Volbeat @ Utah First Credit Union Amphitheatre 07.19.2025

Volbeat onstage with impressive lighting surrounded by amps.

Volbeat rocked down the house at the Utah First Amphitheatre.

Concert

On one peculiarly cold summer night during sophomore year, after recently smashing the front end of my V6 Volvo wagon to a decommissioned standard, my father was driving me from place to place. Maybe we were out fucking around or stopping at 7-Eleven for a bottled Baja Blast, but those details don’t matter. During our late night shenanigans, the thunderous charge of a demonic Stratocaster tried to claw its way out of the Blazer’s crappy speakers. What followed was an intense sense of conquered teenage rage, as my body heightened in goosebumps from a bellowing battle cry: “LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE!” No one knew it yet, but that heavy metal rock band from Copenhagen, Denmark would forever leave a lasting imprint on my musical taste…

Forged in 2001, Volbeat has been blacksmithing a magma-dipped fusion of metal, rock and psychobilly, leaving a razor-sharp sound that’s distinctly their own. The stampeding, rocksteady rumble from drummer Jon Larsen and bassist Kaspar Boye Larsen would make it a headbanger’s ball, but it’s the bluesy, soulful vocals and high-voltage guitar riffs from Michael Schøn Poulsen that take center stage. With nine studio albums under their belt, including the fresh-off-the-press release of God of Angels Trust, a world tour was necessary. Now, I begged to have an interview with the band, although it wasn’t in the cards with the European time difference and my attempt to make last-minute decisions work. However, I was willing to travel to the other side of the Salt Lake Valley to the quarry crater that is the Utah First Credit Union Amphitheatre, because God forbid I miss a night like this. Prepare to watch this Titanomachy triumph!

Settling into my seat with a $7 Dr. Pepper and fishnet stockings slicing into my abdomen, The Ghost Inside began their opening set. A pretty decent band, even though their screamo metalcore is not the type of jam I’d usually gravitate towards. With guttural grunts from the back of the throat, high-octane chords and drums that sounded like they were loading an arsenal of prowlers, it was a crystal clear performance that can be appreciated all the way back to the lawn seating. Coming straight out of left field was our second opener, Halestorm! Never in a million years was I expecting an ensemble like theirs to channel old Judas Priest, but fucking A, did they kill it! There I was, throwing up the devil horns while Lzzy Hale came strutting out in a charcoal, star leotard like a dark-showered Poison Ivy to siren scream “I Miss The Misery” live. These were rockstars at their finest — flicking guitar pick souvenirs into the crowd, cranking out Type-A licks from a pyramid of Marshall amps, Arejay Hale conjuring a tropical cyclone on a candied-lime drumset and breaking out a comically huge pair of big boy drum sticks. Two solid performances from two clashing titans, but it was only a matter of time before the grizzly behemoth was awakened…

It was a bold strategy to start off the set with both “A Warrior’s Call” and “Pool of Booze, Booze, Booza.” Those tracks alone would’ve sufficed, but the bangers didn’t stop. Each heart-pounding track kept getting better and better, as the crowd of cheering fanatics grew only louder. What took me away was the easy balance of new and old tracks. One minute, I was fading into “Sad Man’s Tongue” and mouthing Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire.” Next, I was adding “The Devil Rages On” to my everyday playlist. Something old, something new, and something that was about to leave me black and blue. None of these, however, matched up with hearing “Shotgun Blues” in full. Poulsen’s churning riffs creep up your body like an infectious zombie virus, as haunting lyrics rip you apart (in the most stab happy of ways). Not one body in that whole arena was sitting, especially not a cold gentleman wearing a cropped bar T-shirt with a tramp stamp tattoo of Tigger looking down his crack in search of Pooh. The final send-off to this SLC performance was the 2008 track from Guitar Gangsters & Cadillac Blood, “Still Counting.” There’s a friendly chord chug that exudes a Southern hospitality feel and a steady bass drum, which immediately shifts into a rebellious aftershock. The people next to me shouted every single lyric by heart, until Poulsen expressed his gratitude: “Thank you very much for listening.”

As I briskly staggered back to the Uber pickup to evade the tire tread constipation that was about to unfold, I was deeply satisfied. Sure, my ears were still muffled from my nearby front row spot and I had to take out an insurance policy to buy a cocktail, but nothing quite beats a band like Volbeat. They were the perfect escape that got me through the worst (and best) of times, with music that hits just the right note. Plus, belting out every song in synchronicity was an excellent tongue warmup for karaoke later that night. So, I tip my hat to those Copenhagen cowboys — don’t be a stranger!