ZRockR Goes to Hell’s Heroes: Day Three

March 22, 2025 – Before you read this article, go ahead and acquire a massive hangover, a blistering sunburn, and twist your ankle a couple of times. Now you’re in the same spot that we were all in on the third and final day of Hell’s Heroes VII at White Oak Music Hall. It had been quite the weekend for everyone involved. Security had bruises that were covered in ice packs that had been taped to your body. My poor ginger ass was covered completely head to toe, and had a bandana wrapped around my neck to shield me from the sun, and most of the media team showed up an hour or so late because we’d all been up all night sorting through thousands of photos.

Before I get to the music of the day, it’s important that I give a shout out to all of the food trucks and vendors that were there that weekend. The whole thing was arranged by Houston’s Heavy Metal Market, a collection of sellers in the Houston area (and beyond) that specialize in shirts, patches, vinyls, tapes, wall flags, you name it, if it’s metal related, they’ve got it. Silk and Steel had a really cool display of dungeon synth and heavy metal related patches, tapes, and other merchandise. I had a conversation with them over the best way to make an alcoholic chocolate milk (I believe we settled on Bailey’s), a conversation that sparked when I gave them my Instagram handle. Pukin Hairballs Records showed up with an impressive collection of vinyl and CD’s. Punks With a Camera brought their politically powerful selection of shirts and prints to their booth. Featuring shirts with graphics that said things like “Nazi Lives Don’t Matter,” they brought a wildly popular stand of handmade art and clothes that was a hit with festival
goers.

The food vendors were really great. As a celiac, there weren’t many gluten free options for me, but that’s something I’ve come to expect. What I can say, though, is that the Frito Pie that Willow’s Smokehouse and Tavern was selling was phenomenal. If you ever find yourself in the area of Willow’s Smokehouse and Tavern, make sure you check them out.

But enough about vendors and food. It’s time to face the music, and day three was the big day for me.

Christian Larsen, the creator of the festival, opened the outside stage at open with his traditional heavy metal act, Night Cobra. Trench coat, shades, and a microphone stand in the shape of a cobra, Night Cobra’s songs set us down a fantastical adventure that would be the rest of the festival, and was followed by such groups as Overdose and White Magician. White Magician’s specialty was making some of the grooviest and funkiest doom metal I’ve ever heard. With an old-school kick similar to an original Black Sabbath, they jump started the inside stage, and gave the crowd a jolt of energy. Now, the problem here is that everyone was starting to feel the effects of moshing and running around for the past two days straight. Despite the palpable, rocking energy of the openers, it was apparent that something special was needed to raise some hell and rip a hole into the crowd… That’s where Hellripper comes into play.

Hellripper, the blackened one-man speed-thrash project from Scotland, shook the crowd out of their hangovers with a viscous accent and an even meaner attitude. To quote the man himself, “I don’t give a fuck if you’re tired, or if you’re hungover, when I say circle pit, you give me a circle pit!” The man got what he wanted. The movement was back in those sleep-deprived, dehydrated bodies as soon as “All Hail the Goat” lifted off from the set list, and the audience never went back down. It’s important to note that this was Hellripper’s first ever North American performance, so the excitement could not be understated.

Staying on the topic of celtic rock, Irish group, Primordial, threw on murky makeup and a hangman’s noose, and began singing like deranged prophets about the burning of Rome, and the hanging of a murderer. Primordial’s sound is heavy. I don’t mean that it makes you want to go crazy, or that it makes you want to thrash your homies, I mean that Primordial’s sound is like a boulder sitting on your chest. It drags you down into the depths of the muddy waters and never lets you go. Primordial is beastly, smokey, and primitive in a sense. It’s violent. Not in a spin-kick way, but in a way that smashes a battle-ax over your head.

And speaking of crushingly heavy music, Goatwhore returned to their debut album, “Eclipse of Ages Into Black,” and played almost the entirety of it. The band’s success had brought them new label collaborations, and new directions for them. Though their latest efforts have been extremely popular, it’s been a bit since they’ve beefed their setlist by playing older tunes for their older fans. There are some that even claim that the album is their best work – and with gravely vocals, and blasphemous lyrics, Goatwhore celebrated the album’s twenty-fifth anniversary by grinding out eleven of the fifteen songs from that release. For many of the pentagram-wearing fans in the crowd, it was the closest thing they’ll ever get to a religious experience, and I think they’re okay with that.

The sun started to set, and with the darkness came music just as dark and cold. It was time for my most anticipated set of the weekend. The legendary black-metal band, Samael played their entire album, “Ceremony of Opposites,” as part of an anniversary celebration. Samael has evolved into more industrial, electronic, and experimental spaces since “Ceremony of Opposites” came out in the nineties, but much like Abbath, Goatwhore, and so many others who had played before, they know their audience; And what we wanted to hear more than anything, was their older, nastier songs. Blackened aggression at its best, Ceremony of Opposites is one of the best black metal albums ever created. I’d put it at least in my top ten of favorites, and I could not have been happier with watching it all go down from the photo pit. It was one of the best sets of the festival.

Spectral Wound closed the inside stage, keeping with the nasty, blackened angst of the final day. They gave a flashy, angry performance with a nasty rock ‘n roll attitude that I’ve always admired about them. Bright eyes peering from dirty, smudged makeup is the image I can’t get from my head. I got a Spectral Wound shirt, and I wore it with glee the next day as I drove back home, and despite getting attacked by diving crowd surfers who poured over the barricade, they played a good chunk of my favorites. I left that set with a smile on my face as I came to terms with just how good we extreme metal fans had it. It was a good weekend for black metal fans. But of course, the festivities had to come to an end. It was inevitable.

Finishing the festival was the English classic rock group, Saxon, playing many classics and hits from both Wheels of Steel, and Denim & Leather. When I heard they were the big headliners of the fest, I wasn’t too sure how popular they’d be, or if they really deserved to be there. Larsen knows best. Always remember that. Saxon’s set was insane. There weren’t trash cans and violence and miscief, but oh boy was the audience loud and ready to party. Every song was screamed back at the band, and the band themselves did exceedingly well. Despite being a group of self-proclaimed “geezers,” their energy was unmatchable, and they went harder and played more enthusiastically than a good portion of the performers who’d played the days before. It was wonderful to hear “Princess of the Night,” “This Town Rocks,” and “Hell, Fire, and Damnation.” Saxon’s set was a perfect send-off

The weekend was a success. I didn’t need to ponder that at all. I met many new friends, and many talented contemporaries, such as Sam, James, and Giles from Street Teeth, Robb Zipp of the Robb Zipp Show, Stevie the Pink Wizard, GoatVsFish, Maurice from Knotfest, the house videographer, Dwayne, and so many more that I can’t name them all here. Despite the angry music and crazy outfits, the audience was lovely to myself and each other. The security guards were almost friends by the end, and one of the bartenders had my order memorized (a non-alcoholic ginger beer and a water bottle) and the hard working cooks at Willow’s Smokehouse made the only food I could eat all weekend with love. As a part time line cook, I could tell.

The festival was a successful gathering of fans young and old that won’t be forgotten anytime soon. I got the chance to get some tickets for my friends for next year’s festival, and while the general public won’t be given such an opportunity for a long while, the importance of supporting these indie-run festivals cannot be stressed enough. It’s up to us fans to support these kinds of events. I can promise you, it’s a hell of a lot better than other big-name metal fests, and it’s worth the travels. Ger your 2026 tickets as soon as they’re available. Hell’s Heroes is not to be missed.