📍House Of Blues Dallas — Nov. 14, 2025
Written by: Clinton Camper
I knew the night was going to be unhinged the second the AUTONOMOUS DELIVERY ROBOT intro started rumbling through House of Blues. That mechanical heartbeat hit, the lights went blood-red, and the whole room shifted forward like we collectively forgot personal space existed. Grandson walked out grinning like he already knew he was about to wreck us, and he absolutely did.
“BURY YOU” came out swinging—loud, messy, perfect—and that was the moment I realized I wasn’t going to have a voice by the end of the night. The pit opened early, and by We Did It!!! the floor was already vibrating with people slamming into each other while he tossed in that chaotic “hero with a bullet in the neck” lyric change. It felt like he was pushing every single person in the room to match his level of feral energy.
“Oh No!!!” hit and the whole barricade started swaying like it was about to give up on society. Grandson kept talking between songs too—little rants, little jokes, a quick “Dallas, you’re sick as hell!”—and it made the show feel like a rally disguised as a concert. By the time he dropped into “BELLS OF WAR” and “Stigmata,” it felt like everyone had collectively decided we were going to sweat together for the rest of the night.
One of my favorite moments came during the Darkside jam session. They stretched it out, got weird with it, and the whole room fell into this trancey, head-down groove. It was the one time we caught our breath…and then he immediately ripped it away with Overdose and 6:00.
When he introduced SELF IMMOLATION—dedicating it to targeted communities and then throwing in that sarcastic greeting to the president—the crowd screamed like we were all sharing the same migraine. You could feel everyone tighten up, not out of discomfort, but because he tapped into that exact feeling all his fans show up to unpack.
“Masters of War” hit way harder live than I expected. It felt like a sermon delivered through distortion.
The emotional gut-punch of the night was Heather. House of Blues got weirdly quiet for a venue that had just spent an hour acting like it was trying to break its own foundation. It’s rare to see a room full of sweaty, adrenaline-drunk adults stop and breathe at the same time, but he did that.
But then…chaos returned.
Drones, YOU MADE ME THIS WAY, and Blood // Water blew the roof off. During Blood // Water a dude literally crowdsurfed past me upside down. Grandson was screaming into the mic while pointing at the surf-bro like he couldn’t believe it either. It was pure, stupid, beautiful anarchy.
We barely had time to process anything before he came back out for Stick Up. It felt like he had one last punch to throw, and we all happily let it hit us in the face. The entire floor moved like a single organism—sweaty, deranged, and having the best night imaginable.
Walking out of House of Blues, my shirt was glued to my back, my ears were ringing, and I realized I hadn’t stopped moving from the moment he stepped onstage. It wasn’t just a concert—it was a full-body, full-volume, emotionally reckless release. The kind of show that reminds you exactly why you go to live music in the first place.
Grandson didn’t just perform in Dallas.
He detonated.