The Dillinger Escape Plan - Mathcore Veterans Bow Out with Abrupt Nihilism - Manchester Academy 2, Manchester, 20.01.17.

As The Dillinger Escape Plan wind down their penultimate track of the night, fan favourite Sunshine the Werewolf, their anarchic wall of sound hits the emergency breaks, Greg Puciato breaks off from his hoarse vocal screams to suddenly wave frantically at security. It transpires that a fan has suffered a seizure at the barrier, spotted by the frontman in a small gap nestled at the front of the sell-out crowd at Manchester Academy. As medics swarm the front-of-stage area, Puciato implores the audience to step back, and that the show is likely over. It’s an abrupt finish to a band known for abrupt finishes, on what is ostensibly their final European headline tour.

The Dillinger Escape Plan, performing live at Leeds Festival
2016. (Credit to Ben Gibson.)

Is it really the end for The Dillinger Escape Plan though? New Jersey’s experimental mathcore veterans – arguably pioneers of the scene – have flip-flopped between the terms hiatus and break-up over their impending departure, twenty years after they first emerged. After six acclaimed albums, TDEP are bowing out; and unlike other dissolutions, there is the foreboding sense that this is final.

They certainly intend to leave an impression though. Under hellish red and moody blue lighting, with constant strobing, Dillinger set about delivering a nihilistic set of genre-bending metal that threatens to blow all the doors out, such is its intensity. Leaning heavily on 2016’s Dissociation, they hurtle through Limerent Death and Panasonic Youth with a barely-restrained aura of violence, aided by the antics of Puciato, guitarists Ben Weinman and Kevin Antreassian and bass player Liam Wilson, as they clamber over speakers and incite countless, brutal circle pits. It is a feral, ferocious performance that captivates with its raw brutality.

TDEP are a musically-diverse entity however; new track Symptom of Terminal Illness is a swirling, stormy plea of a track; the punk balladry of One of Us is the Killer highlights their tender side. The soaring alt-metal of Milk Lizard is also ecstatically welcomed, and when the scatter-jazz piano of Mouth of Ghosts opens the encore, a hushed appreciation falls over the venue. All are built upon the excellent drum work of Billy Rymer, whose ability to flick between swing and common time is a skill somewhat unheralded in the shadow of his vocalist.

The Dillinger Escape Plan, performing live at Leeds Festival
2016. (Credit to Ben Gibson.)

With good reason too. Puciato remains one of metal’s most electrifying frontmen, bleeding a visceral passion, if not blood too in his performance. It is his vocals that elevate Dillinger’s material live, from the raw-throated war cry of Hero of the Soviet Union, to the spindly falsetto he spits on the strident Black Bubblegum. For the closing one-two punch of Farewell, Mona Lisa and the animalistic Prancer, he launches himself from amp to amp, climbing up them like a demented monkey. Yet, when he sees the distress late on, he dives in to help the medics in a show-ending act that still speaks volumes about his ability to connect. TDEP are not a sentimental band; but with their final acts, they signify that they remain a thrilling live beast, drenched in a sweaty humanity.