Photos and Review by Max Stewart

“We’re probably the five happiest motherf**kers on Earth tonight.” Those words from Mastodon bassist and vocalist Troy Sanders summed up what was an unforgettable evening at a sold-out show at The Eastern in Atlanta. Thirty-seven days into their tour, Sanders made it abundantly clear there was nowhere else on the planet the band would rather be. Formed in Atlanta in 2000 by Sanders, drummer Brann Dailor, and guitarists Bill Kelliher and Brent Hinds, Mastodon have become the godfathers of Atlanta metal, helping put the city’s heavy music scene on the international map. Their roots run so deep that they even established their own recording studio, West End Sound, on Atlanta’s Westside, further investing in the local music community that helped launch their career. Reflecting on growing up just down the street, Sanders spoke with the kind of genuine hometown pride that simply can’t be manufactured. He thanked the audience for sticking with Mastodon through the difficult years and the release of their new record before declaring Atlanta “by far, the best crowd of the whole f**king tour.” For a band that has spent more than a quarter-century conquering stages around the world, that declaration carried some serious weight. The evening was especially emotional given that Hinds tragically lost his life in a motorcycle accident in August 2025, just a short distance from the venue. But while that loss was impossible to ignore, this wasn’t a night defined by sadness. Quite the opposite. Sanders, Dailor, and Kelliher seemed happier than I’ve ever seen them onstage. After everything they’ve endured, watching these guys smile, laugh, and genuinely enjoy playing music together felt like a victory in itself.

That joy was contagious, and it came through just as powerfully in the music. Opening with “Barbarians Blood” from their latest incredible album, Marrow Deep, Mastodon wasted little time digging into their extensive catalog with the punishing “March of the Fire Ants” and “Crystal Skull,” followed by “Black Tongue” and the Leviathan classic “Megalodon.” New material like “In the Ruins,” “Your Ghost Again,” and “Poisonous Weapons” sounded right at home alongside longtime favorites “Mother Puncher,” “Steambreather,” and “More Than I Could Chew.” New guitarist Nick Johnston has stepped into an almost impossible situation following Hinds, bringing his own remarkable technical abilities and style without attempting to replicate the irreplaceable personality of his predecessor. Keyboardist João Nogueira added another dimension to Mastodon’s already expansive sonic landscape, enriching the atmospheric and progressive elements that have always separated the group from its peers. But one of the night’s biggest treats came when John Baizley, frontman of fellow Georgia metal heavyweights Baroness, joined the band for the final seven songs. Beginning with “Snakes for Dinner,” Baizley helped power through a particularly impressive stretch of deep cuts and fan favorites, including “Curl of the Burl,” “Oblivion,” the sprawling “The Czar,” “Sultan’s Curse,” and “Colony of Birchmen,” before bringing the house down with iconic “Blood and Thunder.” Baizley’s appearance at The Eastern on October 22 wasn’t a one-night hometown surprise, but part of a deliberate effort to keep Brent’s vocal contributions and older Mastodon material alive as he has joined the band on the Poisonous Weapons tour. And given Baizley’s longstanding friendship with the band and their shared Georgia metal history, it was a no brainer.

For all the international acclaim, Grammy recognition, and countless miles on the road, Atlanta remains at the heart of Mastodon’s identity. “Atlanta has always been an incredible audience for us, and an incredible, incredible place to call home, where we’ve written all of our music,” Dailor reminded the audience at the end of the evening. He also mentioned living right down the street (and suggested we go check out his Halloween decorations), making the significance of the location even more personal. There was something beautifully full-circle about seeing this band pack a room in the city where its story began, surrounded by longtime fans, friends, and a community that helped build its reputation from sweaty clubs to some of the world’s biggest stages. Atlanta embraced Mastodon almost immediately, something Dailor recalled with a laugh: “Ever since our very first show at MJQ, it was packed out, and I was like, ‘Damn, that was fast!’ You know? Usually, you gotta lay some groundwork.” More than 25 years later, that same hometown love was on full display inside a sold-out Eastern. As Sanders put it: “It’s all because of Atlanta.”

The band’s performance was relentless, nearly two hours of crushing heaviness balanced with the kind of intricate musicianship that has made Mastodon one of the most important progressive metal acts of its generation. Yet what stood out to me the most was the smiles and excitement in the air. Dailor, Sanders, and Kelliher appeared to be having the time of their lives playing the new material and old favorites, and the enthusiasm of Johnston, Nogueira, and Baizley only added to the celebratory atmosphere. With the mighty Deafheaven and Alcest having delivered powerful opening performances, the evening felt like a genuine celebration of heavy music and the community surrounding it. There was an unmistakable sense of renewed purpose emanating from the stage. Keeping things lighthearted, the band even brought out their massive, one-eyed Cysquatch, created by Atlanta special effects artist Shane Morton, adding a little hometown mascot to an already epic night.

“Thinking to myself, Brent would have really fucking loved this,” Dailor told the audience at the end of the show. “We miss him dearly. And we’re gonna keep going for him. And we’re gonna keep going for you.” It was a heartbreaking but beautiful acknowledgment of a musician whose fingerprints are permanently embedded in Mastodon’s DNA. Whatever complexities surrounded Hinds’ departure from the group before his death, the music they created together remains extraordinary, and his legacy will forever be intertwined with the band’s history. But the most remarkable thing about this particular evening was how little the tragedy overshadowed the celebration. It was a night of gratitude, resilience, brotherhood, and ultimately joy.

“We’re Mastodon, we’re from down the street. I’ll see you guy at Kroger. Bye now but not forever,” Dailor said to cap off the night. And after everything this band has been through, there’s something incredibly special about seeing them carry on and sharing the music they love with the world. Atlanta is lucky to call them our own.