Refused’s last official press release spelled it all out in inscrutable terms—they’re finally calling it quits—the band’s revolutionary mission becoming inexorably and undesirably conflated with the entertainment.
But they’re not going out without a proper send-off, hitting the road with the mighty Quicksand for one last spin around the globe. The tour, aptly named “Refused Are F**king Dead (and This Time They Really Mean It)” in a not-so-subtle nod to the 2006 documentary chronicling what at the time was to be the band’s last year in existence, hit the historic Warfield for a final jaunt in San Francisco.
Slaughterhouse, one of Los Angeles’ up and coming hardcore bands kicked things off with a 30 minute set that included a generous helping of material from their brand new EP which features the latest addition to the band, vocalist Meriel O’Connell. Loud, brash, energetic, and just plain entertaining, Slaughterhouse is simply impossible to ignore and should be on everyone’s must-see list. They even had the Refused guys rapt attention from side stage.
Post-hardcore three-piece Quicksand has been playing direct support for Refused on the North American run and provided a perfect complement to the chaos that would later ensue. A generous 50-minute set ensured that their fans were sated. It may have been Refused’s tour but clearly there were a ton of folks who had shown up for the coveted Quicksand appearance.
Maybe as if to read like a tombstone, the backdrop said:
Umeå
Hardcore
Refused
1991–2025
Or perhaps it was intended as an insistence of finality after the “impossible” happened and the band reunited in 2012 for Coachella. At this point it doesn’t matter since the world got an unexpected 13 years or so of Refused.
The band stormed the heavily-hazed stage and tore into “Poetry Written in Gasoline” as if to punctuate the press release’s explanation for their breakup. Explosive blasts of seizure-inducing strobes perfectly framed frontman Dennis Lyxzén’s acrobatics as he high-kicked and spun his mic across the stage (with at least one missed catch that resulted in an audible “thunk” as the mic hit the stage), the rest of the band giving his acrobatics a wide berth.
Any reservations that the band was going to phone it in for a final payday were quickly out the window—the band on the Warfield stage had not missed a beat in all of its years of existence. Mind blowing as ever and a crowd ready to soak it all up one last time and leave it all on the dance floor.
Needless to say, this chimerical bombination in 19 bursts was well worth the price of admission and was sure to leave attendees wondering why it all must come to an end.
QUICKSAND
SLAUGHTERHOUSE
