Words – KILLER
Photos – @djsedick
The sun was setting, my ears were still ringing from the previous night, but with what tonight had instore… it did not matter
Hindley Street Music Hall Adelaide, felt like a thousand volts of nostalgia and adrenaline. A generation of broken bones and (hopefully) healed hearts came crawling back tonight to pay tribute to the band that built the blueprint for Australian metalcore — I Killed The Prom Queen.
But before the guys took the stage, the under-card made damn sure Adelaide knew this wasn’t some washed-up nostalgia tour.
Threshold blew the night open like a steel-toed boot to the ribs. The vocals hit – rugged, cohesive and hard as nails.
The kind that sound like they’ve been soaked in bleach and concrete. The breakdowns shook the room and the breathing organism of sweat and fury that was the mosh pit had exploded like a whale breaching a still ocean. They set the tone perfectly: no posing, no warm-up, just hardcore. And chaos.
Then came To The Grave, stomping into the spotlight like a Voltron execution squad in its ultimate form. Now, I wasn’t ready for the vocalist clad in a pig mask. A symbol of their message about slaughter, consumption, and self-destruction. The frontman’s brutal delivery hit like he was exorcising the whole country, and every down-tuned chug felt like an earthquake waiting to happen. This was fold you in half music. Breakdowns that turn you into a deck chair and make you want to touch your head to your toes. And I’m living for it. The highlight was seeing Connor from Gosika filling in on the drums. This kid can hit and he hits hard.
Now.. Emmure slap different. Pure violence with a hip-hop undercurrent and swagger dripping from every groove. Vocals punched you in the face and like a dumbell. The breakdowns were heavy. Like the band had been carrying the weight of the world and finally let it all go. The pit turned into a dojo with spinning kicks and fists in a totally controlled chaos. All the “kids” from back in the day relived their glory days, came out of mosh retirement and will be feeling this night for days to come. By the end of their set, people were gasping, wide-eyed, and grinning.
And then — the ghosts arrived.
When I Killed The Prom Queen took the stage, the energy shifted. The room changed from chaos to reverence. The lights dropped red, and suddenly, we were back in the early 2000s. All ages shows, MySpace, burnt CDs — the beginning of something none of us knew would shape a generation.
The band stormed the stage, and the crowd erupted. Michael Crafter sounded massive, commanding the room (and at one point diving into the crowd ) like the same unhinged frontman we all remembered.
When they tore through the early EP tracks (songs from their first release and the Parkway Drive / IKTPQ split) you could feel the twenty years of history screaming back at them from the crowd. Every sung part became a choir. Every scream was a shared purification. From my perch on the balcony, I could see grown adults shouting lyrics like they were chanting mantra ‘s and lost in every second of it
Then came the moment that stopped everything. S.K Forever. Crafter took a deep breath and spoke from the heart about Sean, about mental health, about the friends we’ve lost along the way. The room fell silent. Even the lights seemed to hold still. This was not performance. It was raw and way heavier than any music tonight. For a moment it felt like change. A change we need to see. At the mention of S.K the room once again exploded. It was so nice to see my friends face everywhere on shirts and in people eyes (RIP S.K we love and miss you).
And then, just as quick, they snapped the room back to stomping feet, raised hands and a swirling moshpit full of lifetime memory’s.
Twenty-five years on, and I Killed The Prom Queen are still a band you should not sleep on. No nostalgia act — but a living monument to the golden age of Australian metalcore, and a reminder of why this scene still bleeds.
As the night finished the crowds filtered back on to the street, sweaty, smiling and ready to do it all over. The memory’s we will carry forever but the ghosts. The ghosts stayed.
Adelaide remembered. Adelaide roared. Adelaide burned.
We all have ghosts. Ghosts of the past, of lost friends and family, when nostalgia hits we are hit with emotion, of heartbreaks, friendships formed at shows and teenage angst that never really went away.
Twenty-five years, one legacy, and a crowd full of ghosts — I Killed The Prom Queen brought the fire back to Adelaide.
This is the gospel.
I bite crowd surfers
Killer
Massive thanks to the crew at Hindley Street Music Hall, Lochlan Watt and Destroy All Lines.
EVERYDAY METAL – SUPPORT LOCAL HEAVY METAL
