Every single metalhead from the past three or four decades seems to be in attendance, each one of them carrying two pint cups filled to the brim with beer. They’ve come because the air inside London’s O2 Arena crackles with a voltage that only exists when legends walk among us. Twenty-five years after they last stomped UK soil, Pantera has returned to claim their throne. With two core members intact and blessings from both Abbott brothers’ estates, they’ve got more legitimacy than plenty of other legacy acts still touring.
Let’s address the elephant in the room. This isn’t the Pantera that terrorized stages in the ’90s. It can’t be. The Abbott brothers are gone, their absence creating a void that should, by all accounts, make this endeavor impossible. But metal, like life, finds a way.
Phil Anselmo, his tattooed frame showing the mileage of decades in the trenches, commands the stage with the authority of a general returning to the battlefield. His voice, that distinctive, caustic howl, remains a force of nature, even if certain high notes have been strategically relocated to more hospitable vocal territories. Beside him, Rex Brown anchors the low end, his bass lines forming the backbone of Pantera’s signature groove.
Filling the cavernous spaces left by the departed are two metal institutions in their own right. Zakk Wylde attacks Dimebag’s riffs with reverence and his own unmistakable flair, while Charlie Benante powers the rhythmic assault with thunderous precision. They aren’t replacements—they’re torchbearers.
