Four Decades In, Def Leppard Remind Us Why They’re Still Essential

By Joanie Cox Henry

Photo By Joanie Cox Henry

On a sweltering South Florida night, the Def Leppard rolled into Hollywood's premier venue and delivered a performance soaked in arena rock perfection, proving that four decades into their career, they've lost none of their swagger or their ability to make a room full of strangers feel like they're part of something essential.

The evening opened with an inspired choice: "Gods of War" in its "Drastic Symphonies" incarnation, complete with a theatrical countdown that had the sold-out crowd on their feet before Joe Elliott even grabbed the mic. It was a statement of intent—this wasn't going to be a nostalgia trip, but a celebration of a band still pushing boundaries while honoring their legacy.

What followed was a carefully curated journey through Def Leppard's catalog that felt both inevitable and surprising. The "Pyromania Intro" seamlessly flowed into "Rock! Rock! (Till You Drop)," and suddenly we were transported back to 1983, when MTV still played music videos and these songs soundtracked teenage rebellion across America. But this wasn't museum-piece performance—the band attacked these classics with the hunger of musicians who still believe in the transformative power of a perfect hook.

The early run of hits—"Rocket," "Let's Get Rocked," "Foolin'"—showcased a band operating at peak efficiency. Phil Collen and Vivian Campbell's twin guitar attack was surgical in its precision, while Rick Savage's bass provided the kind of low-end rumble that you feel in your chest cavity. But it was Rick Allen's drumming that truly stole the show, his one-armed technique remaining one of rock's most inspiring displays of pure determination. Watching him navigate the complex rhythmic patterns of "Armageddon It" (performed in its shortened ending version) was like witnessing athletic poetry in motion.

The night's emotional centerpiece came during the acoustic segment, where "This Guitar" and "Two Steps Behind" stripped away the arena-sized production values and reminded everyone why these songs have endured. Elliott's voice, weathered but still capable of surprising tenderness, wrapped around the intimate arrangements like velvet over steel. It was the kind of moment that separates great bands from merely successful ones—the willingness to be vulnerable in front of 5,000 people.

"Bringin' On the Heartbreak" brought the energy roaring back, the song's dramatic dynamics perfectly suited to the band's theatrical sensibilities. When they launched into "Switch 625," one of their deeper cuts, it felt like a reward for the longtime fans who've stuck around through lineup changes and industry upheavals.

The final stretch was pure euphoria. "Rock of Ages" had the entire venue singing along to that immortal "Gunter glieben glauten globen" intro, while "Photograph" transformed Hard Rock Live into a massive sing-along. These aren't just songs—they're cultural artifacts that have somehow become more powerful with age.

The encore was perfectly calibrated for maximum emotional impact. "When Love and Hate Collide" showcased the band's underrated balladeer skills, Elliott's vocals soaring over the crowd noise with grace and power. But it was the final one-two punch of "Hysteria" and "Pour Some Sugar on Me" that truly brought the house down. By the time they reached that final "Pour some sugar on me!" the distinction between performer and audience had completely dissolved.

What struck me most about this performance was how effortless it all seemed. This is a band that has survived the unthinkable—a drummer losing his arm, the tragic death of guitarist Steve Clark, the changing tides of musical fashion—and emerged stronger. There's a weight to their performance that comes from having lived through genuine adversity.