Four bands. One massive stage. Over 7,600 screaming fans. Charleston’s rock scene roared alive during the Awaken the Fallen Tour stop.
Opening the night with a genre-blending punch, Pittsburgh’s own Lakeview delivered a gritty 30-minute set that fused country swagger with hard rock grit—somewhere between modern Nashville and a steel-mill breakdown. Fronted by two lead vocalists and a full-bodied sound, they charged through tracks like “Dying Breed” and “Wrong Side of the Track,” building momentum that peaked with the anthemic “Son of A.” When they called on the crowd to “light them up,” the arena lit up in full—an impressive show of support for a Tuesday night opener. A Hinder cover of “Lips of an Angel” sealed their crossover appeal.
If Lakeview got the crowd moving, Wage War slammed the pedal through the floor. Hitting the stage at 6:35 PM, they unleashed a 40-minute sonic assault built on booming bass, snarling riffs, and one of the tightest double-bass drummers in the business. Their dynamic range was razor-sharp—shifting from double-time verses to half-time choruses with surgical control. Opening with “NAIL5” and following up with fan favorites like “Stitch” and “Godspeed,” the band delivered chaos with polish. Vocals seamlessly swung from melodic hooks in “Circle the Drain” to throat-tearing screams on “Manic,” all layered over heavy syncopation and thick backing vocals. The screeching Flying V added a cutting edge, giving their sound a unique blend of Nine Inch Nails, GWAR, and heavy-era Linkin Park with a hint of Hoobastank melody. By the time they closed with “Manic,” the pit was churning and the Coliseum was fully primed for what was to come.
At 7:45 PM, Breaking Benjamin took the stage with their signature kabuki curtain drop—and from that first jolt, the Charleston Coliseum was locked in. The band launched into “Failure” and “Until the End” with crunchy guitars, deep bass, and soaring harmonies that punched straight through the packed crowd. Ben Burnley, often known for his reserved presence, was visibly energized, his voice sounding as strong and hauntingly melodic as ever.
The stage setup matched the band’s depth—two-tiered with a drum riser and elevated walkways that gave the band room to move and engage from every angle. The fans responded in full force. From “Red Cold River” to “Breath,” the performance was equal parts emotionally raw and technically tight. “I Will Not Bow” turned the arena into a full-blown sing-along, with voices rising to match every lyric and every riff.
Burnley’s connection with the audience was both genuine and gracious. Near the end of the set, he paused and said, “We’re very grateful Staind asked us to come along. Until we meet again, Charleston”—a moment that hit just right before the band tore into their massive closer “The Diary of Jane.” It was a reminder of what Breaking Benjamin does best: combining the weight of emotion with the catharsis of rock done right. From fan favorites like “So Cold” and “Polyamorous” to deeper cuts like “Follow” and “Evil Angel,” their set was a masterclass in pacing, power, and presence.
After a full night of rising tension and sonic build-up, Staind’s long-awaited Charleston debut hit like a wave. Taking the stage at 9:30 PM, the band wasted no time diving into “Lowest in Me,” launching a 65-minute set that felt both deeply personal and punishingly powerful. This was more than a concert—it was a statement.
Aaron Lewis commanded the stage with haunting vocal precision, his voice cutting clean through the full, relentless force of the band behind him. Whether it was the reflective ache of “Epiphany” or the nostalgic edge of “Fade,” Lewis delivered every line like a scar laid bare. Lead guitarist Mike Mushok was a relentless presence—hair flying, fingers flying faster—turning every solo into a full-body assault. The aggressive, dialed-in rhythm section kept everything locked and thunderous, with a drummer who attacked every downbeat like it owed him money.
Visually, Staind didn’t hold back. A massive Videotron pulsed with light and motion, amplifying the emotion behind each track without overpowering it. The setlist was a perfect blend of eras—from radio staples like “Right Here” and “So Far Away” to heavier punches like “Raw” and “Not Again.” The crowd surged with every shift, but “So Far Away” felt like a true centerpiece—drawing the audience in with arms raised and voices echoing Lewis word for word.
And then came the encore. As the lights dimmed and the opening notes of “It’s Been Awhile” rang out, the Coliseum nearly cracked open. It was the moment—every phone in the air, every voice shouting back lyrics that clearly still cut deep. The emotional high then slammed into the raw fury of “Mudshovel,” a closer that rattled the seats and sent fans into a final frenzy.
