For 15 years, Chaos Theory has been a vital force in the underground music scene, championing sounds from the outer edges of heavy and experimental music. More than promoting, Chaos Theory curate experiences, bringing together artists and audiences who crave something beyond the ordinary, and have built a reputation for showcasing some of the most forward thinking and immersive live acts around. These gigs have always felt like gatherings of kindred spirits, where music becomes a shared language: heard, felt and understood like a collective heartbeat.
Getting to the Underworld for this celebration on the 8th March, however, was its own battle. London is often unforgiving—transport unreliable, traffic at a standstill, parking nonexistent. No matter how much I tried to plan, the city had other ideas, so I found myself missing out on the first two bands, Morag Tong and Codex Serafini. Frustrating, yet not surprising. Still, the second I set foot inside the venue, all that stress dispersed. Warm greetings, familiar faces, and the intoxicating hum of anticipation filled the air. The night was already in motion, and despite the commotion outside, I had arrived exactly where I was meant to be.
Shooting Daggers
Shooting Daggers were a tornado of feminine energy and unapologetic anger that absolutely thrives in a live setting. The crowd was vibing, with bodies positively moving to the beat of their queercore punk anthems, and I was not ready for how much fun I’d have. Their message was loud and clear: love each other, take no shit, do no harm. I went in thinking I’d just watch and take pictures, but found myself dancing like nobody was watching (and frankly, I’m grateful they weren’t). It was a wild ride of vital energy and a hell of a good time. 10/10, would get my sore feet moving again.
Five the Hierophant
Five the Hierophant live are an experience that loiters in the bones. I expected doom jazz, but this turned into an all consuming, slow burning ritual. Their sound weaves a dark, hypnotic atmosphere where the saxophone wails like a ghost adrift, reigning supreme over ripples of brooding tension. Smoke drifts, shadows pulse, and the music undulates between eerie calm and controlled chaos. The audience sways in a collective trance and I’m right there in the middle, lost on the psychedelic, cinematic world the band conjure. Zero words, all sensation. Haunting and unforgettable, I was left longing for more, grateful to be alive for this.
Hundred Year Old Man
There’s something about post metal done right that often reduces me to tears, and boy did Hundred Year Old Man know which buttons to push. HYOM are an emotional wrecking ball, with a massive sound that can crush one in its weight, yet there is an airy quality that lingers among the walls of distortion. It’s as if each note carries a heartache, a slow burning sorrow that grips tight and doesn’t let go. It feels emotionally suffocating on one hand, and strangely uplifting on the other, a cathartic release swathed in layers of sound. The pure intensity unfolding on stage is mesmerising, and I find myself unable to look away; I was left almost breathless, shaken, yet somehow more whole than before.
Underdark
Underdark live are a force of nature: a whirlwind of blast beats, black gaze melancholy, and hints of post metal. Their sound is crushing and expansive, a perfect balance of beauty and fury, and their singer Abi commended the stage with a fierce presence, their vocals cutting thorough the haze like a primal scream from the abyss. Their performance was tight, immersive, and utterly captivating. But it’s not all sorrow; there is warmth too, moments of connection as the singer steps into the crowd, smiles breaking through the tempest, and for a moment, the weight lifts. I came not knowing what to expect and left torn apart, and cracked right open in the best of ways. Underdark were catharsis through pain, and joy through destruction.
Svalbard
Svalbard closed the night at Chaos Theory with the same tireless passion and intensity that makes them such a beloved band. At this point, what more can I say about them that I’ve not pointed out on other occasions? They are consistently outstanding, with their gleaming blackgaze-tinged melodies woven into raw, emotional heaviness. More than a band, they stand for a community, and that was felt in every moment of their set. Serena took the time to thank the dedicated fan base and the Underworld staff, a heartfelt gesture that reinforced what Svalbard are all about: connection. Connection between the two vocalists, between band and audience, between the cleansing weight of the music and the joy of simply being there. Their energy was infectious, their love for what they do undeniable, and the audience reflected that right back at them.
In many ways, Chaos Theory as a whole felt like a gathering of friends—bands and fans alike, all absorbed by the music together. The night was perfectly paced, intense but not overwhelming, and Svalbard’s closing set was the perfect powerful ending to a memorable day.
