RITUAL OF SONIC OBLITERATION Portal & Bölzer Deliver Transcendent Terror at Max Watt's. Words: Mark/ Pics: Dan

RITUAL OF SONIC OBLITERATION

Portal & Bölzer Deliver Transcendent Terror at Max Watt's

Melbourne, August 16th, 2025

The palpable tension hanging in Max Watt's thick air before Portal even took the stage told the whole story. This wasn't just another Friday night gig – this was a pilgrimage for the devoted, a communion with forces that dwell in the furthest reaches of extreme metal's most unforgiving territories.

VESICANT, according to other punters( we didn't make doors at the gig was strangely very early-like doors at 7pm???), opened proceedings with a blistering set that immediately separated the tourists from the faithful. The NZ death/war metal outfit delivered a punishing 25-minute assault that had the early arrivals pressed against the barrier, sweat already beading despite the night's early hours. Their sound – raw, uncompromising, and mercilessly tight – served as the perfect gateway drug for what was to follow.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the uninitiated for BÖLZER's ritualistic devastation.

Okio Jones and Fabian Wyrsch emerged from the shadows like ancient priests summoned for a blood rite. The Swiss duo's reputation for transforming venues into temples of sonic worship proved absolutely justified within the first crushing notes of this grim, abrasive meditative set. Jones' vocals – those otherworldly, multi-layered incantations that seem to channel something genuinely inhuman – filled every corner of Max Watt's with an atmosphere so dense it felt like breathing liquid darkness.

The opening ritual began with Roman Acupuncture, its piercing melodies cutting through the venue's atmosphere like ancient surgical instruments. Zeus - Seducer of Hearts followed, Jones' vocals weaving mythological narratives with crushing riffs that had the crowd transfixed. The hypnotic pull of Urðr – that Norse goddess of fate herself seeming to manifest through Wyrsch's thunderous percussion – created a trance-like state that rippled through the packed room.

The Archer and Hero showcased the duo's masterful dynamic shifts, building from whispered incantations to full-blown sonic warfare. The crowd's devotion became most apparent during Phosphor, bodies swaying in perfect synchronisation to its ritualistic rhythms. Æstivation provided a brief respite – if such a thing exists in Bölzer's universe – before Pauper and the absolutely devastating Entranced by the Wolfshook reminded everyone why this band commands such reverence in the underground.

The visual element cannot be understated. Jones was in perpetual motion throughout the entire set – a man possessed, his body writhing and contorting in what appeared to be some sort of channelled trance state. Every riff, every vocal passage seemed to physically move through him like electricity, his movements manic yet completely synchronised with the music's supernatural rhythms. He never stopped, never paused, completely consumed by the ritual unfolding around him. This wasn't performance – this was pure possession, a human vessel surrendering completely to forces beyond comprehension. By the time they closed with C.M.E., half the room looked shell-shocked, the other half looked reborn.

PORTAL took the stage to a roar that shook the venue's foundations, and proceeded to systematically dismantle every conception of what extreme metal could be.

Portal's hooded congregation arranged themselves on stage like cultists preparing for the final summoning, and launched into the opening assault of Atmosblisters. But something was missing – an uneasy tension filled the room as the music began without their enigmatic frontman. Then, as the song built to its first crescendo, The Curator emerged from the shadows. The crowd's initial silence gave way to an explosion of cheers and screams as his towering figure took the stage, that infamous demonic mask transforming him into something genuinely otherworldly – not just a performer, but an actual evil creature materialized from the music's darkest recesses. The sound didn't just fill the room – it rewrote the laws of physics within those four walls, immediately establishing the otherworldly atmosphere that would dominate the next hour.

Swarth and Glumurphonel followed in rapid succession, their twisted nomenclature matching the labyrinthine brutality of their construction. Portal's genius lies in its ability to make chaos feel orchestrated, to make the incomprehensible feel inevitable.

Phreqs and Illoomorpheme twisted through passages that defied logic while maintaining an inexorable momentum that dragged the audience deeper into their sonic abyss.

The mid-set highlight came with Manor of Speaking – a track that showcased the band's ability to find melody within madness. Vessel of Balon and Olde Guarde maintained the relentless intensity, while Abysmill provided perhaps the evening's most punishing moment, its crushing weight threatening to collapse the venue itself.

The Curator's vocals – those inhuman bellows and whispers that seem to emanate from some prehistoric throat – provided the perfect counterpoint to the band's architectural brutality throughout Tempus Fugit (the track many, including the writer, were certainly hanging for) and the mesmerising Eye. The crowd's reaction was primal – bodies moving not to rhythm but to something far more fundamental, something that bypassed conscious thought entirely.

The closing one-two punch of Curtain was nothing short of apocalyptic, unfolding like a fever dream of surgical precision and cosmic dread that transformed Max Watt's into a cathedral of controlled chaos.

The sound mix deserves mention. Portal's music demands perfect clarity within complete mayhem, and tonight's production almost achieved that impossible balance. Every dissonant note, every blast beat, every unholy utterance cut through the mix with surgical precision while maintaining the wall-of-sound density that makes Portal's live experience so utterly overwhelming. But like on most of the band's recordings, there is unwavering dedication to a murky and opaque, claustrophobic soundtrack; so perhaps the band requested this. Like with Bolzer, I wished for more vocals and certainly more guitar in the mix.

As the final notes of their set dissolved into feedback and white noise, the silence that followed felt apocalyptic. Max Watt's had been transformed from a mere venue into holy ground – or perhaps unholy ground, depending on your theological perspective.

This was more than a concert. This was a testament to the power of extreme metal to transcend entertainment and become a genuine ritual experience. Both Bölzer and Portal proved once again why they stand at the absolute apex of their respective crafts, why their union on this tour represents something approaching divine providence for those who worship at the altar of sonic extremity.

For the faithful who made the pilgrimage to Max Watt's tonight, this wasn't just another gig to tick off their list. This was the kind of transcendent experience that reminds you why you fell in love with extreme music in the first place – and why some forms of devotion require complete surrender to forces beyond human comprehension.

★★★★★

Portal & Bölzer continued their Australian tour with shows in Hobart (August 17) and this weekend with the grand finale: Brisbane's Necrosonic Festival (August 23). Consider this your final warning – and your most urgent invitation.

GRAB THOSE LAST-MINUTE TICKETS ASAP!!!

https://necrosonicfestival.com/

GET ANTISOCIAL:

https://www.facebook.com/bolzerband

https://www.facebook.com/PORTALDEATH

– Reviewed by Mark Jenkins for Devil's Horns Zine "Bringing you the music your parents warned you about since 2018 " LAST BUT NOT LEAST, SUPPORT THE ARTISTS (AND US) BY SPREADING THE WORD, FOLLOWING US ON SOCIAL MEDIA AND REPOSTING OUR WORKS...SUPPORT THE UNDERGROUND AND OUR COMMUNITY. THERE ARE NO COMMERCIAL GAINS. And: Music is not a commodity, it's a community.

Your art should reflect your truth, not what others want to hear. Ian MacKaye.