Behemoth: The Unholy Trinity, with Satyricon and Rotting Christ at Brixton Academy

Mighty Behemoth—a powerful Polish beast of a band—cast its demonic shadows over the O2 Academy in Brixton, the only venue that could gracefully hold their incredible production of the “Unholy Trinity” tour, currently sweeping through Europe. The tour is teasing us with their upcoming release, the album The Shit Ov God, due out on May 5th. Joining them are Norway’s Satyricon and Greece’s Rotting Christ.

Heading to the show, I found myself wondering why this was my first time seeing Behemoth live. They are undeniably a part of modern Polish culture, largely because of how deeply they’ve stirred the Catholic Church and some of the more devout segments of our society. Their satanic music and image used to give my grandmother nightmares—she would say her rosaries every time the band came up in conversation. Many accuse them of disrespecting the holy and sacred symbols of religion, always calling for boycotts and punishment. Honestly, that always made me laugh. What these critics will never appreciate is that Behemoth is one of Poland’s hottest and most successful metal exports. Countless times when I’ve said I’m from Poland, people respond with, “Oh, I love Behemoth!” Poland is Behemoth. It’s kind of hilarious that in the global metal scene, we’re associated with Satanism, yet our core population remains devoutly Catholic.

The show was impeccable—the result of meticulous planning and care. I couldn’t take my eyes off the stage for a single moment. Honestly, I think it might have been the best show I’ve ever seen. Every element, down to the smallest detail, was executed with a level of choreography and precision on par with the pop-star calibre productions. Even unscripted moments, like Nergal’s guitar strap breaking and the way he tossed it aside near the end of the set, with such perfection.

The stage design slowly revealed itself with each song. A crucified Jesus on an inverted cross, the backward IHS symbol representing his name, stunning visuals on the backdrop—each detail unfolded as the performance progressed. The pyro was perfectly timed and never overused. The live fire felt like a ritualistic burning of the status quo and religious norms, turning them to ash. Every time the heat kissed my face, it felt like a glimpse into a demonic dimension, like my face was licked by the Devil. Behemoth played with laser-sharp focus, charisma, and immense precision. I was standing mid-room, yet I could still feel the intensity of their presence and energy. The light show was mind-blowing—whoever designed it deserves an award, if such a thing even exists.

As a photographer, I appreciated both the visual feast and the opportunities it offered those in the photo pit (Daniels’s photos are incredible, am I right?). But even more so, I admired the immersive experience it created. Other bands should be taking notes. The O2 Academy was a perfect venue, adding richness and depth to the entire production. The dark, vaulted ceiling gave the illusion we were deep underground in Dante’s Inferno, watching Satan direct a play.

Black Metal often comes with theatricals—costumes and corpse paint—and here it was timed to the second. Nergal’s costume changes were on par with major pop acts, adding to the entertainment while deepening the ritualistic symbolism. None of it felt cheap. My favourite look was during the dramatic second-act entry, with Nergal wearing the Pope’s mitre and insignia. To me, Poland has two world-famous religious figures: John Paul II and his metal yang—the unholy counterpart—Nergal.

Diving into the setlist, we were “cursed” with 15 tracks that spanned nearly their entire discography—from their early days to the recent release The Shadow Elite, teasing the new album. I wouldn’t call myself an obsessive fan—I don’t cling to the idea that “their old stuff was better.” That detachment let me come with an open mind, free of bias.

Sure, I heard a few annoying cries for “the old stuff,” but Nergal had the perfect response. He introduced Cursed Angel of Doom, written in 1992—one of the first Behemoth tracks ever. You don’t get more “old stuff” than that. You could hear how much he’s evolved as a writer, refining his own style and taking the band to global heights. We were treated to classics like Demigod from the 2004 album Conquer All, and plenty of other fan favourites. The set was perfectly balanced, and with such a vast discography, they led us on a journey through their lifetime of blasphemous work—enough to make Satan himself proud. My personal highlight was the new single The Shit Ov God. It was an epic live debut of a new song that was perfectly staged and executed. Nergal stood atop a raised podium and screamed “I am Shit Ov God!” It was followed by black metal insanity—mastered with excellence by their sound engineer.

Behemoth may have been the main event, but they are not touring Europe alone. Satyricon and Rotting Christ were hellishly good support acts. I’m embarrassed to admit I’d never heard of Rotting Christ before, but they hooked me instantly—I was headbanging in my seat like a madwoman. Their lyrics delve into paganism, especially in their latest release “Pro Xristou” which explores the stories of the last pagan rulers resisting the rise of Christianity. Growing up, I was expected to follow good Catholic values. Breaking away from that doesn’t make you a bad person. Being a good human shouldn’t come from fear of damnation. That idea really hit me during the show, I was thinking about it a lot. Satyricon stirred similar feelings. These Norwegian black metal giants brought a cathartic release to thousands at the venue. Their vocalist proudly defied the doubters who once told them they’d never play to big crowds. Well—they were wrong. The relentless, trance-inducing riffs echoed like ancient rituals. Why should we live in fear of hell? We’re already in it—so let’s embrace it, in the coolest way possible: through metal.