The only local band on tonight's bill, The Fall of Boss Koala, rather cheekily, don't appear on stage until over half an hour has passed since their scheduled 20:30 start time. But though such behaviour seems best interpreted as the result of blind arrogance or deep-seated insecurity, neither aspect seems to infect the young five-piece who finally take the stage. Boss Koala have certainly come -some- way since their not unimpressive but relatively indistinct performance at last year's Revoltfest: though playing to a more meagre audience, their performance tonight is sewn together with a melodic sensibility that before only seemed able to properly embrace the generic. There's enough noise- and metal- to balance the emo- that throbs at the "core" of Boss Koala's being; they're developing into a formidable force; but most importantly, they're finally becoming their own band.

To look at them, you'd almost expect Glaswegian gladiators Dionysus (also veterans of last year's Revoltfest) to continue the "core"-connected thread kicked off by Boss Koala; a lone In Flames T-shirt (worn, tellingly, by the band's -keyboardist-) gives only the vaguest hint of how pure (and yet blackened) a -metal- band now stands on stage. Mostly attired in combat trousers, and sporting as much short as long hair (one member is even be-dreadlocked!), Dionysus dress -- like many of their local contemporaries and demi-predecessors, from Broken Oath and Godplayer to Co-Exist and Madman Is Absolute -- in "hardcore casuals". But were you to walk in blindfolded and listen to any of the brash, thrash and death-infused "black power" -- think Cradle of Filth or Bal Sagoth, rather than Public Enemy, at their best -- that belters they air tonight, you'd swear Dionysus have at least one spiked wristband, inverted cross, corpse-painted face or at least a solitary -sword- between them: they don't. Interspersing tracks with unashamed yet characteristically self-aware comments like, "Try to imagine a horde of Norsemen riding into battle: that's what this song is about" or "This one's about dragons and stuff" in a straight-up style which simultaneously avoids pompous grandiosity on the one hand and cheap irony on the other, Dionysus elicit ever-loudening roars of approval and fond amusement from their fully savvy crowd with each can of melodious metal whup-ass they rip open. Rooted in the black/death underground by their own tastes alone, Dionysus effortlessly shirk expectations, transcending the generic in one fell swoop: probably because, where they come from, they pretty much -are- a one-of-a-kind, almost by default. Acceptance may be hard-won among "metal-metal" people for a band who eschew fashion "trends" so thoroughly, but in an era where the likes of Killswitch Engage, Shadows Fall and God Forbid are crossing over big time, a band like Dionysus have a serious chance of being judged purely on the aesthetics of their -own- music and performance, outside of sub-generic category. The combination of visual and aural inputs may initially seem "wrong", but when you watch Dionysus make it work you'll quickly realise how "right" it ultimately is: your neck will tell you so the next morning!

Vibrant, technically accomplished, and yet gratifyingly give-'em-what-they-want straight in style, the melodic metal-making of Midlands-based four-piece Kaleb perfectly fits the mood of a crowd whose lust for "pure metal" -- the local parlance for the traditional stuff, a la Iron Maiden -- has already been ignited by Dionysus. Galloping, harmonising and grooving their way through a wickedly tight forty-odd minute set -- taking in six of the eight tracks from their self-released _Alive_ CD and a ripping cover of Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" -- the young foursome (whose oldest and youngest members are two brothers, aged 21 and 16) successfully embrace that universalising metal spirit that flows through Eighties Iron Maiden and Metallica; but without reproducing riffs like brands ( thdarkness ). Nods to latter-day melodic metal heroes like In Flames and Iced Earth confirm how contemporary a prospect is being dealt with; Kaleb do occasionally stumble on a song-title or a riff that evidences their scene-less status or seems to somehow show them up as greenhorn upstarts; but when you pick apart the niggling scene politics of it all, you're left with a young British band who are unflinching about playing melodic heavy metal, and have the balls, skill and singer to make it work like a charm. Now how often does that happen?

(Addendum: I feel compelled to mention that my relationship to Kaleb is not an entirely disinterested one; not only does my good friend and fellow CoC contributer Adam Lineker play bass in the band, but I am also now actively and directly involved in helping them further their career. I would claim that these factors did not bias my review of Kaleb one way or another; but I thought it was dishonest not to mention these connections here.)