By Yuri Woodfall — Western Lead, Photojournalist — Sound Check Entertainment
Venue: Fan Park @ ICE District, Edmonton | Date: October 18, 2025
A Chill in the Air, and Something Brewing Below It
There’s something eerie about a cold October night in downtown Edmonton — the air sharp enough to sting, skyscrapers buzzing with the hum of expectation. At Fan Park @ ICE District, that hum became a low, collective heartbeat. After twenty-eight years of silence, Acid Bath were finally back, and the city could feel it in its bones.
As the house lights dropped and the ominous tones of Black Sabbath’s “Black Sabbath” rolled out across the park, thousands of voices rose in a cheer that felt half celebration, half exorcism. Then the band strode into view, tearing straight into “Bonus Poem.” In an instant, it wasn’t just nostalgia — it was resurrection.
The Return in Sound & Flesh
From the very first notes of “Tranquilized,” it was clear this wasn’t going to be a gentle reunion. The sound hit like wet concrete: thick, sludgy, and utterly alive. Dax Riggs, with a powerful stage prescence and that trademark thousand-yard stare, sang with the kind of ache that can only come from decades of ghosts.
They followed with “Bleed Me an Ocean,” its bruising groove sending shockwaves through the crowd. And then — in a moment no one saw coming — the band paused as fans began to chant and cheer. Within seconds, the entire park erupted into a heartfelt, rowdy “Happy Birthday” for Dax, who turned 52 that night.
He couldn’t help but laugh — “Y’all remembered,” he grinned, shaking his head before kicking straight into “Venus Blue.” It was one of those rare concert moments where time stops; the kind of warmth that slices cleanly through the distortion.
From there, the band dove headlong into “The Bones of Baby Dolls,” its haunting melody perfectly at odds with the mosh pit chaos unfolding up front. “Dead Girl” oozed dread and melancholy, while “Old Skin” saw Dax snarl and twist through verses like an exorcist at a revival.
The set’s back half felt almost transcendent — “New Death Sensation” blooming into “Graveflower,” both songs stretching the line between brutality and beauty. Then came the quiet, devastating grace of “Scream of the Butterfly,” a song so fragile it could’ve shattered if anyone so much as breathed wrong.
And just when you thought they couldn’t go any deeper, the unmistakable riff of “Paegan Love Song” crashed in — a moment of pure catharsis. Thousands of voices screamed, sang, and sobbed in unison as Dax threw his arms wide under crimson light. They closed with “Dr. Seuss Is Dead,” a strange, poetic farewell that felt like both a warning and a promise.
Support Acts That Sharpened the Blade
The evening was built like a ritual. All Hail the Yeti loosened up the early crowd with thick, groove-heavy riffs. Mares of Thrace stripped it back to raw nerve and angular tension. Anciients expanded the sound into sprawling, melodic chaos — a perfect final charge before Acid Bath’s descent into the swamp. Each act carried a different piece of the puzzle, and by showtime, Edmonton was ready for the main event.
Production & Setting
Fan Park is a tricky beast for heavy music — open air, unpredictable acoustics — but last night it felt purpose-built. Deep red and violet lighting painted the stage, while haze and frost mingled under the skyline glow. The sound was remarkably clean: booming low-end without mud, guitars cutting sharp, and vocals clear enough to catch every ghost-ridden lyric.
From behind the lens, it was a gift: Dax backlit in pale blue during “Scream of the Butterfly,” Sammy Duet leaning into his amp stack mid-riff, and the crowd stretching endlessly toward the skyline. No gimmicks, no pyro — just raw human weight.
The Crowd & the Catharsis
Some came in vintage ’90s tees, cracked and fading like relics; others had discovered Acid Bath only through whispers and playlists. Together, they formed one unified force. When Dax thanked the audience “for remembering the swamp and for still believing in the dirt,” it landed with real gravity.
That birthday sing-along will go down as one of those moments you can’t script — a rare reminder that even the darkest music can make a room glow. The energy in the pit, the tears during “Butterfly,” the screams on “Paegan Love Song” — Edmonton didn’t just witness a reunion; it became part of the resurrection.
Verdict
★★★★½ / 5 — A Return That Felt Like Resurrection
After twenty-eight years and on his own birthday, Dax Riggs led Acid Bath through a night that felt impossible — not a nostalgia trip, but a reclamation of sound and soul. For ninety minutes, the swamp came to Edmonton — and the city will be drying the mud off its boots for a long time.
