From Ashes to New: Factory Theatre, Sydney

Here’s a concert to drag me out of the week’s exhaustion that has been exposing the scars that I’m hiding, forcing me to confront my reflections and rise above them.

From Ashes to New are back on Australian soil, and this time they are bringing their debut standalone headline tour to celebrate their 2026 album, Reflections. After first visiting for Good Things Festival in 2024, alongside intimate sideshows in Sydney and Melbourne, the Pennsylvania rockers return with a whole new batch of songs and plenty of momentum. Having caught their Sydney sideshow at Crowbar on Tuesday 10 December 2024, I am keen to hear what this next chapter brings.

Founded in Pennsylvania in 2013 by rapper and vocalist Matt Brandyberry, the band find a defining new chapter when Danny Case and drummer Mat Madiro join in 2017, forming the core alongside Brandyberry and guitarist Lance Dowdle. That core carries them through The Future, Panic and Blackout, while their current five-piece also includes guitarist Jimmy Bennett.

The years since that reshuffle bring some serious achievements. “Nightmare” reaches the Top 5 at rock radio, while “Hate Me Too” becomes their fifth Top 10 rock-radio single and earns a place among Loudwire's most-played rock-radio songs of 2023. Their touring takes them alongside acts including Shinedown, Three Days Grace and Motionless in White, with festival appearances at Welcome to Rockville and Sonic Temple helping build that international presence.

Now Reflections adds another milestone, with “Drag Me” becoming their first No. 1 at Active Rock radio. All of that makes this return feel like a band stepping into a bigger chapter, even if tonight's room remains wonderfully intimate. On Friday 9 October, I am at Sydney's Factory Theatre, ready for an arena-sized dose of rock at much closer range.

From my spot at the far-right end of the front barrier, From Ashes to New hit the Factory Theatre with the kind of energy that makes me wonder how this room is supposed to contain them. I am away from the centre, where the crowd's physical energy is concentrated, but there is no escaping the force coming off that stage. There is no gentle warm-up, no easing into the night and certainly no waiting for the audience to get comfortable. From the moment the set kicks off, the band are giving us everything, both musically and physically.

The stage is alive with movement, and the interaction starts immediately. Danny Case and Matt Brandyberry keep connecting with the crowd throughout the set, making this feel like something we are part of rather than something we are simply watching. At one point, a band member even reaches out and takes a business card from me. It is a small moment, but one that sums up what I love about experiencing a band like this in an intimate venue. There is an actual connection across that barrier.

While the band are already firing on all cylinders, the crowd take a little longer to find their physical groove. The enthusiasm is there, especially in the singing, but the movement feels a little held back during the earlier part of the set. It is like a flame beginning as a flicker, gradually catching until, somewhere around the halfway point, the whole thing becomes an inferno.

Metaphorically, of course. Thankfully, nobody needs to evacuate the Factory Theatre, and the only thing catching fire tonight is the crowd's energy.

When “Panic” drops, that energy really breaks loose. The title track from the band's 2020 album has a strong Linkin Park feel to my ears, which is absolutely my kind of thing. I think back to interviewing Danny in 2020 and our discussion about the album drawing inspiration from the early-2000s nu-metal and alternative scene, including bands such as Linkin Park, Papa Roach and System of a Down. Standing here with “Panic” coming at me, I can hear exactly why that conversation sticks with me.

A couple of crowd surfers also make an appearance as the song sets things off. Thankfully, they are nowhere near my spot at the far right of the barrier. I am not smack bang in the middle of the crowd's physical epicentre, which suits me just fine, because… I F***** hate crowd surfers. Long-time readers probably know that line is coming before I even get to it, but some things never change! There are no incidents around me, so I get to enjoy the song without suddenly becoming somebody's landing pad. The band are already bringing enough heaviness without somebody delivering an unexpected boot to go with it.

From here, the audience's physical energy feels properly unleashed, and the band harness it brilliantly. The interaction, the movement and the music all feed into one another. The band never seem to lose the intensity they bring from the start; now the crowd are meeting them with more of their own.

It does make me wonder whether “Panic”, along with another particularly upbeat number that gets us jumping and taking part in call-and-response, might work even better earlier in the set. Those moments really amplify the room's physical response. Bringing one of them forward could potentially light that fuse sooner.

That is a thought about the pacing, though, because vocally the audience are involved all night. From my spot at the barrier, I can hear the crowd singing every single word to every single song. It is not just the older favourites getting that response, either. Even newer songs such as “Drag Me” and “Die for You”, from the band's 2026 album Reflections, which they are touring in support of, have the whole room singing along.

There is no sense of the new material being a breather while everyone waits for something familiar. These songs already feel firmly embedded in the audience, and hearing that level of recognition raises the atmosphere exponentially. Whatever comes our way, the voices around me are right there with it.

That is what makes the earlier restraint in the crowd's movement so interesting: people might take a little longer to physically let loose, but they are connected to the music from the outset. By the time that movement catches up with the singing, the room feels enormous. There is a difference between a crowd that knows a couple of singles and one that feels invested in the whole set, and tonight firmly feels like the latter.

The scale of the performance is striking. This has the presence and ambition of an arena rock show, packed into the much more intimate Factory Theatre. I can imagine this energy filling the Hordern Pavilion or a larger arena. Based on what I am experiencing here, I would be very surprised if their next visit has them playing a room this small.

As much as I am enjoying the performance, the sound balance does have its challenges from where I am standing. To my ears, the Factory has a close, contained sound tonight, without the spacious resonance I associate with a bigger room. Yet the volume feels as though everything is being pushed to the maximum.

The low end and drums dominate my listening position, while the vocals and lead guitar have to work harder to find their place. If I put numbers to how the balance feels, rather than pretend I am measuring the mixing desk, the drums and bass are at 100 per cent, the vocals around 80 and the lead guitar closer to 70. Personally, I want the vocals leading at 100, with the instruments sitting just underneath, supporting them without swallowing the detail.

I know the front barrier is not always the ideal listening position, but it is still part of the audience experience. I am wearing my custom-moulded music earplugs, and I want the mix to feel enjoyable here as well as it does closer to the sound desk.

Danny's vocals are powerful, with plenty of force behind both the melodic singing and the screams. The issue is how they sit against everything else. There are moments when that voice feels like a phoenix trying to rise from the ashes, only to have the weight of the drums and low end make keeping flight a little harder than it should be. The power is there; I just want a clearer path for it to soar.

Between songs, I find myself briefly taking one earplug out to properly catch what the band are saying. I do not want to miss those conversations, particularly when they give us such a personal insight into why they are here. Once the music starts again, that earplug goes straight back in. At this volume, leaving it out is hardly an appealing option.

The balance is enough to deserve mentioning, but it does not undo how much I am enjoying the show. A little more clarity would let the strength of this performance come through even better.

One of the most meaningful moments comes when the band tell us about the financial uncertainty surrounding this Australian tour. According to what they share from the stage, they are warned that coming here may be too expensive and could mean losing money. Their response, as I understand it, is essentially: fuck it, we want to come anyway.

I cannot speak to the tour's actual finances, but hearing that willingness to make the trip, even with the possibility of being out of pocket, means something. To me, that is the heart of rock and roll: loving the music, loving the fans and wanting to bring people together enough to take the chance.

Tonight is part of From Ashes to New's debut standalone Australian headline tour, but it is not their first visit to our shores. They previously come out for Good Things Festival in 2024, and I catch their Sydney sideshow at Crowbar on Tuesday 10 December that year. Standing here at the Factory Theatre, I love having that earlier experience to connect with this return.

Hearing their commitment to making this tour happen brings back one particular memory from that Crowbar show: founding rapper Matt Brandyberry opening up about the life he comes from, and what music means to him.

As I remember his account, Matt describes seeing the inside of a jail cell more times than he can count in his younger years. He speaks about people writing him off, expecting him to go nowhere and seeing a future defined by addiction and trouble rather than anything he might achieve. It is a confronting thing to hear from someone standing on a stage, connecting with people on the other side of the world.

What really stays with me, though, is the way he describes finding music. It gives him an outlet for what he is going through, a form of therapy and a way out of the path people expect him to keep following. There is something powerful about hearing that from the person himself. Those expectations do not get to be the final word on his life.

Standing here tonight, that memory gives the songs another layer. The words about struggle, real life and finding a way forward carry the weight of the story I remember him sharing. I love knowing that the music connecting this room also helps someone creating it find a different direction.

It gives the name From Ashes to New a much more personal meaning for me, too. Matt's account is about finding a way to rise out of the mess and build something new, and now that music brings all of us together here in Sydney. That is a pretty bloody special thing to be part of.

Alongside what the band tell us tonight about making this tour happen despite the financial uncertainty, it reinforces why their attitude means so much to me. The love for music and the people it reaches feels central to everything they are giving us. This is the heart behind all that noise, and it makes the connection across the barrier feel even stronger.

Tonight, the band also tell us they are exhausted after flying in from America only the day before. You would hardly pick it from the energy they pour into the performance, although I do wonder whether it helps explain the shorter set.

I have been told to expect around 90 minutes, but the show wraps up at approximately an hour and ten, without an encore. My suspicion is that the fatigue and jet lag may be a factor, but that is my interpretation, rather than a reason the band confirm for finishing when they do.

From where I stand, the ending does not seem to leave the room feeling cheated. Around me, I do not hear angry demands for more or a sense that the band have failed to deliver. I feel satisfied, and the response around me suggests I am not alone.

There is one disappointment for me, though: my favourite From Ashes to New song, “Scars That I'm Hiding”, does not make the set. Naturally, I would love to hear it, and its absence leaves that one little itch unscratched. But with the whole show delivering this much energy, connection and the feeling of an intimate stadium rock show, I cannot let one missing favourite ruin the experience. Not hearing it is forgivable… just this time, guys, just this time.

A longer set and a more balanced mix would certainly be welcome, but neither stops tonight from being a bloody good show. From my place at the barrier, I get the force of an arena-sized performance, the connection of an intimate room and a band whose commitment feels every bit as powerful as their music.

Until next time, keep a Keen Eye 4 Concerts.