The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster @ Heaven, London

The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster and Halloween are a match made in a distinctly hellish heaven.

While the crowd’s costumes are decidedly inconsistent (we noted two tigers, a collective of badly hidden Where’s Wallys, and, unsurprisingly, numerous Goths); the band’s brilliance is utterly unfailing.

Frontman Guy McKnight’s stage presence is as awesome as ever: strutting on stage in shirt and braces, face painted in a blue, white and red totem pole style; he mesmerizes the crowd from the moment his demonic eyes span the room, engulfing them with one stony gaze.

Less than 30 seconds into their opener, Mcknight has plunged into the crowd, tangling baying admirers into his mic lead.

As the spine-tingling dirge of telly-defenestrating aural psychosis ‘I Rejection’ thunders out, TEMBLD prove themselves to be as visceral, primitive, and, it has to be said, professional, as ever.

Their quagmire-dwelling, synapse-wrenching sound resonates potently: bile-spitting ‘Love Turns to Hate’ anthemically welding melody with mire; while sublimely unnerving  ‘So Long Good Night’ is gloriously goose-pimple-pricking.

Where many bands see a live performance as simply platform for their releases, TEMBLD ensure that every live show is an entirely separate entity, merging pantomime fury with stunningly executed theatrics and unparalleled energy.

At times, there’s a distinct tenderness – the rumbling “now I’ve ripped out your heart dear” of ‘Temple Music’ is a beautifully trembling, bittersweet anti-romance.
 
Looking in turns furious and bemused, McKnight’s actions veer precariously between his signature Mr Mental, malfunctioning marionette and, at times, maladjusted Mr Motivator.  This, by the way, is a very, very good thing.

As the crowd recovers from an encore opening with possibly their most airwave friendly offering, ‘Rise of the Eagles’, it becomes apparent that since their goth-schlock beginnings, the band has more than moved on. There’s a clear maturity - the schtick replaced with a gravitas that underscores the band’s ability to stay at the top of their game where so many of their peers have failed.

An implosion of fear and love and paranoia, TEMBLD are gloriously embittered, brutal and brilliant.