Oklahoma City, OK 09/13/2025
Photos By : Adam Tracy Blog Post By : London Tracy
First trip to Oklahoma City, and what better reason than to see a bunch of emo-coded metal bands who’ve apparently discovered astrology and synths. On the way, we rolled through some place called Norman. Ever been there? It’s like someone built a city using a “copy-paste” glitch — shiny developments everywhere, but no humans. Creepy. Felt like I was about to get chased by Stepford Wives with HOA bylaws in hand.
We shook that off and made it to the Diamond Ballroom, which greets you with the most on-brand dive bar ever: Little Dicks Dive. Chef’s kiss. The venue itself? Looks like your standard cowboy-boot-and-bud-light watering hole from the outside, but inside? Absolute monster. Free parking (Oklahoma flex), three bars (hydration is key), two dance floors (because why the hell not), a rogue pizza vendor, and a stage big enough to host a demolition derby.
And the staff? An entire security squadron patrolling the floor like it was the Pentagon — but in the nicest way possible. I’ve never felt so simultaneously babysat and loved.
Now, the show didn’t go off without a hiccup. Adam got stuck at the box office, waiting behind ropes for a photo pass — but only for every band except The Plot In You. Love a good mix-up. Meanwhile, I breezed past without the camera bag and got to enjoy the chaos up close. In the end, big thanks to whoever let us shoot The Plot In You — honestly, that salvaged the night.
When I say I was ecstatic to see Windwaker, I mean ecstatic. I was fully pumped, elbows out, politely-but-not-really shoving myself through the sea of bodies just to get closer. Honestly, it was less “finding my spot at a concert” and more “competing in a low-stakes WWE Royal Rumble.” Worth it though.
And let’s be real — you don’t even need to buy anything at shows like this, you can practically get a contact high just from wading through the crowd. The mix of sweat, beer, and whatever was being vaped in the corner? Intoxicating. Not complaining, though — that’s basically the perfume of the alt scene.
What really surprised me was just how massive the alt community is around here. Everywhere I looked, there were different styles colliding — kids in band tees, people in patched-up denim jackets, someone dressed like they got lost on the way to Hot Topic circa 2007, and a few folks who probably wandered in from a totally different genre and just stayed. I loved it. It felt like a weird, messy family reunion where everyone happens to scream lyrics instead of making small talk.
Then the room goes dark. Blackout. The low rumble of music kicks in, and suddenly — boom — the Windwaker crew storms the stage. They waste zero time and jump straight into “SIRENS.” Let me tell you: opening with that track? Bold move. And genius. Because it’s a masterpiece. That song has been lodged in my brain all week like an earworm on steroids. Non-stop replay. And hearing it live? Forget it. I straight-up fangirled, screaming every lyric like I was auditioning for the band’s next tour.
Vocalist Liam Guinane didn’t just sing — he danced. His moves during “Apathy” were… how do I put this? Picture your dad dancing at a barbecue after two beers. Now imagine it somehow works. That’s the energy. Weirdly wholesome, weirdly perfect, and weirdly effective.
The whole set was stacked. The crowd kept getting louder, sweatier, and closer until it felt like we were all breathing the same recycled oxygen. By the time they closed with “Tabula Rasa,” the place was unhinged. That track live is pure chaos in the best way — it hit so hard, people around me were headbanging like they’d just remembered student loans exist.
These Aussies know how to lure in a crowd. I swear, the second they walked off stage, you could feel the collective “wait, already?” Nobody wanted it to end. Cramped? Absolutely. Worth it? A thousand percent.
Invent Animate. What an interesting band. They walk onstage draped in this soft, all-white aesthetic, almost glowing under the lights like some kind of ethereal beings. For a split second, you’d think angels just descended into a metal show. Then — bam — they hit you with crushing riffs and vocals sharp enough to cut glass. Any illusion of heavenly serenity? Obliterated.
There’s something primal about their effect on a crowd. It’s not just music, it’s surrender. The sound slams into you in waves, and before you know it, you’re less of a person and more of an animal following instinct. Marcus Vik’s vocals drive it all — one moment melodic, the next full-throttle screams that shake you to the core. And the way the crowd responded? Pure chaos in the best way.
When he asked for hands in the air, the place turned into a field of human wind turbines. When he wanted cell phone lights, the venue instantly looked like an emo version of a Coldplay concert. And crowd surfers? Oh, there were crowd surfers. It was basically Simon Says on steroids, except the prize was sore muscles and possibly a concussion. Weirdest game I’ve ever played, but also one of the best.
The set itself was a ride. Crunchy, guttural vocals layered with melodic, atmospheric guitar work — it was like beauty and brutality went on a date and decided to never break up. The whole performance was immersive, transformative, and honestly unforgettable. Invent Animate isn’t just a “cool band” — they’re the kind that hijacks your senses and leaves you wondering if you just saw a concert or survived a ritual.
So, Northlane. Let me just say — they were… something else. Imagine rap, EDM, and metal all got together for a wild collaboration, and the result was a neon-glowstick-fueled demon baby. That’s Northlane. And honestly? It was kind of amazing in its own chaotic way.
The whole aesthetic was dialed in: flashing neon lights, futuristic vibes, those over-the-top emoticon goggles, and a synthesizer tossed in for extra flair. It felt like a rave, a rock show, and maybe a sci-fi convention all rolled into one. Marcus Bridge’s vocals? Absolutely killer. The guy has pipes, no doubt about it. The drums and guitar? Same story — flawless. On a technical level, they’re rock-solid.
That said, the concept was… bold. With the insane strobes and blinding neon, half the time I felt like I was squinting into the sun. And those emoticon goggles? Adorable and cyberpunk-cosplay-cool, but a little hard to match with the sound.
If you’re going to lean that heavily into the techno-rave look, a few extra electronic layers might tie everything together. But even when things felt a little “wait, what?”, I couldn’t help but be impressed. The vocals were insane, the drums hit hard, and the guitar work shredded. They’re clearly talented and having a blast — and honestly, watching that chaos unfold was a thrill.
Finally, Adam gets a pass to get in — hats off to the Diamond Ballroom for making that happen. We sprint (okay, brisk-walk) to the side stage, and sweet, sweet victory: photo passes in hand. Night officially saved.
As The Plot In You hits the stage, a red glow spills across the venue. In the background, an old-timey radio is flipping channels, and suddenly — a weather alert blares. Thunder crashes. Lightning strikes. The radio dies mid-emergency alert. Dramatic much? Oh, you bet. Drums kick in, the band bursts onstage, and the show opens with “Spare Me.” Then we’re lulled into “Divide,” and just like that, the room is theirs.
This band is one of those rare acts that anyone can get into. Melodic, memorable lyrics, and a sound that somehow appeals to everyone. And speaking of everyone — I was right when I said this crowd was diverse. I’m talking cowboys in flannel right next to goth baddies in full-on black armor. It’s wild to see music literally bring so many different people together — like some magical, sweaty unifier.
By about the fourth song, vocalist Landon Tewers decides it’s time for all the crowd surfing virgins to, well… surf. And surf they did. A wave of humans flailed across the venue like a zombie apocalypse scene where all the zombies somehow synchronized their push against a wall. It was terrifying. It was beautiful. And somehow, miraculously, nobody ended up onstage in one terrifying pile.
Then came one of the more ethereal moments: “Time Changes Everything.” All the lights went out. Stars projected across the walls and ceiling. Suddenly, we weren’t at a sweaty concert venue — we were somewhere else entirely. Space? A dream? Hard to say, but it was magical.
And of course, the night ended on “Feel Nothing,” one of my current favorites. Landon and the crowd screamed every lyric with feeling, and honestly, I felt it all — the catharsis, the intensity, the beautiful chaos of it.
This night was incredible, intense, occasionally frustrating (thank you, photo logistics), but ultimately unforgettable. Great lineup, stellar performances, and a venue that somehow managed to make everything feel epic. The Plot In You didn’t just play a show — they made the entire room their world for a few hours.
MID SOUTH 