ACID BATH
The Fillmore – 8/9/25 – Minneapolis, MN
©Justin Nuoffer/NuofferMedia.com
Downtown Minneapolis, Minnesota was bustling with life on a beautiful Saturday evening. The bars and restaurants were overflowing with people, laughter, and music. Outside The Fillmore, a line had already started forming early in the evening and from that moment on, anticipation was sky-high. With their name wrapped around the marquee, the return of the legendary Acid Bath was officially underway in Minnesota.
As the doors opened, fans filtered down the sidewalk and up the stairs into the security checkpoint. After passing through the scan and bag check, guests were ushered to the ticketing area. Once cleared, they were greeted by a foyer with restrooms and coat check. To the right, a set of doors led into the main room.
Crossing that threshold, a staircase on the left led to the upper level, where exclusive seating and private suites awaited. That area wrapped around the entire main floor, offering a clean, unique view of the stage from above.
On the main floor, two bars lined either side of the room, and straight ahead, the stage stood about six feet off the ground. Band merchandise was tucked behind the stairs leading up to the second deck. The merch line stretched and wrapped around the room for nearly the entire show a clear sign of just how eager the fans were.
Opening the evening were Primitive Man and Windhand, each bringing their own distinct flavor of doom and stoner metal. Primitive Man, a crushing three-piece from Denver, performed under almost complete darkness. The near-total lack of lighting only amplified the bleak, oppressive weight of their sound. Their performance felt less like a concert and more like an emotional descent—harsh, raw, and deeply unsettling in the best way possible.
The contrast between the two bands was stark. Windhand, while firmly rooted in doom metal themselves, took a different approach. Fronted by the hauntingly ethereal vocals of Dorthia Cottrell, they navigated through macabre tales and hymns of dark worship. Bathed in shades of purple and green light, their set had an almost ritualistic atmosphere. The Richmond, Virginia-based band clearly had a dedicated following in the room, fans along the front row sang along to every word, fully immersed. Windhand set the tone perfectly, ushering in the shadowy anticipation for what everyone had come to see.
As the house lights dropped and the crowd erupted, Acid Bath hit the stage to a roar so loud it shook the room, their iconic backdrop glowing with the longtime logo illuminated behind them.
They opened with “The Beautiful Downgrade,” a spoken word that sent chills floating through the venue, and from the first crushing note of “Tranquilized,” it was clear this wasn’t just a reunion, it was a resurrection. The crowd erupted, a wave of catharsis pulsing through the pit. Acid Bath didn’t miss a step. It was as if time had folded in on itself and we were all back in the mid-90s, swallowed by that distinct blend of sludge, psychedelia, and violence. The floor shook with slow, deliberate power. The sound was thick, smothering, even yet precise. The band’s chemistry was apparent and had clearly grown stronger with time away from the stage.
The set moved like a fever dream. However, guitarist Sammy Duet, whose legacy within metal is well documented, took time to comment on how incredible it was to see people wanting—and coming out—to see them perform live. “Bleed Me an Ocean” and “Graveflower” were met with raised fists. The bodies of crowd surfers came in hot and heavy; others stood still, absorbing every lyric like scripture. “The Bones of Baby Dolls” is where vocalist Dax Riggs found his groove. The track dropped like a cold weight, haunting, and poetic. The room hushed, as if collectively holding its breath, locked into the song’s bruised beauty.
There was a reverent silence as “Dead Girl” began, an acoustic ghost story that drifted through the venue like smoke. The stripped-down nature was a spiritual experience, where the pure power of lyricism and delivery met every expectation.
But it didn’t stay soft for long. As another spoken word clip, “Old Skin,” ran, fans gathered themselves for the second half of the evening. At this point, the show couldn’t have been any more perfect. Every aspect that makes Acid Bath that influential and unique mix of artistry was on display. That slow, prodding pace continued with “New Death Sensation.” The chill rattled the spine. Acid Bath moved through these songs with the same controlled chaos that made them legendary—never sloppy, never dull.
When “Venus Blue” started, fans along the barricade screamed every word. There was a strange beauty in how unified the crowd was, tied together by the band’s unique brew of horror, sorrow, and aggression. The heaviness of the material once again lit the room ablaze with activity. People scattered and moved like cockroaches.
Then came “Scream of the Butterfly,” and the energy shifted again. It was dreamlike, surreal. The lighting dimmed to a soft haze as Dax’s voice curled around every line with venom and vulnerability. For six-plus minutes, Acid Bath grasped control with a chorus of voices that rang out in unison. The Fillmore, with its chandeliers draped in purple lighting, turned into a mood all its own.
Finally, they closed with the one-two punch of “Paegan Love Song” and “Dr. Seuss Is Dead.” The first built on that energy and atmosphere to hit harder than one could’ve ever hoped for. Guitarist Mike Sanchez delivered jump after jump while unleashing that progressive guitar riff that makes “Paegan Love Song” great. Ending a triumphant return to Minneapolis, Acid Bath rolled out “Dr. Seuss Is Dead” to complete the vibe. A flurry of action kicked up with the grinding riff and the scream of “Dr. Seuss is dead!” Riggs and his heavy vibrato resonated. With the consistent assault and ferocious build-up to an epic breakdown, crowd engagement was at its peak. Then, with the final note ringing out, the audience didn’t leave. The noise remained high. Everyone was left wanting more.
Check out the Acid Bath concert photo gallery below:
It was obvious the fandom was strong, and built to levels unimagined. The Acid Bath members stayed on stage and gave thanks over and over. They handed out all sorts of stage memorabilia to those along the security barrier. The merch line built up again, and various shirts and posters flew out of boxes.
Outside the venue, people lined the street taking pictures of the marquee or hailing rides. The impact of Acid Bath, twenty-eight years after their abrupt and unfortunate ending, was clearly felt. The overall age range was vastly under 35–40 years old. This means their music is now generational, and its clout and importance have struck years later. Modern metal artists often cite their two albums, When the Kite String Pops and Paegan Terrorism Tactics, as inspiration and groundwork for their own releases. The artistry transcends, and this performance only proved it further. The Fillmore sold out. There were no more tickets available.
Understanding this level of love and gratitude, one can only imagine more and more dates are on the way.
