Vee Richardson
Kicking off the night was Desolated, a band that has long been a staple of the UK’s metallic hardcore underground. If anyone thought the opening act would ease the crowd into the evening, they were sorely mistaken. The sheer weight of ‘Numb’ and ‘The Beginning’ showed why Desolated are one of the most punishing live bands in the UK scene. Frontman Tony Evans prowled the stage like a caged animal, barking out lyrics with venomous intensity. ‘Bite Down’ was a particular highlight, its slow, crushing breakdown shaking the room as the entire front half of the crowd moved as one.
As it came to their last song, ‘Death By My Side’, the damage had been done. Desolated had set the bar sky-high for the rest of the night- ferocious, unrelenting, and utterly devastating.
If Desolated were the spark, The Acacia Strain were the inferno. The tension in the venue was palpable as the band took the stage, and the moment ‘FLOURISHING’ kicked in, it was game over. The sheer weight of their sound sent shockwaves through the room, every down-tuned riff landing with the force of a sledgehammer.
Then came ‘Dr. Doom’, an instant pit-starter that saw the entire floor swallowed by a storm of swinging fists and spinning kicks. Vincent Bennett, a frontman who has perfected the art of commanding a crowd, barely had to utter a word before the pit erupted again for ‘Chhinnamasta’, its eerie atmosphere adding an unsettling edge before plunging into another onslaught of brutality.
The set’s peak came with ‘CHAIN’ and ‘FRESH BONES’, two tracks that showcased the band’s mastery of balancing groove with sheer, unfiltered aggression. The breakdowns hit harder, the riffs cut deeper, and by the time their set ended, it was clear that The Acacia Strain had just delivered one of the heaviest performances Manchester had seen in years.
Paleface Swiss took the energy and atmosphere built by Desolated and The Acacia Strain and cranked it up to 11. We witnessed one of the fastest-rising names in modern deathcore proving exactly why they deserved their headline spot. From the first note of ‘Un Pobre Niño Murió’, there was no doubt that they belonged here.
The energy in the room surged, reaching new heights, and when ‘Hatred’ kicked in, the entire venue moved as one. Every breakdown hit with surgical precision, the mix so tight it felt like a recorded album coming to life.
‘Suppressing Times’ and ‘My Blood on Your Hands’ stood out as two of the most visceral performances of the night, with the latter turning the entire venue into a choir of guttural screams. This was more than just a gig, it felt more like a mass exorcism, a collective purge of rage and energy, with the crowd throwing themselves into every riff with reckless abandon.
But the true highlight? ‘The Gallow’. The moment that first riff hit, it was clear the band had saved something special for the final stretch. The entire venue erupted—bodies flying, voices screaming, the breakdown hitting like a freight train.
‘Nail to the Tooth’ closed the set, and by that point, exhaustion was written on every face in the crowd. But so was pure exhilaration.