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Friday night in Syracuse felt like a time machine had been fucked with, because Creed’s “Summer of ’99” tour blasted through the Empower Federal Credit Union Amphitheater like a boom box on steroids. From the second opener Mammoth WVH hit the stage at 7:00 PM to frontman Scott Stapp belting out “Bullets” at 9:10 PM, it was a night drenched in nostalgia, sweat, and rock-star bravado.

Local rock die-hards and band tee donning Millennials packed the amphitheater, a 17,500 capacity lakeside venue that’s become a go-to for summer anthems. Doors popped open at 5:30 PM, and by the time Daughtry rolled in with a solid 50 minute support set, including a crowd pleasing “Home” and “It’s Not Over,” the level of hype was already hovering near critical mass. But the real surprise? None other than Anthrax frontman and Syracuse native Joey Belladonna walked on stage to tear the roof off with a cover of Journey’s “Separate Ways” alongside Daughtry. His vocals were razor sharp, old school metal in all the right ways, and it was a hometown hero moment that hit harder than most headliners ever could.

The moment Stapp took the mic, it was clear Creed came to do more than check a box, they came to dominate. Their Syracuse set launched with “Bullets” and hurtled through “Ode,” “Torn,” “Are You Ready?,” and “Never Die,” before sliding into the mandatory nostalgia zones of “My Own Prison” and “Wrong Way.”

They hammered home fan favorites like “Faceless Man” and “What If,” peaking with incendiary renditions of “With Arms Wide Open” and “Higher.” The encore was a masterstroke, “One Last Breath” and “My Sacrifice” landed like emotional gut punches, sending the crowd into a unified chorus that echoed across Onondaga Lake.

What made it more than a nostalgia trip was how Creed leaned into their grown up swagger. Stapp, looking crisp and commanding, owned the night with showmanship that felt earned, not forced. Fellow members Mark Tremonti, Brian Marshall, and Scott Phillips locked in tight, laying down riffs and backbeat like the mid 2000s never ended. This felt more documentary than tribute, proof that Creed, post hiatus, can still belt it out like heroes.

Setlist veterans knew what to expect, “Bullets,” “Torn,” “My Own Prison,” “One,” “With Arms Wide Open,” “Higher.” But the energy wasn’t stale, the band peppered in “Faceless Man,” “Say I,” and “Never Die” to remind the old guard, and curious kids, why they cared in the first place.

It wasn’t all sun kissed soft rock vibes, either. The lighting rig painted the stage with punchy, neon brights and deep shadows that fed the theatricality of moments like “Are You Ready?” Production spared no effort, it looked, felt, and sounded like a mid tier arena, not a summertime amphitheater tucked by a lakeshore.

That said, the night wasn’t perfect. A few lines were pitchy, Stapp’s voice occasionally wavered, but those cracks only added character. It reminded everyone that these were real people with real pipes, not holograms or autotuned avatars. And in rock, that matters.

Ticket pricing? The secondary market ranged from $154 for nosebleeds to north of $200 for decent seats, scalpers were angry, Ticketmaster apparently had some at about $38 face, but let’s be real, you paid for this. It was worth it.

Look, critics often shit on Creed for being “too earnest,” “too mainstream,” or “whiny.” Not Friday night. What happened was earnest, tight, and very much at home with itself. They weren’t chasing cool, they were owning what made them mass appealing, big riffs, big choruses, and big feels.

If you missed it, don’t beat yourself up, but maybe rethink your priorities. Creed’s “Summer of ’99” tour isn’t just a retro cash grab or a Spotify core nostalgia reel, it’s a reminder of a time when rock was loud, emotional, and unapologetically earnest. This wasn’t a band going through the motions, this was a full scale resurrection with the amps cranked and the crowd all in. It hit different, in the best possible way. If there’s a stop within a 100 mile radius, get your ass there. Creed’s back, and they aren’t just revisiting the past, they’re reclaiming it.