Maryland Deathfest for me remains one of the most beloved metal festivals in the U.S. — right up there with the 70,000 Tons of Metal cruise — so the end of May once again turned into a glorious four-day chaos bath of every imaginable subgenre of heavy music, smack in the middle of Baltimore.
This year leaned heavy on doom (the first day was practically a doom-exclusive), as well as the usual helping of thrash and, of course, death metal. A little bit of black metal made it in too, though in 2025 there’s now a separate fest handling the kvlt side of things — and if it actually happens this fall, it’s set to be a historic event in the underground scene on both sides of the Mississippi.
Weather, once again, was on our side: warm by day, comfortably cool at night, which meant even the leather-clad bands weren’t reduced to sweaty puddles of suffering.
This time, there were almost no cancellations. BLOOD RED THRONE didn’t make it, and KAMPFAR lost their gear somewhere in the air transit labyrinth — but even so, they powered through and delivered one of the most grand, dramatic (in a good way), and straight-up epic club sets of the whole fest. Talk about rising from the ashes.
The one logistical pothole this year? Power outages at one of the venues. A week before the fest, a series of biblical rainstorms rolled through the East Coast, and parts of Baltimore got flooded — apparently taking some club circuitry down with it. As a result, SVARTTJERN’s set got snipped down to just one song (literally caught the final riff), and NEGATIVE PLANE’s excellent, off-the-wall performance was sliced in half by the technical gods of misfortune.
And while we’re on the subject of letdowns, here’s a hot take: some personal gripes about MDF 2025.
This year, the organizers went all-in on doom, including some rare and legendary names (DUSK!). Which is great… in theory. But most of these bands were scheduled for Thursday — the fest’s first day, when the main stages aren’t yet up and running, and everyone’s still scattered across small clubs trying to find their bearings. Which meant sets by DUSK, EVOKEN, MOURNFUL CONGREGATION, SHAPE OF DESPAIR were packed — but not with fans of the genre, just with people who had nowhere else to go.
Crowds milled about, looking lost, yawning, chatting — and many clearly checked out mentally, especially with the near-total darkness on stage. Watching guys chisel out one sorrowful chord every sixty seconds while scowling in pitch blackness is a tough sell for casuals.
And let’s be real: throwing a tidal wave of ultra-slow, soul-draining music on Day One, when people are still fresh, hyped, buzzed, and ready to party away their work stress — when friends are reuniting, livers are still functional, feet aren’t destroyed — just didn’t feel like the right vibe.
I love this kind of music, but getting into the doom headspace amid all that energy was a battle. In the end, of all the mournful, glacial acts on Thursday, only DUSK really landed — massive, crushing, death-doom DUSK. The rest lacked the right setting and mindset.
But the next day? With the initial madness burned off, under the starry night sky, cooled by a gentle breeze and wrapped in the stillness of festival fatigue, SKEPTICISM took the big stage. And that’s when it all clicked.
In full funeral garb, with bouquets of white flowers, the Finnish legends rolled out their funereal procession and froze the entire crowd. The front rows stood eyes closed — deepening the surreal illusion that the earth had opened up, ready to swallow us all, and these somber men were here to help us dig our own graves. Everything synced — sound, moment, atmosphere — and it was pure magic. One of the most haunting, unforgettable sets of the fest.
Another standout? Predictable, but no less glorious: PARADISE LOST playing Draconian Times in full. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Nothing prepares you for screaming “Are you forever…” through tears in the front row. Truly transcendent. The band played it perfectly, with zero fluff or fanfare. Grim, focused, majestic.
The only exception? Guitarist Aaron Aedy, beaming like a blissed-out Cheshire cat, possibly riding high on some of Baltimore’s mysterious mushrooms. He grinned from ear to ear all set — pure joy.
These are the moments worth living for.
After the emotional obliteration of Draconian Times, listening to anything else that night felt pointless. So TRIPTYKON’s first set (original material) totally passed me by. The second set, with CELTIC FROST material, came on the final day — and by then, we’d all mostly recovered.
Side note: Tom looked absolutely drained during both sets. Like he wasn’t sure why he was still doing this.
Other veteran bands looked way more alive — especially HIRAX, who brought more fire than most bands half their age.
There was a clever little lifehack cooked up by those trying to save money on tickets and booze: since the fest takes place right in the middle of the city, one of the main stages could be watched from a nearby parking garage. Just drive up to the top floors (bonus: parking discounts for attendees), stock your trunk with all the drinks your heart desires, and enjoy the show from your personal elevated VIP zone. Some even crashed in their cars overnight — saving money like true warriors of budget black metal.
The drone views were glorious.
Now, in the videos it may look like the crowd was small — but don’t be fooled. In 2025, Maryland Deathfest was running at full capacity, and tickets for all the club venues had sold out probably six months earlier. Since the fest takes place in the middle of a city (not a field with tents and sad porta-potties), the total attendance caps at around 7,000. But thanks to that, and unlike at the hundred-thousand-dollar corporate fests with their corporate lineups, at MDF any true fan can fight their way to the front, actually see their favorite band, and hear every sweaty riff firsthand.
No big screens. None needed.
Another cool thing: you could sometimes catch musicians warming up just off stage while someone else was playing — stretching, posing, psyching themselves up. Very behind-the-scenes-core.
Now, speaking of theatricality — SIGH. One of the most visually striking bands of the fest (alongside Cult of Fire). The long-running Japanese avant-garde weirdos, led by Mirai Kawashima and Mika Kawashima aka Dr. Mikannibal, came in with massive legend status and a new album around the corner (I Saw the World’s End – Hangman’s Hymn MMXXV). I’d never seen them live before — and yeah, I was hoping for something magical, exotic, strange.
What I got instead was… pure disappointment.
Musically, no complaints if you know what to expect. But the stage show was just cheap cosplay: a parade of kids who looked bored half the time, random makeout sessions meant to be “provocative,” and an overall lack of any cohesion. Just people in costumes flailing around for the sake of flailing. It felt like I was watching someone else’s chaotic backyard Halloween party, set to a decent soundtrack. Totally unbearable.
Thankfully, after the Japanese carnival madness, the real party began. The sanitation workers arrived. And oh boy.
Some attendees had been confused by all the toilet brushes and toilet seat props in the audience. But once GUTALAX took the stage, the most outrageously fun set of the whole fest erupted — complete with flying toilet paper, wild pits, crowd surfers wearing inflatable poop necklaces and toilet lids. Then it all clicked. GUTALAX = joy. GUTALAX = life. GUTALAX = MDF royalty.
When the set ended, the crowd wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
Who in their right mind scheduled DARK FUNERAL right after a poop-themed party band? I can’t imagine. Needless to say, evil lost to poop. Gloriously.
Also hilarious: photos of DARK FUNERAL frontman posing near the big IHOP pancake sign across the street. Never has pancake advertising looked so grim and kvlt.
Now for some standout bands I’d never seen before:
GORGASM! A band that’s had tons of respected musicians pass through over the years, but the one constant is Damian Leski (currently also in BROKEN HOPE). These guys are like a relentless meat grinder — or a rusted drill boring into your skull. Brutal, cold, mechanical. Super impressive.
UNLEASHED brought cheerful old-school viking energy and top-tier beer-splashing. They (along with ASPHYX and BENEDICTION) basically hit every pub in town, and I’m pretty sure BENEDICTION were hammered when they got on stage. Still, UNLEASHED whipped up some of the best pit-circle-party moments of the weekend.
HIRAX — not usually my thing musically, but Katon de Pena is hands-down one of the most charismatic, infectiously energetic thrash frontmen alive. Over 60, still shredded and full of fire, he ran across the entire stage (and beyond), dove into the crowd, climbed the fence separating the fest from the street, waved to random pedestrians, pulled out the sun and clouds, shook hands with half the venue, and basically hosted a neighborhood block party. Insanely fun and so genuine.
Compared to that, RAZOR, who played next and are close in age, just looked like sleepy Canadian uncles.
KRONOS — an underrated brutal French band with songs about Greek myths. Killer comeback.
WORMED — technical/brutal Spanish monsters, back from the dead last year with Omegon. Delivered the goods with precision and alien insanity.
In the “predictably excellent” category:
PYREXIA (love their turbo-churning sound),
OBITUARY (playing Cause of Death — yeah, they’ve gotten chunky, but they’re always fantastic live).
KRISIUN,
INCANTATION (still tearing through their timeless Onward to Golgotha-style gloom),
ASPHYX (wild, charming, old-school as hell — just pure MDF energy).
I missed TANKARD because I was watching KRALLICE, but honestly… I probably should’ve gone for the beer bros.
BENEDICTION — kind of a mess, and I’m pretty sure they were drunk.
NILE — love them, but their set was half soundcheck, a third dramatic intro posing by Vadim, and then suddenly it was over because I had to run elsewhere. The only band that spent more time fiddling with gear than actually playing.
As always, there were too many bands to see, too much going on, and not enough hours in the day. But that’s part of the charm — the overwhelming, chaotic, sweaty joy of trying to do it all.
And even if you don’t catch everything, the memories, the vibe, the people… it’s what makes it all worth it.
See you in 2026, you beautiful filthy maniacs!
