Metal, Hardcore, Indie, Rock
When you suddenly find yourself in a room full of middle-aged men in band tees, you know the night is going to go heavy. Corrosion of Conformity is one of those bands with a specific kind of pull: walking into The Dome for the London date of the “Good God | Baad Man” tour, I spotted faces I’d never seen on the circuit before — people out for the band that shaped them decades ago, and nothing else.
Most of the crowd were men — and eventually, fathers with their sons — which was a lovely scene to witness. I won’t pretend I didn’t feel a little out of place for a moment, but that feeling didn’t last long, largely because the room felt so welcoming, and because I was genuinely excited for the music to start.
Opening the night was Ritual King, a three-piece coming all the way down from Manchester, who have been steadily building a reputation on the UK/European circuit, touring with the likes of 1000Mods, The Obsessed, and Scorpion Child. Their latest album “The Infinite Mirror” is genuinely one to check out — and honestly, it was a big part of why I was eager to get inside.
Ritual King only had thirty minutes, and I’ll be honest — I was surprised by that. For a band built on heavy blues-drenched stoner and doom rock, thirty minutes is barely enough time to let the grooves settle. It was a puzzling choice with only two bands on the bill, but they absolutely delivered with the time they had.
The vibe was exactly right for the night: slow-burning, riff-driven, warm. The stoner energy and the lighting set the mood perfectly, and I genuinely loved every bit of their performance. There’s something natural about how they play—a looseness that makes you feel like they could already command a much bigger stage. The Dome crowd received them with open arms: loud cheers, enthusiastic applause, and more than a few people who clearly wished the set had been longer, including me.
Photo: Peterson Marti.
Once Ritual King cleared the stage, the atmosphere shifted from warm anticipation to claustrophobic excitement. The room filled in seconds. I was literally surrounded — people pressing in from every side as the lights dropped and Corrosion of Conformity walked onto the stage. Most dates on this tour had sold out, and The Dome was no different. There’s a specific electricity a sold-out show generates, something buzzing in the air before the first note even lands, and this had it in full.
They opened with “Asleep on the Killing Floor” — a dark, unhurried statement of intent. Frontman Pepper Keenan proved to be an absolute rockstar from the jump. There were some minor guitar issues as he first started to play, but he recovered quickly. What came through immediately was the full weight of a frontman who’s been doing this for decades — the charisma, the command, all of it still very much intact. Alongside him, the bass and guitar were an absolute force, delivering a crackling energy that anchored every single riff.
From there, the set moved through COC’s catalogue with the confidence of a band that knows exactly what it’s doing. “My Grain” and “Zippo” landed early and hit hard; “Who’s Got the Fire” and “Paranoid Opioid” reminded anyone who needed reminding why those songs are still treated like scripture in certain circles. At one point I could hear people shouting “legends — you are absolute legends!” The excitement was palpable, and the delivery was heavy and rough in exactly the right way.
The new material from “Good God | Baad Man” was woven throughout rather than bunched together, which was the right call.“Baad Man” — the title track — wasn’t the night’s highest peak, and honestly, that’s not a criticism so much as a reality: new tracks don’t always get the same reception as the songs that have had thirty years to sink into people’s bones. Still, the room was with them for every single minute of it.
“Vote With a Bullet” closed the main set, and the room knew what was coming next. When COC came back for the encore, they went straight for the throat:“Albatross”, then “Clean My Wounds”. Saving the most beloved songs for last was a masterstroke — the night ended at its absolute highest point, the whole crowd singing along, the weight of those riffs filling The Dome the way they were always meant to.
Photo: Peterson Marti.
