Live at The Powerstation
25 February 2025
Live Review by Music Journalist: Paul Marshall
Hatebreed in Auckland: A Hardcore Homecoming Eight Years in the Making
Auckland's air was thick with sweat and adrenaline long before Hatebreed even stepped on stage. The Connecticut-born five-piece had been promising to bring their punishing brand of metallic hardcore to New Zealand for years, only to be thwarted by the ill-fated 2016 Westfest cancellation. But tonight? Tonight, they made damn sure the wait was worth it.
Drenched in black from head to toe, frontman Jamey Jasta stormed onto the stage, his shirt emblazoned with a bold “24,” his presence commanding from the jump. With zero hesitation, the band detonated their set, unleashing a barrage of riffs that felt less like music and more like a declaration of war. Auckland was ready. The pit ignited instantly, a swirling mass of bodies, fists, and unrelenting energy.
Between songs, Jasta’s voice rang out over the fray, a mix of gratitude and pure fire. “Man, it’s good to see all your fucking faces! Thanks for coming out and supporting heavy metal, punk rock, hardcore—whatever you wanna call it. Thanks for believing in this shit, keeping the faith alive. We were supposed to be here in 2016 for Westfest, but that was doomed, Soundwave got canceled, and we haven’t seen ya since. So we are very happy to be here after all these years.”
And with that, the band cranked the intensity even higher, launching into To The Threshold—a sonic gut-punch that sent the already rabid crowd into a full-scale frenzy. Bodies collided, limbs flailed, and the energy surged like a violent tide. Hatebreed weren’t just playing a show; they were leading a movement, a revival of the raw, unfiltered aggression that defines their sound.
The setlist was a masterclass in controlled chaos, each song hitting like a hammer to the skull. Guitarists Wayne Lozinak and Frank Novinec laid down riffs thick with menace, while bassist Chris Beattie and drummer Matt Byrne formed a rhythm section that shook the venue to its foundation. Tracks like Destroy Everything and Live for This had the crowd screaming every word, a collective catharsis of rage and release.
By the time the final note rang out, Auckland had been left battered, bruised, and utterly victorious. Hatebreed came, they saw, and they conquered—eight years overdue, but more ferocious than ever. Some bands play shows. Hatebreed leads battles. And tonight? Auckland was their warzone.
Reviewer: Paul Marshall
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