Review and photos by Jeremy Elwood
From their inception in Hamilton in 2010, Devilskin have held a prime place in the black-clad hearts of their diehard fans, built largely on the strength of their live shows. In fact, since Shihad retired, any competition they may have had for the title of NZ’s best live hard rock/metal outfit has virtually disappeared, and despite Auckland putting on a miserable day there’s an anticipatory atmosphere hanging over this show, starting from the knot of women wearing light-up devil horns waiting outside as I walk in.
First up, though, is Villainy, another local band with their own equally passionate fanbase. In fact, using the admittedly inexact science of reading T-Shirts, tonight’s crowd was a reasonably even split of those here to see either of these two superficially quite different bands. (A third, Midwave Breaks, opened the show; my apologies for missing them)
Villainy are a four-piece made up of Neill Fraser (vocals/guitar), James Dylan (bass), Thom Watts (guitar) and Dave Johnston (drums) who have topped the rock charts, piled up a collection of Aotearoa Music Awards and opened for the likes of AC/DC, Incubus and, as Fraser related tonight, the true king of rock n’roll, Vanilla Ice. They have a great ear for melody, with Fraser’s strong voice riding alongside Watt’s hooks over Dylan and Johnston’s rock solid, but never overwhelming, rhythm section. Songs like Safe Passage, Raised in The Dark and their latest single Miles Away are comfortably commercial, although the band aren’t afraid to crank things up live, with a hot take on debut single Alligator Skin and a full-contact cover of Deftone’s Rocket Skates. Refreshingly, they don’t take the whole rockstar thing too seriously, showing a sense of humour during quirky earworm Tiny Little Island and even throwing in a snippet of Creed, just because they can.
They’re a strong live act, headliners in their own right, with the stage chops and fan favourites to prove it.
Devilskin, however, take it to another level. As the opening salvo of Red gives way to the anthemic Start a Revolution, it’s clear this is going to be hard, heavy and flawlessly executed. The setlist covers all three of their studio albums to date, plus several tracks from their soon-to-be released fourth. Of the latter, Swelter, Ghosts in the Mud and Half-life of Dreams all signal it’s going to be another monster. Live, the new songs sit shoulder to shoulder with earlier standouts All Fall Down, Never See The Light and the encore closer Little Pills.
A couple of years ago guitarist Nail Vincent was named NZ’s first ever Gibson Artist, his adoption by the iconic guitar company arguably making him the third most-revered musician ever to come out of Te Awamutu. He pulls out all the tricks here, thrashing, tapping and even sliding along a variety of Gibson’s finest (including the legendary double-neck EDS-1275, for the fret nerds amongst you), but always entirely in service to the songs and the show. If you want to compare axe-men, think less of stablemates Slash and Tony Iommi, and more of a spry, cheerful version of Gimli from Lord of the Rings.
If the bass and drums sound like they’re bound by blood, it’s because they are. Father and son Paul and Nic Martin (bass and drums, respectively) are Devilskin’s engine room, with Paul’s driving basslines and Nic’s all-encompassing thunder propelling the songs across a packed Powerstation. Family recruitment is one way to form a band, but it was through Paul’s “other” job as host of the Axe Attack radio show that he unearthed Devilskin’s not-so-secret weapon.
Calling Jennie Skulander “a singer” doesn’t do her justice. Yes, she has an incredible voice, but her range – as in genre diversity, rather than just octaves – is what sets her apart. She moves from sustained high notes, to a rock scream, to a death-metal growl, often within the same song. Her ability to do it all with such power is nothing short of astonishing, and witnessing it live doesn’t make it any easier to comprehend.
There’s a real visual flair to Devilskin, from Paul Martin and Nail’s matching beards and uniform shirts to Skulander’s cartwheels and leg kicks to Nic Martin drumming, if I’m not mistaken, barefoot – but none of it feels like a gimmick. They’re loud, but impeccably mixed. They’re technically brilliant, but they don’t flaunt it. They have an obvious, and obviously reciprocated, love for their fanbase, but once the lights go down, the stage belongs to them. Devilskin simply put on one hell of a show.