“I was there, Virgil,” I declared solemnly between mouthfuls of cheesesteak at Grazie Grazie, grease indelicately dripping onto wax paper. “Some 20 years ago, at the 9:30 Club, when Roadrunner Records anointed their chosen son, Matt Heafy, with Dimebag Darrell’s guitar, and a very illegal shot of whiskey for an underage minor, to honor the late legend. I bore witness.”
Virgil, unimpressed, dipped his fries in the house-made cheese whiz. “You know,” he retorted, “I think you’ve mentioned it before.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mock me all you want, but that night felt important. I was a fresh-faced DJ at Mary Wash’s WMWC, getting into concerts for free and playing these bands in heavy rotation. It was a rite of passage for college radio.”
Virgil nodded. “Of course it was. That’s the point. Our lived experiences define us and nostalgia is a powerful expression of those experiences!”
Nostalgia hung thick tonight, a continuation of our recent pilgrimage through the Aughties. Trivium and Bullet for My Valentine, twin headliners, had decided to bless their fans by performing Ascendancy and The Poison respectively, each marking their 20-year anniversaries. This was more than a concert! It was a communion with our younger selves.
Inside The Anthem on May 6, a fan confessed she’d rather be at The Fillmore Silver Spring (“better metal venue,” she shrugged), but she was here for Scotland’s metalcore heroes, Bleed from Within. “She probably has a crush,” Virgil whispered; the Scots do have charm. Whatever the draw, Bleed from Within arrived at precisely 6:30pm, pummeling the still-growing crowd with thunderous riffs and infectious Glaswegian charisma. “Levitate” soared epically, and “I Am Damnation” spawned instant, spontaneous crowd-surfing rituals. The singer, Scott Kennedy, demanded a Wall of Death, and the crowd joyously obeyed. Their finale featured bagpipes, stirring my inner William Wallace.
Watch the official music video for “Levitate” by Bleed from Within on YouTube:
August Burns Red, from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, entered unexpectedly to System of a Down’s “Chop Suey!” before seamlessly commandeering the song themselves. “Paramount” demanded circle pits; “Composure” commanded yet more. Virgil, waxing poetic after the third wall of death, remarked: “You know, it’s like Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. It’s all variations on the same damn theme.” He wasn’t wrong, but no one minded. Even fathers and sons bonded over their first communal show. Nostalgia’s magic struck again.
When Bullet for My Valentine emerged from the shadows, heralded by grandiose visuals and the swelling roar of the near-capacity Anthem, I realized too late I’d forgotten my earplugs and was reminded that nostalgia was suddenly very loud. The Welsh quartet thundered through “Her Voice Resides,” “Tears Don’t Fall,” and “Suffocating Under Words of Sorrow,” the singer pausing briefly to chuckle nostalgically: “We wrote this twenty years ago when we were young and naive.” Indeed we all were, and tonight we revelled in that collective innocence once more. The circle pit grew immense, drawing in unsuspecting souls and expelling joyous crowd-surfers with violent beauty.
By the encore set featuring “Your Betrayal,” “Waking the Demon,” and “Scream Aim Fire”, the pit reached critical mass, a swirling singularity consuming all in the vicinity. Bullet For My Valentine, victorious, departed slowly to Pantera’s “Walk,” generously dispensing guitar picks and drumsticks like communion wafers.
Watch the official music video for “Your Betrayal” by Bullet for My Valentine on YouTube:
Finally, it was Trivium’s turn, and there stood Matt Heafy, shirtless, ripped, and now very legally a grown-ass man. Trivium launched immediately into their album “Ascendancy,” and I was thrown back two decades, watching Heafy wield Dimebag’s legendary guitar on stage at the 9:30 Club while he was young, anointed, and untouchable. But The Anthem’s crowd tonight was oddly indifferent at first. Had Bullet for My Valentine stolen all their devotion?
Then Heafy himself, sensing the divide, reminisced aloud: “Last time we played DC, almost twenty years ago, I was here with Dimebag’s guitar at the 9:30 club” (he did not mention the questionable whiskey). I turned sharply to Virgil, my eyes wide with validation. Heafy summoned a circle pit to surpass Montreal (“Massive boos, why are we ragging on the Canadians again?” Virgil groused), and The Anthem answered. “A Gunshot to the Head of Trepidation,” bolstered by Scott Kennedy from Bleed from Within, ignited the room. By “Like Light to the Flies,” the pit was undeniable, a cyclone with an eye eerily calm amidst a tempest of thrashing limbs. Heafy, reflective, shared insights into his teenage angst while writing “Ascendency,” fatherhood, and personal growth. I couldn’t help but think about our parallel yet divergent journeys in the interceding years.
Watch the official music video for “Like Light to the Flies” on YouTube:
Ending on their more recent hit “In Waves,” they mercifully skipped the encore ritual, leaving us to Black Sabbath’s “Heaven & Hell.” Outside, Virgil overheard lingering fans affirm that many had indeed come primarily for Bullet, departing midway through Trivium’s set. But tonight wasn’t about a popularity contest, it was about the enduring appeal of Aughties Nostalgia. Walking away, ears ringing, Virgil reminded me: “Nostalgia never loses. It’s why we show up.” “Indeed,” I replied. “But seriously — did I mention I was there when Heafy got Dimebag’s guitar?”
Here are some photos of Trivium and Bullet for My Valentine with August Burns Red and Bleed From Within at The Anthem on May 6, 2025. All pictures copyright and courtesy of Gerald Henry.
