Concert Review: Staind (Coastal Credit Union Music Park)

BY MAUI CABRAL

Every once in a while, a tour lineup gets announced and you look at the poster thinking... There isn’t a single band I want to miss. This was one of those nights. Hinder. Hoobastank. Seether. Staind. Four bands connected to an era of rock music that, for a lot of us, was basically the soundtrack to growing up. These were songs we heard on the radio, burned onto CDs, loaded onto iPods, blasted through shitty car speakers, and probably put on more than a few questionable MySpace pages. Now, more than two decades later, thousands of people were packed into Coastal Credit Union Music Park to scream those same songs back at the people who created them. And somehow, I was standing there with a camera.

Hinder wasted absolutely no time taking Raleigh back to the 2000s. The Oklahoma rock band broke through in a massive way with their 2005 debut album Extreme Behavior. Their combination of post-grunge, hard rock, and unapologetic rock-star attitude fit perfectly into what was happening in rock at the time. And then, of course, came “Lips of an Angel.” You almost forget how enormous some songs were until you hear thousands of people singing them at the same time. That’s what made Hinder such a perfect way to start this lineup. It wasn’t simply, Hey, remember this song? It was realizing... Holy shit, everybody remembers this song. The crowd was already singing, drinking, laughing and settling into what felt like one giant celebration of an era. And we were only getting started.

Next came Hoobastank. Formed in Southern California, the band came up during that explosion of alternative rock in the late ’90s and early 2000s, eventually breaking into the mainstream with their self-titled album. But 2003’s The Reason changed everything. The title track became one of those rare rock songs that escaped the boundaries of rock radio completely. You didn’t have to be a Hoobastank fan. You didn’t even really have to be a rock fan. You knew “The Reason.” And hearing it live with an amphitheater full of people is a completely different experience. The second those familiar moments hit, everyone knew what was coming. Phones went up. People grabbed whoever they came with. And thousands of voices started singing. That’s the thing about music from this era. For a few minutes, you’re not thinking about how long ago the song came out. You’re right back wherever you were when you first heard it. And standing there photographing the people who actually created those songs is still such a surreal feeling for me. Two bands down. The sun disappearing. The crowd getting louder.

And now it was time for fuckin Seether. We made our way down to the pit. Camera gear ready. Photographers getting into position. That familiar anticipation right before the next band takes the stage. Except... Seether didn’t come out. Instead, the sky decided it wanted a spot on the fucking lineup. A serious thunderstorm started rolling over Coastal Credit Union Music Park. Lightning. Thunder. Rain. And just like that, everything stopped. What was supposed to be the beginning of Seether’s set turned into roughly a 45-minute weather delay. There’s something pretty awesome about waiting to photograph Seether while actual thunder is shaking the sky around you. For a while, none of us really knew what was going to happen. Would Seether still play? Would their set get shortened? Would Staind even get to finish the night? Outdoor shows always come with that possibility, but when you’re standing there watching the storm actually roll in, it becomes very real, very quickly. So we waited and waited.

Then finally... We got the word. Five minutes... Yet, less then minute later, the lights dimmed and Seether did their infamous soundcheck strum. These guys were READY to perform. The show was going on. There I was , standing in front of Seether for the second time. Shooting both film & digital stills of one of my favorite bands. See, Seether was the first show I ever shot on 35mm film. I was nervous, I knew I wanted to do it again. I took my trusty Leica with me this time around. Now this Leica has only ever seen New York Fashion week, in the beginning of the year. I haven’t used it much since. Cameras up! Let’s shoot Seether. AFTER THE STORM CAME SEETHER! Honestly, the delay almost made their entrance better. After nearly 45 minutes of uncertainty, the crowd was ready to explode. And Seether gave them exactly what they had been waiting for. Originally formed in South Africa, Seether became one of the defining hard-rock bands of the early 2000s after breaking internationally with Disclaimer. And Shaun Morgan has one of those voices you recognize almost immediately. That roughness. That darkness. That vulnerability underneath it. Songs like “Fine Again,” “Broken,” “Remedy,” “Fake It,” and “Rise Above This” became staples of rock radio, but hearing that material live reminds you why it lasted. There’s pain in Seether’s music. There’s anger. But there’s also something incredibly human underneath all of it. And coming immediately after the storm, the entire performance just felt different. The sky was still dark. Everything around the venue had that wet shine from the rain. The temperature had shifted. The crowd had been standing around wondering if they’d even get to see the band. Now Seether was finally standing in front of us. From a photography standpoint, those are the nights you remember. Everything doesn’t go perfectly. You adapt. You protect your gear. You wait. Then the second you’re allowed back into that pit... It’s time to work. And getting Seether through my viewfinder after all of that was absolutely worth the wait.

After everything we’d already experienced, there was still one band left. Staind. There’s something different about the way Staind’s music has aged. The Massachusetts band came out of the heavier alternative-metal world of the mid ’90s, eventually finding a sound that could be crushing one moment and incredibly vulnerable the next. That vulnerability became one of their greatest strengths. Aaron Lewis didn’t sound like someone performing sadness. He sounded like someone living through it. Then came Break the Cycle in 2001. And everything changed. “It’s Been Awhile.” “Outside.” “Fade.” Eventually songs like “So Far Away” continued that run. These weren’t just rock-radio hits. They became songs people attached pieces of their lives to. Relationships. Breakups. Depression. Anger. Regret. Growing up. And when thousands of people sing those words back more than twenty years later, you realize those songs still belong to them. This is where the night became especially surreal for me. I spend so much time concentrating when I’m in the pit. Settings, Light, Composition, Movement, Expressions. I’m constantly looking for that split second where everything comes together. But sometimes the photographer has to shut up for a second and let the fan realize what’s happening. I lowered my camera. Looked at the stage. And there was Aaron Lewis. I’m photographing Staind. It’s such a simple thought. But considering where this journey with a camera has taken me, those moments still hit hard. These are artists I’ve known through speakers for years. Now I’m standing feet away from them trying to capture something that represents what thousands of people farther behind me are feeling. That’s a privilege I’ll never treat like it’s normal.

Looking at the lineup afterward, that’s what really stands out. Hinder gave us the unapologetic mid-2000s hard-rock era. Hoobastank brought the alternative side and one of the biggest sing-alongs of that generation. Seether brought darkness, grit, and emotion and had to wait out an actual North Carolina thunderstorm before doing it. Then Staind closed the night with songs that still carry just as much emotional weight decades after they were written. The crazy part was looking around at the crowd. There were people who lived through this music when it was new. There were younger fans discovering it years later. Parents with their kids. Friends with their arms around each other. And when those choruses hit, age didn’t really matter. Everybody knew the fucking words. That’s when nostalgia becomes something more. It means the music survived.

I’ve photographed enough shows now that I could probably start treating this like just another night at work. I refuse to. Because there’s nothing normal about standing in a photo pit while thousands of people are behind you and an artist you grew up hearing is standing a few feet in front of your lens. There’s nothing normal about waiting through a thunderstorm with your camera gear wondering whether the show is even going to continue... only to stand in the photo pit and photograph Seether. And there’s definitely nothing normal about ending that same night photographing Staind. That’s the shit I want to remember. Not just the perfect photographs. The stories attached to them.

This night gave us a little bit of everything. Nostalgia. Massive singalongs. Four bands whose music helped define an era. A fucking thunderstorm. Forty-five minutes of uncertainty. And eventually... one hell of a rock show. Hinder and Hoobastank brought us back. Seether became the storm. And Staind reminded us why some songs never really leave you. Twenty-plus years later, these bands are still here. The fans are still here. The words are still being screamed back at the stage. And somehow, all these years after first hearing this music... I’m standing on the other side of the barricade photographing the people who made it. I’ll never stop being grateful for that. And after a night like this? It’s been awhile since a little rain was going to stop Raleigh anyway.

[message]

JOSH "MAUI" CABRAL

Hey! I'm Maui. Originally from Queens, New York, now making Raleigh, NC my new home. I'm a touring photographer and Nomadic Motorcycle Rider, obsessed with seeing the world through different lenses!

Read Maui's posts here