Festivals

Sick New World 2026: Perfect Weather, Perfect Chaos, and Everything in Between

Published

1 hour ago

May 12, 2026

There was something almost strangely perfect about the atmosphere surrounding Sick New World on April 25, 2026. Instead of the brutal Vegas heat most people expect, the festival sat under cooler temperatures, constant winds, and a layer of overcast gloom that matched the tone of the entire day perfectly. Between the dark skies, towering stages, long hair whipping through the air, and the nonstop wall of heavy music echoing across the grounds, the whole festival carried a mood that felt immersive before the first band went on. And as a photographer, it honestly made for the best lighting I’ve ever worked with.

Despite being a longtime attendee of When We Were Young Festival, this was actually my first time attending Sick New World. Since both festivals are put on by C3 Presents, I’d always treated them as an either-or decision when it came to planning a Vegas trip each year. And because WWWY naturally leans more toward the scene I grew up in, it always won.

After finally experiencing Sick New World for myself though, it became pretty obvious almost immediately that one Vegas festival a year is probably no longer going to cut it — something my bank account and schedule are unfortunately going to suffer greatly from moving forward.

The Dark.FM

This was my new-to-me artist pick of the festival. I always try to see at least one artist I haven’t seen before at every fest I cover or attend. This time I was able to catch three, but this set was my favorite without question.

The vibe was immediate — the band slammed straight into gear before the rotating stage had even fully turned into position on their side. I remember distinctly locking eyes with a couple other photographers in the pit only moments into the first song, “Slip Away,” all of us sharing the exact same “OH MY GOD” expression. It was one of those rare festival moments where everyone in the pit knows they’re witnessing something special in real time.

It was a phenomenal set, though like most festival coverage, I wasn’t able to see them in their entirety. That’s just the nature of it — first three songs, linger if there’s a gap, then move on to the next act.

Craig Johns Jr.’s vocals soared through the atmosphere with a power that was almost disorienting in the best way. Completely mesmerizing. The band’s stage presence was locked in from the very first second, carrying a level of intensity that felt far bigger than an early-day set. Nothing about it felt like an opening slot performance — it felt like a band operating at full force, regardless of time or placement.

This is a band that needs to come back next year and deserves a mainstage spot. No question. They’re going to explode in the meantime, and they’re deserving of a crowd that matches the scale they’re clearly capable of reaching. Do not sleep on them — they’ve been on repeat since the moment I started the drive back to California.

P.O.D.

Like opening a time capsule, this set was. The overwhelming sense of nostalgia flowing through me, and taking over the entire crowd, was something I will always remember.

Sonny sounded fantastic, and the band was incredibly tight — heavy in all the right ways, with zero looseness in the performance. They opened with “BOOM,” and honestly, there’s no better way to kick off a set than immediately engaging the crowd with that kind of bass and energy. It set everything off perfectly.

They moved through “Rock The Party (Off The Hook),” “Drop,” “Youth of the Nation,” and “Alive,” each one landing like a collective memory resurfacing all at once. The entire crowd turned into a sea of hands in the air, bodies moving in sync with the beat, fully locked into every moment.

It was one of those sets that reminded me exactly what it felt like growing up on this genre in the late ’90s and early 2000s — not just hearing the music, but living inside it.

Lords of Acid

Borderline embarrassed to admit it, but this was another new-to-me band despite their extremely lengthy career. Now fronted by Carla Harvey, former co-vocalist of The Butcher Babies, this set was, for lack of a better term, HOT.

Hitting the stage in a fire engine red latex dress and thigh-high black latex boots, the entire performance immediately screamed photo opp from the second it started. It was one of those sets where you can feel yourself switching into photographer mode without even thinking about it.

They tore through songs like “Scrood Bi U,” “Mister Machoman,” and “Rubber Doll” without wasting a second. Everything about it moved fast, loud, and intentionally over the top. The crowd was completely locked in, and you could feel that same energy from the pit too — not just fans reacting, but photographers clearly realizing they were getting something special in front of them.

It was one of my favorite sets of the day, hands down. A full-on visual and sonic shock to the system in the middle of the festival flow.

Kittie

My husband was particularly jealous of the fact that I got to see Kittie in the flesh. These absolute legends in the scene were nothing short of incredible live, though I expected nothing less.

The full female lineup hailing from Ontario, Canada brought a kind of force that still feels rare in a predominantly male-dominated genre, and they made it look effortless. They shredded harder than probably any act I saw that day.

Morgan Lander’s guttural screams and razor-sharp guitar work could be felt all the way down to your core, even as I was moving toward the back of the crowd. Ivy Jenkins’ basslines were bone-rattling, paired perfectly with Mercedes Lander’s relentless drumming, while Tara McLeod’s riffs tied everything together with precision and weight.

They were completely locked in from start to finish, and it was visceral. Even the wind cutting through the festival grounds only added to it — hair whipping through the air, sound carrying across the crowd, everything just visually and audibly clicking at once.

They played “Fire,” “Spit,” and “Cut Throat,” and it felt like every second of it hit harder than the last.

It was genuinely an honor to catch the brief portion of their set that I was able to see.

Cypress Hill

I LOVE how seamlessly Cypress Hill fit onto this bill of a totally different genre. I remember seeing the lineup announcement and thinking, “oh my god, no way!” — but somehow in reality it just made sense.

I was genuinely eager to catch this set, especially since it’s not a genre I find myself in often despite loving it. And I think we can all collectively agree that regardless of where we lean musically, we all love Cypress Hill.

As expected, following B-Real’s lead, the crowd was *lit* almost immediately. They opened with “When The Shit Goes Down,” one of my all-time favorites, followed by the iconic “I Wanna Get High” (it would’ve been a crime not to play it) and “I Ain’t Goin Out Like That.” The devastation of having to leave before “Insane In The Brain” was very real.

But the energy from both the crowd and the band was undeniable. B-Real and Sen Dog have such a natural vocal chemistry, and their stage presence is effortless. DJ Lord looked like he was having the time of his life dropping beats, while Eric Bobo moved between a traditional drum kit and congas, layering in that signature Latin rhythm that gives everything extra soul.

The crowd stayed fully engaged the entire set, and a friend even recalled another fan joking on the way out, “so much for a mellow show.” I wish it hadn’t taken me this long to finally see Cypress Hill, but what a set to start with.

Also worth noting — we spotted Shavo Odadjian from System of a Down jamming side stage the entire time, which made it feel even more surreal.

Twin Tribes

This was my third new-to-me band of the day. While I’d been loosely familiar with Twin Tribes for a couple of years — mostly through bits of their music and stunning live photos I’ve come across from other photographers — I hadn’t spent nearly enough time with them before this performance. That changed immediately.

I live for the vibe this duo brings to the table — that gothic, darkwave sound paired with a visual aesthetic that feels completely intentional. The set opened with “Shadows,” followed by “Heart & Feather,” neither of which I’ve been able to stop listening to since. Both tracks immediately locked in the tone of the entire performance.

They continued through songs like “Cauldron of Thorns” and “Sangre de oro,” the latter being a fully Spanish-spoken track that highlights the band’s Latin roots. Luis Navarro and Joel Niño Jr. were so in sync with each other that it felt almost entrancing to watch.

There’s a quiet precision to the way they perform that pulls you in without relying on any over-the-top theatrics — just pure, natural atmosphere.

It’s one of those sets that completely reframes how you think about a band if you go in only half-familiar. I left fully understanding why people gravitate toward them the way they do, and I already know I’ll be revisiting their catalog heavily moving forward. I’d absolutely love to see and photograph them again as soon as the opportunity comes up.

Knocked Loose

This set was where things finally felt familiar. I had covered Knocked Loose just six months prior on the neighboring main stage at When We Were Young Festival, and just like the last time, they absolutely delivered.

The way security visibly beefs up right before they take the stage always makes me laugh a little — equal parts anticipation and preparation for the inevitable chaos. And sure enough, it all unfolded exactly as expected. Crowdsurfers, nonstop mosh pits, and wall-of-death energy filled every corner of the crowd without hesitation.

Right before they came out, yellow smoke poured up into the air. One by one, the band stepped onto the stage, immediately ramping the energy up even higher before a single note even hit. Bryan Garris wasted no time with his signature mic swings, and the second they slammed into “Blinding Faith,” the crowd started pouring over the barricade.

The chaos only escalated through “Don’t Reach For Me” and “Mistakes Like Fractures.” The last time I shot them, pyro felt endless — this time, likely due to higher-than-expected winds, those of us only there for the first three songs got just one blast. It ended up being the jumpscare of the century, and I’ve only seen one photograph capture it so far. I very quickly checked to make sure I still had eyebrows.

They’re consistently one of the most intense live bands I’ve ever photographed. There’s a level of passion that’s impossible to ignore, both from the band and from the crowd feeding it right back. It’s controlled chaos in the best way.

I had to run off before catching “Counting Worms” and “Everything Is Quiet Now” up close, which stung a bit, but I managed to catch both from afar after finishing up my next set. Seeing them from a distance didn’t take away from it — if anything, it just let me take in the full scale of how unhinged the crowd still was upon my return.

Coal Chamber

I was extremely excited for this set from the moment the lineup dropped. A staple of the scene, Coal Chamber brought the same chaotic energy to the stage they’ve had since ‘92.

They dove right in with “Sway,” which felt like the perfect opener — it set everything ablaze immediately, pun intended. Dez Fafara’s vocals sounded shockingly close to their earlier years, and his chaotic stage movement was still fully intact, mirroring the energy he’s always carried live.

Nadja Peulen’s relentless headbanging and powerful basslines had the crowd locked in from the start. Miguel “Meegs” Rascón’s riffs — what we affectionately refer to at home as “chuggas” — locked perfectly with the bass, while Mike Cox’s heavy drumming tied everything together with force and precision.

They moved through “Big Truck” and “Fiend,” each one landing with that familiar early nu-metal weight that hit just right in a festival setting like this. The entire set felt tightly wound, like a band fully aware of their legacy and still capable of delivering it at full force.

I had to peel away before “Loco,” which I’ll undoubtedly be catching later this year at Aftershock Festival 2026, where I’ll be able to experience it without the constraints of a shooting schedule.

They also remain, without question, a band that deserves a mainstage slot next time around.

Marilyn Manson

This was it for me. The set of all sets. The one I had been thinking about for months leading up to the festival.

I was never able to see Marilyn Manson back in the heyday of this genre, despite sharing a deep admiration for him, his music, and his message with my mom growing up. The timing just never worked out, and we never got lucky enough to catch a show. She was obsessed, and I was a pretty lucky unconventional kid to be raised on his music at a time when a lot of mothers were hiding their children from it.

So getting the chance to photograph him at Sick New World wasn’t just another shoot on my schedule — it was something else entirely, and something a lot of photographers don’t get lucky enough to do during their careers. I was still in disbelief as we were escorted into the photo pit of the Purple Stage. Even more so as he stepped out in his black leather trench coat and there I still stood, camera ready.

With Tim Sköld’s first bass notes leading into “Nod If You Understand,” I knew immediately this was going to be one of those moments that sticks with you. My hands were shaking holding my camera — something that’s only happened a handful of times, and usually when I forget I’m working and just remember I’m a fan.

“Sick New World! I fucking love you. Not too easy to destroy huh? I’m not fucking disposable!” Manson exclaimed before the iconic riffs of “Disposable Teens” rang out from both Piggy D and Nick Annis on guitars. Nick in particular blew me away — incredible talent, insane energy, and a perfect new fit for the band.

The crowd exploded, screaming every word. I was right there with them, just a little quieter behind the camera. I found myself saying “wow” under my breath more than once between shots, grinning ear to ear.

From there they moved into “Angel With the Scabbed Wings.” It was bittersweet knowing this would be the last song I was able to shoot, but there wasn’t a second of it I wanted to rush through. Manson looked and sounded better than ever — renewed, focused, and fully present. The band behind him matched that energy completely, locked in and tight in a way that made the whole performance feel perfectly cohesive and sharp.

This set provide me with the perfect storm to capture and produce my best work to date.

Walking away from this one was easily the hardest part of the day. Not because of anything lacking, but because of how fully it delivered on everything I had built it up to be.

And I’ll still be chasing that feeling for a long while. It helps knowing that I’ll be back to catch the 30th anniversary of Antichrist Superstar in LA on Halloween and the following night. Even though I’m still thanking my lucky stars for the opportunity to cover him at SNW, I’m crossing my fingers and toes to be able to do it again at The Wiltern.

She Wants Revenge

Early 2000’s seductive dark wave. As an elder millennial, you really can’t ask for more than that. As I’m sure you’ve gathered by now, I’m a sucker for it, and I was totally taken aback by this performance.

Justin Warfield and Adam Bravin took to the stage, standing almost motionless as the intro to “Written In Blood” began. The tension slowly built before Warfield’s monotone vocals cut through the air with a crisp precision, instantly locking the crowd into a mood that felt brooding, controlled, and charged.

The set unfolded with a kind of restraint that made it hit even harder. You could see the music move through Warfield’s posture with every subtle shift, while Bravin anchored everything with a steady presence behind him. It wasn’t about spectacle — it was about atmosphere, and they leaned into that fully.

“These Things” and “Your Love” carried that same energy, with Warfield eventually removing his jacket as the set progressed. It felt effortless, almost reminiscent of a dark, stripped-down Iggy Pop kind of delivery — maximum presence, fully engaged movement, and total command of the stage. Yet another set where us photographers locked in on one another with the “oh my god” eyes.

As the sun began to slowly start to dip and the light shifted across the festival grounds, the timing couldn’t have been better. The temperature dropped slightly, the overcast glow deepened, and everything aligned with the tone of the performance in a way that felt almost too perfect to ignore.

They’d sold out The Wiltern just two nights prior, and after seeing this set, it made complete sense why.

Evanescence

Back to the Green Stage I ran to ensure I didn’t miss this unreal opportunity. And what an incredible performance it was.

The band took the stage illuminated in deep blues and reds, immediately opening with “Afterlife.” From the first note, it was clear Amy Lee’s voice was going to carry the entire set with ease. There’s something almost unreal about the control she has — powerful, precise, and seemingly effortless.

They followed with “What You Want,” and the energy shifted instantly into something more explosive. Amy’s vocal range continues to feel like one of the most impressive in modern rock, and hearing it cut through an open festival field like that was really something else. Otherworldly.

“Thank you guys so much, it is an honor to be back! Oh my goodness, we haven’t been on stage in a few months and I forgot how good it fucking feels! Thank you for coming out today! To come together and celebrate music with so many amazing artists – this is what feels right. This is the only thing that feels fucking right!” she said before moving into “Going Under,” which hit especially hard as my personal favorite.

The depth of her voice leading into that song was just as piercing as her crystal blue eyes, carrying a weight that instantly pulled everything into focus. That moment in particular felt like a full reset in the middle of the day — familiar, heavy, and emotional in a way that doesn’t really fade over time.

The band behind her was just as locked in, giving everything a massive, polished weight that elevated the performance as a whole rather than centering any one element.

It was dynamic, it was raw, and it was everything I could have asked for from this set.

Underoath

My last shoot, and the only full set I ended up catching from start to finish.

Unfortunately, I missed the mark here in terms of photography. I just didn’t capture Underoath the way they deserve to be documented. I’ve covered them once before on the Their Only Chasing Safety tour, and they’re one of those bands that carries a very real, very visible kind of passion every time they step on stage — I just couldn’t translate it in real time the way I wanted to this time around. It happens.

That said, I couldn’t rightfully leave them out of this review.

Slated at 9:25pm during Korn’s set, they still managed to pull a solid crowd and immediately thanked everyone for showing up.

“Yo Vegas, how we feeling? We’re Underoath from Tampa, Florida. This is our first time ever playing Sick New World so thank you for joining us! They said ‘we’re gonna put you at the same time as one of the headliners,’ and we were like ‘okay!’” Spencer Chamberlain said with a smile and a shrug. “We’re gonna have fuckin fun either fuckin way, let’s go! Now who wants to hear an old song?”

The crowd responded instantly, breaking into a large circle pit as the band pushed the energy forward. The contrast between Spencer and Aaron’s vocals is still one of the most defining parts of the band — Spencer’s raw, guttural intensity cutting through everything with force, while Aaron’s voice brings in that unmistakable melodic clarity that lifts the chaos just enough to make it hit even harder. Together, it’s a push and pull that feels completely unrelenting in a live setting.

“It’s Dangerous Business Walking Out Your Front Door” hit with its usual weight, and the breakdown landed exactly the way it always does — chaotic, loud, and fully unhinged.

“Drowning in my sleep, I’m drowning in my sleep” came through right as the breakdown hit, sending the crowd into another wave of movement as everything collapsed into pure chaos.

They continued through “Young and Aspiring,” “All The Love Is Gone,” “Hallelujah,” and “Pneumonia.”

I had originally planned to step away after the first few songs to catch a bit of Korn, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Even without shooting them the way I wanted to, the performance itself kept me planted.

By the time they reached “A Boy Brushed Red Living in Black and White,” I gave in completely and jumped into the pit for a few moments myself, cameras tucked tight to my chest. There was no way around it — that song just pulls you in.

They closed with “Generation No Surrender,” and that was the moment I realized I needed to move across the grounds and start wrapping up gear for the night. I hate to say that I missed the entirety of Korn’s set, but if there was anyone I was willing to miss it for, it was definitely UO.

System of a Down

The final act, and the undeniable peak of the day.

Not everyone was lucky enough to secure a spot in the photo pit, but everyone on the grounds was lucky enough to witness SOAD close out Sick New World in the way only they can. By the time I made it back to the main stages, the crowd had fully condensed into one massive field of bodies, all pushed toward the Purple Stage.

I arrived during “Aerials,” already in progress, with Serj Tankian’s voice carrying clean and precise over the entire space. The dual vocal layering with Daron Malakian gave it that familiar tension that makes their live sound so distinct — melodic and chaotic at the same time, without ever feeling like it’s pulling apart.

Then came “B.Y.O.B.,” and everything immediately shifted into motion. Even from the back, you could see multiple pockets of movement erupt across the crowd. It wasn’t contained — it was everywhere at once, spilling through the entire field.

Behind the band, massive screens cycled through political text and satirical headlines, reinforcing the weight of the performance without ever distracting from it. Messages like “Peace: Postponed Indefinitely” and “Your Silence Is Part of the Feed” flashed across the backdrop, amplifying the commentary that has always been central to their identity.

One of the most memorable moments of the night came during “Radio/Video,” when rain began to fall across the festival grounds. Just before starting, Daron joked, “It’s raining men,” earning a reaction from Serj and a shared laugh between them before the song began. The rain, the lighting, and the scale of the stage all came together in a way that felt almost unreal — like the universe had planned it. The lasers cut through and collided with the raindrops perfectly, creating a visual explosion to the senses that felt impossible to fully take in all at once.

At the end of the song Serj took refuge toward the back of the stage. “Serj can run away from the rain. I can’t run away from the rain because I’ve got to stand here and sing, and the mic is here.” Daron joked. “There’s rain here too,” Serj replied. “There’s rain there too? I wish I could join you there,” Daron added. “I just switched places and put my jacket back on,” Serj playfully stated before checking on the crowd — “How are you guys doing out there?” to which the crowd screamed back in response. “You are far too kind,” Daron said.

The set continued through staples like “Hypnotize,” “Chop Suey!,” “Lonely Day,” and “Lost in Hollywood,” each one met with a different wave of movement from the crowd. By the time they reached the final stretch, the energy had fully peaked.

“Toxicity” and “Sugar” closed it out, with the entire field in motion — crowdsurfers moving in waves, hands stretched in every direction, and the band taking their final bow together at center stage.

Despite many notable ideological differences between members, everything was set aside in the name of music and the fans. For all the intensity, chaos, and scale of the day, this was the moment it all landed.

Leaving the grounds after that final bow felt like walking out of something that doesn’t fully register until later, when the noise drops out and the body finally catches up with everything it’s taken in. The kind of day that starts at sunrise, runs on instinct and adrenaline, and only really slows down once you’re already on your way back to the hotel.

There was a constant push and pull to the entire festival — moments that felt massive in scale followed immediately by quieter pockets of connection that were just as impactful in their own way. Moving between stages, camera in hand, trying to stay present while also staying ahead of the next set, it all blurred together into this long stretch of sound, light, and motion that never really let up. And yet, somewhere in all of it, there were still those small pauses where everything lined up — the weather, the timing, the framing — where it felt less like documenting and more like being immersed in it.

By the time the final performances had wrapped and the crowd began to thin out, there was that familiar mix of exhaustion and reluctance. The kind that comes from knowing you’ve just experienced something you won’t be able to fully recreate in the same way again, no matter how many times you return to it. For someone still relatively early in covering full festival days from behind the lens, it still finds ways to reset that perspective.

What stayed with me most wasn’t any single moment, but the accumulation of them — the way different eras of music coexisted on the same grounds, the way a crowd can shift from chaos to stillness and back again without warning, and how quickly a full day can disappear when you’re moving from one set to the next.

As everything faded behind me, one thing stuck a little clearer than the rest: I’m probably going to have to start doubling up on my annual Vegas festival trips from here on out.

We’d like to thank C3 Presents from the bottom of our hearts for having us out to cover the third installation of Sick New World. This was an incredible opportunity and experience that we won’t soon forget. And for those of you in the Fort Worth area or surrounding, or those willing to make the trip, be sure to catch Sick New World, October 24th 2026 in Texas. This is the first year the festival is slated to make two stops!

Coal Chamber :