Metal fans descended upon the Rickshaw Theatre expecting four bands to guide them through an atmospheric descent into oblivion. But just hours before doors opened, HOLY FAWN had to bow out after suffering a catastrophic vehicle breakdown—their transmission blew, leaving them stranded and gutted to miss the night. While fans were disappointed, the respect remained; these things happen on the road, and we hope to see them return stronger on a future bill.
Despite the curveball, the remaining lineup more than delivered, transforming the Rickshaw into a cavernous ritual space where grief, rage, and beauty collided.
GLACIAL TOMB opened with a pulverizing set that felt like a descent into the void. Their sound—a mix of suffocating sludge and death metal decay—hit with no frills, no filler, and no mercy. Vocalist/guitarist Ethan McCarthy (also of Primitive Man) snarled with throat-tearing urgency, while the low end churned like tectonic plates shifting beneath our feet. Their tone was cold, monolithic, and relentlessly grim—exactly what you want when opening the gates of hell.
Next up, INTER ARMA shattered genre expectations and likely a few vertebrae. The Virginia-based titans of experimental sludge and blackened doom never play it safe—and tonight was no exception. Their set ebbed and flowed between suffocating heaviness and hypnotic beauty, often within the same song. Psychedelic leads swirled around apocalyptic drums, and just when you thought you had them figured out, they’d throw in a Southern-tinged riff or a mournful clean passage that haunted the bones. It wasn’t just a performance—it was a sonic séance.
Then came the headliners: RIVERS OF NIHIL, touring on the strength of both their critically acclaimed catalog and their latest offerings that continue to push progressive death metal into new territory. Despite a lineup shift and evolving sound, they haven’t missed a beat. Their set was cinematic, cerebral, and crushing—an existential journey that took us from celestial melancholy to caveman brutality. Tracks like “The Silent Life” and “Focus” highlighted the band’s dynamic songwriting, with saxophone interludes giving way to blast beats and guttural roars.
The lighting bathed the band in alternating hues of starlight and blood, enhancing the atmosphere of elegant decay. Bassist/vocalist Adam Biggs commanded the crowd with a steady mix of intensity and humility, while guitarist Brody Uttley’s layered tones built an immersive soundscape that felt almost too big for the venue to contain.
Even with HOLY FAWN absent, the evening maintained an emotional depth that few shows can achieve. This wasn’t just metal for headbanging—it was music that made you feel something: despair, transcendence, rage, rebirth.
The Rickshaw proved once again that it’s more than just a venue—it’s a vessel. And tonight, that vessel was filled with distortion, catharsis, and a hell of a lot of heart.
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