![]() ![]() I heard their tunesome helium voices pierce through the double-bass drums and Castlevania shredding of the backing band. I watched them traipse through choreography and summon fire and brimstone from the titanic video screen mounted behind them. It's a moist Monday morning in Brooklyn, at the time of the year when the summer heat slowly relents to the breezy autumnal approach, and the two young women of Babymetal are fresh off a heroic set at New York City's Terminal 5 the previous evening. Under infernal studio lights, they hold delicate kitsune hand-signs parallel to their chest - nails painted bright black, lips neutral in a tight line. Draped in radiant crystals, shimmering black capes and Victorianesque frocks, Su-metal and Moametal are unnaturally still.
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