Behemoth - In Absentia Dei (3LP)

Behemoth’s In Absentia Dei isn’t just a stopgap live release. It’s a document of a band making a theatre out of necessity, then turning that theatre into something grand and very physical. The performance was captured during a worldwide live stream on 5 September 2020, staged in a secret, abandoned church somewhere in Poland. The audio and video set then landed via Nuclear Blast on 17 December 2021, with a proper 3LP, 2CD and Blu-ray treatment for anyone who likes their chaos preserved with care. If you’ve ever chased Behemoth vinyl, this one earns a spot next to The Satanist and Evangelion without feeling like an add-on.

The selling point is right there in the acoustics. You can hear stone and air in the cymbal tails and the way Nergal’s voice sits in the mix, not diffused, but lifted by the space around it. Inferno’s drumming stays razor sharp, yet the room gives his blasts a menacing bloom. Orion’s bass growls like a trapped engine, and Seth’s second guitar stitches riffs with a precision that keeps the set from ever slumping. The production doesn’t sand anything down. It presents a band that knows exactly how to pace an evening and how to make a camera feel like the sixth member.

It works as a career-spanning set too. The songs from The Satanist still feel like modern classics and they hit like that here. Ora Pro Nobis Lucifer doesn’t just rally the crowd, it breathes with a patience that the studio cut hinted at, then explodes when the refrain lands. O Father O Satan O Sun remains a closer that refuses to be outdone, fusing ceremony and swing in a way few extreme metal bands can manage. From I Loved You At Your Darkest, Bartzabel thrives in this environment. The toms sound ritualistic, the chant-like cadence feels colder, and the guitars glow under all that torchlight.

Older bruisers hold their ground. Conquer All still bites with that Demigod churn, all slicing tremolo and catastrophic drops. Chant for Eschaton 2000, a perennial set highlight, turns the church into a sweatbox, the tempo just right for a last burst of frenzy before the closing rites. The sequencing tells a story with peaks and lulls that feel earned. It’s not a greatest hits bash. It’s a rehearsal of identity in front of whoever was watching at home, at a time when stages were dark and connection felt scarce.

Visually, the show had a reputation straight away. Flames, dust, hanging drapery, and enough ash and sparks to make your lounge room smell like a festival memory. You feel all of that even on the audio only version, which is why this set thrives on turntables. The In Absentia Dei vinyl pressing gives the low end room to breathe and keeps the top end crisp without turning brittle. Spin it loud and the floorboards start to sympathise with Inferno’s feet. If you haunt a Melbourne record store on weekends, you’ll know exactly the kind of late night this was built for. And if you’d rather buy Behemoth records online, the variants for this run offered some handsome colour options that highlight the artwork’s scorched palette.

There’s also the simple pleasure of hearing a band so sure of its craft that the spectacle never steamrolls the playing. Nergal doesn’t crowd the space between songs. He lets the ambience do the talking, then counts in the next onslaught. When the choruses hit, he rides the phrasing like a seasoned frontman instead of barking through checkpoints. The rhythm section moves like a single organism. Blastbeats are fierce but never frantic. Slow parts breathe, not because the band is easing off, but because they know the tension payoff only comes when you give the air a second to settle.

For anyone collecting Behemoth albums on vinyl, this is more than merch from the lockdown era. It captures a particular moment in heavy music, when bands had to invent their own venues and audiences gathered across time zones. Plenty of acts tried live streams in 2020, but very few turned them into artefacts that stand up in the cold light of a new year. This one does. If you’re riffling through crates of vinyl records Australia wide and see In Absentia Dei vinyl staring back, don’t overthink it. Put it under your arm, take it home, and let that church reverb seep into your living room. It’s a reminder that Behemoth’s theatre, for all its fire and fury, is built on songs that endure.