Have you laid eyes on the Heathen Apostles before? Neither had I, so I tightened my corset and braced for the spectacle as The Lexington’s stage morphed into a grand theater. The band took their places, ready to unleash their storm.
For a bewildering moment, I wondered if a mistake had been made and that we were all about to see a production of The Crucible…
But then the music starts, and all thoughts of justice governed by fear, prejudice, and suspicion are banished by the powerful chemistry and musical genius that fills the air.
Dimly lit and serious-faced, with an intensity so fierce it sends shivers down the spine, the crew aboard this storm-tossed vessel of sound is a force to be reckoned with. Mather Louth, captain of this weather-beaten Gothic Americana ship, commands the stage with vocals that pierce through the fog like a cutlass through the thickest of sails. Her voice guides us through seas of murderous balladry, the brooding lyrics and intricate instrumentation flowing with the ease of a ship slicing through dark, tempestuous waters. Their genre-bending style is as unpredictable as the high seas, each song a rogue wave crashing with elegance and power.
"Capital T" was led by the alluring violinist Luis Mascaro, whose bow dances with the finesse of a master swordsman. "Shadow of the Crows" follows, with Thomas Lorioux’s heavily percussive bass"
Amidst it all, the violinist—our ship’s smiling rogue—grins through the storm, his playing as sharp as any rapier blade. And smile he should, for his skill is nothing short of staggering. With a call from Louth—“How y’all doing, London?”—the ship sails into “Death’s Head,” and Louth, trading her well-worn guitar for a bodhrán, spins a tale of love turned sour and a stolen heart, the tremolo percussive beat building into a magnificent, macabre crescendo.
Strings fly off the fiddle, fingers a blur of fury and speed. Mather announces that their seventh album, The In Between, has just been unleashed upon the world. The crowd—many dressed in their own interpretations of Gothic Americana, a right old bunch of gothic buccaneers, some with no hair, others with long hair flowing, hats tipped just so, and a few even adorned with a small skull or two—respond with hearty cheers, fully enraptured. In no time, they’re under a spell, completely connected to the rhythm.
Haunting melodies shift effortlessly between key signatures, evoking tales of uncertainty and introspection"
The hoedown intro of “Capital T” was led by the alluring violinist Luis Mascaro, whose bow dances with the finesse of a master swordsman. “Shadow of the Crows” follows, with Thomas Lorioux’s heavily percussive bass laying a thunderous foundation, while the fiendish fiddle once again steals the show. Chopper Franklin, the old salt of the six strings, dazzles with guitar virtuosity, blending genres with the grace of a seasoned navigator. Oh, Chopper, you’ve still got it, you old Cramp!
Mather Louth remains pale and composed throughout, a serene figurehead in the face of the storm, her intensity building with each song as she steers through waves of relentless violin and pounding bass. We briefly ponder how “Can Your Pussy Do The Dog?” might sound with this instrumentation, as Franklin whips out his mandolin—legendary in its own right—and adds a shimmering depth to the stellar set, which includes crowd favorites like “In the Blood” and “Roots Run Deep.” Caught in this riptide of sound and emotion, the crowd stands spellbound.
Haunting melodies shift effortlessly between key signatures, evoking tales of uncertainty and introspection, like a compass spinning wildly in the eye of a storm. These songs are a battle between catharsis and raw emotion, pulling us deeper into the heart of the night.
Louth’s mesmerizing voice and the intricate musicianship of the entire crew transport us to the mystical shores of raw Gothic Americana. The interplay between the musicians is like the synchronized pull of sails in the wind, adding richness and depth to their sound. As they cast their final heave-ho with an up-tempo drinking song (isn’t every song a drinking song?), the lights blaze and The Lexington is bathed in the murderously optimistic energy of their storytelling.
We sail happily toward the gates of hell, and it feels glorious.
Heathen Apostles played The Lexington, London on 18th July 2024 Support from Message From The Ravens
