On a shitty rainy Toronto night, Lee’s Palace transformed into a ritual ground of black metal fury as Austria’s Belphegor returned to deliver a sermon of sonic blasphemy. Presented by the ever-persistent Inertia Entertainment, the night served as a brutal reminder that the underground is still alive and hellfire-strong in the city’s veins.
From the moment Belphegor took the stage, shrouded in corpse paint, bloodied vestments, and flickering lights that bathed the stage in crimson and bone-white hues, it was clear this wasn’t just a concert—it was an invocation.
Opening with “The Procession”, the band wasted no time immersing the crowd in a whirlwind of tremolo-picked riffs, war-blasted drums, and Helmuth’s signature guttural snarls. Each track felt like a deliberate strike—vicious and calculated, drawn from their sprawling discography of over 30 years. Highlights included the fan-favorite “Baphomet” and the hypnotic “Lucifer Incestus”, which saw the crowd descend into a pit of writhing limbs and whiplashed necks.
Belphegor’s stage presence was menacing but magnetic. Helmuth, the band’s ever-imposing frontman, commanded the stage like a high priest channeling something unholy, with each word growled like a curse. Their drummer (in terrifying form) was a relentless machine, while the guitar work, both icy and oppressive, carved straight through the venue’s low ceilings and into the marrow of the crowd.
The audience—ranging from long-time metal devotees to new initiates—was fully possessed. There was a rawness to the energy in the room, a blend of awe and adrenaline. You could feel the temperature rise with every blast beat and every screech of distortion. Between songs, Helmuth’s cryptic remarks and gestures toward the inverted cross at the front of the stage only added to the occult theater of it all.
Inertia Entertainment once again proved why they remain Toronto’s foremost purveyors of extreme music, pulling a loyal crowd even on a weekday. The venue’s intimacy added to the suffocating intensity—there was no escape, and nobody wanted one.
By the time Belphegor closed their set with the earth-rattling “Gas Mask Terror”, the audience had been fully exorcised of any lingering doubts. What was left was sweat, blood, and the echo of screams reverberating off Lee’s graffiti-laden walls.
Verdict: 666/10
A masterclass in black metal performance. Ritualistic, relentless, and razor-sharp—Belphegor doesn’t just play live; they burn their mark into your memory.
