At a time when backing tracks, programmed vocals and digitally polished performances have become increasingly common on major tours, Breaking Benjamin and Chevelle arrived at Toronto’s RBC Amphitheatre on September 9 with something that felt almost defiant: two completely live, unapologetically human rock shows.
There were no lead vocals hidden beneath layers of prerecorded assistance and no attempt to sand down the rough edges. Both bands performed 100 percent live, allowing every strained vocal, crushing guitar chord and thunderous drum hit to land exactly as it happened. The result was a night that felt heavier, more immediate and ultimately more powerful because of it.
Before the veteran headliners took over, rising artist Kami Kehoe opened the evening with a set that demonstrated why her name has been spreading so rapidly online. Viral success may have helped introduce Kehoe to a wider audience, but her performance in Toronto made it clear that she is far more than a fleeting social media discovery.
Opening with “PSYCHO,” Kehoe moved confidently through the dark, emotionally charged alternative rock of “SOMETHING IN THE WATER,” “UR GONE” and “FADE OUT.” Her songs balance vulnerability with aggression, pairing deeply personal lyrics with the kind of oversized hooks designed to survive well beyond a phone screen.
Kehoe also used the opportunity to showcase just how versatile she is as a musician. During “Kandy,” she stepped behind the drum kit and took over herself, transforming what could have been treated as a novelty moment into one of the early highlights of the evening. She returned to the drums again for “SLEEP WHEN IM DEAD,” proving that her ability behind the kit is an important part of her artistic identity rather than a rehearsed party trick.
By the time she closed with “DOPAMINE,” Kehoe had delivered an effective nine song introduction that connected her viral momentum with genuine musicianship. It was the kind of opening performance that suggested she may not remain near the bottom of festival posters and tour bills for much longer.
Starset followed by turning the amphitheatre into something resembling the set of a science fiction film. Dressed in futuristic costumes, the members appeared less like a traditional rock band and more like characters arriving from somewhere beyond Earth. Their theatrical presentation made the set feel one part hard rock concert and one part cinematic space epic.
The spectacle never completely overwhelmed the songs. “PARADOX” opened the performance before the band reached back for the muscular “Carnivore.” “Brave New World” and “Monster” sounded built for a venue of this scale, with Starset’s combination of electronic textures, metallic guitars and massive choruses giving the music a widescreen quality.
“SILOS” pushed the performance further into the band’s evolving mythology, while the unreleased “ANN1HLAT10N” offered Toronto an early glimpse of what may be coming next. Its inclusion between “SILOS” and “TokSik” gave the middle of the set an element of discovery that can be rare on carefully planned amphitheatre tours.
Starset concluded with “My Demons,” the song that remains the clearest distillation of the band’s appeal. It was dramatic, melodic and enormous, bringing their eight song science fiction production to a fitting close.
Chevelle required no elaborate narrative or futuristic costuming. The Illinois trio simply walked out and delivered one of the most forceful performances of the night.
Beginning with “Face to the Floor,” Chevelle immediately established the set’s blunt physicality. Pete Loeffler’s guitar tone cut through the amphitheatre with the density of industrial machinery, while the rhythm section gave every song a punishing sense of momentum.
The instrumental “Verruckt” allowed the musicianship to speak for itself before “An Evening With El Diablo” pulled the set back toward the band’s earlier catalogue. “Vitamin R (Leading Us Along),” “Joyride (Omen)” and “Jars” demonstrated how consistently Chevelle has been able to build memorable hooks without softening the weight of its music.
Most importantly, it was all being performed live.
Chevelle’s vocals, guitars and rhythms were happening in real time, without the artificial perfection that can make modern arena rock feel strangely distant. Pete Loeffler’s voice carried the natural wear and intensity of an actual performance, rising above the band’s grinding low end without sounding detached from it. That distinction matters. Chevelle’s music is built on tension, repetition and release, and those dynamics hit considerably harder when the audience can hear the band actively creating them.
“The Clincher” and “Forfeit” turned the second half of the performance into a showcase of economical heaviness. Chevelle has never needed excess to sound massive. A jagged riff, an uneasy bass line and a vocal pushed to the edge are usually enough.
“Send the Pain Below” briefly opened more melodic space before “The Red” delivered the band’s most recognizable eruption. Rather than saving their biggest song for the final note, Chevelle ended with “Mars Simula,” closing the set by looking forward instead of relying entirely on nostalgia.
Breaking Benjamin then took the stage with a catalogue capable of turning nearly every song into a mass singalong.
Rather than slowly building toward familiar territory, the band opened with “I Will Not Bow,” immediately releasing one of its biggest anthems. “Until the End” and “Evil Angel” followed, establishing a set that moved freely across Breaking Benjamin’s history instead of being confined to a single album cycle.
Frontman Benjamin Burnley remains the gravitational centre of the band. His voice can shift from a low, controlled delivery into a full throated roar, often within the same song. Like Chevelle before them, Breaking Benjamin performed completely live. Burnley’s vocals were not disguised beneath prerecorded lead tracks, and the band did not attempt to recreate its records with sterile precision.
That made songs including “Crawl,” “Red Cold River” and “Blow Me Away” feel alive rather than merely reproduced. The arrangements retained the density of the studio versions, but the imperfections and fluctuations of a real performance gave them considerably more weight.
“Follow” and “Angels Fall” maintained the early momentum before “You” brought a darker, more restrained shift in tone. “So Cold” then arrived with the slow burning menace that helped establish Breaking Benjamin as one of the defining bands of 2000s hard rock.
“Polyamorous,” the band’s breakthrough single, served as a reminder of just how long Burnley has occupied this space. More than two decades after Breaking Benjamin first emerged, its combination of grunge influenced melody, metallic guitars and emotionally direct songwriting continues to connect across generations.
The most vulnerable portion of the set came with “Dear Agony,” a song whose emotional exhaustion becomes even more exposed in a live setting. “Something Wicked” and “Breath” gradually rebuilt the intensity before “Awaken” represented the band’s current era without feeling disconnected from what came before it.
“Failure” and “Dance With the Devil” pushed the performance toward its inevitable conclusion. By then, Breaking Benjamin had already delivered 17 songs without leaning on an encore break to manufacture additional suspense.
There was only one logical way to end.
The opening notes of “The Diary of Jane” triggered the final release of the evening, closing an 18 song headlining performance with the song that remains Breaking Benjamin’s signature anthem. It was immediate, muscular and communal, the kind of conclusion that explains why the band continues to command amphitheatres long after many of its radio rock contemporaries have faded.
But the night’s most important takeaway extended beyond nostalgia or familiarity. Breaking Benjamin and Chevelle demonstrated the enduring power of bands willing to perform without a safety net. Both acts sounded heavy because actual musicians were creating that weight onstage, in the moment, with every note carrying the possibility of imperfection.
Combined with Kami Kehoe’s emerging talent and Starset’s cinematic ambition, the Toronto stop offered four distinct visions of modern hard rock. Yet it was the unvarnished live force of Chevelle and Breaking Benjamin that ultimately defined the evening.
In a genre built on volume, emotion and physical impact, authenticity remains the heaviest instrument of all.
Review by: Tyler Mitchell
Photo credit: Breaking Benjamin’s Facebook
