Playing debut Count Your Blessings front to back for its 20th — a return to the feral deathcore they spent the next two decades outgrowing.
Welcome to Rockville 2026 Lineup
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 2026 has already wrapped, but you can still dig through the lineup and find the acts you would have loved.
Find the acts you'll love at Welcome to Rockville
Name a few bands you love and we'll scout all 156 acts on the Welcome to Rockville bill for the ones you shouldn't miss.
About Welcome to Rockville 2026
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.
Welcome to Rockville 2026 lineup: all 156 acts
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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.
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.
Concept-album maximalists who treated emo as opera — marching-band drums, guitar harmonies, and a costume for every era, theatrical to the last note.
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.
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.
The original shock-rock showman — guillotines, snakes, straitjackets, and 'School's Out' forever, still running rock's greatest vaudeville horror show six decades in.
Maryland pop-punk heroes — two decades of fast, funny, chorus-first anthems, and 'Dear Maria' hits different in home waters.
Sweden's Viking metal institution — melodic death metal with longship stage sets and choruses a whole field roars back.
Brighton metalcore institution that rebuilt itself after the loss of founding drummer and chief songwriter Tom Searle, trading pit-focused aggression for something vast and cleanly engineered without losing the weight.
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.
Swedish band who wrap groove-heavy, melodeath-rooted metal in full theatrical costume and greasepaint, fronted by Johannes Eckerström's ringmaster showmanship.
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.
Zakk Wylde's biker-metal brotherhood — pinch harmonics for days, Sabbath-weight riffs, and guitar solos treated as main events.
Warpaint-and-leather anthems — the black parade's glammer cousins, stadium-goth choruses delivered with total conviction, eyeliner-era devotion still marching.
Pennsylvania's reliably heavy melodic rock — brooding verses, enormous choruses, and a catalogue that never chased a trend because the formula never stopped working.
Liverpool extremists who began in grindcore squalor and ended up writing some of the sharpest melodic riffs death metal has produced — decades on, still gleefully clinical.
Spooky-kid nu-metal with detuned bounce and a goth streak the genre mostly abandoned — 'Loco'-era heaviness back from the grave.
Sci-fi concept-rock saga with arena hooks — 'Welcome Home' indeed, the Amory Wars mythology powering some of modern prog's biggest singalongs.
Gothic-horror black metal with orchestration, shrieks, and a theatrical streak a mile wide — extreme metal's most committed haunted-house act.
Swancore's funk-flecked flagship — technicolor riffs and dual-vocal whiplash, a prolific catalog that never stopped mutating.
Metalocalypse's cartoon death-metal band, real and devastating live — Brendon Small's shred played against the animation at brutal volume.
Dorothy Martin's hard-rock vehicle, built on a voice with genuine blues grit — riffs that swing more than they thrash, with a streak of gothic Americana running underneath.
British power metal at absurd velocity — twin-guitar solos treated as an extreme sport, delivered with a knowing grin that never undercuts the musicianship.
Jesse Hughes and Josh Homme's greasy boogie-rock outfit, whose name is a joke at metal's expense — falsetto swagger, handclaps and riffs built for hips rather than mosh pits.
'90s space-rock that everyone else spent decades catching up to — heavy in texture rather than tempo, 'Fantastic Planet' the cult document.
Las Vegas heavyweights who turned groove-metal riffs and big clean choruses into one of modern hard rock's most reliable arena draws.
Flyleaf w/ Lacey Sturm
Sully Erna's New England hard rock institution, built on percussion-heavy grooves and drum duels — arena-scale riffs since the late '90s.
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.
Bluesy, scuffed-up rock delivered with a chip on the shoulder and a genuine gift for a chorus — grit and hooks at festival scale.
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.
Horror-movie metalcore staged as full theatre — every song a slasher reference, every set closer to a production than a gig.
Gothenburg institution who helped write the melodic death metal template in the early nineties, then spent decades restlessly pulling it toward melody, electronics and stadium-sized choruses.
John Bonham's son revisiting his father's catalogue from behind the kit, with a hand-picked band and family stories between the songs — reverent rather than nostalgic.
Mille Petrozza's Essen institution, a cornerstone of German thrash since the early '80s and still sharpening the same blade four decades on.
MCR, Thursday, and Circa Survive members' supergroup — urgent, veteran post-hardcore played like a first band, not a side project.
Richmond, Virginia's groove-metal institution, fronted by Randy Blythe's bark — riffs built for the kind of pit that clears a field.
New Jersey deathcore act whose blackened, orchestral extremity broke out of the underground once Will Ramos took the mic — vocal contortion as spectacle.
Warped Tour survivors trading in the specific ache of a song you loved at sixteen — 'Miserable at Best' still empties the tear ducts.
Long-running Texas metalcore outfit fronted by Matty Mullins, pairing breakdowns with unapologetically big clean choruses — durability in a genre that chews bands up.
Horror-movie theatrics welded to industrial-tinged metalcore — corpse paint, synths, and choruses built for an arena singalong, Halloween as a year-round genre.
Three brothers making self-described fashion-art rock, glam theatrics wrapped around garage riffs — a band with one of the most devoted young fanbases in rock.
Swiss beatdown with a genuinely unsettling vocal performance sitting on top of the chug — Europe's heaviest recent export.
Byron Bay metalcore institution of two decades, grown from hardcore roots into a pyro-heavy arena spectacle led by Winston McCall's roar.
Pop-punk lifers best known for an acoustic song that ate the world for a summer — 'Hey There Delilah' and sturdier rock behind it.
Sydney metalcore built on intricate, melodic riff architecture and hard clean-to-scream swings — precision-tooled heaviness with real emotional weight.
American artist who turned an uncanny, too-sweet internet persona into genuine metal credibility — bubblegum melody and blast beats sharing the same song.
Chicago's melodic-hardcore conscience — two decades of fists-up anthems delivered with undimmed conviction, 'Savior' still closing rooms.
Brazil's metal export to the world — Roots-era tribal thrash that reshaped heavy music's map.
Lajon Witherspoon's soul-trained voice over grinding alt-metal — the reason they outlasted the scene, and the warmest crowd in heavy music.
Montreal pop-punk that took the genre fully mainstream and has never pretended otherwise — 'I'm Just a Kid' now two generations deep.
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.
Aaron Lewis-fronted Massachusetts band whose heavy, confessional post-grunge dominated late-'90s and 2000s rock radio — reunited and playing loud again.
Space-suit cinematic rock — sci-fi lore with radio-metal hooks, a full 'demonstration' rather than a mere concert.
Albany pop-punk built on Derek DiScanio's sugar-rush hooks and guitar work tight enough to survive the breakdowns — a decade-plus of the genre's second wave.
Los Angeles industrial-metal machine behind the 'evil disco' churn of Wayne Static's era, carrying the catalogue forward with the surviving lineup and a masked frontman.
St. Louis screamo-adjacent survivors of the early-2000s emo boom, still built around gang vocals, acrobatic stage energy and 'Until the Day I Die.'
Venice crossover legends — 'Institutionalized' and a pit that never ages, Cyco Mike still leading the charge.
Plays guitar and screams over his own dubstep — the metal/bass crossover taken entirely seriously, pits and drops in equal measure.
San Diego rock band who spent the late nineties as a Christian-market act before crossing over to mainstream radio — 'Dare You to Move' still carries the room.
Seattle's funk-flecked pop-metalcore — groove first, breakdowns second, and falsetto hooks the scene didn't see coming.
Mongolian group welding throat singing and horsehead fiddle to heavy riffs, a sound they call hunnu rock — steppe tradition at stadium volume.
Thirty years of hooks that snuck genuine punk speed onto daytime radio without anyone noticing — the catalog is basically all singles.
Moody, bass-heavy alt-metal that trades breakdowns for slow-building dread and falsetto — 'FEEL NOTHING' the crossover moment.
Three sisters from Monterrey out-rocking everyone — Mexico's hard-rock pride, a family band that grew into arena-grade virtuosity.
Pop-punk that grew up in public — suburban specifics rendered with novelistic detail, Dan Campbell narrating adulthood in real time.
Hardcore's joyful crossover kings — dreamy interludes, stage dives, total communion, and a crowd that moves as one.
'They're Only Chasing Safety' to now — metalcore's restless innovators, reinventing loudly in every era, and the reinventions keep landing.
Atlanta rapper whose bellowed hooks and blown-out trap production defined a whole era of strip-club rap — 'Hard in da Paint,' 'No Hands,' and a voice built for shouting along.
'Check Yes Juliet' — MySpace-era pop-punk sunshine, Florida warmth that never curdled, and the chorus still checks yes.
Italian power metal built around dwarven mythology and marching, hammer-swinging choruses — folk melody welded to symphonic heft.
Alabama rapper who kept drifting toward country and rockabilly without ever losing the double-time flow — Slumerican to the bone.
Violin-powered pop-punk — 'Ocean Avenue' at the actual ocean, and the violin still carries the hooks.
Zakk Wylde playing Sabbath songs with reverence and absurd volume — a tribute act with a guitar hero attached, pinch harmonics included.
Tennessee-formed rock band who came up through the early-2000s post-grunge wave and have kept working steadily ever since — heavy riffs paired with big melodic choruses.
Afterlife
New England metalcore that leaned into melody early and got a career of radio singles out of it — trading screams for choruses at exactly the right moment.
Melbourne heavyweights central to metalcore's nu-metal turn — detuned bounce, panic chords and vocals that swing between screamed and spat.
Solo alt-metal built from bedroom production upward — nu-metal bounce with a genuinely modern pop ear, at the front of the scene's internet-native new wave.
Florida band that came up in the early-2000s Christian-adjacent alt-rock wave, split mid-decade and returned — Stephen Christian's high, urgent vocals over widescreen guitars.
Classically trained Finnish cellists who started by covering Metallica and never stopped headbanging — symphonic metal where the strings genuinely shred.
Archers
As You Were
Clean-and-scream metalcore from the Rise Records boom, played with more muscle than nostalgia — Phoenix scene veterans who kept the choruses enormous.
Indian nu-metal with dhol and flute in the front of the mix — anti-hate lyrics over some of the heaviest grooves going.
Florida beatdown with no interest in subtlety — grief and rage compressed into two-minute assaults, as heavy emotionally as it is sonically.
Chicago-area group that folded keyboards and sweeping synth leads into deathcore early, helping define the technical, djent-adjacent wing of the genre.
Toronto deathcore built on cinematic orchestration and manga-inspired imagery — pitch-shifted vocals and breakdowns arranged like a boss battle.
Started as screamo-electro, ended up as a straight dance act — both halves still show up live, MySpace nostalgia colliding with festival EDM.
Los Angeles hard rock built on Josh Todd's rasp and unreconstructed sleaze-rock riffing — a late-nineties holdout still trading in the same swagger.
Blackened deathcore with a genuine sense of atmosphere under all the tremolo and blastbeats — grim, symphonic weight that outlasts the genre's shock tactics.
Atlanta pop-punk lifers — 'Chroma' still hits like 2005, a front-to-back scene classic that never needed a follow-up to justify the devotion.
Brooklyn doom theater — Sabbath-lineage riffs delivered by a costumed cast with the Rat Queen out front.
Texas metalcore with a big melodic centre — the kind of band that grows a stage size every touring cycle.
Misanthropic eco-horror deathgrind, with Travis Ryan's clean-shriek hybrid doing something no other vocalist quite manages — apocalyptic themes played at extinction speed.
Utah deathcore that keeps finding new floors beneath the floor — a decade-plus of low-tuned punishment that only got nastier with time.
Colorblind
Guitar-forward alt-rock built on riffs that behave like hooks — a four-piece that sounds considerably larger.
Bay Area thrash veterans who started as teenagers in the early 80s — technical, fast, and still playing it at full tilt four decades on.
Florida death metal institution built on Glen Benton's blasphemy and relentless blast beats — founding members of the genre, unrepentant since 1987.
Seattle outfit founded by the Clark brothers, alternating crushing groove with big melodic choruses — faith-driven heaviness and a designer's eye for its own iconography.
Dez Fafara's post-Coal Chamber outfit, grinding groove metal under a bark of a vocal — two decades of relentless touring behind it.
Symphonic-leaning blackened deathcore assembled with orchestral bombast and technical density — extremity arranged like a film score.
Rotterdam crew working at the slowed-down, maximum-weight end of deathcore — riffs that lumber rather than sprint, built for sheer crushing pressure.
Edsel Dope's industrial nu-metal outfit, hardened on the late-'90s package-tour circuit — sneering electronics and a cover of 'You Spin Me Round' that outlasted its moment.
Forever attached to one enormous song, and entirely comfortable with that — 'Bodies' still detonates, and the rest of the set hits harder than expected.
Maryland death metal built on impossible riffs and a groove that sneaks up under all the brutality — three-piece precision at full slam.
Memphis hard-rock outfit out of the late-2000s active-rock wave — blunt riffs and hooks built for radio rotation.
Fame On Fire
Italian death metal with a full orchestral apparatus and an operatic streak played completely straight — tuxedos, corpse paint, and blastbeats in formalwear.
Chris Jericho's rock band, long past the novelty stage and into a genuinely solid hard-rock catalogue — wrestling charisma applied to riffs.
Nashville rock band from the late-2000s post-grunge wave, back after a hiatus with the same big-chorus instincts intact.
Mid-2000s screamo whose most famous alumnus left to become a dubstep producer — 'Dear Diary' drama that still hits the scene's pleasure centers.
Star Wars scores rearranged as instrumental progressive metal and performed in full character costume — a novelty premise executed with real technical chops.
The duo two Fever 333 members started after that band ended — hardcore, electronics and no genre loyalty whatsoever.
If Not For Me
New Jersey nu-metal survivors who built their sound on Latin percussion and layered rhythm — groove-first, and heavier than the era's radio fare.
Death metal institution running since 1986 on dissonant, gravity-defying riffs and Ross Dolan's granite bellow — uncompromising across four decades.
Moldovan band fronted by Lena Scissorhands, whose switching between clean singing, rapped cadences and full-throat screams anchors their groove-heavy metal.
Japanese visual kei group active since 2013, welding digitally processed heaviness to full theatrical presentation — costume and choreography played entirely straight.
Kill The Robot
Ladrones
Orlando pop-punk that pulls freely from hip-hop and hyperpop and refuses to pick a lane — genre loyalty traded for pure momentum.
Perth deathcore act that has folded symphonic keyboards and clean vocals into its brutality since 2009 — melody used as pressure, not relief.
The band that essentially invented grindcore, still politically ferocious and still capable of a song shorter than this sentence — Birmingham's loudest export.
Melodic death metal about goblins, performed with a technical seriousness that makes the joke land harder — dancing goblin mascot included.
Netherwalker
South Florida crew who came up in the nu-metal years and simply never stopped touring — Elias Soriano's bark over groove-heavy riffing, two decades deep.
Not Enough Space
NVSN
Platinum Moon
Downtuned riffs and half-rapped menace from nu-metal's major-label boom years, running in fits and starts until the band finally called it quits in 2015.
Self-described humorcore: deadpan songs about beer, food and workplace misery, played with enough genuine heaviness that the joke never undercuts the riffs.
'End of Silence' anniversary — orchestral Christian metal's biggest debut, replayed in full with the strings intact.
Memphis band from the nu-metal boom whose riff-and-hook formula outlasted the trend that produced it — three decades of rap-inflected hard rock.
New Jersey post-hardcore that got angrier and more political as it aged, not softer — Buddy Nielsen leading with total candor.
Australian trio who spent the late 2000s making radio-sized post-grunge — big choruses, bigger riffs, and a knack for songs that soundtrack a fight.
American deathcore at its most relentless — downtuned slams and guttural low end delivered with enough precision to keep the brutality legible.
Bay Area beatdown — short, heavy, and built entirely around the part where the room comes apart.
LA industrial-tinged nu metal, mechanical and cold in a way most of their late-'90s peers never managed — machine-press riffs, still grinding.
Stu Folsom's Las Vegas project welding thrash riffs to metallic hardcore, wrapped in outlaw-Western imagery and desert dread rather than the usual genre furniture.
New York death metal originators, and the band most responsible for the breakdown as a technical device rather than a gimmick.
Long-running American pop-punk act whose late-90s and early-2000s run made them fixtures of the skate-punk era, still touring on those hooks.
The Haunt
Florida family band fronted by Anastasia Grace Elliot, pairing alt-rock hooks with a heavily stylised dark-pop presentation.
The Paradox
Jordan Witzigreuter's solo pop project, born out of the late-2000s scene and still turning out bright, hook-first synth-pop.
Phoenix metalcore fronted by Telle Smith, alternating clean choruses with breakdowns and drifting toward electronics as the years pass.
Melbourne five-piece who traded straight metalcore for something sleeker and more atmospheric — riffs built around croon-to-scream dynamics.
Swedish hardcore channelling panic-attack lyricism into riffs that feel physically claustrophobic — short songs, total impact.
Sydney deathcore veterans with a bottom-heavy, unrelenting attack — two decades of blast beats and breakdowns delivered without a hint of levity.
Nu-metal revivalism from a newer solo act, leaning on the genre's bounce rather than its irony — self-made and rising.
Knoxville deathcore that grew genuinely melodic without losing any of the weight underneath — Phil Bozeman's range now the band's superpower.
Nashville punk trio with a drummer-vocalist front and centre and no interest in polish — raw hooks played standing on the kit.
Ohio metalcore band that has spent well over a decade balancing screamed and sung vocals against faith-driven lyrics — heavy without the nihilism.
The headliners
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. Co-headlined the weekend, three decades into being the most dependable rock band alive.
My Chemical Romance — 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 theatrical heart of a generation's record collection, headlining Sunday.
Guns N' Roses — 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. The classic-lineup reunion, still getting through most of the canon.
Bring Me The Horizon — Playing debut Count Your Blessings front to back for its 20th — a return to the feral deathcore they spent the next two decades outgrowing. Started in deathcore, ended up between arena rock and hyperpop, headlining Saturday.
Up-and-comers to catch early
Winona Fighter — Nashville punk trio with a genuinely nasty streak and very short songs.
House of Protection — Post-hardcore from ex-Fever 333 members, restless and hard to pin down.
Castle Rat — Doom metal staged as full theatre, costumes and narrative included.
Amira Elfeky — Nu-metal-adjacent alt-rock with a much heavier live show than the records suggest.
Dead Poet Society — Blues-inflected alt-rock built around genuinely unusual guitar playing.
Thrown — Swedish hardcore about burnout, and one of the heaviest bands on the bill.
Snuffed On Sight — Bay Area beatdown with no interest in melody whatsoever.
Other acts worth planning around
Alice Cooper — The originator of rock theatre, still running the guillotine.
Amon Amarth — Viking death metal with a stage show to match the subject matter.
Yellowcard — The violin-led pop-punk band whose reunion turned out to have real staying power.
Welcome to Rockville 2026 lineup FAQ
Who headlined Welcome to Rockville 2026?
Foo Fighters and Guns N' Roses co-headlined, with My Chemical Romance and Bring Me The Horizon headlining the other two nights.
When and where was Welcome to Rockville 2026?
May 7–10, 2026, at the Daytona International Speedway in Daytona Beach, Florida.
How many bands played Welcome to Rockville 2026?
156 across the four days, the largest Danny Wimmer Presents bill of the year.
Is Welcome to Rockville related to Sonic Temple and Louder Than Life?
Yes. All three are Danny Wimmer Presents festivals, which is why headliners and much of the undercard rotate between them across a single year.
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