FEAR – VFW Uptown – Minneapolis MN – February 28th 2025

FEAR live at the Uptwon VFW with special guests Menstrual Tramps and Bad Idea

Review and photos by Kyle Hansen

Menstrual Tramps Live: A Chaotic, Bloody Good Time

If you’ve never seen the Menstrual Tramps live, you haven’t truly lived—or at least, you haven’t truly sweat, screamed, and maybe bled in a dingy venue filled with feral punks. Their latest show was everything you’d expect from a band that wears its raw energy on its sleeve (and probably its ripped fishnets, too).

From the moment they hit the stage, it was clear that subtlety was not on the menu. The front woman, oozing charisma and pure riot-grrrl fury, tore through the opening track like a chainsaw through a tampon commercial. The crowd was immediately in sync—moshing, screaming lyrics, and generally embodying the beautiful, chaotic mess that the Tramps inspire.

The setlist was a killer mix of old anthems and newer, even filthier material. “Cramps & Capitalism” had the crowd howling, while “Heavy Flow” turned the pit into a whirling storm of flying bodies and spilled drinks. Their energy never let up—not when the guitarist’s strap broke mid-song, not when the bassist took a beer to the face (and barely blinked), and definitely not when the drummer lost a stick and just kept pounding away with the other.

And let’s talk about the closer. “Red Riot”—a furious, fast-paced, unapologetic feminist battle cry—left the audience breathless. The final notes rang out, the amps buzzed, and the band walked off like they hadn’t just detonated the entire venue.

The Menstrual Tramps don’t play shows—they stage full-blown revolutions in 30-minute bursts. If you get a chance to see them, do it.

Rating: 10/10, would mosh again.

Seeing Bad Idea live is like getting hit by a speeding car—painful, exhilarating, and over way too fast. Their latest show was pure, reckless energy, a loud and lawless mess that felt like it could collapse in on itself at any moment—but somehow never did.

From the first distorted chord, it was clear this wasn’t a show; it was an exorcism. The band tore into their set with zero hesitation, every song a frantic, fuzzed-out assault on the senses. Frontperson [insert name] screamed like they were fighting off demons, while the rest of the band kept up a barely controlled chaos, the kind that makes you wonder if they even know what song they’re playing—or if that even matters.

The highlight? “[Song Name]”, where the crowd turned into a full-body riot, limbs flying, bodies crashing, voices straining to match the unhinged wails from the stage. At one point, the mic stand was lost to the pit, but that didn’t stop anything. By the time they launched into “[Another Song Name]”, it was clear they weren’t here to impress—they were here to destroy.

Sound issues? Who cares. Missed notes? Probably intentional. Broken gear? Just part of the show.

By the end the band looked like they’d just escaped a crime scene, and the audience was left buzzing, bruised, and begging for more. Bad Idea doesn’t play shows. They start riots. And if you’re lucky enough to be in the blast zone, you’ll walk away a little more broken—and a whole lot more alive.

Verdict? A loud, ugly, glorious mess. 10/10 would get wrecked again.

If you walk into a Fear show expecting anything less than pure, unfiltered, spit-in-your-face punk rock, you’re in the wrong place. Lee Ving and company haven’t mellowed with age—if anything, they’ve doubled down on being loud, obnoxious, and unapologetically themselves. And that’s exactly what made their latest show an absolute riot.

From the first note, it was clear that this wasn’t some nostalgia cash grab—Fear still plays like they have something to prove. The guitars were sharp, the bass rumbled like a street fight about to break out, and Ving’s signature sneer cut through the chaos like a knife. The crowd? A mix of old punks, younger hardcore kids, and a few unlucky souls who had no idea what they were getting into.

They ripped through classics like “I Love Livin’ in the City” and “More Beer”, each song delivered with the same venom as their heyday. The pit was a storm of flying elbows and spilled beer, and you could almost hear the ghosts of past LA punk riots echoing through the venue.

Of course, no Fear show is complete without some controversy. Ving’s stage banter was as sharp-tongued and politically incorrect as ever, but that’s part of the package—take it or leave it. Love them or hate them, Fear doesn’t change for anyone.

By the time they played  “Let’s Have a War,” the crowd was bruised, sweaty, and grinning like maniacs. Punk may have evolved, fractured, and reinvented itself a hundred times over, but Fear remains exactly what they’ve always been: fast, mean, and louder than hell.

The highlight of the evening was seeing Shane Hawking on drums. Son of Taylor from Foo Fighters fame he hit the drum with such force. Even at the end he came out for a drum solo to close out the show.

Verdict: 10/10—Still dangerous, still essential.