Mork

Mork, The Furor, and Vestigial live at Milk Bar, Perth | 19 January 2026

Adorned with black t-shirts of past metal bands; Every range of hairy forms of expression, be it male pattern baldness, or a Viking beard and locks. The metal mecca that was Milk Bar was awash with Perth Metalheads. Who came to catch a glimpse of the thunderous sound of Norwegian band Mork and supports Vestigial and The Furor. Punters were lucky to enough to be awash in hedonistic levels of power chords, guttural screams. Settling into a rather intense night of metal.

It was hard to not mention the whiffs of shampoo as the metalheads passed through the

door. With a distinct fruity smell emanating from the lengthy locks of some of the bearded folk. It presented a dichotomy of conflict. Despite the extreme nature of the music, there was something suggestively sensitive about the shampoo being used.

Vestigial were first up, with lead vocalist Mark Leritano providing method levels of commitment to his metal vocals. Speaking in a sandpapery, and rough metal voice outside of the songs his band Vestigial were playing. This allowed their band to stay in the ‘metal-verse’ and keep the tone rough and ready. Although inching towards sounding like a pirate sometimes, this only instilled the needless spirit to raid some booty into the crowd.

Vestigial were awesome, and everything was just loud. There was headbanging, big ‘fuck off’ guitar chords and vocals that growled something from the night ‘o’ sphere. It was fun, and punters were getting amongst it. As they got close to the stage to soak up the opening screams, and machine gun level drum beats.

The iconography got racy with The Furor, with two banners either side of the drums drawing attention to humans getting skewered. A (cannibalistic) feast for the eyes. It was helpful to venture deep into denial and think the banners were depicting human shaped kebabs, and not a Sunday outing at Vlad the Impala’s family get together.

Depending on what school of thought you come from when it comes to any kind of performing. Less is more is the absolute truth in this instance. Wearing two chains across his chest, and armed with just a drum kit, and his screaming vocals. The Furor thrashed out just as much as any 5-piece metal group. Showing that even drummers can shine solo in the local metal scene.

Guided by a backing track, but providing his own vocals and drum beat, The Furor expressed a cacophony of terror, exhilaration and adrenaline fuelled sounds. Simply through the medium of percussion alone. His set was a reminder that to every flashy face-painted metal band lead, there is an integral drummer at the back providing those important and dangerous rhythms.

Some notable highlights to be had in the set between No Furor and Mork was the amusing difficulty of trying to hook a banner up to a stage. With venue staff trying several times to frustrating knot the rope to the stage pillars. As well as one punter one-shotting a stray cockroach crawling across the dancefloor with his boot. In a millisecond frenzy of anti-insect violence, it was tragic to stare and be confused at what patches were spilled drinks and other the remains being the demised cockroach.

Crimes against nature aside, Mork gave punters a crash course in Norwegian. It was hard to tell what they were saying. But they were potentially subliminally driving the punters to raid the north coast of England (the Lindisfarne for any history nerds reading this). With each member covered in face paint, and looking rather ominous. They were stoked to see their Perth fans, thanking them for letting play at their first Australian show, and acknowledging they were fairly jetlagged for making the globe trotting trick.

Still, they launched into the music with the same enthusiasm as any well-rested band. Singing apocalyptic tunes, pumped out wild guitars and stunning the crowd with an artillery of drums. Mork were foreboding as they were loud. Underpinning that playing metal is a truly a test of extremes.

Whether is pushing the vocals till they sound like streaky morning bacon. Or playing with a decibel count that causes your vestibular system to explode, so you can no longer walk back to your car. The night reached fever pitch when a death circle began to form. And metalheads began skating over the spilt mixture of cockroach guts and Jim Beam-and-coke mixers.  With cinematographers filming the spectacle. Live metal is truly an intersectional spectacle of loud music, limitless extremes and celebration of shameless disgust. Mork underpinned this sentiment, and successfully whipped Perth up into a frenzied metal fervour.

Photography by Adrian Thomson

Mork

The Furor

Vestigial