Show(s) Review: The Spiritual Experience of Vastum
It only feels appropriate that I waited two weeks to write this coverage of Vastum‘s Philly and NYC shows this spring. It’s now Easter weekend and I have twice now witnessed a man risen. This feat, only accomplished by the hands of faithful followers’ spiritual fervor borne from psalms of the musicians on the pulpit, lyrics of the abject suffering experienced as the human condition.
Said another way: Vastum is pure primal intensity, community, and a sight to behold and hear. Go to them, witness them, and only then will you understand.
I feel so lucky to have been able to take catch this group nearly two days in a row, first at Decibel’s Metal & Beer festival in Philly, then in the industrial wasteland that is East Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Composed of metal royalty past and present, Vastum’s lineup is an utter feast of trivia for nerds with a penchant for Bay Area metal. Founding members include Leila Abdul-Rauf of (deep cut favorite) Hammers of Misfortune, and Luca Indrio of (extremely popular favorite) Necrot, who left the band just prior to their latest release, 2023’s Inward to Gethsemane. Their discography is awash with topics of torment (“3am in Agony”), genitalia engorged with deadly volumes of blood flow (“Priapic Chasms”), and celebration of self consumption (“Reveries in Autophagia”). In an era awash with OSDM steeped in gore-porn and edgy tales of physical torment, It’s incredibly refreshing to hear death metal that explores more psychic tales of human distress. Vastum offers lyrical feasts for analysis, begging the listener to consider the content, and connect with it on their own terms.
Take “His Sapphic Longing” for example:
Trapped inside a rape tomb
His hard exterior thrusts
Leaves a graveyard of wounds,
To heart, hymen and sphincter
His sapphic longings trapped inside
An ecclesiastic tomb
While I hope there will never be a day when metalheads long for songs of ghouls and torture, lyrical content like this offers an opportunity to dissect lyrics, and feel the music in a way that’s deeply personal. In an effort to avoid falling victim to the intentional fallacy I won’t attempt to dive into what Abdul-Rauf and fellow singer/stuntman Daniel Butler meant in penning these words, nor will I delve into my own intersectional thoughts. But my point remains: to read poetic musings that connect listener, mosher, and artist in candid depth to our human bodies, minds, an experience is absolutely wonderful in a scene awash with tired topics of zombies and dissected bodies.
Speaking of connecting human bodies and minds, let’s get back to the whole religiosity of the experience seeing this band live. Decibel’s Beer and Metal Festival takes place at the Fillmore Philadelphia, a sizable theater with two stories, and one that can seem sadly under-attended to the earlier bands on the bill. Vastum went on at 6:55pm essentially taking the slot as final “opener” ahead of the main three acts for the evening (Darkest Hour, Pig Destroyer, and Dismember—yes, it was sick). The floor was only half filled at this point, but there were no attempts to woo the crowd to “move up” from Daniel. Within moments of their opening song Butler had already hopped into the media pit and was moving fluidly between loving embraces of fans, and egging on the more physical of the crowd, pushing, jumping, and eventually thrusting his entire mortal coil unto the crowd. This was the only artist the entire weekend to cross the media pit into the gaping maw of the adoring crowd, and there was no shortage of fans there to meet Butler, hand to stomach, back, leg, head, and every body part in between. This was one of the most high energy sets of the entire weekend and I only wish I had the opportunity to look up at the rest of the band on stage, but I was too awestruck. The paradoxical disregard Butler displayed for himself and foundational trust in the fans to keep him afloat left me agape. The only shot I got of the entire set was on my trusty film point and shoot pushed one stop (AKA begging the film to expose properly) in an attempt to squeeze every morsel of near-non-existent light onto the black and white emulsion. It’s a sick shot, once you know what you’re looking at.
Luckily I had a second chance to see Vastum in Brooklyn. This time I had my full camera rig and the rest of the band was on eye level with me without the pomp and circumstance of a pesky elevated stage. After a brief soundcheck in which Abdul-Rauf expressed concern for her mic being too hot (I literally saw a shock hit her lips), the chaos began anew. Butler of course got right to work floating above the heads of the crowd, this time with no barrier to surmount. Blessed with what I can only imagine is an especially long mic cord for the occasion, Butler took flight literally to the back of the rectangular venue. In the words of fellow NYC photographer, Bassobrevis “my man spent less time on his damn feet than in the air.” The crowd was hungry for a piece of him, and similar to Philly, attendees rushed to support his being and ensure he never touched the earthly surface the rest of the show.
Getting a second chance to witness the rest of the band really brought the entire experience full circle. Abdul-Rauf is one of the most unique guitarists I’ve seen play in recent memory: with the lightest touch on the strings and seemingly unbothered tremolo picking, the speed at which she was able to move between doling out riffs and entering a lightly strummed section was awe-inspiring. Not to mention her vocal range, belting out ferocious growls punctuated by chants and vocal harmonization, she and Butler make an incredible pair and are a key ingredient to what makes this band so special. And sticking to death metal done their way, Vastum’s rhythm section is indelibly unique, often entering a staccato rhythm of picking with space to breathe in places where many other death metal bands would opt for constant engagement of the strings. Greg Brace on guitar offered perfectly executed solos, shredded as if his life depended on it, and Colin Tarvin on bass alongside Adam Perry on drums offered a rhythmic connection that would be easily lost in a band with less nuance. The sound mix was excellent, as I’ve come to expect from the trio of venues on Meadows Street, Brooklyn. Big shout out to the Woodshop crew for keeping it ace for metalheads across the 5 boroughs.
The final song of the night came too early, and when the venue killed the music and flipped the house lights the band staged a very respectful coup, asking for one more song. There was no need for veiled threats of a reactionary crowd—the whiplash of front man floating and a churning pit to bright overhead lights left everyone in a state of shock and despair. An extremely brief standoff ensued and the venue quickly relented, allowing Vastum to ensure the crowd was left cleansed by the cathartic entirety of their intended set.
I’m unsure how often Vastum tours, and I urge every single reader that made it this far to jump on tickets to their next show (sadly their tour just ended). If you attend, you will be a part of it, and I hope you’re ready to embrace the sublime, becoming engulfed in a pit like none other and leaving a different metalhead than you entered.
