Some concerts deliver nostalgia. Others, transcendence. And every so often, you get a night like June 14 at Oakland’s Fox Theater, where the past and present collided under a single roof and left no soul untouched.
Acid Bath—resurrected after nearly three decades—took their place atop a crushing bill that also featured the generational might of High on Fire and the caustic sludge legacy of 16. It was a gathering of the old guard and the new disciples: leather-jacket lifers, TikTok Gen Z converts, and tattooed doom faithful all crammed shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the Earth to crack open.
And it did.
“16 cracked the earth. High on Fire burned it clean. And Acid Bath filled the void with ghostlight and ruin.”
16 didn’t just open the night—they poisoned the soil before anything else could grow. The veteran California quartet came out swinging with “Misfortune Teller,” a slow, barbed, crawling stomp that dragged the crowd through tar and broken glass.
Frontman and guitarist Bobby Ferry stood stoically under dim blue light, his jagged, barked vocals delivering pain with blunt honesty. There’s no pretense in 16’s sound—just suffocating truth. His guitar tone was vile in the best way possible: fuzzy, sharp-edged, and impossible to ignore. Alex Shuster, now an integral part of the lineup, added a second layer of menace with counter-riffs that buzzed and swayed like a rusted pendulum.
Barney Firks’ bass was massive—no distortion pedal on Earth could replicate the weight he brought. On tracks like “Harvester of Fabrication” and “After All,” his playing wasn’t just low-end—it was tectonic. Drummer Dion Thurman brought a steady but feral pulse to the set, alternating between stoned groove and total collapse. He played like a man trying to destroy the kit from the inside out.
The band’s performance of “Fucked for Life” was particularly devastating. No frills, just a resigned, ugly truth wrapped in feedback. “Candy in Spanish” added a warped sense of groove—swampy, sarcastic, and punch-drunk—while “Zoloft Smile” and “Asian Heat” dripped with bleak satire. “Dropout” closed the set with a cracked smirk and a final hit to the skull. It was an unrelenting performance from a band that has mastered the art of sounding like the world ending very slowly.
The mood shifted the moment the curtain rose on High on Fire. Where 16 was all internal decay and psychological doom, Matt Pike and company came out like an invading force.
The lights flared, the crowd roared, and Pike unleashed “Burning Down” like a primal scream. Shirtless, soaked in sweat before the second verse, and wielding his guitar like a war hammer, he led the charge with full-body commitment. The tone was trademark Pike—thick, jagged, and laced with the ghosts of Lemmy, Tony Iommi, and a thousand ancient warriors.
“Fertile Green” was a cannon shot—fast, sharp, and relentless. Jeff Matz anchored the chaos with fluid but crushing bass lines. His work is often underrated, but live, it’s clear: he’s the spine of this beast. Meanwhile, Coady Willis (formerly of Big Business and Melvins) is now fully integrated as the band’s percussive juggernaut. His drumming on “Hung, Drawn and Quartered” was thunder made flesh, with every tom hit sounding like it was aimed at the core of the Earth.
They barely let up. “Rumors of War” was a pit-starter, sending elbows flying and heads spinning. Pike’s solos during “Fury Whip” were electric—sloppy in the best way, full of feel and fury, screeching above the wall of noise like a vengeful spirit.
Then came “Snakes for the Divine”—and the place exploded. The crowd screamed the intro like a war cry. That monstrous riff—mid-tempo gallop with Pike’s raspy howl layered over it—was pure transcendence. The solo on this one was drawn-out, unhinged, and glorious. The entire crowd became a sea of raised fists and sweat-drenched hair.
They closed with “Darker Fleece,” a newer, more layered piece that showed High on Fire hasn’t lost their edge—they’ve sharpened it. The song swayed between thrash and doom, with Pike leaning into his more esoteric tendencies. It was less a song and more a vision—complex, bruising, and hypnotic.
High on Fire didn’t just hold the middle slot. They left a crater.
Acid Bath walked out like they never left, but the silence before the first note of “Tranquilized” said it all: this was a resurrection. You could feel the reverence humming through the room like electricity. Then the riff hit—and the Fox Theater transformed into a cathedral of grief, rage, and transcendence.
Dax Riggs didn’t speak. He didn’t smile. He just stared into the void and let his voice do the work. Now, older and with a deeper, more soulful tone, he delivered each word like scripture. He didn’t sing to entertain. He sang to exorcise.
Sammy Duet and Mike Sanchez traded riffs like war stories, their guitars twisting between shimmering melodies and lurching violence. The chemistry was intact—if anything, matured. Simmons and Wesley, on drums and bass, brought muscle and intent, grounding the set in tight, thunderous rhythms without ever betraying the eerie looseness that defines Acid Bath’s sound.
“Bleed Me an Ocean” brought an early high point, but “Graveflower” was where time stopped. The lighting dimmed to a pale green glow. Dax sang as if he were remembering someone lost, his voice floating above the crowd in a haze of reverb and sorrow.
“The Bones of Baby Dolls” came next, disarmingly fragile and haunting. Every note shimmered. Every word a wound.
The set took a spectral turn with “Dead Girl” in its Agents of Oblivion form—dreamlike, noir, and unsettling. “New Death Sensation” was crushing, veering between suffocating sludge and unhinged melody.
Then came “Scream of the Butterfly.” Before starting, Dax finally spoke:
“This is for Audie.”
The room collapsed into silence. You could feel people crying around you. The riff rang out, slow and shimmering, and Dax sang with eyes closed. This wasn’t a performance. This was grief ritualized. Audie Pitre, long gone but never forgotten, was alive in that moment through every note.
“Venus Blue” added a final, tragic glow before “Paegan Love Song” ignited the crowd into unified, chaotic joy. The younger fans up front—many of them TikTok converts—screamed every word like it had always been theirs. It was clear this wasn’t just a nostalgic act. Acid Bath had new disciples.
They closed with “Dr. Seuss Is Dead,” a bizarre, shrieking descent into madness. Feedback. Screams. Broken cadence. The perfect way to end a set that had already transcended expectation and entered legend.
No encore. Just a bow of the head and an exit into black.
16 cracked the earth. High on Fire burned it clean. And Acid Bath filled the void with ghostlight and ruin. This was not just a concert. It was a rite, witnessed by a multigenerational crowd who understood the significance of the night.
For the old guard, it was a reckoning. For Gen Z, discovering Acid Bath through TikTok, it was an awakening. For everyone, it was unforgettable.
SETLISTS
ACID BATH
- Tranquilized
- Bleed Me an Ocean
- Graveflower
- The Bones of Baby Dolls
- Dead Girl (Agents of Oblivion arrangement)
- New Death Sensation
- Venus Blue
- Scream of the Butterfly (dedicated to Audie Pitre)
- Paegan Love Song
- Dr. Seuss Is Dead
HIGH ON FIRE
- Burning Down
- Fertile Green
- Hung, Drawn and Quartered
- Rumors of War
- Fury Whip
- Snakes for the Divine
- Darker Fleece
16
- Misfortune Teller
- Harvester of Fabrication
- After All
- Fucked for Life
- Candy in Spanish
- Lanesplitter
- Flake
- Asian Heat
- Zoloft Smile
- Dropout
Photos by Scott Martin Photography
Acid Bath
High On Fire
16
