Have you ever watched someone in a Santa hat climb a Christmas tree to stage dive? Have you ever seen a teenager in Nightmare Before Christmas pajamas and a tinsel scarf eat it in a circle pit? This might sound like a joke, but at the second-annual Dying Wishmas—a micro-festival hosted by Portland’s premier metalcore act, Dying Wish—these sights are as common as sugarplum fairies dancing in your head. For the band, as well as the eight acts that joined them on this year’s bill, this was the kind of year-end, tour-end blowout that most acts only dream of orchestrating.

Conceived last year by Dying Wish as a remedy for how often bands skip hometown shows when on tour, the second year of their holiday rager was even bigger and more brutal. For seven hours on a chilly Friday in mid-December, a flurry of killer heavy acts from the Northwest and beyond made the Roseland stage their home, gleefully whipping the crowd into a constant frenzy. Local adoptees Gouge Away and Misery Whip shared the stage with Seattleites End of Dayz. Bay Area beasts Big Boy crushed it alongside Pennsylvania hardcore rap-rockers Gridiron. Nashville metalcore shredders Orthodox (a clear favorite, judging by the enthusiasm of the crowd before and after the set) sat comfortably on the bill next to English post-hardcore super-beings Static Dress. 

Only a few songs played throughout the slam dance celebrations broke the mold, making the day a gleeful endurance test—thankfully, though, the flavors on offer varied enough that the goal of preventing genre fatigue was more than met. Dying Wish proved to be excellent curators, too: Not a single act on the lineup was a dud. The buzz in the air grew, with people leaving the floor only to return carrying Gridiron and Static Dress merch. Openers get the short end of the stick all too often, this crowd seemed determined not to fall into that trap.

What could have caused some fatigue throughout the day was how rowdy the showcase was. When walking into the Roseland, a massive void opened in the middle of the main floor, full of young people doing spin kicks to Misery Whip. The Roseland is no stranger to moshing, but without a barricade to separate the stage from the crowd (and, thus, no security up front), members of the audience took any opportunity to stage dive and crowd surf to their hearts’ content. For anyone up in the balcony, it was probably a blast to watch. From the stage, it was like being front row at a GWAR show, minus the giant foam costumes and gallons of fake blood. Any resistance to being hit with other human beings was futile.

Early on, the singer of Boltcutter bellowed at the crowd to “BECOME! A FUCKING! PROBLEM!” Almost immediately, a teen leaped off the stage, crashing to the ground, unaware that you should probably wait for someone to catch you. Looking down at my phone for 30 seconds to make note of the moment, I was kicked in the arm by someone else leaping without looking. The sage wisdom of a friend echoed in my head with every backflip and foot-first dive: “Make yourself catchable, light, no dead weight, and position yourself to where you won’t hurt those who catch you.” Thankfully, nobody near me ran away covered in blood, and nobody got hauled off on a stretcher, so maybe the kids really are that hardcore.

If all of this talk of “the kids” and their “rowdiness” makes you think the show wasn’t a blast, think again. As the end of 2025 enters our field of vision, the allure of spending an entire day dodging elbows and circle pits is all too real. We don’t need to tell you the world is fucked-up right now, and while every metal/hardcore/punk show offers the chance to bash your body against your neighbor as a reminder that you’re a living, breathing human being, a whole day of it almost feels like therapy. The fact that so many acts on the lineup call the Northwest (or the West Coast) home, made Dying Wishmas feel like community catharsis with every guttural scream offering a tiny tribute to the sonic brutality we nurture here in Portland.

Of course, none of it would have happened without the main event, Dying Wish. How many other metalcore acts can boast that Santa Claus has introduced them? As the band took the stage—almost all of them bedecked in custom Dying Wish football jerseys—the anticipation growing all evening was ready to burst. As they kicked right into “I Don’t Belong Anywhere,” the opening track from this year’s Flesh Stays Together, the crowd’s full-force frenzy began. 

Even after a day of rock-solid hardcore acts, Dying Wish felt like a breath of fresh air, the point where heaviness and style and interminable stage presence meet. Singer Emma Boster (a fifth-generation Portlander, now living in Nashville) spent every moment she wasn’t singing or screaming with a massive, shit-eating grin plastered on her face, as though she couldn’t believe her dumb luck that her bands gets to do something this fun. Every other member of the band was just as magnetic, from co-singer/guitarist Sam Reynolds (whose imposing presence feels like the perfect counterbalance to Boster), to drummer Jeff Yambra, who performed from a platform covered in fake snow. 

Related: Read Holly Hazelwood's interview with Dying Wish's Emma Boster.

Though there were no ironic Bing Crosby covers or tacked-on sleigh bell solos, Dying Wish’s hour-long set made up for it with a comprehensive setlist of the band’s three-record catalog. It leaned the heaviest into Flesh Stays Together, of course, but favorites from Fragments of a Bitter Memory and Symptoms of Survival, padded the set excellently. Even during newer cuts, the love Portland has for the band was impossible to ignore. At a certain point, even the pit felt less like catharsis, and more like a tribute to the band’s heaviness. How can you stay still to music like this? You can’t—the only thing you can do is run head first into your neighbor on your way to jump off the stage. 

Then, as though the crowd had been waiting the entire day for it, the band’s hour ended with Fragments favorite “Innate Thirst.” The stage filled up with bodies, not just divers and surfers, but members of the opening bands as well. Gouge Away’s Christina Michelle screamed into the mic alongside Boster as a member of Misery Whip launched himself into the crowd. As the show ended, the band’s family came out to toss wrapped gift boxes into the crowd, the perfect bow to tie on top of a day of heavy music. They also took the moment to announce that, yes, they would be doing it all again next year, on December 19, 2026. After a day this fun, you better believe we’ll be there, ready to get bruised and bashed like our gay yuletide depends on it.