Pittsburghers Defy the Heat for a Night of Pride, Punk, and Metal at “Pride in the Pit”

Under a thick blanket of humidity and scorching 95+ degree heat, the Pittsburgh community turned out in full force to celebrate PGH Pride in the Pit—a raucous, high-energy showcase of LGBTQ+ pride fused with the raw power of punk and metal. Held at Mr. Smalls Funhouse in Millvale, PA, the event, presented by Chaotic Order Entertainment and Strike True Promotions, brought together some of the region’s most electrifying up-and-coming bands and performers for what was billed as the heaviest Pride event of the year.

More than just a night of headbanging and fierce performances, Pride in the Pit also served a greater cause. A portion of the proceeds went to Allies for Health + Wellbeing, a local organization dedicated to providing inclusive, holistic care and breaking down financial and social barriers to ensure everyone has access to the services they need. The inaugural event was a resounding success, raising over $1,300 to support Allies’ critical work in HIV, hepatitis C, and STI testing and care; gender-affirming services; and inclusive primary care.

For more information on how to support their mission, visit www.alliespgh.org.

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Drag Queens in Da Burgh

The day was emceed by Miss Demeanor and Zelda Kollins (who filled in for JoeMyGosh who missed the event due to being sick). The duo kept the crowd entertained while the bands were switching out and setting up equipment. They performed several drag routines to pop-punk songs that were chalked full of sass and charisma and dabbled in comedy and crowd work.

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Dysphoric Void

Dysphoric Void Kicked Off the Day with a Raucous, Positive Charge

The afternoon’s ferocious soundtrack began with Dysphoric Void, a self-described collective of easy-core metal folx crafting anthems about life, resilience, and spreading good vibes. Fronted by the powerhouse Sparky, the band erupted onto the stage with vocals swinging from subterranean growls to piercing screams, commanding all who showed up early enough to catch their set. Rumor had it this was one of Sparky’s first live performances with the band, but you’d never guess from the sheer conviction in the vocal delivery.

The group blazed through a chunky, riff-heavy set of metal-adjacent tunes. And just like that, they were gone, off to Erie, Pennsylvania, ready to tear through their second gig of the day.

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Uprising

UPRISING: Pittsburgh’s Molotov Cocktail of Crossover Chaos

What can I say about this band? Only that they just dropped the most electrifying punk-metal grenade of 2025—Under Threat (April 2025)—a rabid, riff-loaded beast that crackles with the same anarchic energy that made M.O.D., S.O.D., and D.R.I. legends. This isn’t just an album; it’s a middle finger dipped in nostalgia and napalm, and it’s the best thing to happen to crossover thrash in years!

When UPRISING stormed the stage at PGH Pride in the Pit, they didn’t just play—they declared war. Frontman Bala Rise kicked things off with a smirk and a snarl: “Politics. I hate ‘em. But that’s what I’m gonna scream about all night.” And scream they did. Delivering a sweat-drenched sermon of anti-establishment fury, delivered with the kind of raw, unfiltered aggression that left teeth marks on the crowd.

The set was a masterclass in controlled demolition as the band ran through tracks such as “Rise” and “Great Distraction,” which featured bassist D.B. on lead vocals. They ripped through the title track, “Under Threat,” with shouts of “We are under threat!” making the song a thrash-metal sledgehammer that cemented their place as Pittsburgh’s new kings of crossover chaos.

They also performed “You Made Us Too,” which brought Candrika Rice to the stage to help with vocal duties.By the time they left the stage, one thing was clear: UPRISING didn’t just play a show, they are working to etch their name into the city’s punk history with a switchblade.

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millie DREAD 

At first glance, millie DREAD seemed a spectral anomaly among the evening’s barrage of punk and metal—a lone rose in a briar patch of distortion. That is until she opened her mouth and began to sing.

And just like that, Pittsburgh met its new sovereign of shadows, and that is when the audience became fully aware that there is a new queen of Hell, and she is millie DREAD.

Bathed in monochrome hallucinations, flickering static, and fractured Rorschach blots. millie DREAD didn’t just perform; she dissolved into the projections, a living silhouette in the storm, which was more a piece of moving art than a musical performance. Cloaked head-to-toe in black, she merged with the chaos behind her, her voice a whispering contralto threading through icy synth-pop arrangements. This wasn’t mere music; it was haunting and emotional vocals, a séance set to rhythmic percussion and simplistic piano lines. Her lyrics, gothic and agonized poetry, whispered over glacial basslines.

The effect was one of hypnotic alchemy. The room’s temperature dropped. Mosh-pit warriors stood transfixed. Even bystanders snapped to attention, lured by the gravity of her vibrato and the visuals’ mesmeric unease.

By set’s end, one truth was inescapable: millie DREAD hadn’t just played a show—she’d cast a spell.

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Cult Ov Crowley

Hailing from the industrial shadows of Akron, Ohio, The Cult Ov Crowley stood as the sole out-of-town provocateurs at PGH Pride in the Pit—and they arrived like a ritual dagger to the chest of convention. Their sound? A vortex of stoner-rock riffage, sludge-metal, and Thelemic mysticism, delivered with the kind of countercultural fury that would make Aleister Crowley himself crack a grin.

This wasn’t just a band; it was a sacrilegious séance. Their live show radiated occult psychedelia, a visceral experience where esoteric lore collided with amplifier worship. And the crowd devoured every second of the set.

The band, led by vocalist Deon Thompson, closed their set with a solid cover of the Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s classic “Ohio.” The searing anti-war anthem written about the Kent State massacre. For a band rooted just miles from where the National Guard opened fire on student protesters in 1970, the choice wasn’t just poignant and a full-circle rebellion.

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Disease Of The Mind

Disease of the Mind Delivers a Sonic Assault

If you’ve ever experienced true noisecore, you’ll understand the beautiful carnage Disease of the Mind unleashed that day. This two-man audio wrecking crew short-circuited expectations, holding the audience in a chokehold of sonic chaos. Imagine a horrific car crash set to the soundtrack of malfunctioning industrial machinery, shrieking feedback, and the grotesque, warped ghost of Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville”—then cranked to eleven.

Their set began with the torture of guitar pedals and sequencers, twisting knobs until the air itself seemed to vibrate in agony. The sounds they conjured weren’t just heard—they crawled under your skin, forcing involuntary reactions: a shudder down the spine, a head cocked sideways like a confused dog, shoulders hunching as if shielding yourself from nails on a chalkboard. This wasn’t music—it was a physical experience, a controlled detonation of noise that left the crowd equal parts thrilled and traumatized.

As the chaos and audio warfare permeated the walls of the Funhouse, Mike Fisher stumbled to the stage, with his pants falling down, his shirt half on, and a full-length mirror in hand. He grabbed the mic and mumbled an apology for his unpreparedness as the sensory receptors of the audience waned in pain. He grumbled and gruffed as his dreadlocks hid his face. He fumbled along with the “Margaritaville” lyrics as he grabbed a pair of hair clippers and began to shave his beard. The metallic screech of the blades of the clippers echoed through the PA system, adding one more layer to the chaos and auditory discomfort. Each pass at his beard sent coarse black tufts of his hair fluttering onto the stage like snow in a nuclear winter. Once the haphazard shave was complete, he cowered behind the mirror like a goblin king, shoving fistfuls of freshly shaven hair into his mouth as if testing the universe’s patience, all while still singing along with Jimmy Buffett with the vigor of a South Side drunk at 3am or a Neanderthal expressing both love and rage simultaneously.

And before you knew it, the turmoil and turbulence stopped. The world began to calm. No explanation. No, thank you. No, good night. Just silence as the two men exited the stage.

Had the entire 6-minute set been a joke, a ruse, or did it have deeper reach and meaning? Was it an ode to Banksy-style art or destructive and noise artists like Merzbow or The Rita? Either way, it was enthralling, disturbing, and electrifying.

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Terminal Intensity

From Unassuming to Unstoppable: Terminal Intensity Ignites the Stage

At first, the band members milled around the stage like roadies during the MCs’ banter. They looked a bit nervous and somewhat tired. It had been a long day (hell, a long week) for vocalist JJ Ulizio, who’d been pulling double duty as both frontman and founder of PGH Pride in the Pit. They looked unremarkable, almost ordinary—until the first searing note erupted from the PA.

Then, the switch flipped.

What followed was a bombastic, vein-popping assault—Dillinger Escape Plan’s chaos meets Car Bomb’s precision, with Code Orange’s raw menace snarling at the edges. The band’s self-proclaimed “dork-grind meets calculus-core” wasn’t just a clever tagline; it was a blood pact they delivered on, note for note.

JJ’s vocals were a force of nature, powerful and profound, guttural yet articulate, like a preacher screaming into a hurricane. Guitarist and primary songwriter Albert Ignasky was a live wire, shredding riffs with whip-crack precision before hurling himself into the crowd, igniting mosh pits mid-solo without missing a beat. The rhythm section? Dave Bruschi on bass and Ryan Palastro on drums are subterranean bulldozers, driving each song down your throat with or without your consent.

This band’s still fresh out the womb, just a handful of shows deep, but they’re already writing an album that’ll probably require a physics degree to comprehend. If this set was any indication, it’s that Pittsburgh’s scene just got a new apex predator; they’re poised to detonate on a national scale. You’ve been warned.

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Desolence

Desolence took over the stage with what was the most polished and tight set of the evening. Led by the intense, gravelly screams of vocalist Brian Hindman and a twin guitar attack of Fen Marshall and Aaron Pepe, the band threw down a set of classic progressive thrash metal. Hindman’s stage presence increased the passion of the set tenfold as he powerfully crouched at the edge of the stage, unloading his vocals from the depths of his soul and lungs.

Polished? Absolutely. Ferocious? Unquestionably. Desolence didn’t just play; they proved why they’re a force to be reckoned with.

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Crisis In America

HEY! Crisis In America (C.I.A.) stormed the stage to close out the night, they didn’t just play—they detonated a Molotov cocktail of pissed-off, working-class punk fury. Channeling the blue-collar grit of bands like Social Distortion and the intensity of Sick of It All, the band ripped through their set with the kind of unapologetic energy that reminded everyone why punk isn’t dead—it’s just pissed and waiting for its moment unleash its fury on America.

Front and center, the band looked like they were having genuinely great time on stage Feeding off the sweat-drenched crowd. And that name? Crisis In America (C.I.A.) a brilliant, ironic middle finger to the machine, made all the more cutting as the U.S. was literally dropping bombs on Iran moments before their set. Talk about punk rock timing.

This wasn’t just a performance, it was a rallying cry, a middle finger wrapped in distortion, and proof that the best punk bands don’t just sing about rebellion—they embody it. HEY! indeed.

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Final Thoughts

Overall, an outstanding night of music and Pride. Big props go out to JJ Ulizio and Mike Fisher for inviting Empire Extreme to come help them celebrate Pride Month. They assure me that this is just the first of many of these events, and the success of this one is an indication that it is only upwards from here.

Please check out all the bands and sponsors and see you next year!

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The night before Memorial Day saw Pittsburgh’s own Preserving Underground hosting Japanese natives Crystal Lake. Crystal Lake are out on their first ever North American tour with the support of upcomers Born A New, and rising talents Leylines. Crystal Lake is known for their high energy live shows and crowd engagement are looking to build a following, while first time visiting a lot of their stateside fans. Pittsburgh is the last stop for this tour as the band the very next will be headed to Europe to pick up on another tour. 

Leylines came out with a blur of dissonant heaviness to get the crowd moving. Their style is breakdown ladened down tunedheaviness. This band is trying to bash you over the head with the kitchen sink. The drums are fast paced and syncopated with the low tuned guitars. The blast beats cut through the live mix like a knife. The vocals are aggressive and harsh. Leylines’s sound blankets and pummels you to the ground. This new band on the scene is picking up speed with a solid foundation being laid. They have an EP recorded and a full length in process, according to Mike Ranne the EP is due out soon on Silent Pendulum Records, with the single Blindspots out now. 

Born A New came out getting the crowd dancing from the jump. This NJ metal core outfit incorporates a mix of hardcore and deathcore throughout their songs. This band keeps the adrenaline flowing through their set with a lot of energy and aggression. Their sound is comparable to acts like Spite and Thrown; heavy breakdowns mixed with quick paced thrash riffs, dropping out into a heavy groove, each song had its own bounce to it. The band played through several songs from the Eternal Isolation album and even played their newest single No Option for Decision. 

Crystal Lake closed out the night, this band took their arena show and somehow crammed all their energy onto this club’s stage. From the first note this band just erupted and wouldn’t stop moving through the set. The crowd engagement was top notch. Vocalist John Robert Centorrino had a demanding presence, pacing the stage and hyping up the crowd with each song. To see Preserving’s attendees all come alive on sing along and taking cues from John, really revitalized the show. The band sounded tight, while appearing to play effortlessly. The band played through several songs including Watch Me Burn, while closing out with Apollo. 

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Can a band be a bit creepy, profound, and enigmatic while offering insightful commentary on our grotesque feeding habits and our society’s behaviors buried under theatrical costumes, stunts, and heavy metal riffs? Mac Sabbath, fronted by Ronald Osborne, provides a twist to a slew of classic Black Sabbath songs. Bringing these masterful metal riffs back to life are guitarist Slayer MacCheeze, bassist Grimalice, and pulling drum duty is a half Hamburgler, half Peter Criss character known as the Cat Burglar.

Mac Sabbath has been crisscrossing the United States for the last few months on the “More Than Meats The Eye” tour with the band of Transformers known as The Cybertronic Spree, along with Playboy Manbaby, who are taking a brief break from their jobs in the fast food industry.

As the band prepared to perform, the air hung heavy with the scent of fried mystery meat and the distant echo of deranged laughter. The intro music began to play, which was coupled with the sounds of hooves of stampeding cattle pounding the ground and long, woeful mooing. The scene was set for a descent into a gastronomic hallucination. The stage was flanked by two larger-than-life plastic Ronald McDonald heads with glowing red eyes that were ripped from the top of a set of exterior trash cans at McDonald’s chain restaurants in the mid-80s.

The four horsemen of the fast food apocalypse emerged onto the stage and blasted into the haunting opening riffs of “Organic Funeral” a parody of Black Sabbath’s “Electric Funeral”. A full minute and forty-five seconds into the song, the groups of fast-food mascots were joined on stage by vocalist Ronald Osborne, clad in a straitjacket. He spent several moments gyrating in an effort to free himself from the confines of the white straitjacket that was stained with greasepaint and what one could only assume was ketchup.

The leader of the culinary renegades of rock stepped up to the mic with a manic energy that was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. His eyes, wide and wild, scanned the crowd as if searching for souls to devour. He began bellowing the lyrics, “Asparagine in the fries warns you of synthetic food dyes. Warm numbing feeling inside from the poisons that are fried ammonium sulfate. Monosodium glutamate, Monsanto run FDA, ONLY LEGAL IN THE USA!”

As the unholy communion of music and madness continued, the band played “Sweet Beef” (Black Sabbath “Sweet Leaf”) and The Lizard (Black Sabbath “The Wizard”). In this surreal circus of sonic excess, reality and absurdity collided, creating a dimension where the boundaries between fast food and heavy metal dissolved like a cheeseburger in a vat of hot oil. Ronald proceeded to douse the audience with water from squeezable ketchup and mustard bottles.

As the kaleidoscope of characters laid down the songs “In Dreams” (Roy Orbison), “Bread” (KISS “Beth”), and “Love Buns” (KISS “Love Gun”), one began to realize that the experience was not just a concert; it was a psychedelic trip through the greasy underbelly of rock and roll, a journey into the heart of a culinary carnival where the only rule was to embrace the madness and savor the high calorie content of the chaos.

As the carnival of parody and homage wound down, the lead singer, in his carnivalesque regalia, reached out to the crowd like a mad preacher, exhorting the congregation to embrace the madness as the band marched through the tracks “Supersize” (Black Sabbath “Supernaut”), “Chicken for the Slaves” (Black Sabbath “Children of the Grave”), and “Frying Pan” (Black Sabbath “Iron Man”). Ronald shouted, “Cows, we’re going to grind. Hope your stomach is well lined. Do I have the gall? Chopping onions makes me bawl, to the tune of Iron Man.

As the final notes reverberated into the ether, the crowd knew there was more to the orchestrated psychedelic feast for the senses. Mac Sabbath returned to the stage for a two-song encore that featured a collaboration with members of The Cybertronic Spree on the track “Hallowiener Schnitzel” (Misfits “Halloween”), followed by “Pair-a-Buns” (Black Sabbath “Paranoid”), which left an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of all who bore witness to their peculiar brand of musical alchemy.

FULL SET LIST:
Organic Funeral(Black Sabbath “Electric Funeral”)
Sweet Beef (Black Sabbath“Sweet Leaf”)
The Lizard (Black Sabbath“The Wizard”)
Grilled by Death (Motörhead“Killed by Death”)
Drive Thru the Void(Black Sabbath “Into the Void”)
In Dreams (Roy Orbison)
Bread (KISS “Beth”)
Love Buns (KISS “Love Gun”)
Supersize (Black Sabbath “Supernaut”)
Chicken for the Slaves (Black Sabbath “Children of the Grave”)
Frying Pan (Black Sabbath “Iron Man”)
Hallowiener Schnitzel (Misfits “Halloween”) with members of The Cybertronic Spree
Pair-a-Buns (Black Sabbath “Paranoid”)

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