Acid Bath – Fillmore – Minneapolis MN – August 8th 2025

Acid Bath at The Fillmore, Minneapolis on August 8th 2025

Review and photos by Payton Rondeau

The Fillmore, with its warm yet powerful acoustics and intimate setup, proved the perfect stage for an act as emotionally charged as Acid Bath. By 9:15 PM the lights dimmed, ushering in a hush that felt heavy—like everything was holding its breath.

The band launched into “The Beautiful Downgrade”, a slow burn opener that immediately hooked the room with its haunting riff. Following it were “Tranquilized” and “Bleed Me an Ocean”, each building tension with a push-pull of melancholic melody and grinding sludge.

Highlights that tore through the atmosphere included:

• “Graveflower” — drenched in sorrow, its echo seemed to linger like a lament.
• “The Bones of Baby Dolls” — a fragile interlude, spectral and emotionally raw.
• “Dead Girl” — unsettling in its noir-laced delivery.
• “New Death Sensation” — unleashing unhinged chaos, yet executed with uncanny precision.

Then came “Scream of the Butterfly”, the room unafraid of quiet devastation. Whatever presence Audie Pitre once held felt revived in that moment; the riff, slow yet shimmering, was nothing short of a requiem. You could feel grief materializing between the strings and vocal tremor.

Moments after, “Venus Blue” brought a sorrowful glow—as if the ghosts backstage sighed in recognition. Then “Paegan Love Song” ignited the crowd, bridging old and new fans in a frenzied surge of adoration. The set closed with “Dr. Seuss Is Dead”, an appropriately twisted exclamation point—feedback, shrieks, and musical collapse, ending in perfect, chaotic ruin.

The Performance & Its Emotional Gravity

Dax Riggs, older and deeper in tone, sang not to entertain, but to exorcise. His words became incantations, searching the shadows in each phrase. Sammy Duet and Mike Sanchez moved their guitars like storytellers of sorrow and rage, trading riffs that felt both ancient and afresh. Bass and drums grounded each song in percussive weight, never betraying the eerie looseness at the heart of Acid Bath’s dark alchemy.

The crowd—some original disciples, others Gen Z disciples discovering Acid Bath via TikTok—felt seen, heard, and finally part of something bigger. This wasn’t nostalgia; it was resurrection.

Final Thoughts

After “Dr. Seuss Is Dead”, the band bowed, vanished into the shadows, leaving stunned silence behind. This wasn’t just a show. It was a ritual—a reclaiming of memory and myth.

For longtime listeners, it was a reckoning with loss and legacy. For newcomers, it was a baptism of sound that demanded attention and introspection. For everyone, it was unforgettable.