The Vortex of Violence tour stopped at Montreal’s Foufounes Électriques on March 30, delivering four sets of sharply honed sonic punishment that left no room for subtlety—and really, who came looking for nuance?
Kicking off the night was St. Louis tech-death outfit Summoning the Lich, who arrived fully armoured in fantasy lore and tremolo riffs. Their brand of blackened, RPG-fuelled death metal came laced with classical interludes and a pace that bordered on the chaotic. At their best, they hit a stride that sounded like Emperor discovering caffeine. At their busiest, they were like four wizards all casting different spells at once—impressive, but a little dizzying.
California’s Skeletal Remains followed with a set that could charitably be described as “merciless.” The band, lacking a frontman because Chris Monroy could not make the show, fully embraced instrumental devastation, causing you to question the effectiveness of your earplugs. The brutality was precise, relentless, and atmospheric in a way that suggested the band isn’t just here to play—they’re here to haunt.
Allegaeon, hailing from Colorado, added some melodic balance to the evening without dialling down the aggression. Their blend of technical death metal with prog-tinged structure and dual vocal textures—ranging from guttural growls to soaring, clean vocals—gave the night a much-needed injection of musical elasticity. Even when inter-song banter veered into folksy territory, the set maintained a strange kind of elegance, as if Opeth grew up on sci-fi novels and smoked weed in the Rockies.
Warbringer closed out the night with the tightly wound intensity of a band that knows exactly what it’s here to do. Touring behind Wrath and Ruin, their latest record, they tore through new material and fan favourites alike with a sense of mission—thrash not as a retro fetish but as an ongoing cultural necessity. With lineup substitutions handled deftly, the energy never wavered. By the time the crowd was shouting along to “The Sword and the Cross,” the room had turned into a well-oiled mosh machine—sweaty, semi-feral, and deeply cathartic.
Metal is rarely polite, and Vortex of Violence didn’t try to be. But for those who showed up, endured the smoke, and leaned into the chaos, it was one hell of a good time.
Photos – Ryan Rumpel
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