IT’S all about power when an act such as Fire from the Gods rolls into town – the riffs, the beats, the vocals and the substance. Glasgow got a little sample of this Texas juggernaut as they provided the support for The Hu at The Garage recently.

The quintet launched their fury-laden setlist with their commanding track The Voiceless – a brutal opener which showcases the amazing raw talent of singer AJ Channer. His vocals shift from the gritty and primal to soaring and gentle. The verses, so jagged and fierce, smooth into glorious resolution with epic choruses that please no end.

His sharp vocals are by no means his only ability; Channer is capable of dishing out some intense rhymes that would give most rappers a run for their money. It is a fine mixture that has spawned two impressive albums in Narrative Retold and American Sun.

They raise the stakes with edgy renditions of Composition, Another Level and Truth to the Weak. End of Transmission was, as expected, a bit of a highlight along with Right Now, before finishing up with Excuse Me. One notable omission from the set was Victory – an enthralling number, which really would have put a shine on the display.

Fire from the Gods are not just a treat for the senses in performance, they are warriors in the battle for social justice. They sing for equality and freedom from oppression, perhaps best summed up by the message emblazoned on Channer’s jacket: “Rich man’s war; poor man’s blood.”

Their sound is similar to the likes of Nonpoint, Linkin’ Park and Sevendust with a little bit of Gojira and Mudvayne. The guitar tones can cut like a razor and are given license to roam by an incredibly tight rhythm section. And with high-profile dates at Download, Graspop and Nova Rock this summer, the Texas five-piece could be set for a make-or-break 2020. But if their display in Glasgow is anything to go by, they will certainly hold their own.

SETLIST:
The Voiceless
Composition
Another Level
Truth to the Weak (Not Built to Collapse)
In Spite of Doubt
End Transmission
Fight the World
Right Now
Excuse Me