Photos and a review of Korn, Gojira, and Loathe in Ottawa

[This time, Laura Collins got the assignment. – AC]

Korn in Ottawa: 31 Years of Darkness, Fire, and Defiance

Ottawa’s arena pulsed with anticipation last night as Korn launched the first show of their Kanada Tour 2025, marking an astonishing 31 years since the band stormed into the nu metal scene. What unfolded was not simply a concert but a visceral journey through nostalgia, and the enduring power of a band that still refuses to soften with age.

The night began with Liverpool’s Loathe who wasted no time submerging the crowd in their dense, layered heaviness.

Their set was a storm front, guitars droned like engines, drums landed with seismic force, and vocals split the air with both rage and melody. For many, Loathe was a discovery, and by the end of their opening slot, cheers confirmed they had earned more than a few lifelong converts.

If Loathe cracked the ice, Gojira shattered it. The French quartet strode onstage to a wall of sound that only grew as their set unfolded.

Early technical issues threatened to derail them, but the band’s resilience shone through. Pyrotechnics lit the stage in furious bursts, bathing the arena in fire and smoke as frontman Joe Duplantier growled with volcanic intensity.

When they launched into their now-iconic Olympic anthem “Mea Culpa (Ah! Ça ira!),” the crowd erupted in unison, fists raised as Duplantier punctuated the performance with a defiant statement against fascism. It was a reminder that Gojira is not only musically colossal but politically unafraid.

And then, the stage belonged to Korn.

The opening bass thrum of “Blind” hit like a detonation, instantly transporting the crowd back to the raw ferocity of 1994.

Jonathan Davis, ever the enigmatic ringleader, prowled the stage with commanding presence—equal parts preacher, storyteller, and conductor of chaos. His vocals cut between guttural growls and tortured melodies, holding the audience captive as though every lyric carried a personal confession.

The setlist played like a time capsule cracked open, spilling both fury and familiarity. “Got the Life” unleashed a wave of cathartic movement across the arena floor, while “A.D.I.D.A.S” sent longtime fans into euphoric shouts.

Yet Korn avoided predictability: Davis’s bagpipes signaled the arrival of “Shoots and Ladders,” cleverly braided with Metallica’s “One,” drawing gasps of delight. Later, “Coming Undone” bled seamlessly into Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” a stadium anthem reimagined in Korn’s sinister cadence.

Visually, the show was nothing short of cinematic. The lasers erupted in sync with breakdowns, and the strobes painted the crowd in violent flashes of white..

The encore, a four-song arc, was a study in contrasts. The tender “4U” opened like a whispered secret, only to be swallowed by the dark gravity of “Falling Away from Me.”

By the time “Freak on a Leash” detonated as the finale, the arena was a storm of bodies, voices, and flashing lights, a culmination of three decades of catharsis.

There were subtler notes, too. Brian “Head” Welch, usually a frenetic force on guitar, seemed more restrained than in past tours. Whether a deliberate pacing choice or the weight of opening night, it added a curious tension to the performance, though never enough to dim the impact.

Korn’s Ottawa show was more than a victory lap—it was proof of endurance. Thirty-one years since their first steps, the band remains unflinching, theatrical, and unrelentingly heavy. For fans, it was a journey back to adolescence; for Korn, it was a reminder that their grip on the metal world is as strong as ever.