By Jerry Mosley

On April 25th, 2025, in the heart of New Orleans — a city steeped in voodoo, blues, and bayou sludge — something extraordinary happened. After nearly three decades of silence, Louisiana’s most mythologized metal band, Acid Bath, returned to the stage for a long-awaited reunion at The Fillmore. And if the crowd’s deafening reception was any indication, this wasn’t just a concert — it was a resurrection.

An Underground Legacy

Formed in the early ’90s in Houma, Louisiana, Acid Bath blended doom, sludge, death metal, and psychedelic blues into something utterly their own. Their two albums — When the Kite String Pops (1994) and Paegan Terrorism Tactics (1996) — are cult masterpieces. They earned a devoted following for their raw poetry, atmospheric heaviness, and the haunting duality of frontman Dax Riggs, whose ability to shift from ethereal croons to hellish screams made him a legend in underground circles.

But in 1997, tragedy struck. Bassist Audie Pitre, just 22 years old, was killed alongside his parents in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. Acid Bath never formally announced a breakup — they simply disappeared, becoming one of extreme music’s most revered “what could have been” stories.

Ticket Hunt and the Build-Up

News of the reunion spread like wildfire, and tickets sold out almost instantly — many snagged by scalper bots. For fans, the secondary market became a battlefield. Prices fluctuated wildly in the days leading up to the show. On the first day, they hit $150, then dipped slightly, before surging again. For one lucky fan, the magic number was $90 (which, after fees, still came out to $150), and the gamble to wait until the last minute paid off.

The venue — The Fillmore, nestled within walking distance of the French Quarter — was a perfect setting. Equal parts modern and steeped in old-world atmosphere, it buzzed with a crowd of diehards, many of whom never thought they’d get to witness what was about to unfold.

Eyehategod: The Architects of Sludge

Before Acid Bath took the stage, another New Orleans institution opened the night: Eyehategod. No strangers to chaos, the band has long served as the spiritual godfathers of Southern sludge. Frontman Mike IX Williams, whose tortured, nihilistic howl channels pain like few others, led the charge through a pummeling set that started with “Agitation! Propaganda!” — a mind-warping blitz of distortion and dissonance.

The band’s sound was thick, swampy, and oppressive in all the right ways. With punishing riffs and an atmosphere of barely-contained rage, they reminded the crowd why they’ve remained so vital over the decades. They closed with “Everything, Every Day,” a slow-burning, feedback-drenched epic that left the venue shaking and the audience primed.

The Return of Acid Bath

Then came the moment. As the lights dimmed, a hush fell over the crowd. “The Beautiful Downgrade,” a spoken-word track, echoed through the venue, and figures began emerging from the shadows. Then, without warning, the band launched into “Tranquilized” — a relentless opening assault. And there he was: Dax Riggs.

Wearing his signature mystique and fire, Dax’s vocals were a revelation. His voice, seemingly untouched by time, danced between seductive melody and unhinged fury. When he screamed “I LIVE!” midway through the opener, it was more than a lyric — it was a declaration. Acid Bath was back.

What followed was a dream setlist for any fan:

• Bleed Me an Ocean — sludgy, brooding, perfect.

• Graveflower — equal parts dirge and lullaby.

• The Bones of Babydolls — macabre, poetic, and haunting.

• Dead Girl and New Death Sensation — drenched in gothic gloom.

• Old Skin (spoken word) — a chilling pause amid the chaos.

• Venus Blue, Scream of the Butterfly (dedicated movingly to Audie), and Paegan Love Song — each played with reverence and raw energy.

• And the closer: Dr. Seuss is Dead — a crushing final act, executed with both brutality and grace.

Throughout the performance, there were a few stumbles — the band even joked, “C’mon, it’s been 28 years!” — but none of it detracted from the sheer electricity of the night. In fact, the imperfections made the moment feel more real, more human. It wasn’t a polished corporate comeback. It was blood, rust, and resurrection.

A New Chapter?

Dax Riggs has kept busy in the intervening years, releasing atmospheric solo material with blues, folk, and gothic leanings — most recently, 7 Songs for Spiders. But in a recent interview, he described Acid Bath’s return simply and powerfully: “My solo stuff is an outlet. Acid Bath is a weapon.”

And that weapon was wielded with devastating precision in New Orleans.

What happens next remains unclear. Was this a one-night-only celebration of the past, or a signal of more to come? Hopes are high for additional tour dates — or even a new album. As Dax stood before the crowd, basking in both applause and catharsis, it felt less like closure and more like ignition.

For those lucky enough to be there, it wasn’t just a reunion. It was a reckoning. Acid Bath is no longer a ghost of the past — they’re alive, screaming, and heavier than ever.