Word and Live Photos: DJ
Myglobalmind and Screaming Digital Productions
Mars Music Hall, Huntsville, AL
November 12, 2025
There’s something poetic about watching a band exhume their defining work two decades later—especially when that band seemingly vanished from the cultural conversation for the better part of ten years. Wednesday night at Mars Music Hall, Chiodos proved that some albums are built to endure, delivering a spirited full-album performance of All’s Well That Ends Well that felt both like a time capsule and a reintroduction.
For those of us who’ve been covering the tenured punk and post-hardcore circuit for decades—stretching back to the Warped Tour glory days of the early 2010s—nights like this offer a fascinating lens into how bands evolve, adapt, or in some cases, reconstruct themselves entirely. Chiodos hasn’t been a household name since their mid-2010s dissolution, making this anniversary run all the more intriguing. When Craig Owens announced his return under the Chiodos banner at When We Were Young Festival in 2024, it came with a caveat: this wasn’t the original lineup. Instead, Owens assembled his Destroy Rebuild Until God Shows bandmates alongside Frail Body’s Nicholas Clemenson on drums—a Chiodos in spirit, if not in original form.
The evening kicked off with Big Ass Truck, a band unfamiliar to many in attendance but one that made an immediate impression. Their frontman channeled the kind of post-metalcore theatrical aggression that felt right at home on this bill—all coiled energy and unpredictable stage movements that kept the early crowd engaged.
Then came Emmure, and with them, a complete tonal shift. Frankie Palmeri and company don’t traffic in aesthetics or stage banter—they deal in pure sonic brutality. The lights went down, the distortion cranked up to almost comical levels, and for thirty-plus minutes, Emmure pummeled the venue into submission. Holy hell, the sheer wall of sound during their set was relentless. This wasn’t about connecting with the crowd through nostalgia; this was about making your chest cavity vibrate. Palmeri’s middle-finger-to-convention approach remains as unapologetic as ever, and in that darkened room, it was absolutely punishing in the best way possible.
Hawthorne Heights followed, delivering the kind of set that’s become their bread and butter on these nostalgia-driven tours. There’s comfort in watching a band that knows exactly who they are, leaning into their catalog of mid-2000s emo anthems with workmanlike precision. They warmed up the room effectively, priming the audience for the emotional release to come.
When Chiodos finally took the stage, Craig Owens emerged dressed entirely in white—a striking visual that immediately commanded attention. Say what you will about lineup changes and decade-long absences, but Owens still possesses that ineffable stage presence that made Chiodos compelling in the first place. There’s a mystique to him, a theatrical intensity that recalls the band’s earlier records when they were pushing post-hardcore into more experimental, baroque territories.
The setlist ran through All’s Well That Ends Well in its entirety, from the frenetic opening of “The Undertaker’s Thirst for Revenge Is Unquenchable” to the closing catharsis of “Baby, You Wouldn’t Last a Minute on the Creek.” The new lineup—though missing the chemistry of the original members who weren’t asked to participate—acquitted themselves admirably. They navigated the album’s dynamic shifts, from the caustic screams of “There’s No Penguins in Alaska” to the melodic vulnerability of “The Words ‘Best Friend’ Become Redefined,” with competence if not the raw electricity of Chiodos’ peak years.
Highlights included a particularly visceral rendition of “No Hardcore Dancing in the Living Room” and the proggy indulgence of “Thermacare,” which allowed the band to showcase their technical chops. The inclusion of “The Only Thing You Talk About,” a Destroy Rebuild Until God Shows cover, felt like an acknowledgment of Owens’ journey since Chiodos’ initial dissolution—a bridge between past and present.
Clemenson handled drumming duties with power and precision, while the DRUGS members filled out the sound faithfully. Was it the definitive Chiodos experience? Perhaps not. But it was a reminder of why All’s Well That Ends Well mattered in the first place—its chaotic blend of screamo intensity, theatrical ambition, and unvarnished emotion still resonates.
Looking back at these bands’ progressions over the years, it’s fascinating to see how some maintain their original lineups and vision while others, like Chiodos, become more of a conceptual entity carried by a singular voice. This version of Chiodos may be a reconstruction rather than a reunion, but on Wednesday night, they made a compelling case for the enduring power of these songs. In an era where “reunion tours” often feel like cash grabs, there was something genuine about watching Owens inhabit these lyrics again—still committed, still theatrical, still capable of conjuring that same aura that made Chiodos matter two decades ago.
Whether this anniversary tour represents a true rebirth or merely a nostalgic victory lap remains to be seen. But for one night in Huntsville, Chiodos reminded Mars Music Hall why they were worth remembering in the first place.
https://chiodos.band/pages/tour
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