Is Too Much Rock running behind? Yes. But is it running way behind? Also yes. So maybe we can do this one quickly.

A 7pm start time is early but Warehouse on Broadway doesn't fool around. Heels don't either. Led by vocalist Stevie Cruz (in a wrestling mask), the sinewy frontman screamed and crooned and jumped and kicked across the stage for a half hour while fans and crepuscular light streamed into the club. Soon there was a wiggling audience lining the tall stage. The quartet, completed by guitarist Austin Turney, bassist Jeremy Wilson, and drummer Drew Little, found a groove for their dancing fans in every song, whether the dominant style was hardcore or garage rock. They were like early Janes Addiction that way, but instead of trippy sideshows, Turney and the crew delivered riffs and more riffs. What they haven't delivered is their promised full-length album. That's okay, Heels are a live band anyway.

Conflicts followed. I only seem to catch the band opening up big shows, though the recently resurrected hardcore gang definitely plays the DIYs as well. But I must say, big stages suit the quintet. Nigel Williams stalked the large stage with his microphone in hand while dramatic lights pulsed all around him. The lights only dimmed between songs, but as everyone knows, that's when a hardcore frontman does his best preaching. On this night the sermon was about supporting the scene – a timeless theme from the hardcore canon. Still, the act had their own spin (kick) on the genre. Its half-hour set pushed aggression and incorporated a metallic intensity that often gave way to the crunching brutality of deathcore. Guitarists John Tennal and Josha Tandy provided those riffs, but also delightful leads and squealing horsey noises. Tandy faced his amp much of the show to ensure his tones were perfect. Bassist Lucas Dills and drummer Tanner Baze rode the band through nasty stomping breakdowns and fiery double bass surges. Both extremes fueled a short-lived but bona fide pit that Williams willed into existence. There's no doubt that hardcore is having a moment or that Conflicts are back to claim what is theirs.

At 9pm The Casket Lottery took the stage also looking to reclaim a bit of glory. The decades-running project looked different than the last time I saw them. Vocalist/guitarist Nathan Ellis still fronts the band, but behind him is a collection of players added throughout the years including second guitarist Terrence Vitali, bassist Gene Abramov, and drummer Jeff Gensterblum. All are quality players. The project's sound hadn't shifted much despite the act's longevity and its revamped lineups – compositions were still tricky indie rock affairs that bordered on math rock and leaned heavily into second-wave emo. But they weren't exactly either of those things. Nor were they hardcore or shoegaze. But also, they were all of them. Ellis sawed away at his guitar while Gensterblum's percussion bubbled up through twisty compositions. Vitali's guitar added chiming bits when tunes were quiet, and he stomped on his massive pedal board to elevate the chaos when songs opted to punch. His backing vocals were solid. This was important because Ellis' own vocals were tentative – not shaky, just reserved. His screams lacked gusto. When he announced mid-set that he'd been recovering from an illness, his lassitude made sense. The group's forty-five-minute set favored new material in preparation for a new album. Fans ate it up. That's good news. A tour scheduled for this fall will bring this renewed The Casket Lottery from coast-to-coast. That's even better news.

The future is far less certain for headliners The Esoteric. Since the late '00s the band has resided in a shadowy realm haunting metalcore fans with occasional appearances but never offering anything remotely corporeal. This reunion featured the act's classic lineup – the one responsible for landmark albums With the Sureness of Sleepwalking (2005) and Subverter (2006), and the version fronted by Stevie Cruz. Yes, the same Stevie Cruz from Heels, but this time he was unmasked, and his screamed vocals buried most of his melodic inclinations. Around him were guitarists Cory White and Eric Graves, bassist Anthony Diale, and drummer Marshall Kilpatric. Together the performers ripped through nine songs with big riffs, explosive choruses, breakdowns, shotgun-blast drums, and plenty of texture. They've been forever linked with metalcore, but the act is too eclectic and freewheeling to settle for any one microgenre. I saw Coalesce and Dillinger Escape Plan T-shirts in the crowd. They knew what to expect.

Throughout the fifty-minute set Cruz exuded energy, shouted at the stage's edge, and once, even dove into the crowd to be surfed back to solid ground. By the end of the set, he was shirtless, out of breath, and awed by the response from the audience. While most of the set came from the two albums named above, the band slipped in one older number – "Grievous Angel" – from its first release, a 1999 split 7" with Derailer. The group closed with "His Eternal Enemy" and then walked off the stage without an encore. Was I hoping for one? Yes. Would it have made me even more behind? Also yes.