NORTHWEST TERROR FEST 2025: THE FULL REPORT

(We are most grateful to Denver-based NCS writer Gonzo for this amazingly comprehensive and vivid report on the 2025 edition of Northwest Terror Fest. Except where noted, the photos are credited to PNW photographer extraordinaire J. Donovan Malley and NWTF staff.)

This won’t be true for everyone, but for me, there are perhaps no other words in the English language that have sparked more friendships than “hey man, nice shirt.”

I remembered this as I was standing on the corner of 10th Ave & Pike St. at just before 4 p.m. on a clear Thursday afternoon in Seattle. The 2025 Northwest Terror Fest was less than an hour from officially kicking off. I was in front of Neumos and Barboza clad in my long-sleeved Blood Incantation shirt amid a small crowd of similarly clad festival diehards. As usual, I was looking for Islander – both to say hi and to grab my festival pass for the weekend – and before I could even find the man himself, I got sucked into my first conversation with a stranger about our mutual love for Blood Incantation.

This interaction set the stage perfectly for the next three days of music, friends, community, and probably more beer than one man’s liver should ever be tasked with handling. It was once again time for me to dive headfirst into Northwest Terror Fest.

 

DAY ONE: THURSDAY, MAY 8

These days, it seems like festivals need to offer more than just a comfortable setting to watch three or four days of music to keep people coming back each year. And for a small festival like this, community is king. If you’re in this business simply for the money, it’ll become pretty obvious very quickly.

NWTF has always done a remarkable job of not only keeping the community strong over the years but somehow managing to reinvent itself a little more each year. It’s dabbled in hosting all sorts of acts, from what-you’d-expect ranks of underground death metal royalty to the lesser-known likes of goth, industrial, experimental, folk, and more. The organizers have always kept all these as top priorities. Getting a front-row seat to watch NWTF grow has been an incredible experience.

On paper, the 2025 iteration had a decisively more metallic focus – and not just your average run-of-the-mill headbangers. I’m talking about destination-level shit that grabs people from the farthest reaches of the metal underground to show up.

In that spirit of the festival itself, local Seattle crust punk/thrash unit Axefear would soon be kicking us off. The band was kind enough to answer the call when a small last-minute lineup shuffle went down, and now this band – formed in 2022 – would get the honor of being first up.

Their energetic stage presence seemed to instantly inject the downstairs crowd at Barboza; their fiendish riffs and untamed energy delivered a bold statement to everyone in attendance: Buckle up.

photo by Zoe Sharkey

Through the cavernous underbelly of the venue I went, up the stairs from the green room to a front-and-center view of the main stage at Neumos to watch The Devils of Loudon. I’d spun up the band’s full-length Escaping Eternity earlier that week, and I instantly was a fan of their serpentine tech death. Their performance didn’t disappoint: Fretwork gymnastics, furious tempos, relentless blast beats, and a frontman with a bravura stage presence.

Remember that “community” thing I was talking about earlier? That doesn’t just apply to the crowd. Few in attendance on either side of the stage know this better than Ethan McCarthy. The multi-instrumentalist and vocalist of Primitive Man, Vermin Womb, and Spiritual Poison is no stranger to this festival. He would be playing more than one set this weekend, and the first would be with Many Blessings.

McCarthy’s one-man harsh noise project brought a decisively unsettling feeling to Barboza. As if to add to the crushing noise emanating from his mixing board, McCarthy’s sudden and frantic pounding on the mixing board made it seem like the sounds were being generated by his own rage, and not via anything electronic. I’d have believed it.

Back upstairs, the cosmic horror of Seattle’s Xoth would soon be on display. I’d somehow never seen this band play live, even after all my time living in this city in another life. Guitarist/vocalist Tyler Sturgill’s Devin Townsend-style hilarity gave me instant FOMO about that. I’ll attempt to paraphrase why:

“This next song,” he bellowed after the band’s opening salvo, “is about being abducted by reptilian aliens and then being sucked up into the mothership and then you look around and you realize you’re being forced to fight all your friends to the death for their entertainment! This is called REPTILIAN BLOODSPORT!”

It wouldn’t have felt like Terror Fest if I hadn’t caught this set.

I had a chance to catch up with our own Islander, Andy Synn, and DGR at this point, and got a re-introduction of sorts with one of NWTF’s main dudes, Joseph Schafer. It’s not every day I can catch all these guys in the same room together, and it’s always a pleasure to scream into the void with them all.

The group of us caught some of Vicious Blade’s set, and it was just as ruthless as I’d hoped. Frontwoman Clarissa Badini had torn apart this very stage at last year’s festival with Castrator, but Blade was more than up to the task of matching that energy. Her ferocious growls led the charge through a stampeding set that featured lot of material from last year’s heralded Relentless Force. It was only 6 p.m., and this venue had never felt more alive.

Boise, ID isn’t exactly known for its thriving metal scene, but that didn’t matter for Weald & Woe. The Boise-based quartet plays the same kind of melodic black metal popularized by the likes of Obsequiae and others. Think castles, swords, magic and mayhem, but (thankfully) without the power metal cheese factor. Considering the dense, layered style of music this outfit churns out, it was remarkable that Weald & Woe consists of just three guys. Their set captivated the downstairs crowd and earned them an untold number of new fans on the spot.

Meanwhile, Neumos was about to experience the raw power of Philly’s Sonja. The goth-tinged metal assault of this trio could not be denied. There’s something so welcoming and almost comforting in their no-bullshit approach to playing steady, driving metal. Hell, it’s a veritable checklist of everything you gotta love about heavy music: Head-nodding grooves, Melissa Moore’s powerful vocals, and songs that get right to the point. Extra bonus to Moore herself, who would be taking the stage again this weekend with her other band Crossspitter.

The trend of back-to-back power trios rocking the living shit out of this venue would only continue. Oakland’s Vorlust earned themselves some major buzz through the rest of the weekend with their set. Comparable to the likes of their local cohorts in Necrot, who once played this festival years ago, Vorlust tore through an epic set and got the first lively pit off the ground. There’s something so fulfilling about seeing this kind of skull-crushing death metal inside Barboza – it’s almost like this dingy downstairs venue was made for it, and Vorlust was a perfect fit.

“Damn, this guy is everywhere today,” my friend said as we got back upstairs to watch some of Vermin Womb’s set. “This guy” in that quote was of course Ethan McCarthy, who was playing double duty tonight with Womb and his previous set as Many Blessings. This time, the overwhelming, bellowing destruction being cast from the stage was atonal and bleak as hell. You wouldn’t really be wrong if you referred to Vermin Womb’s sound as a faster version of Primitive Man, but I digress.

I caught up with our own Andy Synn, Islander, and DGR when I walked outside for some air, since Ethan and his two bandmates just sucked all of it out of the room. It’s always great to catch up with these guys. And since we only get one chance per year, we often get sucked into what I can only describe as a conversation that’s slightly shorter than a long podcast. I crave this kind of social interaction, though.

Unfortunately, this time outside meant I’d miss most of Petrification downstairs. I did pop in to catch the last couple of songs, and my only observation was that the band closed out Barboza on a consistent note – mean, snarling death metal that sounds like it was being used in some esoteric demonic ritual.

So, Deceased is a band that’s been around for as long as anyone can remember. Hulking vocalist King Fowley reminded us of this, saying he was 16 when the band started and now he’s 56. For the mathematically challenged, that’s 40 whole goddamn years of Deceased. And yet, recent album Children of the Morgue – from which more than a few songs were featured tonight – plays exactly how you’d expect a Deceased album to sound. Translation: This seminal thrash outfit hasn’t lost a single step.

“Alright, this song’s about drinking embalming fluid!” Fowley proclaimed after a random tirade about taking PCP.

It’s times like this where you just have to shrug, smile, and jump into the fucking pit.

It would be one hell of a chore to try following up the energy Deceased conjured up, but Gorguts was up to the task. Frankly, I’d have been shocked if they weren’t. Whereas Deceased were content to tear through their set at warp speed, Gorguts always feels more refined on the stage. That’s not to say they hold anything back whatsoever, though – I just imagine that it’s hard to move your body very much while playing riffs this complex.

It’s wild to think that these Quebecers unleashed their first demo in 1989 and their first full-length in ’91. While this set was slated to be their only one of the entire year, Luc Lemay and co. haven’t slowed down a single bit. These tracks consume you like being run over by a Sherman tank in slow motion. More than three decades later, Gorguts still has many imitators and few equals.

 

DAY 2: FRIDAY, MAY 9

Today would be a mix of new discoveries and much-anticipated sets. Fun side-note: Before things even started, I caught wind of some chatter within the NWTF inner circle that today had not only sold out, but it marked the highest ticket sales for any day in the festival’s history. How much of that was because of Wormrot was anyone’s guess, but we’d find out soon enough.

Victoria, BC blackened thrash brigade Torrefy were already kicking things off by the time I got downstairs to Barboza. Having exactly zero knowledge and thus zero expectations for this set, I was pleasantly surprised. Their energetic stage antics and raw, unadulterated fury got a very early crowd up and moving already. Those of us who conveniently disappeared from our day jobs before 4 p.m. were not let down in the slightest.

Melissa Moore was back on stage at Neumos – this time with Crossspitter. Decisively anti-Christian and unapologetic about it, this outfit’s nerve-shredding death metal matched the energy that had already been unleashed downstairs. Moore is a beast of a musician with a ferocious (and versatile) set of pipes.

I made sure to get downstairs just before Agalloch’s John Haughm was gearing up for his solo set, and I was glad I did. This wasn’t a standard “one guy and his guitar” set by any means. When Haughm started playing, he synced up the performance with a continuous black-and-white movie playing on the wall behind him. It had a distinctly Old West flare about it, almost like it was something from a Wayfarer album. The whole thing went down splendidly.

Grabbing a beer with the NCS crew meant I’d miss The Keening’s somber cellar doom, which I heard was also a trimmed-down solo set. It’s just as well, though – I’ve seen that band several times in recent years, and I’d catch up with them at Fire in the Mountain this summer.

My top priority for the early evening sets was local noise rock/hardcore unit Turian. With a vibe that falls somewhere between Chat Pile, Helmet, and Jesus Lizard, their new single “Blood Quantum Blues” was my addiction throughout that week. (Guitarist Ryan Metztli-Moon would later tell me they hope to open one day for Chat Pile and almost did during their recent US tour.)

But, holy shit – watch out for Turian. With bombastic riffs, pounding rhythms, and just enough electronica to keep things that much more interesting, the kinetic quintet are posed for a breakout. Closing with “Blood Quantum Blues” was cathartic for everyone in the room.

I caught enough of Terrorizer LA’s set to get the gist of how World Downfall sounds all the way through. If there’s one thing NWTF gets right each year, it’s resurrecting deep-cut thrash bands from the ’80s and ’90s. They’ve done it remarkably well with bands like Forbidden and Cryptic Slaughter in years past, and this year’s lineup was no different.

Meanwhile, the vibe downstairs was abuzz with Panopticon’s Austin Lunn treating us to a solo acoustic performance before the full band set later tonight. For those who were there during his unforgettable closing performance around a campfire during Fire in the Mountains in 2022, this set may have carried some extra-special weight.

“I’ve never heard it so quiet down here before,” said Lunn to the entranced crowd after his first couple of songs. All it was missing, really, was an actual campfire. I could almost feel the flames on my face either way.

Back to the main stage we went, and Spectral Wound was already close to getting started. Or so it seemed.

After fifteen or so minutes of what appeared to be technical difficulties, the seminal Canadian overlords finally got up and running. “Aristocratic Suicidal Black Metal” was one I recognized, but it didn’t matter – and neither did the conspicuous delay in start times. Spectral Wound showed us they can still come to sever heads, even in the face of frustrating equipment challenges.

With Wound running past their set time, I only saw a song or two of Liminal Shroud back downstairs, and it was a shame I missed so much of it. The crowd was fully engaged when I got down there, and the band’s epic variety of black metal had been noticeably shaking the floor upstairs.

Fortunately for so many attendees tonight, Wormrot was next – and performing with the original lineup of Fitri, Rasyid, and Arif. That alone, I mused, was enough to get this many people in the place tonight. I remember seeing Andy Synn beforehand, and I said something like “The great thing about a 30-minute grind set is the band being able to play 20 or so songs.”

It wasn’t quite 20 on the setlist for the Singapore grind gods this evening, but none of that mattered. It was simply crazy to look at the stage and understand how this impenetrable wall of sound was being generated by just three dudes. The set was 30 minutes of the kind of pandemonium that metalheads dream about. Stagedives, pit gymnastics, crowd participation, and lord knows what the fuck else. From their unpredictable stop-start blasting to the unhinged vocal delivery, Wormrot’s set embodied everything anyone would ever want to see at NWTF. I hope this lineup stays together and keeps doing this forever. We’ll be here for it.

If I were in a band and playing this festival, the last place I’d want to be is playing my set directly after Wormrot wrecked the place. It didn’t seem to matter for local goth metal crew Dark Meditation. They released a pretty solid EP in March called Where the Darkness Bleeds, and I was immediately impressed by it. Their galloping, powerful brand of straight-up, no-bullshit heavy metal went down pretty nicely as a closing act for Barboza tonight.

As the night drew closer to the final curtain call, we’d first get the double headlining splendor of Panopticon and Agalloch. I’d say something like “it’s a Cascadian black metal doubleheader,” save for the fact that the former is from Minnesota. It’s weird to remember that sometimes, seeing that Washington and the Pacific Northwest have been so important to Austin Lunn. Hell, the very first time he played live, it was at the now-defunct Migration Fest in… I want to say Olympia? That feels like another lifetime ago by now, wherever it was.

To say Panopticon has evolved as a live band would be a very bold understatement. Lunn has added seven (!!) live performers since 2019, and there was no better example of how cohesive they all sounded than tonight. The band dug deep into their discography and belted out five songs from five different albums, finishing with the epic “The Blue Against the White.”

And at this point, it feels like Agalloch never left. With the dissolution of Khôradaand Pillorian some years back, you could say the writing was on the wall for the Oregonian black metal brigade to make a grand return – and a grand return it’s been.

“This is basically Agalloch’s ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine,’” said John Haughm after playing the first couple of songs in the set. The song he was referencing, of course, was “Limbs,” and I will never get tired of hearing this majestic piece of music being played in front of me.

These past two days were some of the best I’d ever had the privilege to experience at NWTF. The only question remaining: Would Saturday be able to hold up?

 

DAY 3: SATURDAY, MAY 10

I made it back to Capitol Hill at the stroke of 5 p.m., which was a “good news/bad news” outcome – the good news being that I’d finally be able to see Falls of Rauros play. The bad news was that I missed Paralysis Expletive at 4:30, a band with veteran members that was called in at the eleventh hour to play their first-ever show. They got roaring reviews from Joseph and a few others, so maybe this is the start of something awesome for the “newcomers”.

Falls of Rauros, meanwhile, put on the best 5 p.m. set of the entire weekend. Their atmospheric brand of melodic black metal had all eyes glued to them for 30 minutes. Maybe it helped that Neumos was also righteously packed for it being so early, but that was to be expected on a Saturday. By the time they walked off the stage, Fall of Rauros had set the bar higher than ever for the rest of the night.

Alone, I wandered down to Barboza out of curiosity for Kontusion’s set. I was immediately glad I did. Their knuckle-dragging death metal savagery sounded like it was plucked straight out of Tampa in 1992 and time-warped straight into 2025 Seattle. Earth-shaking riffs, swamp-creature vocals, and pit-friendly tempos all amounted to one of the strongest sets that the bowels of the building had seen yet. Keep an eye on Kontusion.

One of the most anticipated sets of this year was California’s Ripped to Shreds. This band’s maniacal brand of death metal felt like the kind of thing that had to be witnessed live, and dear god did that turn out to be the truth – and then some.

This was one of those sets that flew by as furiously as the music itself. Not only did Andrew Lee and his pack of extreme metal warlocks deliver a world-class ass-whooping, but they did it with aplomb. “Split Apart by Five Chariots” was a highlight of the day, as was Lee’s channeling of George Fischer by loudly bellowing “THIS SONG IS ABOUT GETTING YOUR DICK RIPPED OFF!”

By far, Ripped to Shreds was one of this weekend’s best moments.

On the way to watch Witching downstairs, I caught up with Dreadnought’s Kelly Schilling at their merch table. She told me this would be the first time the Philly crew in Witching have ever played the west coast, and after watching the set, I hoped it wouldn’t be the last. Their searing riffs and song structures – a sort of marriage of post-hardcore and black metal – went down beautifully and left more than one good impression. This also marked one of the first shows of both bands’ US tour together. Let’s hope we get some new Dreadnought music soon after.

Continuing the “witch” streak upstairs was the terrifying dissonance of Portland’s Witch Vomit. I didn’t catch very much of their set, as food was becoming a priority, but they were mercilessly steamrolling Neumos with their usual audial sledgehammer.

I kept my hunger at bay – at least for the moment – to see Persekutor play Barboza. God damn, this band is a hoot. From their theatrical eastern European accents to the addition of a whip-toting lady clad in skin-tight latex, it’s inexplicable why this band isn’t a bigger name by now. Beyond that, their music sounds like they took a Scorpions riff and stuffed it in one of Midnight’s black ski masks. It’s altogether retro yet traditional, and just plain fucking fun.

photo by Islander

In the interests of time, I had to basically inhale my slice of deluxe at Big Mario’s down the street – a place I have way too many hazy memories of – and get back in time to see Houkago Grind Time do whatever the hell they were doing downstairs.

Things I learned about them very quickly, transcribed directly from my notes at the time:

1. It’s just Ripped to Shreds’ Andrew Lee with a drum machine playing anime-themed grind
2. True to form, this man shreds life itself with a guitar
3. NWTF main man Joseph Schafer came out for… guest vocals?
4. An inflatable body pillow is a really fun addition to a mosh pit
5. A grind cover of Drowning Pool’s “Bodies” is the song we didn’t know we needed

With ear-to-ear grins, my friend and I darted up through the green room in time to see Brainoil kick off their set at Neumos. It has to be said here: This festival leaves no stone unturned when it comes to finding gems of the metal underground. And despite not having played a show in a while, and even longer since they released any new music, Brainoil’s performance instantly made me understand why they were invited.

photo by Islander

Sounding like a mix of Soundgarden and Eyehategod with the occasional blast beat, this power trio may have dubiously found themselves on a comeback trail. They had everyone on the floor engaged and curious, and developed quite the group of congratulatory fans at their merch booth afterwards. I was among them.

No matter how many times I see my Denver neighbors in Dreadnought, it’s always an amazing time. Being nearly virtuoso musicians with influences ranging from Rush to Emperor, this unit always finds a way to reinvent themselves with every release. Tonight would feature a lot of songs from 2022’s The Endless, and like I said before – I hope they come back from this tour with new music to unveil sometime soon.

The end of their set also marked the conclusion of NWTF sets this year at Barboza. I paused for a minute and realized that this day had blown my expectations out of the water. My expectations were high enough for the previous two days, and I’ll be the first to say they delivered mightily. But there was something so fun, so energetic, and so enjoyable about Saturday’s lineup this year. The energy was simply off the charts in any measurable sense.

Little did I know it at the time, but the only way to keep the energy going this hard would be the bonkers thrash metal party offered at Neumos by Hirax.

Crossover thrash in particular can be repetitive. There’s only so much DRI and Municipal Waste worship you can work into a sound. None of this applies to Hirax. Being around this long and not playing too often anymore, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

And just like so many other moments over the past 72 hours, my expectations were shattered on impact. Vocalist and rabble-rouser Katon de Pena has few equals behind the mic on stage, constantly amping up the crowd and reminiscing about how this show reminded him of “backyard parties they used to play 30 years ago.”

It was in this moment that the festival organizers behind the scenes would be continuing the yearly tradition of tossing inflatables into the pit. This continued the other yearly tradition of me getting a beer-soaked plastic shark falling on my head, and it simply wouldn’t be Terror Fest without that happening at least once.

Few bands would’ve wanted to even attempt following up what just happened, but festival closers Demolition Hammer were unfazed. Their legacy is just as long – if not longer – than Hirax’s, and their thrashy roots are a sonic similarity. The greybeards casually ripped into their set and promptly made everyone wonder why the hell they aren’t a household name.

With tracks like “Aborticide” and “.44 Caliber Brain Surgery,” it’s fair to wonder how much influence Hammer has over modern-day thrash without the rest of us mortals even realizing it. But if this set – in addition to their previous stint at this year’s Decibel Metal & Beer Festival in Philly – could be the road to a comeback that’s been 30 years in the making.

As they were wrapping up, I had one final drink and said my goodbyes to everyone I could find before tomorrow’s wrap-up party. After almost 10 years, Northwest Terror Fest has grown into a finely tuned machine, greased by the tar of the bowels of Hell itself. In all my years writing about music and finding myself entrenched within so many metal communities across this world, few have come even close to what I’ve found here. The people are incredible, the bands always bring their best, and the resulting experience is one I will always return to, no matter where life takes me.

Cheers to another brutally fantastic year, my friends.