There’s something about watching legends stomp across the dirt of a venue better known for chocolate and rollercoasters that just hits different. Hersheypark Stadium transformed into a battlefield Friday night as Pantera’s “Heaviest Tour of the Summer” touched down with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the gut. If you came for nostalgia, you left with bruises. If you came to mourn, to rage, to scream something primal into the humid Pennsylvania air—you found your people.
Shock Narcotic opened with pure chaos. A band that’s less about easing the crowd in and more about flinging the doors off their hinges. It was a short, sharp burst of grindcore and distortion-heavy filth that served one purpose: wake the hell up. No polish, no theatrics, just gut-punching noise that dared anyone to look away. And nobody did.
Then came Amon Amarth, and the mood shifted. Suddenly we were on Viking soil—massive, mythic, and cinematic in scale, even without the usual fire and stage spectacles. The Swedish death metal icons didn’t need pyro to command attention. Johan Hegg’s guttural growl echoed through the stadium as horns clashed and fists pounded the air in unison. “Guardians of Asgaard,” “Put Your Back Into the Oar,” and “Twilight of the Thunder God” felt like war chants echoing across a sea of raised horns. Hershey was ready to row.
But then—Pantera.
Even if it’s technically not a reunion, this lineup channels something sacred. And when the lights dropped, and those first notes of “Hellbound” detonated through the stadium, it wasn’t just a concert anymore. It was communion.
Zakk Wylde’s guitar tone sliced through the air like a chainsaw wrapped in barbed wire. Charlie Benante hit the kit with precision and reverence, each strike a nod to the legacy of Vinnie Paul. And at the heart of it all, Rex Brown and Phil Anselmo—weathered, defiant, powerful. Phil’s voice has aged into something coarse and haunting, and he wore every scar like a badge.
The setlist was a monument:
“Walk,” “Mouth for War,” “Fucking Hostile,” “Becoming,” “Strength Beyond Strength.”
Every song felt like opening a time capsule and finding it still breathing, still angry.
By the time “Cowboys from Hell” hit, the entire stadium had become one pulsating organism—screaming, slamming, crying, healing. There are shows that entertain. There are shows that exhaust. And then there are shows that cleanse.
Pantera gave Hershey the kind of night that doesn’t fade when the amps go quiet.
Pantera Tour
