Lamb Of God, Trivium, Bleed From Within @ Entertainment Centre Theatre, Adelaide 4/10/2026
“I believe that every right implies a responsibility; every opportunity, an obligation; every possession, a duty … I believe in the sacredness of a promise, that man’s word should be as good as his bond; that character – not wealth or power or position – is of supreme worth” J.D. Rockefeller Jr., The Credo
Reputations precede themselves. Whether an individual or group, ideology or event, this is most usually the case. It is the experience of being human to be judged, and an intrinsic action of humans being to judge accordingly. For better or worse, a universal assessment of character forms well before personal experience occurs; only the very best of us will choose the path of honesty, morality and responsibility in the inception and perpetuation of our perception.
LAMB OF GOD are such men. Spawn in the heady years of the 1990’s heavy metal rebirth, becoming a force in the New Wave of American Heavy Metal Movement, LoG’s commitment to all three aforementioned pillars is imprinted across their 30-something-year career. From a moniker-morphosis to musical messages, this is truly a band which embodies The Credo, and, of their word, reinforce such an ethos with the bonds and stages they share – tonight with fellow countrymen, TRIVIUM, and Glasgow’s finest, BLEED FROM WITHIN.
The unmistakable eddy of bagpipes comingles with blue smoke, the mise en scene is complete with screwed spires, pointing upwards from the stage toward an unseen Zenith. Symbols all, BLEED FROM WITHIN explodes with 2025’s eponymous album track. A righteous beginning to The End of All We Know, in celebrating the commonalities between our respective homelands, frontman Scott Kennedy encourages,
“Get another beer in ye!” Growing up “covering Lamb of God”, never dreaming there was A Hope In Hell of nights like this, make it all the more special; BFW Levitate on a wish and rhythm guitarist Steven Jones’ crystalline clean vocals.
As ever, Ali Richardson’s precision drumming performs the act of Pathfinder for both the band and the teeming swarm affronting the stage. Gigantic by comparison to their debut performance accommodations 12-months-ago, Kennedy half jokingly remarks: “If it seems huge to you down there, imagine what it looks like from up here!” Scores push through saturated red light as Dying Sun sets, then summarily drop to their knees. With instructions that befit the song but belie the man delivering, God Complex erupts and brings forth Damnation; the bandmates professing “We love you, Australia” as their parting gift, In Place of Your Halo.
Another institution of modern metal, TRIVIUM arrives to deafening applause. To the unacquainted they appear unassuming, yet the initiated understand; Rain is about to hail down upon Adelaide Entertainment Centre. The theatre surely overcapacity, a spectacle of sound and light commences, choreographed as if On the Strings of Matt Heafy’s guitar. Without Strife the conduction extends through the audience, The Sin and The Sentence of the lead-singer echoes back in synchronicity. Routinely a figurative rhyming couplet forms, Heafy’s literal right-hand man Corey Beaulieu harmonises his screams and instrument; bassist Paolo Gregoletto divides his time dancing between microphone stands and synergising with drummer Alex Rüdinger.
Collectively only a quartet, TRIVIUM brings thunder Down From the Sky and, with it, all that imagery denotes. A technical tornado, The World Goes Cold, caught in the eye of the storm and a shroud of silence. Deep blue breaks under dappled light and the re-Entrance of the Conflagration, sombre serenades switch once more, and, as Heafy disrobes, firelight consumes the stage. Suspended in sonic splendour, the audience enters Fugue state; hypnotised, Vengeance Falls Like Light to the Flies, gentle yet all consuming. The tension palpable, albeit temporary, the mesmerists retreat again before re-emerging for a faux encore. Fusing Dead Inside of Me’s live debut to a flash of fan-favourites, The Heart wrenches as we enter the final Throes of Perdition, emotion comes In Waves long after the band’s fond farewell.
An achingly extended intermission is used to ultimate effect; after harvesting respite the hoards flood the theatre in quiet unison, as if drawn not by time but a deep and intense drone from within. In gigantic illumination, LAMB OF GOD is projected across an almighty black curtain which secrets from sight what’s behind. With a burst of sound and light, in its Ruin appears the headliners.
The string instrumentalists dispersed equally at the front-of-house, parallel, Art Cruz is seated centrally in the staged firestorm, surrounded by an arachnidan drumkit. Raucous already, the crowd intensifies for Randy Blythe’s syncopated but perfectly timed arrival. Powering through the opening track, the inimitable frontman refuses to be Laid to Rest for even a beat, he maniacally stops only to beggar the question: “Who wants fucking more?!”
Cruz is Scorpio rising. His frenetic rhythmic pounding heart-starts the life of every man, woman and child in the congregation, the drummer concurrently gives his all to Something to Die For. The furore seething, great gasps of oxygen are taken in, as Blythe announces, “We came back to Adelaide for one reason, and one reason only, to completely fuck this place up!” Immediately defying his own martial law, the frontman references LOG’s latest studio album and title-track, as he leads us Into Oblivion. No hands safer than those of the Resurrection Man himself, we oblige the offer to Walk With Me in Hell, Descending further into this most marvellous madness. Earning a “thank you, so goddamn much”, Willie Adler shows his own brand of appreciation – a wild whip white hair as furious as his fingers across the guitar frets.
As another sequence of flame flows across the eight LED shade screens, lead guitarist Mark Morton bathes in the residual golden light. His stoic counterpart, bassist John Campbell, commanding the diametrically opposite side of stage, the triplet completed by Adler coordinates a positional change in The 11th Hour and issues a foreboding atmospheric shift. Where fire burned, crows now circle, and grey begins to envelop. Knowing the Hourglass has officially been turned, Blythe stands in shrouded silhouette. One hand raised, he defies the effigy of a Parasocial Christ, and symbolises he, LOG and these legions of disciples are bound only by ‘the sacredness of a promise’ to truth, and Omerta to all else. The stage blackened resurges back to life, energised by roars of “one more song”. The vocalist’s southern charm is generous, “I think we can oblige” , he looks to his brethren for affirmation which, upon receipt, gifts threefold.
In an act of poetic congruence, the magnificent Memento Mori begins and begets a reception of visceral appreciation. The virtuosos on stage feed off the vitality in front of them, and burn through Sepsis, the penultimate track. Belation of the final moment is welcomed with gratitude not malice, as Blythe seizes ‘every opportunity (and) obligation’
.
“Everytime we come to Adelaide, you always fucking show up. That’s why we love you and why we’ll always keep coming back. Never change, you beautiful motherfuckers!” A Redneck way to say it for some perhaps, the closing invocation rightfully rallies the greatest response of the evening, because we understand; character is deeper than just words, it is built upon our actions, and reputations can be created, but only the true will know their worth.
Live Review By Belinda Quick