The venue is dotted with clusters of red candles and the fumes from burning sage fill my nostrils. Thoughts drift from ceremonial intimacy to, rather inappropriately, Paxo stuffing. I appreciate more and more each day the ability of live music to temporarily annihilate the accumulation of petty, hateful little things steadily wearing me and you down, to sweep it all away in a gale of glorious noise. Atmospheric black metal? Yep, I was expecting plenty of atmospherics, but not necessarily such an enveloping, heavy and commanding performance as this...

Idaho duo Wolvserpent set up the vibe perfectly. There's a blackened occult vein running through all of the songs, but they draw inspiration from outside the usual metal spheres. A surging granite bassline loops, tremolo-picked shards break into bowel-quaking doom. I feel glad to be alive, bearing the full force of such extreme music in such congenial surroundings. Which is how it ever should be. There are icy keyboard washes, dramatic violins and Earth-y stretched-out drone aridness, which tests the patience of some weaklings but is fecund with rich reward for those willing to submit and take the scenic route to the catastrophic, growling pay-off.

My brother and comrade then says: “I feel sorry for anyone who doesn't have metal in their life.” Amen.

I cast a nod of appreciation toward a bewitching owl depicted on the stage backdrop. Unsurprisingly, he retains the same expression of mild interest. The cloud of sage gets thicker with the fog from the smoke machine. Wolves In The Throne Room proceed to grab our attention and refuse to loosen their grip until it's all over. As much as I love the journey the records take me on, I hadn't yet managed to engage with the sheer size and fullness of the WITTR sound, probably due to some over-politeness on my part with the volume knob. Well, as you've no doubt worked out, they emphatically unlocked that door here. The drums especially seem much more prominent in the live setting. More about texture than riffs or attack, the guitars are a dense, impenetrable waterfall. The music embodies the “purifying rain” of 'I Will Lay Down My Bones Among the Rocks and Roots' (The muddy obscurity of the photo is the result of candle and flame lamps serving as the only stage lighting, along with a request for no flash photography. I'm not complaining by the way, it was great to be amidst this grotto-like aura. Sorry; too engrossed to be dicking around with the camera.) 'Prayer of Transformation' is the final heroic storm of flailing hair and twilit majesty, and I return to the cool evening air of Salford wide-eyed and half deaf.

If this is indeed my final chance to see the band, it's been simultaneously an awe-inspiring live introduction and suitably climactic farewell.