Once again, it’s a weekend to remember as ADTR, Neck Deep, Hot Milk, Alkaline Trio, Scowl and many more bring the noise to Hatfield and Leeds at Slam Dunk 2025…
And we're off – festival season has begun! And in 2025, Slam Dunk has gone even harder than normal, finally giving A Day To Remember their headline slot after years of demand, putting mainstays Neck Deep within leaping distance of doing it next time, gathering together legends like New Found Glory, Alkaline Trio, The Used and Less Than Jake, and showing just how exciting the new breed are with more first-timers hitting Hatfield Park and Temple Newsam than ever before.
You had Hot Milk crowning the Kerrang! Stage, Stray From The Path doing serious mosh business on the Main Stage, and Electric Callboy throwing a party for the ages. Oh, and a crowdsurfing Cookie Monster.
Feeling angsty? Sweet Pill have got you. Undaunted by the prospect of being the first band to step onstage today, the Philly quartet play in a whirl of grit and passion. There’s something about the rippling riffs of Where The Heart Is, the easygoing chug of Starchild and the emotional storm surge of Cut that feels perfect under the day’s overcast skies. But it’s not all frowns. “We still hate Greggs, it’s awful,” quips vocalist Zayna Youssef to a chorus of boos. “I like Wetherspoons, though.” There’s an unexpected moment of hilarity too during Dog Song where she encourages the crowd to bark. When it comes to opening festivals, they really understand the assignment. (EW)
Slam Dunk is covered by a duvet of grey today, but cutting through the cloud and already bringing the lightning are Lake Malice. Powered by silver-clad dancers, chunky riffs and a bring-it-on attitude, the duo are more than happy to wake up a hazy Hatfield as the first to play the Kerrang! Stage. “Good fucking morning!” Alice Guala roars, smiling from ear-to-ear. Magic Square makes for quite the alarm, and for the savage drop in Mitsuko, she doesn’t even need to count us in for a pit, we’ve already got it covered. A beautifully brutal start to the day. (RR)
Defects frontman Tony Maue can barely contain himself to Leeds’ massive Main Stage East. “Believe me, I wanna come out there,” he gasps as the crackle of End Of Days and Lockdown spark a groggy crowd into life. “But I can’t because I’m just too fucking wired!” Self-evidently. Adrenaline pulsates through every second of a bold half-hour of power as the rising Brit-metallers pass the test of stepping up to a legit festival main stage with flying colours. A first-ever play of new song Heresy hints at grandstanding melodic metal possibility on the horizon, but it's the harder-edged attack of Broken Bloodlines and Recurring that sees Sunday's first pits opened and fists flung in righteous anger. (SL)
Kid Bookie doesn’t seem to be having the best weekend. Piled-up scheduling and the sun finally coming out means he comes on to a half-full Key Club tent in Leeds, and things seem to spiral from there. Offstage upheaval means that new backing musicians “Mike and George” have only had two days to learn this set. “Let's usher in a new era!” Bookie announces optimistically. But this isn’t the fresh start he’d been yearning for right from the get-go. The on-tape contributions from Griffin and Corey Taylor on Get Out and Stuck In My Ways don’t seem to be entirely synced up. Then, for the second time this weekend, technical difficulties derail matters entirely, with Bookie, understandably infuriated, reverting to a shambolic mass sing-along of Oasis’ Wonderwall to lift the vibe, before the performance is cut short altogether. It’s a messy rollercoaster of euphoria and anger, yes, but also one of the most thrillingly real moments of the weekend from a man who refuses to ever go down without a fight. (SL)
“Alright Leeds, we're gonna warm you up today!” grins Hit The Lights frontman Nick Thompson with a practised professionalism that would put even Neck Deep’s patented ‘Generic Pop Punk’ to shame. The thing is, with icy rain showers sweeping across the site, a little formulaic warming up is exactly what’s needed. Spring-loaded and unapologetically saccharine, classics cuts from Bodybag and Speakers Blown to The Real – whose parent LP Summer Bones is celebrating a 10th anniversary – can’t fail to hit the spot. Still reeling from the death of guitarist Kyle Maite in 2022 there is an undercurrent of melancholy, too, but most impressive is how they hold focus on the good times, transporting this huge crowd on a tide of excellent vibes from todays soggy field in England to some sunbaked parking lot at the height of the Warped Tour. (SL)
Sophie Powers oozes cool because she’s completely unserious. Before Slam Dunk even sees her, she’s talking to us over the PA, hidden away backstage and letting us know she’ll be out in just a tick. No biggie. That lighthearted spirit appears in bursts among tracks, but as a performer, she oozes swagger and audacity. She struts through Nosebleed and U Love It (one for “the baddies”), her talkative approach assertive and decorated with vocal frys, making for a Charli xcx-does-Warped demeanour. We are absolutely here for it. (RR)
Dream State have been kicking around for a hot minute but, amazingly, today marks their first Slam Dunk appearance in seven years. It's no surprise that a healthy crowd pack out Main Stage East, as Jessie Powell's godlike cleans battle against the harsh Hatfield wind – although her screams tend to come out on top. Bloom harkens back to Meteora-era Linkin Park, while circle-pits drown out the synth-rock of Primrose. “I've dreamed of this day since I came to this festival 10 years ago,” says Jessie, almost in disbelief. Keep dreaming, we say. (RS)
Technical issues struck the Key Club Stage early this morning, and the knock-on delays postpone Greywind’s arrival by half an hour. The issues haven’t been totally ironed out either, as towards the end of opener You’re My Medicine, vocalist Steph O’Sullivan is forced to improvise when her already-too-quiet microphone cuts out. “No-one saw that, right?” she jokes. They make a valiant effort throughout steely new cut I.K.A.M.F. and the mountainous Here’s Your Deathwish, but while the sound fares better, the frustration spills into her vocals to the point that she periodically appears to be shouting. It’s a real shame – despite their resolve, this just wasn’t their day. (EW)
There’s lots of people eager to rewind the clock to 2015. Knuckle Puck have proven quite the draw as they celebrate their debut album Copacetic hitting double digits, but while the crowd eagerly absorb every drop of nostalgia they’re offered, these songs aren’t quite done justice. Bogged down by a watery sounding mix, they don’t sound as huge as they deserve to, while vocalist Joe Taylor seems a little off, energetic but unfocused. Sadly, everything’s not quite so copacetic after all. (EW)
Half of Hatfield has flocked to Point North’s set this afternoon, forming the biggest crowd at the Kerrang! Stage so far. The Los Angeles pair are pretty stoked about it, too, given this year’s absolutely stacked line-up, and for those checking them out, it inevitably turns out to be a solid choice. They completely tear through Safe And Sound and the resilient Bring Me Down, with vocalist Jon Lundin warning, ‘Fool me once, fool me twice, you’ll pay the price,’ as he exercises the extents of his vocal range. For them to not return to the UK after today would be criminal. (RR)
Timing issues mean that Winona Fighter have to wrap up sooner than planned. What this means is that the Nashville punks simply compress their already hyper-energetic show down into an even more kinetic blur than usual. You Look Like A Drunk Phoebe Bridgers is as much fun as its title, while I'M IN THE MARKET TO PLEASE NO ONE's name is a total lie, as singer/guitarist Coco Kinnon shows what a total star she is, bouncing around like an atom in a supercollider, apparently unable to stop for even a second. A cover of Beastie Boys banger Sabotage gives an extra kick up the arse before they depart, and they leave having made a convincing bid to be one of the most fun bands of the weekend. (NR)
There’s something of a buzz in the air as Imminence make their Slam Dunk debut to an ever-growing hoard of fans on the hunt for something heavier amongst the various shades of pop-punk and emo. You wouldn’t normally associate violin-led metalcore with this place, but the Swedes are having a bit of a moment right now, with their London show just being upgraded to the renowned Roundhouse later this year. Dressed for the still-grey-and-windy-but-hopeful weather, frontman Eddie Berg strolls the stage in a rather fetching jacket, flanked by his all-black-everything army of metallic warriors, who deliver one of the heaviest sets of the weekend. The symphonic flourishes and ethereal textures do much to take their brand of metalcore to the next level, bringing the thousands gathered under their pitch-dark spell – shout out to the crowdsurfer dressed as a French mime artist – but some of the crushing weight does unfortunately get eaten by the wind. And while they might they still be missing that one big crossover song to hook in more casual metallers, this brief but brutal outing is nothing short of a win for a band who will no doubt return higher up the bill. (LM)
It’s been way too long without I See Stars at Slam Dunk, with the quartet’s last appearance way back in 2012. They cook up some of the biggest pits on this patch of the park so far, with their latest material, namely Drift and Split, being especially exciting. Not once does their focus dip, with Devin Oliver keeping a stern look, overseeing the movement surrounding the Kerrang! Stage and surveying where things need to step up. No gimmicks, no gushing, I See Stars take care of business. (RR)
“Let’s show them how we do it in Cleveland!” roars Heart Attack Man’s Eric Egan. In truth, their lively showing in the Key Club tent is giving their hometown a very, very good name. The dorky Joyride The Pale Horse feels like a sackful of the sunshine Hatfield didn’t get today, while The Gallows packs an uproarious bounce that makes it far more jubilant than its name implies. They wrap things up with the ragged Fake Blood, which immediately has the fans bouncing down the front. Prime real estate pop-punk it may be, but it might also make them the unsung heroes of this year’s Slam Dunk. (EW)
Confounding as it is to think at this point, only a few years ago Marseilles monsters LANDMVRKS felt like metalcore young guns on the outside looking in. Now, they deliver with mammoth full force to a sprawling crowd of adoring fans. Many contemporaries have referred to frontman Flo Salfati as one of heavy music’s ‘unicorns’ – a vocalist who can sing, scream, rap and rage with equal proficiency – and songs like A Line In The Dust (featuring While She Sleeps’ Mat Welsh today) and Sulfur are prime vehicles with which to showcase such peerless talent. Shit is kicking off and there’s an almighty crush down the front by the time they pile into gargantuan closer Self-Made Black Hole, but this crowd’s breath was already taken away. Sacré bleu! (SL)
“I’ve wanted to play this festival for so long,” admits Free Throw vocalist and guitarist Cory Castro, but it’s the reward for a tumultuous journey. Not only were they stranded in an airport, their airline lost one of their guitars – and then there were the aforementioned delays on their stage. Never to stay beaten down for long, their scrappy punk is instantly met with the love of punters who have clearly held their music close like a cosy old jumper. There’s big screams for the rugged Tongue Tied, while fan-favourite Two Beers In offers a giant shot of fuzzy, big-hearted joy. Evidently, if you like Free Throw, you love Free Throw – and it’s not hard to see why. (EW)
Tons of American accents, breakdowns and catchy chorus hooks are gracing the festival site today, but Rain City Drive win the gold medal for the most immense synth sound. Purple and green lighting overhangs the Florida quintet – dressed in their all-black uniform – matching the urban feel that their sound brings to the Kerrang! Stage. Pop-rock behemoth Over Me is the surprising highlight, winning over a subdued but intrigued crowd who embrace its melody with open arms. (RS)
There's a particular joy to be had seeing punters desperately fleeing one circle-pit only to find themselves tangled up in another. It's a scene that replays constantly through Stray From The Path’s demolition of Main Stage East as the chaos spreads out from front and centre through one of the largest and most fired-up gatherings of the day. Taking the opportunity to announce new album Clockworked – out this Friday – they demand more and more, as fresh cuts Kubrick Stare and Shot Caller tease the kind of a gnarly treat fans are in for. Three circles? Easy. 100 crowd surfers in one song? No problem. A righteous sing-along to Goodnight Alt-Right that could be heard all the way back in America? You got it. Unstoppable stuff stuff from one of heavy music’s most increasingly important bands. (SL)
Sunday afternoons should always be as sexy as taking a tumble in the grass with Mouth Culture. Temperatures are spiking in Leeds and the Leicester trio make no apologies for stoking them further with the body rocking rhythms of No Shame and Dead In Love. There’s an unselfconscious chorus of horny shrieks from the crowd, too, as swivel-hipped frontman Jack Voss peels off his shirt for the set’s final third, with the swaggering, tumescent closing salvo of Don’t Pull Up and Ratbag delivering just the climax many in attendance seem to be search for. Jack and the boys are quick to reassure they’ll be ready to go again soon, too, with autumn’s biggest-ever headline tour across the UK promised to be even more gasp-inducing. Pack protection. (SL)
NOAHFINNCE always fosters a lovely environment at his shows. His set on the Kerrang! Stage this afternoon hosts both mosh-pits and small offshoots where pals dance together and form conga lines. The duality is all rather apt for the guy who struts out to Hannah Montana’s The Best Of Both Worlds before tearing into the angsty I KNOW BETTER. He certainly knows his audience. Though he may summarise himself as “If Green Day were 10x more cringe” prior to LIFE’S A BIT, his set is both hilarious and high-power. To be cringe is to be free, after all… (RR)
Hot Mulligan feel like a quintessentially ‘Slam Dunk’ band at this point. Bridging the land of easygoing pop-punk and the more earnest, impassioned blue-collar world of outfits like The Menzingers, The Wonder Years and Spanish Love Songs, there’s something for almost everyone here. How Do You Know It’s Not Armadillo Shells? salves the heartbroken. Gans Media Retro Games injects a shot of playfulness for those just after a good time. The anthemic BCKYRD taps into a sense of sepia-toned nostalgia that speaks to every lost soul trying to reconnect to when they were young. Admittedly, the Michigan crew’s cocktail of emotion would be even more potent in more intimate surrounds, but every shot hits the mark. No passes required. (SL)
Are we at a festival or a club right now? South Arcade blur the lines in the best possible way. Combined with the Key Club’s fancy new backlights and sound loud enough to feel in your ribcage, their neon-splattered trip back to the dawn of Y2K is just as fun as it sounds on paper. The Oxford quartet are certainly in the party spirits, bassist Ollie Green and guitarist Harry Wink pogoing on the spot while vocalist Harmony Cavelle eggs the crowd on. “If we play the new one you’re going to go off, right?” she asks before they launch into the fizzing Supermodel. This lot have the potential to be festival mainstays of the future. (EW)
“Beautiful weather, no?” ponders Finch singer Nate Barcalow. Slam Dunk looks collectively confused. “Well, I like it.” Though dry but drab, Hatfield certainly creates a bit of pathetic fallacy for the Cali emo quintet, as they blare through classics like Stay With Me and even treat us to new, unfamiliar material. Almost 25 years on from their What It Is To Burn album, of course they finish up with its treasured title-track, fostering a touching response of unified singing from Slam Dunk. It’s a track that holds memories, letting us all pause for a moment in sonder. (RR)
“It’s the start of festival season, baby!” crows an eager Sam McTrusty. It’s no wonder he’s so eager to fire the starting gun when these fields full of smiling fans might well be considered Twin Atlantic’s natural habitat. The Glaswegians rock out like they’re in a stadium as opposed to a park, launching into banger after banger from the muscular Salvation to the adrenalised No Sleep. Sam bounces on the balls of his feet as he bashes his guitar strings for the almighty Brothers And Sisters, while Heart And Soul is pure festival gold. “After all these years of playing shows, you still turn up to see us,” he says. Even an idiot can see why. (EW)
You want heavy? Graphic Nature gives you heavy. Stepping into the packed Key Club is a thrillingly visceral experience as the Kent boys unleash the juddering, nu-metal flavoured sounds of Killing Floor and White Noise with serrated cutting edge and machine-like power. There’s sensitivity, too, as frontman Harvey Freeman delivers an impassioned speech on the importance of talking about men’s mental heath before a crushing Human. And although they’re not above a bit of contrived sit down/jump the fuck up audience participation (“No-one is too cool… I've seen your Instagram accounts!”) the unbridled catharsis of closer Fractured underlines proceedings with thrilling authenticity. Harvey even knows how to sign off with the ferocious Yorkshire faithful on the best possible terms: “Alright, you've made South look like a right bunch of mugs!” Yes, lad. (SL)
With both Neck Deep – the modern heirs to New Found Glory’s throne – and ADTR coming up, NFG opening with All Downhill From Here couldn't possibly be further from the truth. Nevertheless, it inevitably sends Hatfield into raptures all the way back to the sound tower, as Jordan Pundik canters around the stage like an excitable Dalmatian. It's fairly obvious that many are here for their nostalgia dose, and sure enough, Hit Or Miss and My Friends Over You tick that box just fine, but new single 100% does a sterling job of turning crossed arms into fully-fledged headbanging. There's a heartwarming chant for absent guitarist Chad Gilbert, still at home recovering from cancer treatment, and his bandmates do him proud. Clearly, New Found Glory still have a few aces up their sleeve. (RS)
Perched on a bucolic hillside out in Leeds’ late afternoon sunshine, The Used have picked an odd setting to celebrate 25 years with a full run-through of their complex, internalised, self-titled debut, but they storm on with characteristically spiky aplomb. Performing signature songs The Taste Of Ink and A Box Full Of Sharp Objects (performed with The Blackout’s Sean Smith today) in sequence, the focus turns to deeper cuts like Bulimic, Say Days Ago and (a surprisingly apt) Greener With The Scenery. A few punters are visibly disappointed by the decision to eschew proven festival bangers Take It Away and Pretty Handsome Awkward, but far more relish the opportunity to roll back the years and reconnect with the angst from a whole generation ago. And, judging by the impassioned sing-alongs from kids up on parents’ shoulders, these old songs still have a whole lot of mileage in them yet. (SL)
As It Is are back for good. Just let that sink in for a moment. Their return to Slam Dunk is not just part of a Never Happy, Ever After 10-year anniversary run, it’s just the start of a whole new beginning for the beloved Brighton pop-punks. The band glow onstage, radiating genuine euphoria and often stopping to soak up the gratitude of their homecoming. Not here to party alone, they've also brought some friends. Guest vocalists from the re-release of their debut make appearances in turns, from Artio’s Rae Brazill, to Trash Boat’s Tobi Duncan, NOAHFINNCE and more. Here’s to the next 10, 20, even 30 years – may they be equally as teary-eyed and terrific. (RR)
“Are you ready for some female rage?” yells Delilah Bon. After waiting patiently through continued technical delays, they’re raring to go, and so is she. Strutting across the stage in fluffy pink ankle warmers, she’s fierce from start to finish, whether leaning into the sass on the spiky nu-metal rager Brat and the Slim-Shady-turned-feminist style Evil, Hate Filled Female, or unlocking her fury on the seething yet defiant Dead Men Don’t Rape. While there’s righteous anger fuelling all of this, there’s a life-affirming joy too, particularly as she snarls through the uplifting Maverick. Half-hour of power? How about a half-hour of empowerment? (EW)
At this point, Neck Deep course through the veins of Slam Dunk. Having worked their way across every stage here, this marks their largest set yet. In true Neck Deep style, it’s full of colour and humour and passion. Prior to Take Me With You, Ben Barlow spots his kind of people – alien enthusiasts. He points to those holding inflatable extraterrestrials, and outlines our only options for the future: world peace, or we may as well “Get sucked off… up?” by UFOs. Completed by a tender rendition of the Neck Deep sing-along Part Of Me (which leaves Ben teary eyed and barely even needing to approach the mic) and a confetti shower for their beloved closer In Bloom, they prove themselves as Slam Dunk titans. All that’s left to do is headline… (RR)
Want an impossible task? Try watching a Less Than Jake set with a frown on. You can’t do it, not when their chipper spirits are as infectious as they are. They bring an hour of non-stop feel-good energy, bounding through the jittery History Of A Boring Town and the chirpy Sunny Side while the punters chuck yellow balloons that dropped from the ceiling among themselves. They even try to cajole their fans out of mosh retirement with the rickety punk of Last One Out Of Liberty City – and it works. They may have been doing this for longer than some of these punters have been alive, but it seems they could never tire of playing shows. (EW)
Split Chain have come a long way in the past 12 months. Still relatively unknown when they cropped up as a last-minute addition to last year’s Download and as grungy outsiders at Outbreak, they’ve honed a sound and built a following that oozes cult appeal at their first-ever Slam Dunk. With feverishly anticipated first album motionblur due in July, this weekend is an opportunity to experience the weight and texture of I’m Not Dying To be Here, Subside and bored. tired. torn. for the first time in the flesh. It’s still the huge, an unabashedly Deftones-inflected Future that rocks the hardest, with threads running from alt.rock’s storied past and arrows pointing to even bigger sounds to come. (SL)
“Why the fuck are you guys here instead of watching Neck Deep or Electric Callboy?!” Sam Matlock smiles wryly towards the beginning of WARGASM’s Kerrang! Stage onslaught. Going up against two of Slam Dunk 2025's heaviest hitters – not to mention festival stalwarts Less Than Jake – leaves the London punks playing to just a few hundred fans, but as the indomitable firestarters insist, “It's all about quality over quantity, right?” Fair play, they crank the volume to an obnoxious level (reportedly even drowning out Callboy for some of those standing towards the back of their crowd) and electrifying songs like Fukstar and D.R.I.L.D.O with even more voltage and venom than normal. Other bands would be dispirited, but they find an almost perverse pleasure in wrenching triumph from the jaws of defeat. “We are WARGASM. We are not here to be anyone’s friend,” Sam spits, even in the face of this distillation of their most fanatical faithful. “Show me how much you hate me!” (SL)
When Electric Callboy graced this exact stage in 2022, few could've predicted their post-Hypa Hypa viral moment would've seen them ascend to this. Thousands await their headline set, a good portion in fancy dress, be it the We Got The Moves wigs or the Pump It headbands.
Nico and Kevin rule the stage from minute one, piling confetti, pyro, glittery jackets and blink-182-esque horny stage chat into a predictably colourful headline set. Introducing Sum 41 drummer Frank Zummo, who is filling in for the Germans this summer, Kevin suddenly teases that “he also brought some music with him”. And just like that, Still Waiting – Callboy style – sends Hatfield’s jaw to the floor, three songs in.
Elevator Operator finds another gear live, while the majestic debut performance of Revery proves their newest chapter could eclipse their last. The only thing holding them back might be their choice to include four covers, needing to take that final leap of faith in the quality of their own art. Because on paper, and the basis of today, there's nothing stopping Electric Callboy from becoming established UK festival headliners. (RS)
Scowl aren't here to muck about. Even the time lag on the Key Club Stage meaning they're duking it out with A Day To Remember can't put so much as a fingerprint on the California hardcore gang's unstoppable momentum. Older bangers like the pithy Fuck Around show off the band's bulldozer power in full flight, but it's stuff from their excellent new Are We All Angels album that lifts them. More widescreen, more grungy, more designed for big stages like this, B.A.B.E. and Tonight (I'm Afraid) sound gargantuan, with Kat Moss' voice in particularly mighty form. Perhaps not the crowning achievement they deserve, but another tick for a band who simply don't do bad. (NR)
Odd as it seems these days, Alkaline Trio once had a reputation for wild inconsistency in the live arena. Some nights they’d be demons from hell, ready to rip your face off. Others, they’d be (barely) reanimated corpses seemingly unable to do their catalogue of cast-iron goth-punk classics justice. In 2025, they’ve settled into a groove, knowing exactly what it takes to delight crowds of tens of thousands of creaking devotees as they take whistle-stop trip down their gleefully shadowy memory lane.
Dropping Time To Waste, Armageddon and Emma in an awesome first 10 minutes, it’s even clearer than normal that there will be no fucking around. Stupid Kid, Mercy Me and Warbrain delight the faithful. Private Eye is still one of the best songs of its generation. Even new songs Bad Time and Blood, Hair & Eyeballs go down a storm. And although those with long memories will always yearn for the sheer lightning-in-a-bottle unpredictability of their basement days, there’s arguably even greater pleasure to be found in seeing thousands at an event like this singing along to the iconic first lines of Radio: ‘Shaaaking like a dog shitting razorblades.’ Never change, lads. (SL)
Hot Milk’s Kerrang! Stage headliner is medicinal, for all involved. It’s Saturday fucking night after all, and we know the band can throw a party – a vibe successfully achieved with the likes of Insubordinate Ingerland and PARTY ON MY DEATHBED. While lively pits prevent Han Mee from getting “very fucking cross”, 90 Seconds To Midnight and Swallow This show the ferocity that they can deliver, putting Tom Paton and Harry Deller back in the rhythm section successfully through their paces.
This is a festival Han first started going to when she was just 16, so as Slam Dunk sings BREATHING UNDERWATER straight back to them without guidance, she watches in awe. “Fucking hell, Slam Dunk,” beams Jim Shaw in disbelief. They make us proud to be part of the church of Hot Milk. We give thanks for a day of glorious music, but may still need to repent a sin or two. Amen. (RR)
The fans asked for A Day To Remember for years, and the festival listened. On paper, it seemed perfect, not least because if there’s a Slam Dunk sound, they epitomise every part of it, from breakdowns to roar-worthy choruses. Oh yeah, and they’ve got more bangers than your average butcher.
With such a stacked discography, the Ocala quintet have plenty of opportunities to flex. Opening with the suitably rowdy The Downfall Of Us All is a perfectly pitched power move and a skin-flaying 2nd Sucks is much of the same, while closing with All Signs Point To Lauderdale – the king of all songs about hating your town – is a genius sign-off. They even revive their old cover of Since U Been Gone at touring bassist Bobby Lynge’s request (by means of a head-scratching snippet of Pantera’s Walk, for shits and giggles).
Strangely, the sound is occasionally muddy, and there's a couple of moments of business as usual. But by god, when they hit fifth gear, they're unstoppable, and there’s a lot of glee to go around among the crowd who have waited so long to see them here. “Are you ready to make some new fucking memories?” Jeremy McKinnon asks, and there’s no doubt that the fans will walk away from the field with their heads full of magic moments. Hearing their favourite ADTR song will surely be among those. (EW)
