Live Review: Kreator - O2 Apollo, Manchester
28th March 2026
Support: Carcass, Exodus, Nails
Words: Dan Barnes
Photos: Rich Price
German Thrash legends, Kreator, have never short-changed their audience and have never shied away from touring with some of heavy music’s biggest and most prestigious names. I recall the show at Bradford’s Rios back in 2007, with Celtic Frost, Legion of the Damned and Watain; a decade later they came round with Sepultura, Soilwork and Aborted; and it was barely eighteen-month ago that they were at this very venue with Anthrax and Testament.
Great nights all, but there was something about tonight’s line-up that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to raise when I first saw what was coming this way. And with only three-shows on British soil, a Saturday night in Manchester was a no-brainer.
It’s an early start for ex-Terror guitarist, Todd Jones’ power violence / Grind outfit, Nails, with many people still queuing to get into the Apollo. The intro tape of Motörhead’s Speedfreak brings focus to the foggy stage, Todd, sometime live Power Trip and Skeletal Remains drummer, Carlos Cruz and Despise You bassist, Andrew Solis, pierce the darkness with the beginning of tonight’s most rambunctious set. It’s heavy and uncompromising from the outset, hitting the stage with Suffering Soul, Lacking the Ability to Process Empathy, and Conform. Chants of “Violence” introduce Violence is Forever, God’s Cold Hands and Wide Open Wound bring whiplashing riffs and a sense of musical chaos that will permeate the rest of the evening.
Todd recalls the band’s last visit to town, back at the 2024 Damnation Festival, and suggested they would return before the end of the year. He alludes to unspoken, Thrash related activities, of which he is forbidden to speak. Calls for the banging of heads comes with You Will Never Be One of Us and set closer, Unsilent Death is a raw, chugging frenzy of musical viciousness.
We all knew that Nails weren’t here to make up the numbers, rather here to show that a three-piece can be as nihilistic as any of the juggernauts following in their wake.
I was a little saddened, back in 2014, when I heard Rob Dukes had parted ways with Exodus as, in my humble opinion, his snarls and FAFO attitude always best suited the confrontational sound of the Bay Area legends. His return in 2025 – as well as Gary Holt’s focus being back on the band after the hiatus with Slayer – promised much and new album, Goliath, feels like a musical kick to the groin. Playing in front of a huge album-cover backdrop, featuring the titular character as a Lovecraftian creature, Exodus find a suitable balance between promoting their new product and giving a rabid Mancunian crowd what they came for.
Queen’s We Will Rock You acts as the intro, with new tune, 3111 starting the set proper. Dukes stalks the stage like a maniac in search of a victim, barking his lyrics in my preferred style. Eighties Thrash classic, Bonded by Blood is the first time the Apollo gets to try out its voice tonight, with the epic Deathamphetamine coming in thorough scratchy guitars. During a grooving Blacklist, Rob stums Gary’s strings as Mr Holt frets the chords while drinking. Title track, Goliath stomps and broods, all centred around Jack Gibson’s fat bass.
Mr Dukes pays homage to a vocal influence and all-round musical hero, in repeating Freddie Mercury’s famed call and response routine, before inviting us to A Lesson in Violence. There’s a Raining Blood intro fake-out before the band take us Toxic Waltzing, but not before Rob throws the proverbial cat amongst the pigeons by mentioning Manchester United – acting oblivious to its meaning before suggesting unity. “I just watch hockey” he states in defence. A ferocious Strike of the Beast ends with show with a wall of death induction to those, perhaps, unfamiliar with the works of Exodus. It’s not as earth-shaking as the Wacken wall captured on the Shovel Head Tour Machine footage, but it’s a theatre and not even eight o’clock.
The crew do a sterling job stripping out Exodus’ show and setting the stage for Carcass. The Liverpool legends are but spitting distance from home – though there’s no real love lost (no pun intended) between the Lancashire cities. The death and goregrind of old may be long gone, but the ferocity of their show is incomparable. The stage set is a more sterile-appearing environment, matching the clinical exactitude of the band’s musical output. Long-time drummer, Danny Wilding is absent, with the kit being manned by current Opeth sticksman, Waltteri Väyrynen, with little, if any preparation.
You’d hardly know it, as following the wall-to-wall Thin Lizzy and the intro tape of their own The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue, Carcass hit the Apollo stage as though they’re on a mission to snatch the night from under German noses. Unfit for Human Consumption is full of hooky moments and rampant riffs; Buried Dreams is the first of four stops at Heartwork tonight, proving that even though album number four is a more polished affair than the raw grind of the first couple, there is still a punch to be found across all tunes.
Crowd interaction is minimal, yet Jeff ensures those moving in the pit are kept hydrated when handing out bottles of water. Incarnated Solvent Abuse is greeted like an old friend; No Love Lost has that distinctive riff, and Death Certificate features those haunting fretboard runs, after Carcass tease with Tomorrow Belongs to Nobody’s intro. Torn Arteries’ chugging anachronistic Dance of Ixtab (Psychopomp & Circumstance March No. 1) takes the band into a more atmospheric mode, before the one-two of old numbers Genital Grinder and Exhume to Consume.
All that’s left is a hugely popular run-through of Necroticism: Descanting the Insalubrious’ utterly objectively clinical post-mortem description of Corporeal Jigsaw Quandary, ending with the earworm riffing that is Heartwork itself.
The crew waste no time dismantling Carcass’ show, putting up a huge curtain/ screen as they work. Run to the Hills has almost all the Apollo raising their voices; Barry McGuire’s 1965 civil rights protest song, Eve of Destruction plays with a history of violence depicted on the curtain, from Stone Age man, through antiquity, the French and US revolutions, the Troubles and up to what’s happening in the world to this very day, all thrown in stark imagery onto the screen as McGuire warns that one day there’ll be no turning back from such madness.
The video ends and the curtain drops, revealing the return of the Kreator, and a monumental stage set, featuring multiple statues, a Hellscape and face of the Devil himself, set high in the air. Long-time drummer, Ventor, is elevated high above the stage, between the horns of a different demonic creature; Mille, Sami and former Loudblast and DragonForce bassist, Frédéric Leclercq prowling around the underworld below.
Tonight’s show is a treat for both the ears and the eyes and seems custom-build for those of us who were around in the Eighties. Opener, Seven Serpents and Satanic Anarchy, both from this year’s Krushers of the World album, arrive early separated by the celtic-flavoured Hail to the Hordes and a confetti-producing Enemy of God. Pyrotechnic hit with a heat that reaches onto the balcony, torchbearers arrive as Hate Über Alles washes the stage in a Satanic crimson; People of the Lie grooves away, before Millie asks Manchester to act like it’s 1989 and go for full-on chaos due to live streaming during Betrayer.
This year’s Krushers of the World title track and its final tune, Loyal to the Grave, with its Maiden moments, which finds Mille without a guitar, but with what appears to be wings, sit comfortably with the rest of the Kreator catalogue, going back to Endless Pain’s youthful exuberance and raw aggression, and the monumental finale of Pleasure to Kill. I’ve always thought Gods of Violence’s Satan is Real rather twee on record but packs a melodic punch and courts a singalong in the live environment. Across the show there aremore flames and pyrotechnics that an average Rammstein set and I half-expected to find Greater Manchester Fire Service to be pitched up outside the Apollo, ready for a quick response.
Pleasure to Kill closed the show, Flag of Hate being conspicuous by its absence, but with more than forty years material to pick from, its obvious even a classic will be benched for the odd tour.
I went into the Apollo with high expectations and left mind-blown; from Nail’s Suffering Soul to Kreator’s conclusion, there was not a second of music tonight that didn’t captivate, enthral and kick-your-head-in all at the same time. Gun to my head, I’d have to say Carcass were my band of the night, but the margins were razor thin.
Photo Credits: Rich Price Photography
