Pantera Shook Santa Clara to Its Core with a Bone-Crushing “Walk” at Levi’s Stadium 2025

Levi’s Stadium was still glowing from the sunset when Pantera stormed the stage at 7 p.m. sharp. As part of Metallica’s M72 World Tour stop in Santa Clara, the band wasn’t just a warm-up—they were a seismic event. More than 60,000 fans, many in vintage Pantera tees, erupted as Phil Anselmo stepped up to the mic and declared, “Y’all ready for some groove metal?”

While Metallica headlined the evening, the moment Pantera’s reunion lineup took their positions, something shifted. This wasn’t a nostalgia act. Anselmo and Rex Brown were joined by Zakk Wylde on guitar and Charlie Benante on drums, and the chemistry was explosive. There was no hesitation—just four musicians playing like their lives depended on it.

They opened with “A New Level,” but the anticipation in the crowd hinted at something bigger. When the unmistakable opening riff of “Walk” thundered through the stadium, the place detonated. Every seat from the pit to the top row shook with energy as fans screamed the iconic line, “RE-SPECT! WALK!” with such force, it nearly drowned out Anselmo himself.

Santa Clara marked a full-circle moment. Pantera hadn’t played a full set in the Bay Area since 2001. That show, just before their split, was shrouded in tension. In 2025, however, they returned not as broken parts, but as a reborn force paying tribute to legacy, power, and brotherhood.

Originally released in 1992 during the grunge explosion, “Walk” stood defiantly apart with its down-tuned swagger and chest-pounding confidence. It was a message to those who doubted, disrespected, or dismissed. Decades later, that same message rang louder than ever in a world saturated with digital drama and keyboard critics.

Before tearing into “5 Minutes Alone,” the band paused for a deeply moving video tribute to Dimebag Darrell and Vinnie Paul. The stadium fell nearly silent as old footage played, with fans holding up lighters and phones in reverence. When the next riff hit, it was like thunder shaking the clouds from the sky.

From the snake pit, crystal-clear 4K phone footage captured moments lost to those in the upper decks—Zakk Wylde switching guitars mid-song, Charlie Benante pointing his drumsticks at a military vet in the front row, and Rex Brown smiling every time the crowd nailed the chant in perfect sync. Every frame became instant gold for fans online.

Wylde’s performance walked a razor’s edge. He honored Dimebag’s tone and technique while injecting his own flair—especially on the solo, where he delivered searing pinch harmonics that split the sky. The crowd responded with massive cheers, and Anselmo shouted, “That’s Zakk paying RESPECT!” before slamming back into the final chorus.

Charlie Benante’s drumming was a masterclass in control and destruction. He kept the groove tight but modernized the feel with thrash-infused accents. Each double-kick hit like a body blow, and the low end rumbled through the stadium seats, creating a physical experience that left no ribcage unshaken.

Anselmo’s voice, weathered but commanding, carried with it a mix of grit and wisdom. Before the final breakdown, he leaned into the mic and shouted, “This song’s about standing your ground—whether you’re 19 or 91. When I say ‘Are you talking to me?’ I want you to scream it like your soul’s on fire!” And they did.

During the midsection of “Walk,” the LED screens displayed archival footage of Dimebag in his prime—shirtless, grinning, shredding. The juxtaposition of the past and present made it feel like he was still on stage. Wylde turned toward the screen, nodded, and hit a squeal that seemed to summon lightning.

The mosh pit was pure generational chaos—older fans from the ‘90s mixing with kids who had discovered Pantera through TikTok or Guitar Hero. Fathers lifted their sons on their shoulders. Security had to form human chains to guide the pit safely. Somehow, in all that intensity, everyone watched out for each other.

The production team made sure this wasn’t just loud—it was pristine. The sound was meticulously engineered, allowing every downstroke, every snarl, every scream to cut through cleanly. No echoes, no slop—just groove metal precision. Even fans in the back row could feel the pulse in their chest like a war drum.

Comparisons to Pantera’s legendary 1992 Monsters of Rock set in Brazil were inevitable. There, over 100,000 fans roared. In Santa Clara, 60,000 gave them a standing ovation that felt just as massive. This wasn’t Pantera in their prime—it was Pantera resurrected, rebuilt, and roaring with purpose.

As the final notes of “Walk” rang out, Phil Anselmo walked to the edge of the stage, placed his hand over his heart, and said, “Thank you for keeping this alive.” The crowd responded with one last chant—“WALK ON HOME, BOY!”—as if to say the spirit of Pantera had never left. And in that moment, it truly hadn’t.