A decreasing number of bands choose monikers that reflect their qualities, style, genre and aspirations. Epica then, is a rare beast; having the courage to choose a name that they have to live up to (and they do).
The name Epica intimates largesse, strength, permanence, substance, and inspiration. In so many ways this sextet delivers all that the name suggests on paper.
Straight up there is the band’s steamy lead vocalist Simone Simons who, on the night of the Melbourne gig, complained of a cold and apologised for only being able to give “99.9 percent.”
Whilst not big in stature, Simons certainly has a huge and electrifying classically trained operatic voice. There was no hint of a cold (or her pregnancy) as she belted out crowd favourites like “Cry For The Moon” and “Consign To Oblivion” as well as slightly lesser-known songs from March’s Requiem For The Indifferent.
Sharing the vocals and lending his talent on guitar was Mark Jansen. Then there was Isaac Delahaye, also on guitar, Coen Janssen on synth and piano, Arien Van Weesenbeek on drums (and backing vocals), and Rob Van Der Loo on bass.
Following the big theme, Epica must hold the record for the most qualified band, with every one of them holding a university degree (Jansen has a Master in Psychology, while the others have Bachelors of Music).
Whilst intellectual pursuits can sometimes make one overly theoretical, serious, or downright stuffy, these musicians cannot be described in such terms at all.
Their exquisite and dynamic playing has clearly benefited from their ten years in Epica (this being their anniversary tour), and the side projects that continually stretch and enhance their skills.
A 70 minute set would have taxed your average marathon runner, but like most band members who are intimately in tune with each other, the whole set was choreographed in such a way as to make it manageable yet exciting.
The music takes the listener through troughs of lulling melodies and works its way upwards to explode in invigorating, roaring crescendos.
Simons’ classical alto seems obviously gothic when backed by the symphonic metal sounds, and is contrasted interestingly by Jansen’s death metal scream, which is reminiscent of other unlikely but highly evocative pairings.
Visually, the show is a feast too. Not overdone but cleverly constructed, the music is matched with colours, scenes, and other lighting effects that compliment the song’s lyrics.
Jansen and Simons are not shrinking violets when it comes to tackling the big themes in philosophy that are pertinent to current world-wide debates.
We can’t be entirely sure that all present to witness this show experienced more than just an aural treat, but Simons particularly, connected with the audience with her humble stance, her obvious pleasure at being able to perform in Australia, and her easy camaraderie with her fellow musicians.
Epica’s name gives the group something to live up to, but as with most established professionals, they really had nothing to prove.
This gave them the freedom to play with honesty, subconsciously knowing that their fans were present to experience their talent and passion for music and will be there at future shows to support them through the next ten years of their evolution.
