There is often a negativity towards Slayer main man Kerry King. Much maligned at times, for me, his 2024 release From Hell I Rise was the next step following the giant’s last album Repentless. Regardless of what your views are, there were over 1,000 souls packed into the Bristol venue on an evening of heat, power and energy for King and Fear Factory.
Kerry King – Fear Factory
Electric Bristol – 13 August 2025
Words And Photography: Paul Hutchings
Not content with blowing up large parts of a civic park in Cardiff last month with Slayer, Kerry King drops into Bristol for one of only two UK dates that fit with the band’s European Festival schedule.
To see the man up close twice in short succession is a real treat for an old school thrasher, and with his band stacked to the rafters with legends, it is an evening that no self-respecting thrash fan intended to miss.
The strains of Diablo signal the start of 90 minutes of sheer intensity. The stage is unsurprisingly drenched in reds as Kerry King enters to a huge cheer.
Behind the kit, rarely seen but completely heard, is Paul Bostoph, who, like the rest of the band, does not need any introduction. Throughout the evening, Bostoph is a machine, a battery of heavy, thunderous drumming that anchors everything in place.
He is locked in tight with bassist Kyle Sanders, the former Hell Yeah man, a blur of crazy poses and flying dreads all night. Alongside him, Phil Demmel looks as comfortable as I have ever seen him.
He is in fine form, sharing the lead work with King, mouthing his encouragement to the front rows, and even taking time mid-show to point out three young members of the local crew and correctly mouth their names to them as they stand stage right watching the show.
It is a moment few will have seen, but the joy on their faces was brilliant. Demmel is a master, and this was class.
And then upfront, possibly the most underrated singer in Thrash. Mark Osegueda handles everything the band can deliver during the evening with ease, from the solo work to versions of Chemical Warfare and Black Magic, as well as covers of Purgatory and Wicked World. The Death Angel frontman is clearly enjoying himself on this run and is in fine form. 
There is not going to be any downtime in this set. Kerry King does not write music for dinner parties after all. It is salvo after salvo, delivered with unrelenting power and proficiency. There is not much chat, although Osegueda handles the dedications to Paul Di’Anno and Ozzy with incredible class.
He refers to the Metal community holding firm as the world goes to shit around us (Toxic) and is gracious in his thanks. Otherwise, it is song after song, a pulverising mix of music delivered via From Hell I Rise, as well as a generous selection of Slayer tracks.
Repentless is huge, whilst the rendition of At Dawn They Sleep sees the pit track into overtime.
It is warm, very warm, but the crowd feeds off the band, and as a result, the temperature climbs higher. The pits swirl, although surfers are small.
Inevitably, we reach the close with a rendition of Raining Blood and Black Magic, before one more burst with From Hell I Rise, closing the evening out.
It has been intense. The band are tight, on point and ferociously focused on levelling the venue. They are close to continuing the damage that Fear Factory have done earlier. Regardless of your point of view, there was no one in the venue who would have objected to anything on the night.
To catch such a supergroup, for that is what it is, in such blistering form was a treat. A huge evening, and one can only hope for a return.
Fear Factory
It’s been less than two years since Fear Factory were headlining this venue. Tonight, they have one mission. To raise hell via a run through of the seminal Demanufacture, an album celebrating 30 years. 
The line-up is the same as that November night in 2023, with Milo Silvestro now looking very comfortable and battle-hardened on the microphone.
Pete Webber continues to batter the hell out of the kit throughout, his drumming focused and intense. But all eyes sit on the shifting bulk of Dino Cazares, who is content to riff the hell out of everybody jam-packed together on the floor. 
His presence is enough, and words are limited. But every time he moves, the crowd’s eyes follow him. He switches sides on several occasions, has some brief words with the crowd, mainly coercing them into bouts of raging circle pitting, and beautifully dedicates A Therapy For Pain to Ozzy.
Moments like this will no doubt continue for a while, and the room is lit up by hundreds of phone torches in a poignant piece of reflection. 
This is a hardened unit. Silvestro is content to sign and say thanks, whilst Webber batters seven shades out of his kit. H-K (Hunter Killer) sees the biggest pit of the evening explode, and the start of a few hardy surfers who fly over the barrier into the photo pit.
There is time for one more, and it is an explosion of high energy as the band tear through Lynchpin to finish.
I have seen comments about Fear Factory’s former vocalist and how this band is not the same.
That may be true, but keeping the legacy of such an important record alive is key. This band may not be the original, but they know what they are doing, and they do it incredibly well.
