It’s strange, but after witnessing the all-consuming, absolutely feral energy of California’s Deafheaven, the headliners — Mastodon — suddenly looked like dinosaurs.
Not old, not washed up, and certainly not out of shape. But for the first time, the Georgia heavyweights reminded us of Metallica: a band that can still put out genuinely great records (and Mastodon’s latest album is damn good), deliver a killer live performance, and command a room — yet probably won’t surprise us the way they once did.
Are we bashing Mastodon? Hell no.
After an exceptionally difficult few years, they’re still in fantastic live form. The musicianship is there, the power is there, and the songs still hit hard. But watching them in Greensboro on October 21, 2026, it became difficult to ignore the contrast between a band that once represented the future of heavy music and a younger act that seemed determined to tear that future apart.
Twenty years ago, Mastodon were the dangerous, unpredictable innovators we fell in love with. Today, they’re something else: legends who have become monuments to their own greatness.
There’s nothing wrong with that. Even dinosaurs can roar. But sometimes, the next generation makes you realize just how long it’s been since the old monsters truly shook the earth.
Photo: Metalgigs.us
Chuck B. Ballsy, affectionately known in the satirical world as “The Sultan of Snark,” is a self-proclaimed sports expert who peaked athletically in middle school dodgeball.
Born in Halfcourt, Indiana, Chuck spent his formative years shouting unsolicited advice at professional athletes on TV, firmly believing that his couchside coaching was the key to their success.
Chuck B. Ballsy: because in the game of sports and sarcasm, he’s always the MVP. 🏀🎤
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