Goat, The Mill, Birmingham review - Scandinavian pagans see the weekend out in style

It might be nigh on six months since Scandinavian shamen (and women) Goat released their latest opus, Oh Death, but it has taken until now for them to finally bring their energetic live show back to the UK. On Sunday’s evidence, it is a wait that now feels like a small price to pay though, as Brummies young and old blew their minds and danced their socks off to intoxicating sounds that provoked a seriously ecstatic response.

Before Goatman and his hoards had even hit the stage, the Mill was a packed space of human soup that contained more dry ice within its atmosphere than even the Sisters of Mercy ever managed in their heyday. Lit by deep purple lighting, the space was truly set up for a rite that emphasised the event rather than the personalities involved – and right until the end of the performance, few must have been able to see the band’s drummer at any point.

Goat may not be a mainstream proposition in this country as yet, but it was encouraging to see a fairly diverse crowd, with plenty of young women and wheelchair users out for a Sunday evening of musical mayhem and not just the usual suspects of Radio 6 dad’s standing there, beer in hand and refusing to move a muscle, never mind bringing themselves to shake a leg – even though there were plenty of those too.

Starting the proceedings with “Soon You Die”, a fuzz-heavy hymn to making the most of life because it is inevitably shorter than you might like, the seven-strong band let rip from the first notes. Their two nameless female singers, dressed in shiny kaftans and wild masks, attacked their tambourines in a manner that would put Liam Gallagher to shame and flung themselves around the stage, soon working themselves into a frenzy and encouraging the crowd to do the same. Moving on through a rampant “Goatfuzz” and “Under No Nation”, howling guitars and butt shaking bass and percussion took songs that while not exactly polite on record, deeper into areas of tripped out trance as they stretched out and really let loose. While “Fill My Mouth” brought a pair of recorders to bear over the ritualistic groove before sliding into the magnificent “It’s Time for Fun”, which saw the Goat Goddesses taking things ever higher and even out-Bezing the Happy Monday’s dancer and hype man in encouraging those present to get with it.

Finally taking in the rabble rousing “Let It Burn”, Goat briefly stepped off-stage for a well-deserved breather before returning for a heathen mind trip of “Goathead” with its chuka-chuka percussion, the dirty shamanic grind of “Let It Bleed” and finally the fierce pounding groove of “Run to Your Mama” accompanied by some particularly mind-blowing strobe lighting. In fact, by the time the band had finished, there were rivers of sweat pouring down the walls and the assembled throng looked like they had reached levels of ecstasy that may have been alien to them for some fair few years.

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