BELL TOLLS FOR THEE: Burton C. Bell Fucking Demolishes Melbourne. Words by Mark Jenkins, Awesome photos by Dan McKay.
BELL TOLLS FOR THEE: Burton C. Bell Fucking Demolishes Melbourne. Words by Mark Jenkins, Awesome photos by Dan McKay.
Burton C. Bell/ The Last Martyr
Corner Hotel, Richmond
June 14, 2025
Listen up, metalheads - sometimes the universe aligns just right to deliver a night that'll leave your ears bleeding and your soul satisfied. Last night was one of those nights, and Burton C. Bell just reminded everyone why he's the goddamn architect of industrial metal's most crushing moments.
Support: The Last Martyr - Energetic Mismatch or Generational Bridge?
Let's talk about The Last Martyr - these guys came out swinging with a high-energy blend of metalcore, nu-metal, and electronic elements that was polished, tight, and undeniably catchy. They're genuinely good at what they do, bringing that poppy metalcore energy with real conviction and skill. Excellent tunes with a definitive cyber disco metal style. The fact is, pairing them with Bell created a fascinating contrast.
The Main Event: Bell's Industrial Baptism
What followed was nothing short of a masterclass in how to take 30+ years of sonic evolution and weave it into something that felt both nostalgic and absolutely vital. This wasn't some greatest hits cash grab - this was a statement of intent from a man who's spent decades perfecting the art of mechanical brutality.
The Setlist: A Journey Through Industrial Hell
Bell took us on a goddamn odyssey through his catalogue that would make Dante weep, and the flow was absolutely perfect:
Opening Assault: Anti-Droid came crushing down like industrial judgment day, immediately followed by the one-two punch of Dog Day Sunrise (the Head of David cover that Fear Factory made legendary) and Drive Boy, Shooting (one of the best tracks tonight) from his G//Z/R days. This opening trinity set the tone - we weren't getting a predictable greatest hits parade.
The Deep Dive: New song Technical Exorcism and Hanya (City of Fire) pulled us into Bell's more atmospheric territory, proving he's always been about crafting moody, meditative brutality that exists somewhere between zen and annihilation.
Fear Factory's Industrial Gospel: Descent hit like a religious experience, reminding everyone why Bell's voice became the template for industrial metal. The placement was genius - building tension before the real emotional gut-punch.
The Curveball: Ghost Heart from Ascension of the Watchers provided a haunting, almost spiritual intermission that showcased Bell's incredible range. Just when you thought you had the night figured out, he shifted gears completely.
Rammstein Respect: Du hast was pure fan service done right - Bell showing love for the broader industrial family while proving his voice can make any song his own.
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The Crushing Middle: Scumgrief brought us back to Fear Factory territory with mechanical precision, leading perfectly into his new solo tracks Savages and Cold Lazarus - promises of industrial salvation yet to come that hit like sledgehammers.
The Finale Devastation: Ending with Replica and Scapegoat was pure genius. Two Fear Factory anthems that sent the crowd into absolute frenzy, Bell's voice as commanding and devastating as it was in the '90s. These songs don't just close a show - they consecrate it.
The Performance: Master Class in Controlled Chaos
Here's what separates legends from wannabes - Bell's voice. That instrument hasn't lost a single ounce of its power. His growls still sound like machinery grinding against your soul, while his clean vocals soar with the kind of emotional weight that makes you believe in redemption through industrial catharsis. The man's pipes are still pure fucking magic.
Bell worked the crowd like a preacher of mechanical gospel, and the setlist flow was masterful - building tension, providing emotional release, throwing curveballs, and delivering crushing payoffs. Around Scumgrief, he grinned and declared, "I'm taking you all over the place tonight! Who was here for my first tour? I'm taking you back to 1992!" The man knows how to read a room and take people on a journey.
His band? Tight as a vice grip, transitioning seamlessly between Fear Factory's mechanical aggression and the more expansive textures of his other projects. No weak links, no ego trips - just professional brutality in service of the songs.
The Venue: Intimacy Amplifies Intensity
Corner Hotel's intimate confines turned every growl into a personal confession, every crushing riff into a shared sacrament. The crowd - a beautiful mix of grizzled Fear Factory veterans and fresh-faced industrial pilgrims - responded to everything with the kind of enthusiasm that reminds you why live music matters.
Post-Show: The Real MVP Moment
No rushed photos, no fake pleasantries. Just genuine conversations with people who've been shaped by his music. In an era of manufactured rock star bullshit, watching Bell give real time and attention to his fans was honestly more moving than the show itself. The man's as down-to-earth as they come, treating every interaction like it mattered. Because it fucking does.
Final Verdict: Industrial Royalty Reclaims the Throne
Burton C. Bell didn't just play a show - he delivered a sermon on what industrial metal can be when it's crafted by someone who actually understands its spiritual weight. This was history made manifest, legacy validated, and future possibilities unleashed all in one brutal, beautiful package.
For anyone who thinks industrial metal peaked in the '90s, last night was your wake-up call. Bell's still got more crushing riffs and existential weight in his little finger than most bands manage in entire careers.
Rating: Essential viewing for anyone who believes heavy music can change your fucking life.
Now go listen to Anti-Droid or any of the new singles and prepare for whatever Bell unleashes next. Trust me, it's going to be worth the wait.

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