Review & Photography by Nathan Vestal for MPM
The WC Social Club in West Chicago felt like a pressure cooker on March 20, 2025 — and I was right in the middle of it.
Attila headlined the night with all the reckless abandon and party-metal swagger you’d hope for, but what really made the show electric was how each band fed off the room’s wild energy. Butcher Babies stormed the stage with a fierce presence that had me grinning and headbanging in equal measure, while DED’s heavy, groove-laden set was impossible not to move to. Dealer hit like a freight train, their aggression leaving no room for breath, and the local talent — Nathan James and Thutch — brought a raw hunger that reminded me why smaller venues like this are magic. It wasn’t just a show — it was a rowdy, sweaty reminder of why we cram ourselves into loud rooms to lose our minds together.
Thutch
There’s something special about catching a band right as they start to level up — and on March 20th at WC Social Club in West Chicago, Thutch proved they’re ready for bigger stages. Opening for heavyweights Attila, Thutch delivered a set that was tight, chaotic, and bursting with energy.
From the second they hit the stage, it was clear Thutch came to make noise — not just sonically, but in terms of presence. Their sound is a nasty cocktail of deathcore aggression with grind and slam influences, but with surprising technical flourishes that kept things interesting. Frontman DED Ed roared and barked with relentless ferocity, but knew when to engage the crowd between songs, balancing brutality with approachability.
Sonically, they were loud but clear — credit to both the band and the venue’s sound team for dialing in the low-end punch without turning it to mud. By the time they finished, the crowd was fired up, sweaty, and fully primed for Attila. It’s not easy to hold the attention of a crowd that’s here for a bigger name, but Thutch had them moving and screaming right along.
If this set was any indicator, the band isn’t going to be “the opener” for long. They’ve got the chops, stage presence, and raw power — and people are starting to notice.
Nathan James
What started as a room full of eager fans quickly turned into a full-blown frenzy once Nathan James hit the stage. From the first note, it was clear that Nathan James wasn’t treating this like “just another opener slot.” The band’s presence was commanding, and their intense musicianship quickly grabbed everyone’s attention. With a blend of crushing breakdowns, slick guitar hooks, and melodic choruses that didn’t sacrifice heaviness, they delivered a set that felt both ferocious and polished. The crowd responded in kind — heads banged, and the front row was fully engaged.
Standout tracks included their latest single “Alienation” (which the crowd already knew by heart), and a particularly blistering closer that left everyone hyped and out of breath. Frontman Nathan James stretched his vocal range by switching effortlessly between harsh screams and clean hooks without missing a beat.
Between songs, James’ humble but confident banter hyped up both the local scene and the headliner, creating a sense of community rather than competition. By the time Dealer took the stage, the room was fully warmed up and ready to explode — thanks in large part to Nathan James’ relentless energy and well-crafted performance.
Dealer
Dealer hit the stage with immediate intensity, kicking off with crushing riffs and low-end punch that rattled the walls. Their signature blend of down-tuned chaos, groove-heavy breakdowns, and raw aggression landed perfectly with the packed crowd. Vocalist Aidan Ellaz was an absolute force — lethal, unrelenting, and with a stage presence that demanded attention. Every scream felt like a shot to the gut, and the clean parts (when they showed up) were tastefully minimal, letting the brutality speak for itself.
The crowd responded fast. By the second song, the pit was already swirling — fists, feet, and chaos flying. The highlight? “Pretty Stupid” hit like a sledgehammer, with one of the nastiest breakdowns of the night, sending the crowd into an absolute frenzy. You could feel people feeding off the energy and loving every violent second of it. During the breakdown of “Crooked”, Ellaz yelled out “ytou know what to do” and instantly, the floor turned into a war zone.
Dealer’s set felt tight and professional but still raw enough to feel dangerous — exactly how a band in this style should sound. No over-polished moments, no gimmicks — just straight-up, crushing metalcore with a street-level attitude. It’s rare to see an opening band nearly steal the show, but Dealer left a serious impression.
By the time the next band took over, the room was already sweaty, bruised, and ready for more chaos. Dealer’s set proved that they’re headliners in the making.
DED
By the time DED took the stage, it felt like the venue’s roof might come off. The growing crowd showed up for Attila’s brand of party-fueled chaos, but it was DED who shook the room to its core.
From the opening riff of “Rockstar”, it was clear DED wasn’t content to simply warm the stage — they were here to own it. The band’s sound was massive, with crunching guitar work and a rhythm section that felt like it was rattling the floorboards beneath my boots.
Frontman Joe Cotela was in command from the start. His vocals cut through the mix cleanly, moving from ferocious screams to melodic hooks with ease, and his stage presence had a natural confidence — never forced, always authentic. Between songs, he made a point of connecting with the crowd, leaning over the barricade, exchanging fist bumps, and hyping up the room with a sincerity that’s sometimes missing in opening sets.
The now packed in crowd responded immediately. Heads banged in unison as “Hate Me” and “Parasite” hit with undeniable force. During “Anti-Everything”, Cotela challenged the crowd to open up the floor, and the pit finally erupted — not the largest I’ve seen in the venue, but energetic and full of smiling faces, arms flailing and shoulders colliding in the best possible way.
As someone standing toward the side of the stage, I couldn’t help but be drawn into the energy. There was a moment — about halfway through “Until I Die” — where I found myself involuntarily nodding along, swept up in the sheer weight and precision of their performance.
Musically, DED was firing on all cylinders. Guitarist Alex Adamcik and bassist Kyle Koelsch played with razor-sharp focus, switching from bone-crushing riffs to dissonant textures without missing a beat. Drummer Matt Reinhard deserves special mention — his ferocity behind the kit drove the set forward like a freight train, with machine-gun double bass that never once lost clarity or punch.
One standout moment came with their performance of “Rope”, where the entire crowd seemed locked into one collective groove — fists raised, voices shouting back the chorus. By the time the last notes rang out, the band had clearly done more than just warm up the crowd; they’d converted anyone in the room who wasn’t already a fan.
What struck me most was how authentic it all felt. DED wasn’t putting on an act; they were simply a band on fire, relishing every second of the stage time and giving the crowd everything they had. DED had done their job — and then some. They left the stage to loud cheers and genuine appreciation, proving once again that they are one of the most exciting heavy bands in the scene right now.
Butcher Babies
The Los Angeles-based Butcher Babies hit the stage with something to prove — and delivered a set that was equal parts raw aggression, playful chaos, and polished musicianship.
The moment the band launched into “Backstreets of Tennessee”, the venue erupted. Vocalist Heidi Shepherd was a dynamic force — screaming with ferocity one moment and switching to melodic choruses the next without losing an ounce of energy. From my spot near the barricade, I could feel the bass reverberating in my chest as the first breakdown hit, and the entire front row leaned in, fists pumping.
Shepherd commands attention and captivates the audience with non-stop movement, headbanging, and bouncing across the stage. Drawing the crowd deeper into the experience, Shepherd called for the pit to open during “Spittin’ Teef”— and they instantly obliged. I found myself half tempted to jump in but opted to hold onto my camera and capture the moment instead, watching bodies collide and smiles flash in the swirl of motion.
Guitarist Henry Flury’s riffs cut sharp through the mix, backed by Devin Nickles’ thundering drums and Ricky Bonazza’s thick basslines that gave each song a bone-rattling foundation. The curated setlist included a blend of older fan favorites like “Monsters Ball” and newer material that shows the band evolving without losing their edge.
One standout moment came during their performance of “Last December”, which they dedicated to anyone who’s ever felt underestimated. It was a rallying cry, and the crowd responded with raised voices and fists in the air. As the band played the final notes of “Magnolia Blvd” (a song that never fails to light up the room), the band left the stage to roaring cheers and chants for more — a response they absolutely earned.
Butcher Babies brought high-octane energy, technical prowess, and a playful connection with the crowd that made them feel like co-headliners. If they’re on the bill, show up early, wear comfortable shoes, and get ready to move.
Attila
There are bands that play shows, and then there’s Attila, who turn every set into a full-blown riot. The Atlanta-based party-metal veterans proved once again that subtlety isn’t in their vocabulary — and that’s exactly what the crowd wanted.
From the moment the house lights dropped and the distorted intro for “Perdition” blasted through the speakers, the energy in the room went to another level. Fronzilla (Chris Fronzak) strutted on stage with the swagger of someone who knows they own the night. His presence was magnetic, part ringmaster, part rockstar, part unfiltered chaos conductor.
The pit exploded before the first verse ended — bodies flying, people two-stepping, and drinks spilling without a care. Kneeling in the photo pit, I could feel the floor shaking beneath me, and for a second, I wondered if the small club could actually contain this kind of force.
Attila’s setlist was a greatest-hits party playlist designed to wreck necks and push limits. “Middle Fingers Up” came early and the entire room had their hands in the air, shouting along with every profanity-laced line. Fronzak took breaks between songs to banter with the crowd in his signature blend of arrogance and humor.
The band’s performance was flawless. Chris Linck’s guitar work was razor-sharp, loaded with chug-heavy riffs and moments of unexpected technical flair that kept things interesting. The unrelenting rhythm section, comprised of Walter Adams and Kalan Blehm, along with Tyler Kruckmeyer’s powerful drumming, never let up. While Attila’s sound is all about over-the-top bravado, there’s no denying the precision behind the madness.
One of the night’s most memorable moments came during “Party with the Devil”. Yes, it’s ridiculous, but that’s the point. Crowd surfing and stage diving continued while the pit turned into what felt like a party-floor dance-off, with people moshing and laughing in equal measure.
But it wasn’t all party anthems and mosh madness. A noticeable shift in tone was heard and felt during “Cancelled” when Fronzak spoke briefly about resilience and not letting life break you down. The room listened – the crowd sang along with a surprising amount of emotion for a band that normally leans toward absurdity. It was a small but powerful reminder that, underneath the bravado, Attila knows exactly how to connect with their fans.
They closed out with “Proving Grounds”, as expected, and it felt like an explosion. Every insult, every ridiculous line was screamed back at the stage with total catharsis. The band left the stage dripping with sweat, the crowd left hoarse, and the venue — well, the venue survived. Barely.
Attila doesn’t just play shows — they host full-scale, unapologetic parties that dare you not to join in. It’s loud, it’s ridiculous, it’s borderline offensive, and it’s an absolute blast. If you’re not smiling and sore by the end of the night, you’re doing it wrong.
