Rickshaw Theatre, Vancouver | May 16, 2025
Modified Ghost Festival VIII erupted into chaos and glory on opening night at the Rickshaw Theatre, launching a six-band sonic assault that tested the limits of physics, sanity, and hearing. The entire night pulsed with blast beats and Mach 666 energy—each band determined to outdo the last in sheer velocity, precision, and stage dominance.
Bayonet Dismemberment kicked things off with the kind of raw power that reminds you why local talent should never be underestimated. Watching my buddy storm around the stage on vocals was a blast—feral, focused, and completely unrelenting. Their set was a meat-grinder of low-end punishment and groove-heavy breakdowns. Can’t wait to catch them again.
Fractal Universe added a mind-expanding twist to the night. Progressive death metal with a saxophone? Yes, and it worked. Their ability to swing between technical extremity and melodic atmosphere was captivating, offering a brief but welcome cerebral breather before the next sonic detonation.
Decrepit Birth threw that breather out the window. Bill Robinson was a man possessed. At one point, he leapt from the stage into the photo pit, scaled the barricade like a jungle gym, and launched himself into the pit—igniting the crowd in a frenzy. Matt Sotelo’s riffing was alien-level fast, and the whole set felt like being swallowed by a black hole and spat back out with your brain spinning.
Origin took that momentum and lit it on fire. Holy shit! There’s no other way to say it. Their set was ballistic—speed, precision, and chaos unleashed at full throttle. The pit was non-stop motion, and the band performed like they were trying to shatter time itself.
Atheist stepped up next and brought a wave of veteran confidence. Jazz-infused riffs met philosophical chaos, and Kelly Shaefer’s presence proved that legends don’t fade—they evolve. Their complex structures were played flawlessly, and for long-time fans, it felt like a homecoming wrapped in distortion and groove.
Obscura closed the night with an absolute masterstroke. This wasn’t just technical death metal—it was high art with a pulse. Every riff sliced with precision, every rhythm locked in like clockwork, and the energy was unreal. Their presence commanded the room; even after hours of moshing and madness, fans were glued to every note. The interplay of melody and speed was otherworldly—like being caught in a tornado made of symphony and steel. Obscura didn’t end the show; they elevated it into something cosmic.
Opening night was a clinic in chaos—tight, explosive, and wildly diverse. If night one hit this hard, the rest of Modified Ghost Festival VIII is set to be unforgettable.
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