Foo Fighters
Thirty years of Dave Grohl turning grief and volume into the most reliably cathartic rock show going — a hits catalog three hours deep, played like it's still a club gig.
Welcome to Rockville 2026 has already wrapped — but you can still dig through the lineup and find the acts you would have loved.
Four days of rock and metal at the Daytona International Speedway — Foo Fighters, Guns N' Roses, My Chemical Romance and Bring Me The Horizon over a 156-act bill.
Welcome to Rockville took over the Daytona International Speedway for four days in May with 156 acts — the largest bill Danny Wimmer Presents puts on all year. Foo Fighters and Guns N' Roses co-headlined, with My Chemical Romance and Bring Me The Horizon taking the other two nights.
The depth is the reason to care. Below the headliners sat Five Finger Death Punch, The Offspring, Breaking Benjamin, A Day To Remember, Godsmack, Staind, Parkway Drive, Lamb of God, Yellowcard, Rise Against, All Time Low and Alice Cooper — any of which would headline a smaller festival. Underneath that ran a full extreme-metal bill: Amon Amarth, Behemoth, Lorna Shore, Carcass, Kreator, Napalm Death, Dying Fetus, Suffocation, Immolation and Deicide.
It also functions as a scene reunion. Sleeping with Sirens, Mayday Parade, Underoath, Anberlin, blessthefall, From First To Last, Senses Fail, The Wonder Years and a Flyleaf set with Lacey Sturm all played, alongside Jason Bonham's Led Zeppelin Evening and Zakk Wylde's Sabbath tribute.
Expect metal, rock, hard rock and pop-punk across 156 acts.
Foo Fighters and Guns N' Roses co-headlined, with My Chemical Romance and Bring Me The Horizon headlining the other two nights.
May 7–10, 2026, at the Daytona International Speedway in Daytona Beach, Florida.
156 across the four days — the largest Danny Wimmer Presents bill of the year.
Yes. All three are Danny Wimmer Presents festivals, which is why headliners and much of the undercard rotate between them across a single year.
Lollapalooza lineup →Hopscotch lineup →The Fest lineup →Rebellion lineup →III Points lineup →Lost Lands lineup →Louder Than Life lineup →All Points East lineup →Aftershock lineup →End of the Road lineup →ARC lineup →Warped Tour Orlando lineup →Austin City Limits lineup →Reading & Leeds lineup →EDC Orlando lineup →Bourbon & Beyond lineup →Riot Fest lineup →Outside Lands lineup →Green Man lineup →HARD Summer lineup →Osheaga lineup →Bass Canyon lineup →Hulaween lineup →Honcho Campout lineup →Portola lineup →Furnace Fest lineup →Shaky Knees lineup →Sick New World Texas lineup →Hinterland lineup →All Things Go DMV lineup →Raleigh Wide Open lineup →Oceans Calling lineup →Darker Waves lineup →Bumbershoot lineup →Ohana lineup →Sea.Hear.Now lineup →Iron Blossom lineup →All Things Go NYC lineup →
Thirty years of Dave Grohl turning grief and volume into the most reliably cathartic rock show going — a hits catalog three hours deep, played like it's still a club gig.
Concept-album maximalists who treated emo as opera — marching-band drums, guitar harmonies, and a costume for every era, theatrical to the last note.
The classic-lineup reunion long outlasted anyone's expectations, and the three-hour sets still get through most of the canon — Slash solos and all.
Playing debut Count Your Blessings front to back for its 20th — a return to the feral deathcore they spent the next two decades outgrowing.
Hardcore's joyful crossover kings — dreamy interludes, stage dives, total communion, and a crowd that moves as one.
Thirty years of hooks that snuck genuine punk speed onto daytime radio without anyone noticing — the catalog is basically all singles.
Pennsylvania's reliably heavy melodic rock — brooding verses, enormous choruses, and a catalogue that never chased a trend because the formula never stopped working.
The pop-punk/metalcore hybrid blueprint — mosh-call breakdowns and sugar-rush hooks in equal measure, delivered with beach balls, confetti cannons, and total arena confidence.
Violin-powered pop-punk — 'Ocean Avenue' at the actual ocean, and the violin still carries the hooks.
Chicago's melodic-hardcore conscience — two decades of fists-up anthems delivered with undimmed conviction, 'Savior' still closing rooms.
Maryland pop-punk heroes — two decades of fast, funny, chorus-first anthems, and 'Dear Maria' hits different in home waters.
Horror-movie theatrics welded to industrial-tinged metalcore — corpse paint, synths, and choruses built for an arena singalong, Halloween as a year-round genre.
The original shock-rock showman — guillotines, snakes, straitjackets, and 'School's Out' forever, still running rock's greatest vaudeville horror show six decades in.
Horror-movie metalcore staged as full theatre — every song a slasher reference, every set closer to a production than a gig.
Sci-fi concept-rock saga with arena hooks — 'Welcome Home' indeed, the Amory Wars mythology powering some of modern prog's biggest singalongs.
Alex Terrible's subterranean roar over deathcore built like siege machinery — as much spectacle as band, and heavier than both.
Kellin Quinn's falsetto-fronted post-hardcore — Warped Tour royalty matured, with the high notes fully intact and scene-era devotion still filling rooms.
Masked LA rap-rock six-piece with six vocalists and a knack for the shout-along that outlives the criticism — critic-proof and pit-approved.
Zakk Wylde's biker-metal brotherhood — pinch harmonics for days, Sabbath-weight riffs, and guitar solos treated as main events.
Bluesy, scuffed-up rock delivered with a chip on the shoulder and a genuine gift for a chorus — grit and hooks at festival scale.
Swancore's funk-flecked flagship — technicolor riffs and dual-vocal whiplash, a prolific catalog that never stopped mutating.
Three sisters from Monterrey out-rocking everyone — Mexico's hard-rock pride, a family band that grew into arena-grade virtuosity.
Polish blackened death metal staged like liturgy — corpse paint, fire, and riffs with genuine architectural heft, led by Nergal's decades-long war on the sacred.
Metalocalypse's cartoon death-metal band, real and devastating live — Brendon Small's shred played against the animation at brutal volume.
Zakk Wylde playing Sabbath songs with reverence and absurd volume — a tribute act with a guitar hero attached, pinch harmonics included.
'They're Only Chasing Safety' to now — metalcore's restless innovators, reinventing loudly in every era, and the reinventions keep landing.
Andy Biersack's theatrical goth-metal, aged from scene lightning rod into a band that just writes big rock songs — warpaint optional, choruses mandatory.
Warped Tour survivors trading in the specific ache of a song you loved at sixteen — 'Miserable at Best' still empties the tear ducts.
Venice crossover legends — 'Institutionalized' and a pit that never ages, Cyco Mike still leading the charge.
Space-suit cinematic rock — sci-fi lore with radio-metal hooks, a full 'demonstration' rather than a mere concert.
Spooky-kid nu-metal with detuned bounce and a goth streak the genre mostly abandoned — 'Loco'-era heaviness back from the grave.
Lajon Witherspoon's soul-trained voice over grinding alt-metal — the reason they outlasted the scene, and the warmest crowd in heavy music.
Pop-punk lifers best known for an acoustic song that ate the world for a summer — 'Hey There Delilah' and sturdier rock behind it.
Seattle's funk-flecked pop-metalcore — groove first, breakdowns second, and falsetto hooks the scene didn't see coming.
Moody, bass-heavy alt-metal that trades breakdowns for slow-building dread and falsetto — 'FEEL NOTHING' the crossover moment.
Thirty years of blunt-force positivity — Jamey Jasta shouting self-reliance over riffs engineered to move a room sideways, hardcore's most dependable motivational speaker.
'Check Yes Juliet' — MySpace-era pop-punk sunshine, Florida warmth that never curdled, and the chorus still checks yes.
Swiss beatdown with a genuinely unsettling vocal performance sitting on top of the chug — Europe's heaviest recent export.
DONTTRUSTME and the rest of the MySpace-era catalog, played fully self-aware — neon electro-rap chaos that has aged into a gleeful, shout-along riot live.
Gothic-horror black metal with orchestration, shrieks, and a theatrical streak a mile wide — extreme metal's most committed haunted-house act.
Pop-punk that grew up in public — suburban specifics rendered with novelistic detail, Dan Campbell narrating adulthood in real time.
MCR, Thursday, and Circa Survive members' supergroup — urgent, veteran post-hardcore played like a first band, not a side project.
OC metalcore originators — 'Lip Gloss and Black' nostalgia with new-era polish, from a band that helped write the genre's melodic playbook in the first place.
Clean-and-scream metalcore from the Rise Records boom, played with more muscle than nostalgia — Phoenix scene veterans who kept the choruses enormous.
Mid-2000s screamo whose most famous alumnus left to become a dubstep producer — 'Dear Diary' drama that still hits the scene's pleasure centers.
Classically trained Finnish cellists who started by covering Metallica and never stopped headbanging — symphonic metal where the strings genuinely shred.
New Jersey post-hardcore that got angrier and more political as it aged, not softer — Buddy Nielsen leading with total candor.
Sunny, hook-first pop-punk from the Chroma era, back when a big chorus was the entire argument — and theirs were bigger than most.
Maryland death metal built on impossible riffs and a groove that sneaks up under all the brutality — three-piece precision at full slam.
Knoxville deathcore that grew genuinely melodic without losing any of the weight underneath — Phil Bozeman's range now the band's superpower.
Swedish hardcore channelling panic-attack lyricism into riffs that feel physically claustrophobic — short songs, total impact.
Indian nu-metal with dhol and flute in the front of the mix — anti-hate lyrics over some of the heaviest grooves going.
Orlando pop-punk that pulls freely from hip-hop and hyperpop and refuses to pick a lane — genre loyalty traded for pure momentum.
Misanthropic eco-horror deathgrind, with Travis Ryan's clean-shriek hybrid doing something no other vocalist quite manages — apocalyptic themes played at extinction speed.
Texas metalcore with a big melodic centre — the kind of band that grows a stage size every touring cycle.
Utah deathcore that keeps finding new floors beneath the floor — a decade-plus of low-tuned punishment that only got nastier with time.
Forever attached to one enormous song, and entirely comfortable with that — 'Bodies' still detonates, and the rest of the set hits harder than expected.
Chris Jericho's rock band, long past the novelty stage and into a genuinely solid hard-rock catalogue — wrestling charisma applied to riffs.
The band that essentially invented grindcore, still politically ferocious and still capable of a song shorter than this sentence — Birmingham's loudest export.
LA industrial-tinged nu metal, mechanical and cold in a way most of their late-'90s peers never managed — machine-press riffs, still grinding.
Blackened deathcore with a genuine sense of atmosphere under all the tremolo and blastbeats — grim, symphonic weight that outlasts the genre's shock tactics.
Florida beatdown with no interest in subtlety — grief and rage compressed into two-minute assaults, as heavy emotionally as it is sonically.
Italian death metal with a full orchestral apparatus and an operatic streak played completely straight — tuxedos, corpse paint, and blastbeats in formalwear.

New York death metal originators, and the band most responsible for the breakdown as a technical device rather than a gimmick.
Melodic death metal about goblins, performed with a technical seriousness that makes the joke land harder — dancing goblin mascot included.
'End of Silence' anniversary — orchestral Christian metal's biggest debut, replayed in full with the strings intact.

