This time, with an extended set, Obituary doubled down on their signature formula—and that’s precisely their appeal. Fans flock for cavernous vocals, punishing drums, and morbid, sludgy riffs, and Obituary never misses the mark. Donald Tardy’s drumming swung between filthy, swamp-like grooves and bursts of pummeling speed, anchoring the chaos with brutal precision. Meanwhile, John Tardy’s vocals remained unmatched: his guttural roar isn’t just heavy—it’s grotesquely alive, like death itself rasping from a Floridian crypt.
The guitars were unrelenting, their crushing riffs and deranged solos steeped in the murky, oppressive atmosphere that defines old-school Death Metal. The crowd responded in kind—pits churned relentlessly*, and headbangers slammed with abandon, as if the walls themselves might collapse under the sonic onslaught. If there was one gripe, it was the absence of material from The End Complete, but that was a minor quibble in an otherwise devastating set.
Obituary doesn’t reinvent the wheel—they are the wheel, a living embodiment of Death Metal’s unholy essence. Paris devoured every second.
* Unfortunately, the night was marred by the disgraceful conduct of the security company, MARVEL Securité. Instead of safely assisting crowd surfers over the barrier, guards recklessly threw them back into the pit. Front-row fans endured kicks to the face, and fallen surfers were left vulnerable to trampling, all while guards berated the crowd. It was a dangerous, chaotic and utterly unprofessional display. To anyone outraged by this, reach out to MARVEL Securité and demand accountability: marvel-securite.com. Their behavior was a disgrace to live music culture.
