By Christopher Crone
The UC Theatre had that strange déjàvu hum the second I walked in, like the Oakland Omni reincarnated without the danger tax. Backstage was a maze of hallways and half-lit corners, the kind of layout that makes you feel like you’re sneaking into something even when you’re credentialed. Parabellum were buried deep in the back, and when I finally found Emre, Jacey, Dylan, and Kyle, the room had that quiet, electric charge bands get right before a big moment.
Opening for Testament isn’t just another gig in the Bay Area. It’s a milestone. Emre mentioned Chuck Billy was one of the reasons he picked up music in the first place, and that fullcircle weight sat heavy in the air. What you don’t usually see at shows like this, especially if you grew up on the Mab, the Stone, or the Omni, is family backstage. Here, it added a grounding warmth to a night otherwise buzzing with adrenaline.
Word floating around (and later confirmed online) was that Testament gave Parabellum full lights and full sound. That never happens. Openers usually get the “stay in your lane” mix. Not tonight. Parabellum took the freedom and ran with it, delivering a set that felt bigger than their slot and hungry in all the right ways. If this is where they’re at now, they’re not just opening, they’re building toward headlining.
Destruction hit the stage like a precision strike. No easing in, no warmup—just straight German thrash delivered with the authority of lifers who never softened their edges. They’re often mentioned as part of the German “Big 4,” and nights like this make it obvious why. Tight, relentless, unapologetically old-school. As a pairing with Testament, it was perfect: two titans from parallel scenes throwing down a one-two punch of thrash history.
When Testament finally took the stage, it felt less like a headliner walking out and more like a declaration. They detonated straight into “Into the Pit,” and the room went off instantly. That familiar pull to ditch the camera and dive into the chaos behind me hit hard. Testament has always had that effect.
What sets them apart is that nothing about them feels nostalgic. They’re not coasting on legacy—they’re still thrash, still sharp, still pushing. Chuck Billy commanded the stage with the same fire that built their legend, backed by a band playing with surgical precision.
New drummer Chris Dovas injected a jolt of youth into the lineup—tight, explosive, locked‑in. His playing didn’t just fit; it elevated the entire set.
The setlist was a killer mix of classics, deep cuts, and newer material, including a few tracks that haven’t seen much live rotation. That unpredictability gave the night a sense of occasion—like you were catching something that won’t be repeated exactly the same way again.
From the pit to the balcony, the room never lost steam. Loud, raw, real—everything thrash is supposed to be. By the time the final notes rang out, it was clear: this wasn’t just another tour stop. This was a night people will talk about.
Categories: Concert Photography, Destruction, News, Parabellum, Testament
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