Der Blutharsch / Deutsch Nepal /
Novo Homo

SOME of the local pubs in Islington can be more than a little distracting, to say the least, so we arrived too late to see Novo Homo. But having seen Death In June and Boyd Rice perform here to a full house a couple of years ago, as well as Von Thronstahl on that infamous 'Steel Night', tonight's attendance for the Der Blutharsch show was fairly low and a lot of the usual faces on the scene were conspicuous by their absence.

It's not the greatest of venues, either, and you have to pay £3 for a can of beer. Sweden's Deutsch Nepal - or, to be more specific, Lina Baby Doll - took the stage beside a small canvas screen and immediately transformed the club's chattering atmosphere into a mesmerising dreamscape of ritualistic ambience. As Lina sat casually on a stool, puffing away on a cigarette and swigging from a can of lager, he shared some light banter with the audience before activating the projector. The film took the form of a nature documentary, with killer whales and eagles displaying the 'kill or be killed' philosophy of the lex talionis. We were absolutely transfixed. It was Jean Michel Jarre with bollocks. Tangerine Dream in bovver boots. An ambience of tortured vocals. A chanting among the evocative images of otters, gulls, fish and other life-strugglers: 'We will always be afraid. We are always afraid.' As the performance came to a close, Lina received a huge cheer from the audience and sauntered off behind the curtain backstage.

A sudden flurry from the sound crew signaled the imminent arrival of Der Blutharsch, as a guitar was tuned and an air-raid siren tested. And then Albin Julius and his Austrian entourage came striding out of the darkness like a scene from World At War. Flaming torches were handed to members of the audience and the stage - which was becoming increasingly lost in dry-ice - became a mixture of blacks and browns, buckles and beltstraps, iron crosses and jodhpurs. With the harsh rigidity that characterises the group's notorious aura, vitriolic classics like 'God Punish England', 'Fatherland' and 'Time Is Thee Enemy' were hurled in our direction like German stick-grenades. It was a fairly decent performance, but Albin seemed a little over-dramatic at times (not least when he angrily pushed a microphone stand into the audience) and although we were right at the front of the stage the volume wasn't half as deafening as when Der Blutharsch appeared at The Red Rose in March 2002. A great night and possibly most memorable for the way Deutsch Nepal completely stole the show.