Guns N’ Roses (Image provided by 8PM Entertainment)
INCHEON, May 2 (Korea Bizwire) — As dusk settled over Songdo’s Moonlight Festival Park, the stage lights snapped on like a thunderclap, and the crowd of 25,000 braced themselves. Then came that riff — snarling, iconic — and a voice roared out into the open night: “You are in the jungle, baby!”
With that, Guns N’ Roses launched into “Welcome to the Jungle,” and South Korea’s rock faithful were instantly transported back to the decadent chaos of late-1980s Sunset Strip. Water bottles arced through the air, fans surged forward, and the park trembled beneath the weight of shared memory.
It had been 16 years since the band last played Korea. Much has changed. But on this night, for more than two and a half hours, time bent around a voice and a guitar and the ghosts of arena tours past.
Axl Rose, now in his early 60s, didn’t hide his age — he wore it defiantly, prowling the stage with relentless energy, roaring through choruses, and swinging his hips in the same taunting rhythm that once scandalized the PMRC.
His voice, lower and rougher than in his prime, couldn’t hit every razor-sharp high note — but in the shouted hooks and drawn-out wails of songs like “Live and Let Die” and “Sorry,” he summoned something primal.
“I’ve missed you,” he told the crowd with a grin. “Thanks for calling us back.”
This was no ordinary reunion gig. It was a full-circle moment: the classic core of Rose, guitarist Slash, and bassist Duff McKagan — the trio that helped push Appetite for Destruction into rock history — sharing a Korean stage for the first time. Slash, absent from their 2009 Seoul tour, drew ecstatic roars just by walking out in his signature top hat and sunglasses.
But it was his playing that reminded everyone why he’s still revered — especially during the guitar-driven theatrics of “Double Talkin’ Jive,” where he bent sound itself into a frenzy of melody and distortion.
Guns N’ Roses in a previous performance (Image provided by 8PM Entertainment)
As the night wore on, the weather turned brisk, but the energy only climbed. During “Sorry,” the crowd illuminated the park with phone flashlights, their hands swaying in slow, glowing rhythm. “That was beautiful,” Rose said afterward, visibly moved. “Korea, you really are something.”
“Sweet Child O’ Mine” unleashed a collective delirium — arms raised, fans screaming each lyric as if reciting sacred scripture. Then came the nearly eight-minute epic of “November Rain,” where Rose promised “the longest version you’ve ever heard,” and delivered it with aching grandeur beside Slash’s cinematic solo.
The band closed with “Nightrain” and the always-anthemic “Paradise City.” As fireworks flashed across the night sky, Rose turned back to the mic for one last goodbye.
“Leaving Korea’s gonna hurt,” he said. “This one’s for the road.”
And just like that, they were gone.
Lina Jang (linajang@koreabizwire.com)
