Bottom line is Godsmack has delivered seven albums to date and haul around over 20 years in the biz; nonetheless, on that stage, the boys play their hearts out and do it with the joy of a kid at a candy store. And that's pretty fucking special.

The Steel Panther lads take their craft seriously; even if the act is of a jocular flair. It's rather impressive how this spoof outfit molded a niche within the industry and redefined how success in music is measured.

Showmen like no others, the gang of Five Finger Death Punch rolled into Atlanta to kick ass and take names -- musically that is. Performing to a packed Verizon Amphitheatre, Ivan Moody and his mates came, saw, and conquered the thousands on hand. A spectacle of humongous proportions, the night was lit up with raging tunes, a gigantic laser-beaming skull, dynamic strobes, and, of course, fucking fire.

Slayer has always been more than just music. Slayer is an inspiration, Slayer is an identity. The boys may have moved on from the live setting, but their tunes will keep heads banging for generations to come. And that's quite a fucking legacy.

Overall, the night ran smoothly and joyous. Both Weezer and Pixies are masters of their craft. As fans, the chance to observe these talented legends at work is concert-going at its finest. In the end, Weezer, Pixies, and Sleigh Bells all lived-up to the expectations -- and then obliterated them -- which sent their base home with ear-to-ear smiles.

Overall, the tunes are tight and the general vibe is groovy-contagious. Negrito is not only a virtuoso on that six-string Epiphone Masterbilt Zenith, but additionally carries a ton of energy and is light on his feet. Truth be told, this Grammy-winning maestro deserves to perform on the biggest stages across the country -- he is that good.

Overall, the Arctic Monkeys reinforced, once again, the notion of existing as a legitimate top-tier rock outfit. Their pageantry is riotous, yet tamed. Polished, though disorderly. Post punk, through the hints of pop. A show deserving of every penny on that ticket price, and a band worthy of your undivided fucking attention.

Ultimately, Enanitos Verdes and Hombres G have collectively aged like fine wines. Their nostalgic cruise through a joint discography best-of is an enticing, dance worthy, beer glass raising, sing at the top of your lungs, fun till you drop extravaganza.

A Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls affair is not for fragile ears, nor for space sensitive patrons. It’s a noisy, mosh-pit inducing, jump up-n-down but be nice to your neighbor sweaty shindig. There are only three rules when attending a Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls ceremony, 1.- Don’t be an asshole, 2.- Make sure your version of fun isn’t stopping other fans from having fun, and 3.- Have a fucking blast.