Photo of Joe Duplantier of Gojira by Zach K. Johnson
A few days before September 18th, I was catching up on emails and saw that Gojira had just announced a surprise one-off show at the Sovereign, pairing up with Missouri-based Operation Food Search to bring awareness and financial support to food and nutrition insecurity—a collaboration that runs parallel to the band’s longstanding environmental and social awareness themes. I knew the show would go quickly, so I secured a ticket and photo pass promptly; and as expected, the Sovereign was packed with metalheads showing up for heavy tunes and a good cause from their city.
Up first was opener Locked Shut, a five-piece hardcore outfit from Columbia, Missouri (where I live, natch!). I wasn’t familiar with them prior to the show, but was impressed—it’s hardcore as it should be played: tight, fast, and wall-to-wall chaotic. They even closed with a ripping cover of Metallica’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls,” sounding heavier than anything Metallica has done in the last 40 years. The band maintained the slow grinding menace of the original but added a stomping edge to make it their own. It was a hell of a way to go out, leaving the room loose, sweaty, and chomping at the bit for more.
So regardless of the smaller, more intimate size of the Sovereign, when Gojira took the stage soon after, the floor seemed to drop out from underneath us.
Despite never having seen Gojira before, I knew they’d be heavy. I’ve heard that time and again from people who don’t even care for their music as much as I do that performances are crushing—and this was no exception.
On a big festival stage, Gojira’s sound has room to spread out. At the Sovereign, it had nowhere to go but straight through your chest.
The Duplantier brothers’ technical ability, pacing, and command of the stage is extraordinary, even after thirty years in extreme metal. Mario Duplantier’s drumming is an anchor, precise and relentless, even with flourishes of loose swing and improvisation. The low end bass from Jean-Michel Labadie and the guitars of Joe Duplantier and Christian Andreu build off of each other and together into one huge, looming wall of sound, with pinch harmonics and stop-start riffs that expel from the stage and reverberate through the walls like a jackhammer, sledging into oblivion.
As I said, the closeness of the venue, the tight proximity between the band and crowd was such a unique experience, and the band even pointed this out, noting how they enjoy doing smaller club shows sometimes to change up the pace and bring sonic destruction to even the smallest of spaces. You could see the band’s faces, catch the looks they traded between songs, and feel the energy bounce back-and-forth with the stage, not to mention the incredible backlighting fixtures they use to provide dynamic visual displays without losing atmosphere and darkness. And the steam…you just had to be there.
Being concerned with ecology and human connection, I have always appreciated the social and conservationist message within much of Gojira’s music. There are galaxies of brutality within, but also shimmering gleams of more reflective ideas. I understand that for many, music and live performance are entertainment first, and that’s fine. But as a fellow creative that’s passionate about depth and humanity in art, it’s meaningful to me that artists like Gojira infuse their work with greater meaning and purpose.
Gojira at the Sovereign supporting a local cause wasn’t on my end-of-the-year bingo card for 2026, but alas, life has a way of surprising us. For my first time catching them, I couldn’t have asked for a better Tuesday (or any day ending in ‘y’) night show.
If Gojira ever returns to a smaller club in your neck of the woods, just go—and bring earplugs. | Zach K. Johnson
To find out more about how you can get involved with Operation Food Search in the greater STL-area, or if you or someone you know are experiencing food insecurity, follow the link for information and assistance.
