It had been 11 years ago on this date that the Fields of the Nephilim last played at the Astoria. Now, the property on which the Astoria sits is part of an extensive rebuilding and renovations project taking place in London town. The Astoria Theatre is soon slated to meet the wrecking-ball. It's not a particularly comely old piece of architecture, but it has character like the battle-scarred veteran of many long wars. If those walls could tell the tales of all that has happened there.... One can only imagine, knowing the bands that have played there.

On Thursday, May 24th, 2007, The Nephilim were there to bid the grand old girl farewell in a gig that will not soon be forgotten. It was most definitely a "You had to be there" sorta fing. I took a few moments to absorb it all before the crowds of people wandered in. Somewhere in the dark, Richard Stanley and his assistants, Mssrs. Imo Horn and Nikolai Galitzine were ready and waiting to film the awesome aural adventure.

I watched the stage, looking for signs of life, and then they came -- Octavia Sperati, the metal lasses from Norway who were to open the show. The ladies and their roadies bustled around in the twilight on stage getting ready for their big moment while the first waves of Neph fans began to stake their claims to their own little plot of Paradise Regained. I could see them already layering themselves against the bulwark of the stage, eager to be as close as close to the Man and the new band. People were still coming in as Octavia Sperati played their set. Not being familiar with their music I can't say much about what songs they played. Their sound was a bit off, the singer being drowned out by the instruments oftentimes ... which was too bad, because she has a voice that approaches operatic tones. They were quite good. The crowd was appreciative but, I sensed, not as enthusiastic as they would later become. But that's to be expected, when you have a building full of people who came to see The Nephilim. The Chord of Souls who'd gathered here this night were more than ready to get on with the main attraction. We'd come from far and wide for one thing and one thing only ... to experience The Nephilim ~ the incomparable Mr. McCoy and whoever it was that showed up on stage with him.

I'm sure many entertained thoughts about what would be the opening number, but when the stage filled with roiling clouds of purple fog and the powerful, mesmeric notes of The 24th Moment you had to think... "What else?" Chills ran through me as the disembodied Watcher's voice seemed to emerge from the fog itself and waft out over the audience, seeping into the very walls. "One moment, and I'd return forever ... " Yes, that was it! This was it! It was all coming together, and the people cheered.

The droning soundscape at the end of The 24th Moment bled into the opening of Shroud, the first song from Mourning Sun, the album released in late 2005. The mysterious 'ghost' musicians had taken their places on stage. Once again, the dark echo of McCoy's velvet whispers caressed our ears and slithered around us. Could this get any better? And we knew beyond words that it would as McCoy appeared on stage and Straight to the Light strummed into our consciousnesses.

The fog exploded with white light and there he was, the one we'd all been waiting to see. Yes! Mourning Sun was definitely going to be 'on-tap' tonight. But then, just so we didn't get too smug about what we thought we were going to hear, the band lit into Penetration, followed by Dawnrazor. It was a tribute to the past glories of both FotN and The Nephilim, gratefully received.

The temperatures were rising fast. The air was thickening, congealing into a sense of something almost tribal as the shirts came off down on the floor and the pyramid builders started doing their thing. It was quickly becoming a great syzygic orgy of sweat and sound that had yet to reach it's climax. No one person there was alone as the strains of Moonchild took it down a notch -- but not too far. Just enough to take a moment to remind ones self to breathe and soak it all in.

Zoon III brought the energy levels back up on high, slowly building once again. They played hard and loud and McCoy moved back and forth across the stage, sometimes coming to stand on the far left, his eyes glowing eerily in the dark clouds of dry ice.

Then the lights went down and the fog turned blue. There was thunder and the sound of rain. We were back to a song from Mourning Sun with the beautiful Le Veilleur Silencieux (aka Requiem Xiii-33). Time to breathe again and slide into a moment of warm oblivion. When he sang "Do you know, things to come ... ?" did we understand what would happen next?

The hall seemed to grow appreciably hotter as Xiberia kicked in, thundering through the seats and the walls like an onslaught of Scythian horsemen coming to grab us all by the throat and rattle us down to our very souls. It was awesome in the extreme, readily displaying the fresh new power of The Nephilim reincarnate. They were back and rockin' our socks off, along with several other articles of clothing.

As you can see from the picture above, the floor was packed tight as a tin of sardines still warm and wriggling ... a fresh offering to the new metal 'gods' who seemed quantitatively energized by the fans' more than appreciative reception. Hovering over it all, in the corners, in the kleigs and catwalks, behind us, above us and all around, watching through our eyes and hearing through our ears, the Master of Metal Nephilim himself gave a great grin and tossed back his natty red dreds in laughter.

And the band played on, treating us to the haunting and powerful Last Exit for the Lost -- the song that solidified my love for the Nephilim so long ago. It was like coming home to a place where the walls and layout were familiar, but the decor was decidedly post-apopalyptic metal like something out of Richard Stanley's "Hardware". Yet, like a fine damascene blade the lovely marbelizing of sound and driving crescendoes were far from lost -- only embellished to a fine and deadly glint.

Sadly, the set came to what seemed a premature ending -- for we could have listened all night long. The stage went dark and the band left for the wings. The Astoria rocked with applause, whistles, and cheers for a good three minutes that seemed like an eternity. If the volume of the noise was any indicator, the gig was an overwhelming success. Everyone was loving it and we all wanted MORE!

And more we got ...

McCoy returned to the stage sans the leather vest and black shirt, wearing a white shirt and suspenders ... reminiscent of the old days. The band took their places and rekindled the energetic flame with an intro embodying all the delicious metal elements of Zoon. YUM! We were treated to a balls-out, arse-kicking rendition of Xodus which got things rolling once again.

McCoy had carried around his mic stand, leaned on it, shouted and crooned into it all night ... just as if he'd never put it down. I understand he asked the crowd down front what they wanted to hear. One response was Love Under Will and so it was. By now we were totally giddy with delight, the heat and the energy. Apparently, so was McCoy, as he took a moment (no doubt) to wipe the sweat from his brow.

At last, we were treated to the epic eponymous ending of the latest album, Mourning Sun. We listened and watched, hanging on every sound and gesture as a new Heaven and a new Earth were laid open for our hungry, yearning souls. We had come to be part of a new beginning to the ongoing saga of the Nephilim. We had seen the ghosts of today, yesterday and tomorrow all in the here/now and it was more than good. It is a night and an event that will be remembered by all who were in attendance for the rest of our lives.

From the echoes of Zoon which made no pretentions to be 'the old Nephilim' sound McCoy has gotten his wish to take it to the limit of hardening the band and their sound. It is now a vorpal blade quenched in the sweat of a thousand plus souls, and it will endure. There are those who lament the loss of the past but it's time to move on with this rather shiney new and fresh sound, for change is the only constant in this ever-expanding universe and world. It is a metamorphosis and a shedding of the old skin -- rebirth to the band we all know and love, The Nephilim.