"This one is dedicated to anyone suffering with depression. It may never leave us, but at least we can drown it out with metal." Green Lung might not be the first band you'd turn to for moments of candid poignancy, but judging by the spell they've cast over Brighton tonight, there's a connection the Londoners have forged with their fanbase that goes far beyond their riotously entertaining occulty-wulty schtick.
Not that said schtick isn't brilliantly realised and earnestly delivered: from the band's 70s-indebted stoner-doom riffs and magickal lyrics to their beautifully crafted artwork and impressively decked out stage (skulls! crows! a Dorset Ooser!), Green Lung's sense of world-building is fast becoming as epic as their songs. And what songs: opening with a triple-header of anthemic cuts from this year's fabulous This Heathen Land, the five-piece quickly flex the scale at which their songwriting chops have grown in recent years. The Forest Church and Maxine (Witch Queen) are packing two of 2023's biggest choruses, sung full-heartedly by a packed-out Patterns, while Mountain Throne is pinned around a riff that would make Tony Iommi pull an impressed screw-face.
