All Photos By Rocky Kessenger/@through_the_metal_lens
Some journeys start with a setlist, others with a scream but mine began at the crack of dawn, tires rolling out of Vegas, headed straight into the inferno. July 1st, 2025. The Summer of Loud tour had summoned the faithful to Phoenix, Arizona, and like many who worship at the altar of breakdowns and double kicks, I answered the call.
It was a long haul, just shy of five hours in a blacktop mirage stretching across the desert. By the time I hit the outskirts of Phoenix, the heat was oppressive, clocking in at a scorching 116°F. The kind of heat that bakes you from the outside in, that makes even your steering wheel feel like it's auditioning for Satan's drum kit. But despite the sweat, fatigue, and faint scent of regret from not hydrating better, the moment I rolled into Talking Stick Resort Amphitheatre, it all faded. Because ahead of me stood a lineup that read like a modern metalcore fever dream.
TX2. Alpha Wolf. The Devil Wears Prada. The Amity Affliction. Parkway Drive. I Prevail. Beartooth. Killswitch Engage.
Each name, a battle cry. Each band, a reason to endure the blistering Arizona sun. And there was something deeper hanging in the air, not just heat, but heart. A shared ache as many bands on the lineup paid tribute to the late Dave Shapiro, whose influence shaped the paths of countless artists and shows like this one. The crowd; sweaty, sunburned, and screaming felt like a family mourning together, healing together, and headbanging in unison.
This wasn't just a show. It was a pilgrimage. The sun scorched, the amps roared, and the stage became a crucible for catharsis.
TX2 kicked off the Phoenix stop of Summer of Loud 2025 like a caffeinated Molotov cocktail equal parts chaos, charisma, and catharsis. If you didn't know who they were when you walked in, you absolutely did by the time they dropped the mic.
The brainchild of Colorado native Evan Thomas, TX2 has carved a lane of its own with brutally honest lyrics, a fusion of emo, punk, hip-hop, and a Gen Z social media swagger that mixes angst with absurdity. And it all came together the moment the show started.
As the band prepared to unleash their set, a fan handed Evan a toy horse head on a stick you know, the kind kids gallop through the house with, pretending they're knights of the living room. Without missing a beat, Evan raised it like a deranged herald of emo justice and sneered:
"Ohh, you don't like me? Well, here you go!"
Cue "POS Fuck Boi Anthem", and with it, the pit exploded. That track, already viral thanks to TX2's TikTok presence, hit harder in the Arizona sun dripping with venom and vindication. It wasn't just some performance; it was therapy with breakdowns.
But the real pulse of the set came during "HOSTAGE (they will not erase us)", when Evan dove into the crowd and personally ignited the pit, screaming through the swirl of bodies like a frontman possessed. Before launching himself into it, he reminded everyone, "You are the heartbeat of the scene. Don't ever forget that."
It wasn't just a line, it was a declaration. One the crowd took to heart as fists flew, and voices rose.
Later that night, BEARTOOTH's Caleb Shomo gave TX2 a public shoutout, saying, "Watch these guys they'll be headlining before you know it."
And honestly? He's not wrong. TX2 has that raw, volatile energy that doesn't just play a show it marks a moment.
In 25 minutes, they didn't just open the festival.
They lit the fuse.
If TX2 lit the fuse, ALPHA WOLF were the explosion.
Coming in hot from Melbourne, Australia, the band took the Phoenix stage like they were trying to crack the foundation beneath it. The sun was already punishing, peaking near 116°F, but the real heat came from the stage the moment ALPHA WOLF ripped into their set. There was no easing in, no warmup lap, just a wall of sound, aggression, and adrenaline.
From the first crushing riffs of "Mangekyo" to the surgical chaos of "Pretty Boy", the band delivered the kind of performance that feels like both a street brawl and a therapy session. But it was during "Sucks 2 Suck" that the crowd reached a new level of wild because tucked inside that savage track is a vocal cameo from the one and only Ice-T. Hearing his unmistakable growl boom through the Arizona heat was a surreal crossover moment, and the crowd lost it in unison, screaming the lines back like they'd been rehearsing it all week.
About halfway through the set, frontman Lochie Keogh took a moment to address the crowd. There was no big speech, no soapbox. Just raw honesty. "This tour wouldn't exist without Dave Shapiro. We're here because of him."
A brief pause, a breath in the chaos. And then, with a smirk that only a metalhead from Melbourne could pull off in the middle of the desert, he added: "Also it's hot as balls and tits out here. We didn't even know it could get this bad." And yet, they never slowed down. Not for the heat. Not for the sun. Not for anything.
You'd think this was a hometown gig from the way they owned the stage. There was no sign of fatigue, just non-stop motion, feral energy, and the kind of commitment you only get from a band that lives for the road and bleeds for the breakdown. From "Sub-Zero" to "Akudama", ALPHA WOLF turned their 30-minute set into a primal display of why the underground matters, why international bands deserve U.S. stages, and why their name is rapidly becoming a staple in metalcore conversations.
They didn't just show up. They made sure Phoenix remembered them.
If there was one set I personally circled on the lineup, it was THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA. Not because they're the flashiest or the heaviest but because of what this tour meant. For me, it was the first time I'd ever seen them live. For them, it was a homecoming cloaked in mourning. The loss of Dave Shapiro, their former drummer and close friend, hung heavy in the air. And yet, what they brought to the stage wasn't sadness, it was fire. And love. And a defiant celebration of life, that gave rise to this very festival.
They walked out like they had something to prove, and they proved it from the first chaotic blast of "Watchtower". No filler, no hesitation. Just pure, emotional catharsis through music. Whether it was the brooding tension of "Salt", the gut-punch of "Chemical", or the emotional surge behind "For You", every note felt earned. Every lyric felt lived.
But even amidst all that depth, they still found space for a little humor and it came courtesy of guitarist/vocalist Jeremy DePoyster, who broke the tension like only he could.
"Hey, I'm Caleb... except I'm fat, out of shape, and had way too many beers," he laughed, pausing just long enough for the crowd to catch their breath. "Nah we're THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA. Now f*ck this place up!" And we did.
They didn't rely on nostalgia. They didn't need a fancy light show or pyro. What they had was realness years of blood, sweat, and breakdowns distilled into a tight, powerful set that felt just as vital today as it would have during the With Roots Above era.
By the end of "Sacrifice", I found myself thinking the same thing I imagine a lot of people were like, "Forgive me for not catching you sooner."
They may be veterans of the scene, but this set proved there's no expiration date on honesty, passion, or punch-in-the-gut metalcore.
THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA isn't here for a nostalgia run. They're here to remind you why they've survived and why they matter.
Now, get these guys back in the intimate, dark, sweaty venues where that spirit was born. It deserves to be felt up close.
The last of the non-headlining acts, THE AMITY AFFLICTION walked onstage with little fanfare and, honestly, they didn't need it. There's always been a certain quiet intensity about them, a brooding heaviness that doesn't require much commentary or theatrics to land. And true to form, they didn't talk much. They didn't need to.
From the opening notes of "Pittsburgh" to the aching final moments of "Soak Me in Bleach", the band delivered exactly what longtime fans came for: emotionally raw, post-hardcore-tinged metalcore, draped in themes of loss, isolation, and survival. It's a formula they've mastered but on this particular day, it felt a little too subdued.
That's not to say it wasn't good, it just lacked the kind of urgency and presence that the earlier acts brought to the stage. Following the wild, unhinged chaos of TX2, the calculated aggression of ALPHA WOLF, and the heartfelt fire of THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA, Amity's set felt more like a slow exhale, a come down rather than a continuation of the energy.
To be fair, their slot came during the absolute worst of the Phoenix heat. The kind of heat that doesn't just sit on your skin, but seeps into your bones. You could feel it. Hell, you could see it. The band was clearly battling the same heatstroke haze as the rest of us. And maybe that's why their performance felt like it was dragging a weight behind it; whether physical, emotional, or both.
There were still standout moments. "All My Friends Are Dead" turned the pit into a slow-burn funeral march, while "Death's Hand" gave the crowd something real to scream about. But the set, while solid, just never reached the same intensity or connection as the three bands that opened.
It wasn't a bad performance. It just wasn't memorable in the way the others were.
For a band known for digging into darkness and pain, THE AMITY AFFLICTION may have brought all the right tools but under that merciless desert sun, it felt like they left too much of themselves behind on the stage.
The sun may have been threatening to kill us, but PARKWAY DRIVE was there to make sure we burned for something.
They weren't the final act of the night, but make no mistake, when the first of the Big Four rotating headliners took the stage in Phoenix, the bar was instantly raised. PARKWAY DRIVE didn't need the closing slot to dominate. From the moment they hit that stage, they brought an intensity and spectacle that said one thing loud and clear: "This is how you do it."
Opening their set with the devastating one-two punch of "Glitch" and "Prey", the band tore into the crowd like a storm breaking through the horizon. Winston McCall, their ever-charismatic frontman, prowled the stage with a ferocity that belied the 116°F heat, snarling into the mic with the kind of raw conviction that makes you believe every word.
"We're from Western Australia, what do you mean heat?"
Winston joked, sweat-soaked and smiling like a man thriving in chaos. The crowd roared back, and from there, PARKWAY didn't let up for a single breath.
The entire production felt like a controlled explosion.
Pyro. Flames. Lights timed to annihilate.
But it was more than flash, it was fury with focus.
Midway through the set, the band unveiled one of the most jaw-dropping visuals of the entire day: a spinning drum riser set ablaze, elevating drummer Ben Gordon into the air like some demon conductor mid-breakdown. It wasn't just theatrics, it was PARKWAY reminding everyone that their music demands spectacle, not ego. And the setlist? It was a weapon.
"Soul Bleach", "Sacred", "The Void" and "Bottom Feeder" all hit like precision strikes, each one tightening the grip the band had on the crowd. When they dropped "Wild Eyes", the sing-along was deafening. And by the time "Crushed" detonated, the entire pit had transformed into a wasteland of limbs, dust, and adrenaline.
I've seen PARKWAY before, and I will absolutely see them again. Every time, they evolve. Every time, they raise the ceiling on what a modern metalcore band can do, both musically and visually.
Tonight, they weren't the closer. They were the spark!
The first of the heavyweights. The fire starters of the Big Four. And if anyone in the crowd had doubts about whether PARKWAY still had that fire in them...
They answered with actual flames.
If you needed a reason to catch this tour, PARKWAY DRIVE is it.
They don't visit the U.S. often. But when they do...It's unforgettable.
Of all the sets I had on my radar for the Phoenix stop of Summer of Loud, I PREVAIL was near the top. With a reputation for emotionally charged, high-production performances and a catalog full of modern metalcore anthems, they've become one of the biggest names in the genre. As part of the rotating Big Four headliners, the stage was set for something unforgettable.
But when the dust settled, I walked away feeling... a bit let down.
Not because they didn't play well. In fact, they sounded great. Eric Vanlerberghe and Dylan Bowman, now handling the vocal duties in the wake of Brian Burkheiser's departure, carried the set with power and clarity. Eric's screams hit hard and raw, while Dylan handled the melodic side with polish. Their chemistry was solid, the backing band was tight, and every track from the crushing "Bow Down" and "Choke" to the crowd-favorite "Bad Things" came through loud and clear.
Musically? No complaints.
But visually and emotionally? Something didn't quite click.
The band came out in all white, backed by a whitewashed stage design that might have looked stunning under a full lighting rig after sunset. Unfortunately, their set took place during the final stretch of daylight, and the entire aesthetic ended up being washed out by the sun. The contrast was gone. The drama muted. What could've been a cinematic performance ended up feeling oddly sterile and overexposed. It's not that the production was bad, it just didn't hit the way it was meant to in broad daylight. It felt like a set designed for night that got caught in the glare of the afternoon.
That said, one moment absolutely did connect, and it came not through visuals, but through heart. Midway through the set, the band paused to pay tribute to Dave Shapiro, honoring the man who helped bring so many of these artists including I PREVAIL to where they are now. Eric's voice carried real weight as he said, "We wouldn't be here without Dave. This tour wouldn't be here without him."
And for a brief moment, the pit stilled. The crowd listened. And you could feel the gravity of it all settle over the space.
It was one of the most genuine, grounding moments of the entire day, a reminder of why we were all there, beyond the music, beyond the mayhem.
So, while I PREVAIL's set didn't deliver the emotional eruption I was hoping for, it still had its moments. The sound was strong, the tribute sincere, and the band showed up with full intent. They just didn't fully hit their moment.
Not every show is a home run. But even a near-miss from I PREVAIL is worth seeing.
Next time? Under the right lights and at the right time? I have no doubt they'll blow the roof off.
Holy shit I could write an entire review on this band alone. Don't worry, I'll keep it reasonable but just barely. Because if there's one thing, I'm sure of after watching BEARTOOTH tear up the Phoenix stage at Summer of Loud, it's this: there are few bands on earth that bring this level of raw, relentless energy to every single show.
The second Caleb Shomo walked onto that stage; it was clear who most of these people bought their tickets to see. Without hesitation, Caleb marched right to the front, grinning like a madman, and shouted, "Do you know where you are? You're at a fucking BEARTOOTH show, and this will be the greatest night of your life!"
And just like every single time, he and the band made damn sure nobody in the crowd would ever forget exactly who they are and why they came.
From the crushing opening notes of "The Lines" into the frantic intensity of "The Past Is Dead", BEARTOOTH transformed the amphitheater into an emotional pressure cooker. Songs like "Sunshine!", "ATTN.", and the crushingly personal "You Never Know" took fans through every imaginable emotional high and low turning anger into catharsis, despair into hope, and reminding us that none of us are ever alone.
But the absolute standout moment, the one that stole the night, was during "Disease". Caleb spotted a little girl sitting high on her dad's shoulders, clearly singing along at the top of her lungs. With a huge smile, he pointed to her and asked, "Do you know the words?"
Her enthusiastic nod and huge smile were all he needed. He leaned forward and shared vocal duties with this fearless six-year-old girl, who belted every lyric without missing a beat. At the end of the song, Caleb asked her how old she was. Her reply? "I'm six, and it's my birthday!"
Caleb turned to the 10,000-strong crowd and, with a wave of his hand, silenced the entire amphitheater: "Everybody, tell Alex happy birthday!"
In unison, 10,000 voices roared: "Happy Birthday, Alex!"
It's moments like this that make BEARTOOTH more than just another metalcore band. They're a lifeline, a community, a family.
Closing out their set with a thunderous performance of "In Between", Caleb true to form channeled his inner Freddie Mercury, leading the entire amphitheater in an acapella chant that echoed into the Arizona night. It's a tradition, its catharsis, and it never, ever gets old.
There is simply no other band leading the rock/metalcore scene with this kind of authenticity, emotional transparency, and relentless energy. They don't just perform, they unite us through life's highs, lows, and everything in between.
I cannot say this loud enough:
If you haven't seen BEARTOOTH live, you're doing yourself a huge injustice.
Go see FUCKING BEARTOOTH!!
And then there was KILLSWITCH ENGAGE. What can you even say about these guys that hasn't already been etched into metalcore history a thousand times over? If PARKWAY DRIVE lit the fuse and BEARTOOTH ignited hearts, KILLSWITCH ENGAGE were the roaring bonfire at the center of it all. They are the OGs, the pioneers, the band who didn't just shape metalcore but defined it. From their genre-defining breakdowns to the iconic balance of melody and aggression, they wrote the blueprint that countless bands have followed since.
When Jesse Leach, Adam Dutkiewicz, Joel Stroetzel, Mike D'Antonio, and Justin Foley walked onto that Phoenix stage, the collective reaction from the crowd was something primal, something deep-rooted. It was a celebration, sure but more than that, it was reverence. Because this wasn't just any band on stage. This was the band that broke open a scene, paved the way, and remains as relevant, intense, and beloved today as ever.
From the first notes of the timeless "Rose of Sharyn", there was no mistaking who stood before us. The crowd surged forward, voices raised in unison, as if every lyric was tattooed deep into their memory. The energy shifted immediately, this wasn't just nostalgia; this was something alive, vital, and still fiercely relevant.
"In Due Time" followed next, and Jesse Leach made his first descent from the stage into the audience, walking among the fans like a preacher at a revival. Handshakes, high-fives, hugs, and shared microphones Jesse wasn't just singing to the crowd, he was part of it. This genuine humility and authentic connection are exactly why KILLSWITCH ENGAGE continues to resonate after all these years.
The emotional intensity never let up. Songs like "This Fire", "Hate by Design", and the always powerful "My Curse" echoed like anthems from the soul, delivered with a conviction that transcended the music itself. Adam D, in his usual playful spirit, brought a perfect balance to Jesse's heartfelt sincerity joking, smiling, and playing his heart out as if the heat meant absolutely nothing.
Midway through their set, during "My Last Serenade", Jesse once again joined the crowd; sharing vocal duties with fans who screamed every word back at him. The amphitheater vibrated with voices united as one, a chorus of thousands bound by the same chords, the same lyrics, the same lifetime of memories and meaning.
And then came the emotional core of the night: their soaring, heart-rending performance of "The End of Heartache". This wasn't merely a sing-along it was catharsis, a collective release. Everyone present; myself included; had goosebumps, chills running down spines, tears in eyes. It was one of those rare live moments when the band, the fans, and the song become indistinguishable from one another, a perfect unity of energy and emotion.
Closing out the night with their iconic cover of DIO's "Holy Diver", KILLSWITCH ENGAGE delivered one final statement: they understand their roots, they honor their heroes, and they remain unwavering torchbearers for the genre they helped define. And in that closing moment, as thousands screamed those iconic lyrics at the top of their lungs, fists raised to the Phoenix sky, it felt like both a tribute and a reminder: this music, this community, this passion all endures because of bands like KILLSWITCH ENGAGE.
They're more than pioneers. They're legends, leaders, lifelines. They walked so countless bands today could run, and they remain every bit as powerful, relevant, and necessary as they've ever been.
KILLSWITCH ENGAGE didn't just play a set, they affirmed their legacy.
And we, in that crowd, were all lucky enough to bear witness.
Final Note Remembering the Reason, Celebrating the Legacy
Unfortunately, this wasn't just another festival. It was a gathering born from loss a collective mourning for Dave Shapiro, a visionary who left an irreplaceable mark on this scene and its community. But in the face of tragedy, something extraordinary happened: a once-in-a-lifetime lineup of bands came together not just to honor his memory, but to celebrate the music, friendships, and bonds that Shapiro helped create.
While we might never see this exact lineup again, if we do, let's hope it's under brighter circumstances. Yet through grief something beautiful emerged a testament to the power of music to unite, heal, and remind us all of what truly matters.
As always, remember to:
Stay safe, stay Metal, and always be kind.
Because you truly never know what the person beside you is going through.
Check out some more photos from the show!
All Photos By Rocky Kessenger/@through_the_metal_lens
