Live review: Sleep Token, London The O2

Put Sleep Token in any room and they will fill it. That logic was as true when they were playing 2,000-cap rooms three years ago as it is now in rooms almost 10-times the size. And, indeed, will be the case at Download.

The arena concourse is already swarming with fans in Sleep Token shirts and hoodies well before doors, and the queue for their merch pop-up next door is, frankly, absurd. But not a surprise. This is what a phenomenon looks like – one of the most important not just of this decade, but even this century.

The influx of early arrivals means that openers Bilmuri have a packed house to entertain – and God, they are entertaining. Even as support on their first UK jaunt, their vibrant, no-genres-barred tunes punch hard in the expansive dome of The O2, from bombastic opener EMPTYHANDED and country-flecked angst of ALL GAS to infections closer BETTER HELL (Thicc boi).

Between songs, frontman Jonny Franck’s unfiltered banter is wonderfully deranged. “Do you like coming? Do you like coming back? Do you wanna come back to see us [on a headline tour] in March?” he crows. Bubbly saxophonist Gabi Rose is also a joy to watch (with a killer singing voice to boot). As foils to each other, they make great stage companions. Sleep Token have a notorious penchant for left-field openers who haven't always gelled with the crowd. Tonight, Bilmuri break that chain. Turns out all they needed was a guy who will yell “WE CRANK SUPER HOG!”

Sleep Token, however, mean more serious business. Under a formidable canopy of lights, Vessel appears alone for stately, skeletal opener The Night Does Not Belong To God. He seems dwarfed by the production around him, vulnerable even. The sight of this small figure on a huge stage is rather profound, yet speaks to the emotional weight of the occasion. Somehow, expelling his pain has brought him somewhere he might have never expected to be.

In some ways, it doesn’t feel like a typical arena show. Beyond the retina-burning light show, it’s not that outlandish, there’s no between-song chat, and if you have seen a Sleep Token Ritual before then there isn’t much that’s new. It's just larger. Their Eras tour-style setlist where they play select songs from each album in chronological order mostly comprises songs they have played a lot in the last few years – though the fragile Missing Limbs makes a very welcome return. It’s very much in character for them, but it does highlight that they probably didn't truly expect to end up somewhere like this, particularly not so fast.

However, by the time they get to Take Me Back To Eden, a gear shifts. It’s not just their magnum opus, but it’s their arena album. As the jaw-dropping chainsaw riffs of Chokehold strike, everything comes together. The Summoning is equally seismic, even with a cackle-inducing moment where Vessel kneels down and guitarist IV sits on his back to play the solo.

There are two genuinely awe-inspiring moments to come. The first is Ascensionism, starting as an otherworldly hymn where a whole arena can hear Vessel breathe and ending as a storm of feeling where he screams, 'You make me wish I could disappear' with devastating impact.

The second is the elegant Euclid, which is nothing short of magical. There’s a sea of phone lights, Vessel’s crying and thousands of others are probably sobbing, too.

These are the moments that hammer home why Sleep Token are continuing to break new ceilings. If they deliver more moments like this at Download, potentially with some new songs too, they have the potential to do something even more historic.

Get your copy of Kerrang! Presents Sleep Token now – a limited-edition 64-page magazine and giant A2 poster