Virgil and I stood nervously at the fresh mound of earth. In his hands glowed one of those damned light-up magic swords he’d impulsively bought at last week’s bazaar in Baltimore. Before us lay the alleged final resting place of Rivethead — once a towering figure of industrial and electro music fandom, now apparently deceased from cultural neglect. With hesitant reverence, Virgil thrust the sword into the earth. Lightning erupted, and Rivethead jerked upright through the dirt, blinking at us through bleary eyes. Rivethead’s awakening was unexpected this soon in the ritual and startled us so badly that we bolted into the night with our magic sword in tow. “I just wanted to wake up Rivethead and bring them to see The Birthday Massacre!” yelled Virgil as we fled for the cemetery gates.
Nevertheless, duty beckoned, and April 28’s lineup at DC’s Union Stage promised a perfect requiem of Industrial Rock for a host that was hundreds strong. Essenger opened the show, a one-man invocation of retro-industrial soundscapes. Bathed in layered vocal chants and synth-driven melodies, his offerings stirred a dedicated crowd. Tracks like “Empire of Steel” escalated the gathering into near-ritual frenzy. He summoned “Silence,” co-written with synthwave luminaries The Midnight, before asserting dominance with his song “I Am Your God Now.” Joined briefly by a spectral singer named Echos for the haunting (You Can Be My) “Downfall,” Essenger’s set underscored a vibrant scene refusing to be forgotten and embracing new musical textures.
Stream “Downfall” by Essenger featuring Lexi Norton on YouTube:
After a crowd-pleasing interlude dominated by Limp Bizkit (another undead musical genre refusing peaceful rest), The Birthday Massacre ascended. The Canadian sextet emerged from swirling synth mists with “Sleep Tonight,” immediately engaging the audience in a joyous communion. Frontwoman Chibi, petite yet formidable, charmed the crowd effortlessly. Shouted affirmations from adoring fans of “you’re killing it!” brought genuine laughter — a moment of shared humanity.
Tracks like “Oceana” and “Shallow Grave” felt fittingly ritualistic, escalating toward a barrage of breakdowns, each riff driving deeper into communal ecstasy. Their encore, marked by an exuberant balloon toss and a heart-filled sing-along of “Blue,” encountered technical disruptions, silencing everything but bass and drums briefly. But the audience, loyal and undeterred, carried the vocals forward until guitars rejoined triumphantly.
Watch the official music video for “Blue” by The Birthday Massacre on YouTube:
Before the house lights returned, I spotted a familiar figure near the bar — Rivethead, very much animated, rhythmically swaying. Approaching cautiously, we asked about our botched ritual. Rivethead rolled their eyes. “I wasn’t dead,” they sighed. “I just sleep underground during the day. You guys woke me up early, and that was pretty rude if I must say.” Sheepishly, we apologized. “No worries,” Rivethead laughed, “as long as folks keep coming out for Industrial music, I’ll never die.”
