By Chris Crone …..Buy us a Coffee on Ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/capitalchaostv
Eight bands. One stage. One packed room. And by the time Hatebreed took the stage, Ace of Spades was basically a human pressure cooker. The night started heavy and only got heavier, with each band bringing something different to the table before the headliners finally turned the place into absolute bedlam. From behind the camera, it was one of those shows where you know pretty quickly that you’re going to come home exhausted, covered in someone else’s sweat, and probably pretty damn happy about it.
Crowd Control opened the night with a shot of raw energy that immediately got things moving. Their set was fast, sharp, and exactly what you want from a band tasked with kicking off a lineup this heavy. Even with the night just getting started, they had people moving and established the tone for the carnage that was coming.
Purification by Fire followed with a darker, heavier approach that changed the atmosphere without taking any momentum away. Their riffs came grinding out of the speakers with enough weight to make the room feel noticeably smaller. It was a solid performance and another step up on the evening’s steadily increasing brutality meter.
Creeping Death came out swinging with a set that was equal parts precise and completely feral. I watched these guys from the side of the stage and ended up meeting two of their friends, who told me they appreciate the older photographers because apparently we know how to get the good shots. Older photographers. Well, okay then. I’ll take that as a compliment. Besides, I’ve got the photos to prove whether they were right.
Torture pretty much lived up to their name, delivering a relentless set that had the crowd getting more and more violent with every song. At first, I actually had to figure out where the hell the vocals were coming from because there wasn’t a singer standing out front. Then I realized the drummer was doing it. Yep. The guy behind the kit was simultaneously beating the living hell out of the drums and grunting out the vocals. Because apparently playing drums in a death-metal band wasn’t enough work.
Gates to Hell brought a massive wall of sound that immediately turned the floor into a swirling mass of bodies. Every breakdown hit like a sledgehammer, and the band’s stage presence matched the sheer weight coming through the PA.
As their set progressed, the pit got progressively nastier, with bodies flying and fans feeding off every ounce of energy coming from the stage. From the photo pit, they were a photographer’s dream — movement, attitude, dramatic lighting, and plenty of opportunities to catch those split-second moments that make live photography worth the abuse. Gates to Hell clearly knew how to use the bigger Ace of Spades stage, and they absolutely owned the space.
Then came Incantation, bringing a completely different kind of heaviness. Their sound was dense, cavernous, dark, and unapologetically old-school — the kind of stuff that doesn’t so much hit you as crawl under your skin.
They were also the first band of the night where I decided that maybe standing inside the photo pit wasn’t the smartest career move. Bodies were coming over the barrier nonstop, and I eventually decided that getting crushed into the barricade wasn’t going to improve my photography. So I retreated to the balcony.
From up there, I could take in the entire scene and work the camera without having to worry about becoming part of the crowd-surfing program. The low lighting and deep tones made them a challenge to photograph, but when everything came together, the shots were worth the fight. Meanwhile, the crowd continued moving below like one giant, pissed-off organism.
I had recently seen Terror at a much smaller venue, but Ace of Spades gave them room to really cut loose. And holy shit, did they use it. With the larger stage, Terror was running, jumping, interacting with the crowd, and generally behaving like a band that had absolutely no intention of standing still for even half a second. Their energy was contagious, and the crowd responded with nonstop movement.
From the photo pit, this was the kind of set you hope for. Constant motion. Great expressions. Musicians actually performing instead of standing in one spot waiting for the next song. Every time I looked through the viewfinder, there was something happening. Terror has always seemed to understand that hardcore isn’t just about playing music at people. It’s about creating a connection with the people standing in front of you, and that connection was obvious from the stage to the back of the room.
The crowd surfers kept coming, security was working overtime, and somehow the whole thing stayed just on the right side of complete disaster. Terror didn’t just play the room. They set it on fire.
This was my second time seeing Hatebreed. It would have been my third, but the first granddaughter decided she was going to make her grand entrance on the exact same night as the show I missed. Family comes first. The second time I saw Hatebreed was also at Ace of Spades, and, strangely enough, I went to that show with the father of that same granddaughter. But this time was different.
This time I was in the photo pit. And this was easily the best Hatebreed experience I’ve had. From the moment Jamey Jasta and the band hit the stage, Hatebreed owned the place. There was no warm-up, no easing into things, and definitely no asking permission. They came out swinging and the crowd immediately answered.
Fans were encouraged to climb up and over the barricade, and security was absolutely slammed trying to keep up. Somehow, despite the constant stream of bodies coming over the barrier, they managed to get everyone safely back on their feet and back into the madness. The pit was a swirling mass of humanity, with crowd surfers constantly making their way toward the front. From the photo pit, it was almost impossible to keep up with everything happening around me.
And then there was Jamie. Only once did he stop singing to address the crowd when a few people started getting a little too aggressive. His message was basically simple: keep it friendly violent fun. Beat the shit out of the music, not each other. That’s hardcore. At one point I stepped out to the side of the stage, and from there I could finally see the entire room. Thousands of people moving together, fists in the air, bodies flying over the barricade, and the pit churning like a Category 5 tornado had ripped through it.
That view was incredible. The energy coming off that room was almost overwhelming, but in the best possible way. Hatebreed wasn’t just performing for the crowd — they were feeding off it, and the crowd was giving every ounce of energy right back. From the photo pit, the experience was completely different than watching them from the floor. I was close enough to see the expressions, the sweat, the violence, the smiles, and all the little moments that disappear if you’re standing fifty feet away.
Hatebreed delivered exactly what people came to see: hardcore played loud, fast, aggressive, and with absolutely no apologies. For me, it was more than just another show to photograph. It was one hell of a night, one hell of a crowd, and easily one of my favorite experiences behind the camera. And after seven bands, countless crowd surfers, a few hundred photographs, and enough noise to make my ears ring until Tuesday…I’d say Ace of Spades got its money’s worth.
Categories: Concert Photography, Reviews
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