DEVIN TOWNSEND – The Moth (The War-Live)

RELEASE YEAR: 2026
BAND URL: http://www.hevydevy.com

Having been one of the fortunate ones to get a ticket to the live performance of The Moth at De Oosterpoort in Groningen, the Netherlands, in March 2025, rewatching this special event now feels a bit like time travel. It’s an opportunity to relive that magical evening while discovering all the little details I missed the first time around, simply because I was too much in awe of what was unfolding on stage during those 90 minutes. Given that The Moth was still musically unfamiliar to most of the audience, the entire experience was packed with surprises for both the eyes and the ears. So I guess my review will be a mix of what I remember from being there and the fresh impressions brought by revisiting the recording. And now that The Moth has also been released as an album, and I’m much more familiar with the music, it’s certainly easier to focus on everything else that made that evening so special, without trying to grasp the novelty of the music.

For context, I chose to find myself a seated spot during the concert as the stage was quite high, and almost everyone in the audience seems to be taller than me. Usually, the only way for me to properly watch and enjoy a concert is from an elevated seating area, and luckily, De Oosterpoort has exactly that. Even better, everyone around me seemed so mesmerized by the experience that there was barely any noticeable chatter. Praise all the gods for that! Being seated also allowed me to take in the show in its entirety, rather than constantly having to move my head to follow the action, as I probably would have had to do closer to the stage. And given HOW MANY people were on that stage, this turned out to be an advantage. I could appreciate the whole orchestra, the performers, and the projected animations as one big spectacle. The downside, of course, was that I couldn’t see many of the finer details up close. That’s why I’m particularly excited that the video recording now gives me the chance to revisit the performance from angles I couldn’t experience in person.

One thing that crossed my mind after the show, and came back to me almost immediately when I started watching the video, was just how unusual it is to see Devin without a guitar on stage. Not that it’s necessarily strange, but I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen him perform guitarless before, apart from when he donned a tutu for his mini-opera song Why. And even then, he was surrounded by some rather pretty ladies and an assortment of stage props!

Throughout The Moth, Devin stood on a box- or suitcase-like riser near the edge of the stage, surrounded by a bunch of fluffy plushies (which totally belong at a Devin concert, be it with orchestra and stuff). He used that little platform to elevate himself for some epic vocal moments, or to “hide” by crouching down and letting the other musicians take the spotlight. The sheer amount of squatting he did throughout the show made me admire his flexibility. I imagine it must also have been quite a challenge for Devin to perform without his guitar, finding the right balance between acting out the angry and softer moments, delivering operatic passages and spoken words, unleashing dramatic metal screams and almost growling, and sharing vocal duets with Lynn Wu. It’s a very different kind of stage presence from what we’re used to seeing from him, and one that makes this performance all the more fascinating and probably more emotion driven. Besides the mobility, I can’t help but also admire the overall singing performance and the fact that it seemed he never needed any text reminders for such a long piece and with so few breaks between his vocal parts.

Thumbs up to whoever was responsible for the camera setup! I’m not sure whether the cameras were only there for one of the nights (obviously, not the one I attended), or whether they were so cleverly hidden that I simply never noticed them. Watching the recording, it’s clear that plenty of cameras were discreetly positioned along the sides of the stage, while some mobile, almost drone-like cameras provided spectacular overhead angles. The editing and stitching together of all that footage must have been quite a task, but the final result is beautifully executed. The video feels dynamic and immersive, capturing both the many emotional and artistic facets of Devin Townsend and the contributions of everyone else involved, and it makes sure to highlight some core moments of the performance.

We get plenty of glimpses of the fantastic orchestra, its conductor Jukka Iisakkila, the choir members, and the rest of the band: Darby Todd on drums, Mike Keneally on guitars and keyboards, James Leach on bass, and Lynn Wu of the China-based band Ou, who performed the female vocal parts on both the album and the live show. Sadly, Anneke van Giersbergen wasn’t able to join the performance, so her part was represented by an adorable pinkish axolotl singing on the big screen. And the video editors also found a way to include many of the highlights from the projected animations. Kudos to the animators, too! It would be lovely to have this movie available as a bonus feature somewhere (it might be and I might have missed the info). We get the good guys, the evil ones, the unicorns, and, most importantly, the puppies.

Unlike a typical Devin Townsend concert, where his wit and banter are a constant presence between songs while the musicians tune their instruments, there’s very little talking from Devin here. But then again, there’s hardly any room for it. The opera keeps flowing, rarely offering a break, especially when it comes to Devin’s vocals. And those vocals are all over the place, covering an incredible range of soft, delicate passages and harsh, intense outbursts. I could already sense this while watching the performance live, but now, having had the chance to properly listen to and digest The Moth album, I can finally appreciate how much it feels like the culmination of everything Devin has been creating over the past many years.

I’ve really admired and enjoyed his more recent releases, roughly those from the pandemic onwards. Not that his earlier work isn’t worth enjoying, of course, but that’s beside the point here. Looking back, those more recent albums almost feel like small steps towards building this enormous musical moth (how bad of a pun would be to call it motholith?). You can hear elements of The Moth scattered throughout them, as Devin experiments, tests boundaries, and explores different musical territories. What might once have seemed like individual creative playgrounds now comes together as a fully realised, polished, and utterly epic whole. And experiencing that whole live, with all its emotional intensity and sensory overload, must have been something close to superhuman.

For me, this becomes particularly evident just before the final song, during which we’re reminded that we don’t deserve dogs. Puppies and kittens start appearing on the screen, while a heavily breathing Devin sinks to his knees, facing the images rather than the audience. He’s smiling at the adorable creatures, yet at the same time seems completely overwhelmed, almost into tears. It’s such a simple, vulnerable, and profoundly human moment amid all the musical grandeur, and this moment was easy to miss live. I can only imagine what it must feel like to finally release a piece of music you’ve been working on for so many years, especially something of this magnitude. I have no idea what that must mean to Devin personally, but I’m simply glad that he made it happen and that we get to experience it.

I’m not usually a fan of live recordings that document just another concert by a band I love seeing live. However, when a performance is something genuinely special, that’s a different story. An album performed with an orchestra, songs rearranged for a unique lineup, or a concert built around an ambitious and distinctive concept? Those are the live releases I love to watch and listen to, and, whenever time and finances allow, experience in person. The Moth live was absolutely one of those occasions, and I’m beyond thrilled that I got to attend it. Looking back now, I realise just how enormous the entire musical experience was, even more so than when I first walked out of the venue. I remember leaving feeling overwhelmed and filled with all sorts of impressions that I could barely contain within my brain and even body. There were so many of them, and they were so vivid, that I struggled to make sense of them all. In the days that followed, I could only recall scattered moments and fragments of the evening. It wasn’t until I revisited the entire performance on video that those memories started to come together again. And the feeling of awe hasn’t diminished yet.

I’m also someone who rarely bothers watching phone recordings of live music, so having a professionally filmed version of the actual performance is a real treat. From my perspective, the release of The Moth live recording is a blessing, both for those of us lucky enough to have been there and for everyone who didn’t get the chance but still admires Devin’s genius as a live performer. Add a fantastic orchestra and an outstanding live band to the mix, and you have something truly special.

And please, don’t let the fact that it contains a live burp put you off. If anything, that’s just another little reminder that even the most epic, emotionally overwhelming, larger-than-life musical experiences are still wonderfully human.

Note: text has been beautified with the help of an AI, for the sake of rephrasing the superlatives.

The Moth (The War-Live in Groningen), from the live premiere of this magnificent work in March 2025. Now available as CD & Blu-ray edition, as well as digital audio, will will be released on 6^th November 2026