Review: Soulfly, Marble Factory

Pleasingly, Melbourne’s King Parrot prove to be every bit as barking mad onstage as they are in their hugely entertaining videos. They’ve travelled halfway round the world to share their hardcore punk/metal belligerence and beer bellies with us on a drizzly Sunday evening at the Marble Factory, while whinging about the cold weather. (Curiously, the most amply proportioned members of the band are the ones who opt to go shirtless.) These scuzzy buggers from Down Under certainly look the part and deliver most of their set in one huge blur, with just an occasional pause for a chirpy “Cheers, cunts!”

Frontman Matthew ‘Youngy’ Young does his best Cro-Magnon Phil Anselmo throughout and spends most of his time on and off stage trying to incite a water fight with the audience, which seems a tad unfair when the band have most of the ammo. Your humble correspondent received a light drenching, but didn’t fare as poorly as the bloke down the front with the wilting mohican. They finish with Shit on the Liver, which can best be described as both a band anthem and manifesto.

Conventional wisdom has it that you mellow as you get older. Nobody seems to have informed Max Cavalera. These days, the Brazilian co-founder of Sepultura is a 46-year-old grandfather. For a while, it looked as though Soulfly, the band he formed after the massive Sepultura bust-up, were heading dangerously in the direction of world music. But recent releases have recaptured their brutal edge and tonight’s opener We Sold Our Souls to Metal from newie Archangel is as clear a statement of intent as one could wish for. It helps that Max always surrounds himself with shit-hot musicians, bassist Mike Leon being the latest addition to a pretty fluid line-up that retains ace shredder Marc Rizzo. Playing drums for Soulfly is one of the most challenging roles in metal, as so many of their songs are driven by those distinctive tribal rhythms. But any fears that nepotism was at play in the appointment of Max’s son Zyon are swiftly allayed as he proves more than equal to the task.

The rather brief, crowd-pleasing set provokes a seething moshpit, but it’s noticeable that Soulfly play rather more vintage Sepultura songs than usual. What’s more, Max’s choices (Arise, Dead Embryonic Cells, Refuse/Resist, Roots Bloody Roots) are the same ones performed by the current Sepultura line-up at this very venue only two months ago. Still, Soulfly have plenty of memorable material of their own, from the rhythmically complex Prophecy to Frontlines, which breaks down into an dub reggae-ish jam showcasing the band at their imaginative, free-form best. A medley of Jumpdafuckup (obeyed with enthusiasm by the audience) and the shoutalong Eye for an Eye wraps things up. But after Max leaves the stage, the remaining trio seem unable to contain themselves and stick around for a brisk instrumental romp through Iron Maiden’s The Trooper – just for the fun of it.