The last time I saw Butcher Babies, it was Halloween night in San Francisco.
Heidi Shepherd and Carla Harvey came out dressed as men, full beards and all, and the whole thing was gloriously over the top. Loud, chaotic, theatrical, perfect for photos, and exactly the kind of night that reminds you why heavy music should never take itself too seriously.
I’ve always thought Butcher Babies were more interesting than they sometimes get credit for. They sit somewhere between scream-heavy modern metal and almost-pop songwriting. Big choruses. Massive hooks. Huge production. Songs built to kick the door in, then land the chorus like an 80s arena-rock band with better breakdowns.
It’s commercial. It’s polished. It’s completely over the top.
That’s why it works.
There’s this weird thing in heavy music where anything too fun, too produced, too hooky, or too theatrical gets treated like it needs to apologise for itself. I’ve never bought that. I grew up loving glam metal, hair metal, Sunset Strip excess, early 2000s hard rock, industrial pop-metal, and plenty of bands that understood the value of a chorus you can actually remember.
Sometimes I want riffs, drama, hooks, eyeliner, crowd work, and a frontperson who knows exactly what to do with a stage.
Butcher Babies know exactly what to do with a stage.
I met Carla Harvey once at the Golden Gods Awards and she was lovely. Cool as shit, which probably surprises nobody who has followed the band for any length of time. She’s been busy with Lords of Acid and her own project lately, but Heidi Shepherd remains an absolute force live.
That was the story of the night for me.
Heidi had the crowd in the palm of her hand from the start. She knows how to move, when to push, when to grin, when to scream, and how to make the whole room feel like part of the show. At one point she came out into the middle of a circle pit like it was the most natural place in the world to be. No fuss. No drama. Straight into it.
That stuff matters.
Plenty of heavy bands have good songs and still bore you to death live. Butcher Babies do not. They know the assignment: make it loud, make it memorable, make it feel like a show.
The new songs sounded strong too. Really strong. There’s something bigger, more melodic, and more confident happening there. The best way I can describe it is a metal version of 80s Heart. Massive hooks, huge vocals, enough gloss to catch the light, enough bite to draw blood.
That might sound mad on paper, but it made total sense in the room.
And look, Heidi is exactly where she belongs. She’s brilliant in this world. But if Simon Cowell ever decided to go fishing in the metal scene for his next pop star, Heidi Shepherd would be the most obvious answer in the history of obvious answers. She has the voice, the presence, the timing, the camera awareness, the crowd control, and that slightly dangerous charisma that keeps you watching even when you’re supposed to be checking your settings and doing your job.
Infected Rain co-headlined and brought a darker, heavier edge to the night. Their set hit hard and gave the bill a different kind of intensity. Big sound, sharp presence, and enough grit to balance out the brighter, hook-heavy side of Butcher Babies.
Black Spikes from Lithuania opened and are absolutely worth paying attention to as well. There’s nothing better than an opener that does not feel like filler, and they made the whole bill feel properly stacked.
I originally covered this show for The Vinyl District, but this is the version that belongs here: less formal review, more personal confession.
I still love this stuff.
I still love bands that go big. I still love metal that understands the power of a stupidly massive chorus. I still love a show that feels a bit theatrical without turning into a joke. Not everything needs to be tasteful. Not everything needs to be subtle. Sometimes the best thing a band can do is hit the stage, turn the drama all the way up, and remind you that heavy music is allowed to be fun.
Butcher Babies do that.
And honestly, I’m here for every gloriously overproduced second of it.
