Sad mi se zelja da ih vidim digla na neslucene visine.Ma,citao sam i ja razne izvestaje na netu,svi se slazu sa tobom da su esencija zla uzivo.
Evo sa sajta
Something smelt dead and rotting in the Scala. It was
as though a local tramp had crawled under the stage to die
and had been rotting there. This was kind of perfect as
Watain were coming on in all their rancid glory. In fact,
I found out the day after the gig that the smell was that
of blood, which had somehow been fed into the dry ice
swirling about the stage. The worrying thing is and I
cant work out why, but there was something about this
putrefying reek that I kind of liked....
The band really do look like they have just crawled out of
the grave and I do not mean in the Gothic sense but more
akin to being decked out in decaying burial rags.
...By the time we were cleaved asunder by The Limb Crucifix
the crowd were perhaps unwittingly baying for the blood
that was permeating the atmosphere. Lead singer E paced up
and down the stage howling away and delivered a commanding
performance. Tracks such as I Am The Earth (from album of the
year Casus Luciferi) virtually buried us in an unrelenting
cavalcade of leaden ice-cold grooves. Vocals were delivered
like a curse being hurled at an ancient enemy and as Black
Salvation rumbled out of the speakers like a tank crushing
skulls, it was evident that the band had won over a legion
of new souls here tonight. Rabid Death’s Curse spread it’s
contagion like the Black Death and it was accentuated by that
rotting smell that had me escaping to the gods of the venue
to catch the shows climatic spasms. This was provided by the
death grunts and thunderous crunch of On Horns Impaled,
seeming to hone in on me from below and swipe me back
into the very pit of hell.
"For all the cultism that has surrounded this band,
nothing, I repeat, nothing prepares you for the bestial
onslaught live in the red-raw flesh. The inverted crosses,
the corpse paint are mere dismissive artefacts as Watain
scythe through such nail bombs as "Rabid Death's
Curse", "Devil's Blood" and "My fists are Him" with
sadistic aplomb, a grating bassline that would deafen
even Lemmy and frontman E´s ghastly reverberating vokills
evoking the pitch-blackest of the sinister...
To reprise a lyric by one of the greatest metal bands
of all time; "The root of all evil is the heart of a black
soul". Watain are of that very fabric, a black-hearted
lesson in fearsome, word-and-thought-defying banality of evil.
You'd kill for them..."
Mora se ovo videti...Kad tad,ali mora.