There are nights when everything falls perfectly into place. The weather cooperates, traffic is nonexistent, the bands deliver, and you walk away with some great photos and a story worth telling. Then there are nights when your body decides to file a formal complaint before you even leave the house.
This was one of those nights. And somehow, against all odds, it turned out to be a pretty damn good one.
I’ve spent a good portion of my career working around musicians, traveling to shows, and standing in photo pits. I’ve dealt with long days, late nights, questionable weather, and the occasional logistical nightmare. But for the first time in my career, I seriously considered calling it quits before a show even started.
A couple of days before Godsmack rolled into Cincinnati, I got sick. And I’m not talking about the kind of sick where you grab a couple of aspirin, drink some coffee, and get on with your day. I’m talking about being completely bedridden, unable to eat or drink, and wondering whether my body had finally decided it was time to collect on decades of abuse.
Not exactly ideal preparation for a rock concert.
But this wasn’t just another show on the calendar. Godsmack was coming to town, and as a guy originally from Boston, I was looking forward to photographing some fellow Massachusetts natives. There’s something about seeing a band from your old stomping grounds that makes the evening a little more personal.
So I waited. And waited. By show day, I was feeling better, although “better” was a pretty generous description. I knew I’d regret missing the concert. Of course, there was also a very real possibility I’d regret attending it.
As it turns out, both predictions were correct.
A Rough Start to a Beautiful Night
The evening itself couldn’t have been much better. Cincinnati was enjoying a beautiful 65-degree night, the kind of weather that makes an outdoor concert feel like a gift this late in October.
PNC Pavilion, nestled within the Riverbend Music Center complex, was the destination. With roughly 4,100 seats, the venue offers something that larger arenas often struggle to deliver: intimacy without sacrificing the energy of a major rock show.
The covered pavilion keeps the audience close to the action, while the open sides allow just enough fresh air to remind you that you’re not trapped inside an enormous concrete box. It’s a great setting for a band that knows how to command a stage.
The drive was surprisingly painless. No traffic, no unexpected delays, and no reason to complain. Which, considering how I was feeling, was probably a good thing.
I arrived just in time and headed through the media entrance to pick up my credentials. Unfortunately, the rest of the photography crew had already been escorted to the pit.
To their credit, the venue staff was kind enough to come back for me.
The downside? We had to jog to catch up.
Now, under normal circumstances, a quick jog wouldn’t be worth mentioning. But after spending the previous couple of days wondering whether I’d ever eat solid food again, running through a concert venue wasn’t exactly high on my list of recommended activities.
My body was less than impressed.
Still, I made it to the pit, camera in hand, hoping I could hold everything together long enough to get the shots.
Dorothy: The Perfect Opening Act
If Godsmack was looking for an opening act capable of setting the tone for the evening, they couldn’t have made a better choice than Dorothy.
Fronted by the powerhouse vocals of Dorothy Martin, the band delivered exactly what a rock audience wants: strong songs, exceptional musicianship, and a performance that doesn’t rely on gimmicks to make an impression.
Martin’s voice is the kind that immediately commands attention. Powerful, soulful, and packed with grit, it cuts through the instrumentation without ever feeling forced. There’s a raw quality to her delivery that feels authentic, something increasingly difficult to find in an industry where everything seems polished within an inch of its life.
But make no mistake, Dorothy is much more than a great voice.
The musicians behind her were equally impressive, delivering tight, well-crafted rock songs with the kind of chemistry that makes a band feel like a band rather than a collection of hired players.
As someone who has spent years on both sides of the recording console, I appreciate musicians who understand that playing well isn’t necessarily about playing more. It’s about knowing when to push, when to pull back, and how to serve the song.
Dorothy and her band clearly understand that distinction.
Their performance had the energy of a headliner, and by the time they wrapped up, I found myself feeling a little more like my usual self.
Whether that was the music working its magic or my body finally deciding to cooperate, I wasn’t about to question it.
Familiar Faces and a Little Breathing Room
Following Dorothy’s set, we made our way back to the VIP area to regroup before Godsmack took the stage.
One of the things I enjoy most about covering concerts is the people I’ve met along the way. After enough shows, you start recognizing familiar faces in the photo pits, backstage areas, and media sections. What begins as a collection of strangers eventually turns into a small community of people who share the same passion and, occasionally, the same questionable judgment.
Sitting around with friends, swapping stories, and laughing about the things we’ve experienced over the years was exactly what I needed.
For a little while, I forgot how lousy I’d been feeling.
And that’s one of the things I love about live music. Sometimes the experience extends well beyond what’s happening onstage.
Of course, we weren’t there just to socialize. There was still a little matter of a Boston rock band preparing to shake the place apart.
Godsmack: No Warm-Up Necessary
When it was time, we headed back to the photo pit and waited.
The anticipation was unmistakable.
Then the lights went down.
The crowd came to its feet.
And Godsmack hit the stage with all the subtlety of a freight train.
Some bands like to ease into a performance. They’ll open with something new, perhaps a deeper album cut, and gradually work their way toward the songs everyone came to hear.
Not Godsmack.
They came out swinging, delivering hit after hit with the confidence of a band that knows exactly what it has in its arsenal.
And why wouldn’t they?
Formed in Lawrence, Massachusetts, in 1995, Godsmack has spent three decades building one of the most recognizable catalogs in modern hard rock. With multiple chart-topping albums, a long list of rock radio hits, and years of relentless touring, they’ve earned the right to skip the introductions and get straight to business.
Led by Sully Erna, Godsmack has always occupied an interesting space in rock music. Their sound is heavy without becoming inaccessible, aggressive without sacrificing melody, and polished without losing its edge.
It’s a combination that has served them remarkably well.
Erna’s vocals have long been one of the band’s defining characteristics. There’s a commanding quality to his delivery, a blend of grit, control, and attitude that fits the music perfectly.
And the music itself?
It hits hard.
The guitars have weight, the low end provides plenty of muscle, and the arrangements leave enough room for each element to make its presence known. It’s the kind of sound that works particularly well in a live setting, where the physical impact of the music becomes part of the experience.
What impressed me most was the band’s approach to the performance. There was no sense that they needed to prove anything. No unnecessary theatrics designed to distract from the songs. Just a veteran rock act doing what it has spent decades learning to do exceptionally well.
Play the music. Deliver the hits. Give the audience what they came for.
It’s a simple formula, although plenty of bands seem determined to complicate it.
Godsmack clearly hasn’t forgotten what works.
A Photographer’s Perspective
From the photo pit, Godsmack was exactly the kind of band you hope to photograph.
There’s something special about capturing a veteran performer who understands how to work a stage. The movements are intentional, the energy feels natural, and the connection between the musicians and the audience creates those moments that make concert photography worthwhile.
For me, the challenge was a little different than usual.
I wasn’t just watching for the right lighting, the perfect expression, or that split second when everything comes together in the frame. I was also keeping a close eye on how much energy I had left.
Not exactly the creative challenge I was hoping for.
But once the music started, instinct took over.
Years of photographing concerts have taught me that you don’t always have time to think about what you’re doing. You anticipate, react, and trust your experience.
And despite everything leading up to the show, I managed to come away with some shots I’m genuinely happy with.
That’s the funny thing about this business. Sometimes the nights that require the most effort end up producing some of the most satisfying results.
Worth the Price of Admission, and Then Some
After finishing our time in the pit, we made our way back to the VIP area, gathered our belongings, and called it a night.
Under different circumstances, I might have stayed longer, enjoyed more of the show, and spent additional time catching up with friends.
But I knew my limits, and I’d already pushed them considerably further than planned.
The walk back to the car was a reminder that adrenaline is a wonderful thing, right up until it wears off.
By the time I headed home, I was exhausted.
And now, as I sit here putting these thoughts together, I’m definitely paying for the decision to go.
But would I do it again?
Probably.
Although I’d prefer to skip the whole being-sick-for-days part next time.
Dorothy delivered an outstanding opening performance, proving that great rock music still comes down to strong songwriting, exceptional musicianship, and a singer who knows how to command an audience.
Godsmack followed with a powerful, hit-filled performance that reminded everyone why they’ve remained a force in rock music for more than 30 years.
And PNC Pavilion provided the perfect setting for an evening that balanced the intimacy of a smaller venue with the impact of a major rock production.
As for me, I got to photograph some fellow Bostonians, spend time with good friends, and capture some great moments along the way.
Was it one of the most physically challenging nights I’ve had covering a concert? Absolutely.
Was it worth it?
Without question.
Because sometimes the show must go on. Even when your body would strongly prefer that it didn’t.