Revocation – Show Me Your Goblin Tour
Venue: Hangar 1819, Greensboro, NC Date: May 27, 2025
Some nights hit harder than others.
Tuesday, May 27th, 2025. Cold rain hammered down on Greensboro, turning the parking lot of Hangar 1819 into a river of mud and soaked leather jackets. The kind of weather that makes you question your choices until the first note hits.
Inside, the air was electric with anticipation and sweat. The pit wasn’t moving yet, but it was coiling waiting for a spark. That spark came in the form of a delay, a joke, and then absolute chaos.
“Well folks, that was what we call the performing arts…”
Technical issues delayed Revocation’s set by about ten minutes. The monitors weren’t cooperating. Tension started to buzz like static in the room until frontman David Davidson stepped to the mic and, with that dry assassin’s wit, delivered:
“Well folks, that was what we call the performing arts. Good night…”
Then, without ceremony or apology, they detonated into "Diabolical Majesty." A moment that instantly transformed the cold, wet Tuesday into something sacred. Something feral.
Spiders, AI, and Marge Simpson?
You don’t go to a Revocation show just to hear complex riffs you go to watch controlled madness unfold. Davidson’s solos cut through the room like a laser through bone, but it was the between-song banter that made this show something special.
With the grin of someone who’s seen the internet’s darkest corners, David outed bassist Brett Bamberger for his questionable browser history.
“You guys ever Google weird stuff and find out your bandmate has a thing for Marge Simpson?”
Without missing a beat, Brett shouted from across the stage:
“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone!”
It was bizarre, hilarious, and weirdly human.
And between the laughs came songs that tore apart modern reality tracks about AI, digital doom, and Satan’s own schematics. This wasn’t just metal; it was a roadmap to annihilation.
Setlist of the Damned:
Diabolical Majesty
Godforsaken
Teratogenesis
That Which Consumes All Things
Communion
Confines of Infinity
Strange and Eternal
The Outer Ones
Every note hit like it was carved in obsidian. “Godforsaken” was a machine-driven hymn. “Communion” felt like a sermon from a corrupted priest. And by the time they closed with “The Outer Ones”, the room had shifted - less a venue and more a gateway.
Revocation didn’t just play a show in Greensboro—they conjured a storm inside the building to match the one outside. Tight, unrelenting, and full of weird little moments that reminded us metal isn’t just about precision, it's about personality. And yeah, maybe a little bit about Marge Simpson too.
No fluff. No encore is needed. Just eight tracks of unholy craft, seared into the brain like a sigil.
If you were there, soaked and shivering and screaming, you get it.
If you weren’t? I don’t know what to tell you. The outer ones came… and they left nothing behind.
