Wicked
Crafthouse Stage & Grill
Pittsburgh, Ohio
October 12th, 2025
By Drew Latshaw
Under the amber lights of the Crafthouse Stage & Grill, the kind of Sunday night that usually hums with small talk and domestic fatigue was turned on its head. Pittsburgh didn’t just get a concert, it got a resurrection. When WICKED took the stage, teased hair gleaming under the house lights and guitars slung low like battle flags, it was clear that this wasn’t nostalgia; this was reclamation.
From the first riff, the Rochester-born quartet Chad Michael (vocals/guitar), Scotty V (lead guitar), Danny (bass), and Gunnar (drums) made one thing undeniable: hair metal isn’t dead, it just needed the right band to remind it how to live again.
Their set opened with “Gorgeous,” a strutting, melodic sledgehammer that instantly grabbed the crowd by the collar. Danny’s bass thundered like a second heartbeat through the floorboards, and Scotty’s guitar solo twisted out of the monitors like a spark-throwing serpent. Chad’s voice equal parts grit and grace filled every corner of the room, a siren call to those who still believe that rock can save a soul for three and a half minutes at a time.
WICKED plays with the urgency of a band that knows exactly what they’re fighting for. The hair-sprayed swagger and leather-studded aesthetic might nod to the Sunset Strip era, but their intent is dead serious. Tracks from their latest album Sunburn particularly the searing title track and the heartfelt “Summer & Sun” prove that they aren’t just reviving a sound, they’re rebuilding it with emotional weight. Where the greats of the ’80s often reveled in excess, WICKED’s power lies in catharsis.
And then there’s the energy. My God, the energy. Each song felt like an electrical current looping from the stage to the pit and back again. There were fists in the air, heads thrown back, fans screaming every word and yet, beneath all the distortion and flash, there was a surprising purity. The kind of uplift you only get when four musicians are completely in sync, channeling chaos into something transcendent.
Danny, especially, was magnetic prowling the stage with his bass slung like a weapon, flashing a grin that made it impossible not to move with him. He played not just for the crowd but with them, reminding everyone why live music is still church for the brokenhearted and the hopeful alike.
Mid-set, Chad looked out into the packed room and said simply, “Rock isn’t something we remember, it’s something we live.” The roar that followed said everything.
By the time they closed with “Hellraiser,” sweat was pouring, voices were shot, and the Crafthouse floor was shaking under the stomp of hundreds of feet. WICKED didn’t just perform, they revived the communion between band and believer that made heavy metal so vital in the first place.
They walked off to cheers that felt more like gratitude than applause. Because in a world that’s grown cynical, WICKED gave us something rare: a reminder that rock can still be loud, heavy, defiant, and healing all at once.
If this performance is any indication, WICKED isn’t chasing the ghosts of glam, they’re dragging it, screaming and smiling, into the modern age. Pittsburgh didn’t just witness a show, we witnessed a revival!
