Only 30 or so people turned up to see doom metal bands Inter Arma and Woe at the ’Sco last Thursday night, but that didn’t stop it from being an extraordinary concert. It is usually hard for performers to fill a nearly empty ’Sco, but both groups took over the space effortlessly. Their energy was contagious, enticing those familiar with the genre to bang their heads along enthusiastically and prompting the other half to at least nod. The close proximity of the three lead singers to the audience and their demand for eye contact set the tone for the whole show.

Woe and Inter Arma have been on tour together for the past few weeks, and it was obvious that they’ve been having a good time so far. During Inter Arma’s performance, singer Mike Paparo took a break to put on additional layers of clothes thrown to him by the members of Woe, who were hanging out on the side of the stage. The decision added nothing to the performance itself, but it made Paparo come across as someone full of character. The moment felt comfortable, as if the bands were performing for each other.

Woe was a three-man black metal powerhouse. Formed in 2007 in Philadelphia, Woe started as a solo project by singer and guitarist Chris Griggs. After Griggs’s first full-length album in 2008, he brought other musicians to accompany him on his tour; Woe only expanded officially to a four-person lineup in 2010. The members have rotated a few times over the last five years, but Thursday’s lineup consisted of Grzesiek Czapla on bass guitar, Ben Brand on guitar and Ruston Grosse on drums. Griggs did a good job sharing the spotlight — the band swapped in Czapla as lead singer at one point, which was well received by the crowd. The difference in their voices was a transition from whiny and grinding to an aggressive growling. The band’s sound and presence was well summarized by the interests and influences listed on their Facebook page: “[a]nxiety, aggression, big fucking guitar amps.”

Inter Arma, whose name in Latin means “in the midst of arms,” was formed in 2006 in Richmond, VA. Their look, complete with wild hair and beards, fits the stereotype of a metal band, but their music is less obviously defined. For those less versed in the metal genre, Inter Arma was somewhere between the expected and the unexpected. A few of their songs started off deceptively mild but quickly progressed into the tormented, intense howling expected from the black metal songs. Many tunes climaxed in short bursts of focused, heavy sounds, only to descend and rise once again. However, the music was not aggravatingly uncomplicated, and within the songs themselves, tempo and intensity varied. There were hints of sludge metal influences, characterized by a mix of southern rock and a heavy distortion, as well as stoner metal influences when the tempo slowed to a crawl.

After the glaring house lights of the ’Sco were turned on, members of the audience remained in place with shell-shocked looks on their faces. One student gathered his wits and called out to Inter Arma’s drummer, T. J. Childers, expressing awe at the technical skill required to play the band’s final song. In response, Childers snorted and said, “Oh yeah, I wrote that after I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me with an 18-year-old.”

Both bands’ sets challenged the audience to uncover the subtlety within the music. That’s the most rewarding part about the heaviest brand of rock: It speaks to different people in different ways. Next time you feel disillusioned, angry or are having an academics-induced existential crisis, tune into some metal. You’ll finally feel understood.