Zakk Wylde & Black Label Society Deliver Riff Sermon At Boston’s MGM Music Hall (SHOW REVIEW/PHOTOS)

This past Saturday, April 4^th, Zakk Wylde’s Berserker faithful infiltrated Boston’s MGM Music Hall as if it were a Viking war party, turning the room into a pressure cooker of sweat, BLS T-shirts, and denim. This wasn’t just another stop on the circuit; it was a scorched-earth revival. Black Label Society was back, hauling their new slab of sonic filth, Engines of Demolition, and the weight of it was enough to shake the Green Monster and crack the pavement on Lansdowne Street.

After the BLS curtain dropped to the floor, Zakk Wylde stalked the stage like a bearded high priest of six-string riffs, a looming shadow behind his signature bullseye axes. He wasn’t just playing, he was exorcising demons. Whether he was ripping through a solo with the guitar behind his skull or letting out those trademark gravel-pit howls, Wylde proved he’s still the apex predator of the pantheon. 

The “Doom Crew” behind him is a well-oiled machine of destruction. Dario Lorina stood as the surgical strike to Zakk’s carpet-bombing, his sleek shredding cutting through the chaos with terrifying precision. Meanwhile, the rhythm section was busy focusing on rattling teeth and shaking souls. John “Goose” DeServio’s bass was a low-end earthquake, locking into the pocket with Jeff Fabb’s ballistic percussion. Fabb hits the skins like he’s trying to break them, ensuring every beat landed with the sickening thud of a sledgehammer to the chest.

The night ignited with the toll of “Funeral Bell,” a grim nod to the old guard before the band dragged us into the new era. “Name in Blood” followed, already feeling like a classic, neck-snapping anthem that had the pit churning early, while “A Love Unreal” brought that thick, doom-heavy groove that BLS fans crave. The crowd didn’t just accept the new material; they inhaled it, proving their engines are fueled by high-octane malice. The new tracks hit with a jagged, fresh intensity, balancing pure unadulterated brutality with a grim, melodic soul.

Mid-set, the band took us on a trip through Wylde’s haunting history. The transition from the pitch-black “Heart of Darkness” into the solo side of “No More Tears” was seamless and chilling. Hearing Zakk channel the ghost of his work with Ozzy brought a sense of grim legacy to the stage, a bridge between the metal of the past and the powerhouse he’s built today. The mood shifted from aggression to reverence when Zakk hit the keys for “In This River,” dedicated to the fallen brothers Dimebag and Vinnie Paul, where for a split second the room went cold and quiet until the crowd rose together in a somber, beer-soaked choir to sing along with Wylde. It was a brief, beautiful moment before the band decided to set the building on fire again.

The second half of the show was pure napalm. A non-stop assault of mammoth riffs and adrenaline, with “Hellride” and “Fire It Up” turning the floor into a violent, swirling vortex. The volume was punishing, yet every note felt intentional, like a serrated blade. Wylde and Lorina fed off the pit’s energy, pushing their gear to the breaking point in a series of blistering, high-speed solo trades. Then came the heavy hitter: “Ozzy’s Song.” The massive BLS banner was swapped for a new one, revealing three black-and-white portraits of the late Prince of Darkness, looming over the stage like a patron saint. It was a raw, heartfelt tribute – like a son honoring a father through song. To lighten the heavy atmosphere, Wylde and Lorina engaged in their traditional guitar duel, Zakk perched atop his piano and Dario on a riser, trading licks like heavy artillery fire while Goose and Fabb kept the engine idling in a smoldering groove.

They closed the night’s coffin with “Stillborn,” a final, thundering testament to their staying power. As the feedback hissed into the night and the house lights finally flickered on, the ringing in one’s ears was a badge of honor. Black Label Society’s fans didn’t just attend a concert; they survived it.