Chris Adler, founding drummer of Lamb of God and longtime architect of the band’s thunderous backbone, has finally spoken up about the day it all ended. Not with a handshake or even a phone call, but through a cold email. After over two decades of pouring himself into the music, he was let go quietly, abruptly.
It didn’t come out of nowhere, though. In 2017, Chris Adler suffered a brutal motorcycle crash: one that left him with serious injuries and knocked him off the road for a long stretch. While he was still dealing with the aftermath, life didn’t exactly slow down. He lost his mother. His marriage ended. And on top of it all, he was battling something even most musicians haven’t heard of: musician’s dystonia. It’s a neurological condition that messes with motor control, absolutely devastating for someone whose entire playing style relied on finesse and lightning precision.
The cracks started to show. Chris Adler tried to adapt. Songs were being changed to match what he could manage. That kind of shift doesn’t fly under the radar in a band like Lamb of God. He picked up other gigs: played with Protest the Hero, even stepped in with Megadeth for a bit. That helped creatively, sure, but it probably widened the distance between him and the rest of the band, whether anyone said it out loud or not.
And when the split finally came, it hit hard. Not just because of how it happened, but because of what it meant. Still, Adler doesn’t lash out. He’s spoken about the moment with clarity, hurt, yes, but also self-awareness. He knew he wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Maybe the decision was inevitable. Doesn’t make it easier, though.
Rather than stew in that pain, he pivoted. Poured himself into Firstborne: a new band, a new rhythm. It’s a different sound but unmistakably his. More than just proving he can still play, it’s about building something that feels like his again. No compromises. No pressure to conform.
Chris Adler doesn’t deny what he had with Lamb of God. That history is there, etched into metal history. The pride’s still there. But there’s also that lingering weight from how it ended, something left unspoken that probably never gets said. And maybe that’s the cost of the road: long tours, endless pressure, relationships stretched to breaking, and very little room for vulnerability.
Chris Adler’s story isn’t just about a band split. It’s about falling apart, then choosing to rebuild from the wreckage. His drumming was always precise, brutal, and unrelenting. But it’s his quiet resilience now: the honesty, the refusal to disappear, that leaves the deepest impact. And maybe that’s where his loudest beat lives now.