As the shadow of Villa Park looms large over the Metal world, the wake that hopefully marks the end of Black Sabbath is preceded by the rebirth of Slayer, arguably the most revered Thrash band of all time.
Slayer – Amon Amarth – Anthrax – Mastodon – Hatebreed
Blackweir Fields, Cardiff – 3 July 2025
Words And Photography: Paul Hutchings
Facing the same ridicule that greets any band returning from so-called final tours, many viewed the reformation of Slayer, six years after their extensive swansong across the globe, with similar disdain.
In the build-up to this huge event in the Welsh capital, the vast reduction in tickets merely stoked the fires of resentment. Tickets for as little as £20 brought widespread online criticism.
Yet anyone walking through one of the green lungs of Cardiff at 22:40 on this cooling Thursday evening would have challenged you, for Slayer brought a show that scorched the sky and demonstrated that whilst they may no longer want to tour relentlessly, in the live arena, few could or still can match them.
Alongside Slayer, four behemoths of the current Metal world, all players in the Back To The Beginning show no less, reminded us that there are still plenty of reasons to be cheerful, even as we celebrate the finale of the godfathers of this beloved genre. 
Slayer
The sun is setting as the huge Slayer banner masks the stage. A montage of clips from across the band’s 40+ year journey plays. It’s a reminder of Jeff Hanneman, whose songwriting is remembered once again in the classics that blast across the city, as he is featured in much of the video.
Dave Lombardo is also there, although in less prominence than the fallen guitarist. It’s a five-minute journey down memory lane for many in the crowd, old timers who have been there since the start (although there is almost silence when Tom Araya asks later who was at the Marquee in 1985), through to excited young thrashers eager for their first blooding at the hands of this Titanic band. 
The montage ends, the banner drops, and the screams ring out. The sunlight negates the swirling Slayer logos on the netting in front of the stage, but that’s soon forgotten as Slayer rip into South Of Heaven.
Chaos begins, and for the next 90 minutes, the sky is painted red as Araya, Kerry King, Paul Bostaph, and Gary Holt unleash hell and level the entire site.
Two weeks since I saw Iron Maiden play one of their finest ever shows, Slayer flex their Thrash muscles on a stage bigger than most they played during their career in similarly spectacular style. This show may lack the visceral edge that shows in Academy-sized venues have had over the last four decades, but in terms of sheer intensity, there is little to match it. 
The setlist is impressive; a modern-day middle finger to autotuned and over manufactured Modern Metal alongside every other genre. This is potent Thrash Metal at its finest. Spanning their entire catalogue, the opening five songs straddle their entire career.
Repentless is punishing, Disciple rips, whilst Die By The Sword takes those of us old enough back to those early Speed Metal days. And then there is Jihad, still topical, from the underrated Christ Illusion album. Just that intro gets the hairs standing.
A mere five songs that lasts 20 minutes but sees scores of crowd surfers take to the air in a never-ending assault on the beleaguered pit crews, and the first casualties from the swirling pits emerge. It’s a ferocious onslaught, but it’s only the beginning.
A brief thanks from Tom briefly cools the temperature, although those of us in the know appreciate this is merely the deep breath before the plunge.
The screams of War Ensemble prompt more frenzied action, and even on the periphery, the words are mouthed by those who, thirty years ago, would have been stripped to the waist and deep in the central carnage.
How to follow that? Chemical Warfare sees the Slayer pot boil over, and I, for one, am in ecstasy. It’s bruising, unrelenting, and overwhelmingly SLLLAAAYYYEERRR!!
No small talk, just a barrage of Thrash. It’s what we old-school Thrashers expect, and what the younglings are soon learning is what you get. The pyro roars as Mandatory Suicide, complete with compelling screen scenes, is followed by the bludgeon of Born Of Fire.
Seasons In The Abyss, one of five from the album, is crushing, integral to any Slayer show, and astonishingly 35 years old. It’s a highlight amongst highlights that cascade in the rivers of blood that flow.
You know it’s almost time to go when Bostaph hits those drums. The intro to Reign In Blood elicits one of the loudest cheers of the night. It’s almost last chance to dance territory, and the pit ensures that memories are made, bruises and aches earned in a frenzied explosion that cleverly drifts into a pulsating Black Magic.
It’s left to Angel Of Death to close things down, something that sees 90% of the crowd singing along in a final opportunity to absorb everything in front of them.
It may only be a short reprise, but this was worth every penny. Another set of shows in a year or so would not be an issue for this writer. Whether Araya and King have the desire and Holt and Bostaph the capacity is unknown.
For now, bask in the explosive red glow and be thankful that Slayer are back at all.
Amon Amarth
11 months since they brought the fire to Bloodstock, the Swedish Vikings row into Wales and bring a show that is almost as big as that which blew Catton Hall to pieces last summer.
Fire, huge stage presence and those Melodic Death Metal anthems make for a party in the park. It’s a clipped set, nine songs in total, but as Johan Hegg is at pains to make out, they are here to open for Slayer.
Last seen in Wales with Machine Head in 2022, the Swedes are back on the bill with the headliners and in Cardiff with Slayer for the first time since 2008’s Unholy Alliance tour. To compare the band who stoked the fires of hell here to the band that were openers on 2 November 2008, is like matching apples and oranges. This is now a band who are huge in song, production and delivery. 
Guardians Of Asgaard, the fist-pumping Shield Wall and the Loki-themed Deceivers Of The Gods ensure that Amon Amarth opens with full fire and power. There are flames, not quite on the scale of the headliners, as we will see, but there are flames alright.
This is a band who know what they are doing, who have the songs to match, and who sensibly avoid much of the inter-song banter that happens when they are top dogs. 
Tonight, they stick to script but not without a toast (Raise Your Horns), the rowing anthem Put Your Back Into The Oars and the thunderous closer Twilight Of the Thunder Gods, which shakes the entire arena.
Immensely entertaining, incredibly professional, Amon Amarth show why they are placed behind the top dogs. It’s a bit of theatre at times, but this is a band who can carry the torch into the next decade.
Always immense since I saw them in a 200-cap venue 17 years ago, this set was a truly excellent spectacle.
Anthrax
“We’ll be back in 2026 with a new album,” promises Joey Belladonna at the end of an incredibly short set. Yeah, we’ll see, dude. You’ve been saying that for the best part of a decade.
However, for all my cynicism and the never-ending disappointment that a four/five-song set features two covers, Anthrax can create a real storm in a very short space of time. They are a band who generate huge responses, and their arrival with the theme from the Blues Brothers, which I admit sees me skipping around the photo pit in glee, sparks the first wave of crowd surfers who don’t stop for the rest of the afternoon. 
Among The Living (intro) segues into Caught In A Mosh, and suddenly it’s 1987 again. It’s a song that you cannot help but get involved with, and its infectious groove is brought to life with Belladonna and Frank Bello running around the vast stage like loons.
Meanwhile, it’s riff master Scott Ian who catches the attention as well. He’s one of the best in the business, and he’s throwing those riffs out like they are going out of fashion. Skipping, raging, calling a halt during Indians for the lack of movement when he screams War Dance. It’s all great fun. 
The arrival of Antisocial and, to a lesser extent, Got The Time are disappointing, given the catalogue, but the band know their audience. Indians sees them race off stage to keep to time, but this is a band who the UK and Wales love.
A full set in Cardiff next year would be most excellent.
Mastodon
Brent Hinds departure may have sent some waves around the Metal world, but in Nick Johnson, the band has an able replacement. The Canadian virtuoso has an excellent CV, and he slots in stage right with appalling ease as Mastodon thunder through their predominantly old-school set. 
I haven’t seen them for a few years, and whilst drummer Brann Dailor hasn’t changed, Troy Sanders’ totally white/grey appearance confirms that time marches on. He, like the rest of the band, is in fine form, as they open with Black Tongue that gets the crowd, already simmering from the Hatebreed set, grooving.
Megaladon, one of my all-time favourites, is crushing, whilst More Than I Could Chew from the underrated Hushed And Grim is the token nod to more recent material. It works well, and Troy, alongside Bill Kelliher and touring keyboardist João ‘Rasta’ Nogueira, seem to be having a good time. 
Plundering Remission with a ferocious Mother Puncher has the old school, including me, grinning, and the finale of a short set sees the band roar through Blood And Thunder.
The promise of a return to a city that Troy confirms is long overdue a full visit is exciting, and on this performance, I’ll be back in the crowd to see them. 
Hatebreed
How do you warm up an early crowd who are still fighting their way to get into the venue? 15-minutes after gates, there are thousands still queuing to access the site.
But step up Jamie Jasta and Hatebreed, who know a thing or two about warming things up. They don’t mess about. Piling seven songs into an opening 20-minute set.
Jasta is a blur, stoking things from the start, as they punish the early arrivals with I Will Be Heard. The front row is word-perfect, settling in for their evening of fist punching, and the early pitters get their warm-ups.
Destroy Everything is as aggressive as ever, and despite their Metalcore tendencies, Hatebreed sit comfortably within the line-up.
This Is Now signals the arrival of the Balls Of Death, and they are well heavy as the front rows bounce back and fore, much to the pit crew’s irritation.
I’m laughing as, time and again, the huge balls smack hi-vis-clad souls on the bonce!
Back in Cardiff in October with Killswitch Engage, which we will be covering, it’s a powerful start to an evening that gets better as it progresses.
