LOATHE TRANSFORMS THE HOLLYWOOD PALLADIUM INTO A WORLD OF THEIR OWN
On a cool, rainy Sunday in Hollywood, Loathe brought their A Stranger to You North American Tour to the Hollywood Palladium for a night of crushing sound, hypnotic lighting, and raw emotion.
After a relentless week of triple-digit temperatures across Southern California, the sudden arrival of cooler weather, rain, and a refreshing breeze felt like a much-needed reward. And what better way to spend a Sunday evening than inside the Hollywood Palladium with one of heavy music's most captivating acts?
On October 11, 2026, Loathe took over the iconic Hollywood venue in support of their new album, A Stranger to You. Joined by Prostitute and Fleshwater, the evening featured three bands with distinct sounds and energies, each building anticipation and setting the stage for a headlining performance that would prove as atmospheric and hypnotic as it was crushing.
First up, Prostitute took the stage beneath a wash of deep red lighting, reducing the band to haunting silhouettes against the darkness. The atmosphere was gritty, moody, and theatrical, amplified by the vocalist’s charismatic and flamboyant stage presence. Moving with deliberate intensity, the band drew the audience into a slow, hypnotic rhythm that encouraged swaying rather than chaos. It was a brooding, slow-burning performance that allowed the evening to build naturally before things took a decidedly more physical turn.
Up next was Fleshwater, and whatever calm remained quickly disappeared.
From the jump, the crowd erupted into a frenzy of pushing, shoving, and unrestrained energy. Circle pits opened across the floor, crowd surfers sailed overhead, and the Palladium transformed into a swirling sea of bodies fueled by youthful rebellion. Fleshwater gave the audience every reason to let loose, and they happily obliged. By the end of the set, the room was buzzing with anticipation.
And then came the moment everyone had been waiting for: Loathe.
As the band’s set began, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Frontman Kadeem France took the stage alone to introduce “Entrance,” the opening track from A Stranger to You. With themes of growth, perseverance, resilience, and personal rebirth, the song set the stage for the journey ahead.
The performance gradually transitioned into “Block of Flats,” a track that opens with a steady, hypnotic rhythm, almost like a siren’s call drawing you deeper into the water. Its alluring pace pulls listeners into a trance before suddenly erupting into something far more explosive. The shift is immediate and electrifying, transforming quiet anticipation into an irresistible urge to move.
The Palladium erupted into motion. Loathe’s sound was dark, thunderous, somber, and beautifully chaotic, shifting effortlessly between crushing heaviness and moments of raw vulnerability. Across the room, fans sang, jumped, cried, and moshed, each finding their own connection to the music. Not a foot stood still, not a hand hung at anyone’s side, and no one was mindlessly doomscrolling. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, was completely immersed in the moment.
Photographing Loathe, however, was another story.
The performance was a relentless assault of flashing lights, sudden plunges into complete darkness, and disorienting strobes that made anticipating the next shot a challenge. Throw in a steady stream of crowd surfers flying into the frame, and keeping up with the chaos became a test of timing, patience, and reflexes. I won't lie, I struggled at times, but I could handle it.
The lighting might as well have come with an epilepsy warning. One second, the stage was illuminated by an intense burst of light; the next, everything vanished into darkness. Capturing the performance meant constantly adjusting, anticipating those fleeting moments of visibility, and hoping everything aligned long enough to nail the shot.
Ironically, the very production that made photographing Loathe so difficult was also what made the performance so captivating. The dramatic shifts between light and darkness perfectly complemented the music, reflecting its constant push and pull between haunting vulnerability and explosive aggression. It was frustrating behind the lens at times, but absolutely mesmerizing to witness.
Looking out across the audience, I couldn't help but notice how many people had completely surrendered to the moment. They weren't necessarily watching the band. They were feeling the music, allowing themselves to get lost in it without needing to see every second of what was happening on stage. Eyes closed, heads tilted back, bodies moving instinctively. It was clear they weren't just listening to Loathe. They were experiencing something deeply personal.
After all, some of life's most beautiful things aren't meant to be seen. They're meant to be felt.
In a room filled with blinding lights, relentless movement, and deafening sound, those closed eyes somehow spoke louder than anything happening on stage. It reminded me that live music isn't always about what you see or even what you hear. Sometimes, it's about what you feel. And for those few moments, the Hollywood Palladium felt less like a concert venue and more like a place where everyone could lose themselves in the music and, perhaps, find a little piece of themselves along the way.
I’ll admit, I didn’t walk into the Hollywood Palladium as a longtime Loathe fan. My girlfriend had told me all about them, and I knew there was plenty of excitement surrounding the band. But experiencing that energy firsthand is different from hearing someone describe it. By the end of the night, I understood the hype.
Loathe didn’t need elaborate speeches or constant interaction to make the evening feel personal. The connection was already there, carried through the music. When the performance came to an end, the Palladium answered with cheers and shouts of “I love you guys!” And all kinds of praise, rightfully so.
They had put on one hell of a show. I walked in curious about the hype. I walked out understanding it and left as fan.
Loathe kicked ass.
