Five-thirty is an awkward start time for these things: too early for the 9-to-5 crowd, who have to cram travel and pre-partying into a mere 30 minutes. While the proletariat were grudgingly forking over $15 for parking (Camden would rather you think of it as a cover charge to an exclusive macadam BYOB), hardcore Slayer fans who had skipped work and began tailgating at the crack of dawn were basking in the fury of Thine Eyes Bleed. The pit swelled to capacity for Mastodon, and things really got cooking for Children of Bodom and their arsenal of jagged guitars.

Merchandising masters Lamb of God (ye of the $10 license-plate frames) received loud accolades, but the "Slayer!" battle cries raging through every corner of the Tweeter Center (even the bathroom attendants lent their voices to the swelling chorus reverberating off the porcelain urinals) told the tale of the undisputed kings of speed metal. Slayer have reigned atop thrash for so long that bassist/vocalist Tom Araya can get away with violating the "don't wear your own T-shirt" law. Save for hanging the Marshall Stax in an inverted cross formation, Slayer refrained from cartoony Marilyn Manson-type theatrics, and performed a dead-serious and uncompromising exploration of the dark side. Concluding with "Angel of Death," Slayer loosed their fans into the night to make their own deals with the RiverLink Ferry, Delaware Port Authority, NJ Transit and other such denizens of the underworld.