Album Review: Rotting Christ - 35 Years of Evil Existence - Live in Lycabettus
Reviewed by Dan Barnes
Recorded last year in their hometown of Athens as a commemoration of the thirty-five years since the brothers Tolis ditched their early grindcore fervour in favour of a more dark and gothic sound. The resulting demo, Satanas Tedeum would start the ball rolling, leading to Rotting Christ become the premier exponents of Greek Black Metal and being revered as pioneers of extremity.
From the opening raw and vicious debut album, Thy Mighty Contact in 1993, to last years’ symphonic Pro Xristou, the band have not stopped moving forward, recrafting themselves and their sound with every new record.
At twenty-five songs and with a two-hour running time, this new live album looks to pay its respects to its own history by touching base with each of the band’s most defining eras.
The opening portion of the show focuses on Rotting Christ’s most recent run of albums, 666 and P'Unchaw Kachun- Tuta Kachun take the majesty of the Katá ton Daímona Eautoú album’s opening and show that the fire of the early phase of the group might have been tempered but it still burns ever so brightly. The screeching title track follows the slow and brooding Fire God and Fear from The Heretics; the traditional tribal sounds of Apage Satana and the classical splendor of Dies Irae finds an audience utterly enraptured.
Of Rotting Christ’s later albums, it’s 2010’s Aealo, their tenth studio record, that seems to get the least love, which is a shame because it can easily hold its own against any of its contemporaries. Only two songs from that record make the setlist here: Demonon Vrosis and the title track itself. The first is a stomping, doomy, progression, while Aealo fizzes with energy.
Newbie, Like Father, Like Son brings the curtain down on this part of the set, opening the door for the band to turn their attention to the distant past and to a time when Black Metal scourged the lands.
Triarchy of Lost Lovers, the band’s third album from 1996, is represented by King of a Stellar War, Shadow Follow and Archron, all of which feature regularly, or semi-regularly, in the Rotting Christ repertoire to this day. Theirs was never the rawest nor most infernal take on the genre, and the icy blasts heard by their Scandinavian counterparts were replaced by a sound more suited to the Greek climate and temperament. Archon betrays its heavy metal roots with some big chugging guitar as Shadow Follow is short and snappy.
The closest Rotting Christ, circa 2024, get to the Satanic rages of their Norwegian brethren comes on The Sign of Evil Existence and Fgmenth Thy Gift from the debut Thy Mighty Contract, a time when the band adopted pseudonyms such as Necromayhem and Necrosauton et al. The low-fi sound of the album is brought into line with the band’s more contemporary delivery, but that doesn’t mean Sakis can’t channel his inner vocal demon again for one night only.
Sakis’ extra-curricular band, Thou Art Lord – formed with previous Rotting Christ keyboard player, George Zaharopoulos – is represented by the familiar favourite, Societas Satanas, with its blistering drums and sawing guitars, along with a barked chorus. Further back still comes Forest of N'gai from the Passage to Arcturo extended player, that outs-Cradle Cradle of Filth through the use of vast swirling keys.
There’s a distinctly metal feel to both Sorrowful Farewell and Among Two Storms from Dead Poem and After Dark I Feel from the 1999 follow-up, Sleep of Angels. Athanatoi Este blends the darkness with the melodic and takes me back to the first time I saw the band, on their Sanctus Diavolos tour, at Manchester’s Satan’s Hollow. Seems like the most appropriate place to see Rotting Christ – and you can certainly hear the beginnings of the band’s more modern sound played out on this track.
The heavy drums of Nemecic give way to the raging atmospherics of In Yumen Xibalba’s unmistakable riff; Grandis Spiritus Diavolos has the symphonic menace of Dimmu Borgir’s insatiable bombast. The Heretics’ The Raven brings the set to a near-conclusion, leaving only Genesis’ Under the Name of Legion to weave its darkly gothic spells over the Athenian horde who are still baying for more by its close.
Sakis and Themis have been playing together since the band’s inception back in 1987, with bass-man Kostas Heliotis and guitarist Kostis Foukarakis now enjoying five-years with Rotting Christ and becoming as much a part of the furniture as the Tolis-boys. As such, the four-piece sound note perfect, delivering this trip through those thirty-five years as though they were all a part of every minute.
I often think crowds make live albums, and the audience at Lycabettus certainly sounded up for it on this night.
Rotting Christ is one of the jewels in the world of extreme metal and have earned their place by producing quality record after quality record and delivering face-ripping live shows. There’s no substitute for the visceral energy of their live show, but as the document of such a special event, it’s a fair representation.
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