After a 23-year hiatus, legendary sludge metal band Acid Bath returned to the stage this past weekend with their first show on April 25, 2025, at the House of Blues in New Orleans. The performance was a seismic event for fans, blending raw energy and haunting melodies that captivated the audience. Acid Bath’s return not only rekindled the fire of their loyal fanbase but also showcased their enduring influence in the metal scene. This milestone event marked a powerful chapter in the band’s storied legacy. A story that is part of my story, as well.
The Year Was 1995
I was 15 years old. My mom had just gotten clean and decided to move us from San Diego to Panama City Beach, Florida. In her heart, I think she believed that putting distance between us and our delinquent friends would somehow make it easier to manage my sister and I while she got her shit together.
Boy, was she wrong.
At the time, Florida was the death metal capital of America. The rage and trauma I had already accumulated by then fed straight into my love for the dark, angry intensity of the genre. The double bass drums, heavy guitar riffs, and screaming vocals spoke directly to the rebellious, adrenaline-addicted teenage monster I had become.
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It felt like a dream. We lived at the beach, swam with dolphins, and spent weekends at the freshwater springs with a keg of beer, a sheet of acid, an arsenal of D batteries for our boombox, and a sick collection of cassette tapes. Motörhead, Slayer, Corrosion of Conformity, White Zombie, Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel, and of course, our beloved Acid Bath were on constant rotation.
We didn’t have a care in the world. We were floating on a moment, no cameras or internet, we fucked, we fought, we partied—and at the center of it all was a very specific soundtrack.
Meanwhile, my mother had completely lost control.
The woman I grew up with was fearless. She said what she wanted, she’d fight a man, and she wasn’t even scared to shoot cocaine and meth at the same time. Nothing phased her. But one night, as I was laying my head down to sleep with music blaring from my bedroom, she heard the lyrics: “Drop some acid, kill your parents, then we hit the road.”
I think for the first time in her life, she was fucking terrified.
She opened my door and said, “You shouldn’t be listening to that shit while you’re sleeping.”
I just replied, “It helps me fall asleep.”
I still giggle a little when I think about that exchange. There was nothing she could do—I was fully in.
I dropped out of school and snuck out through my bedroom window nearly every night and became deeply obsessed with metal.
The buzz started growing around town that Acid Bath would be playing a show at Mescalito’s. My whole friend group was hyped—but there was one problem: I was only 15, and it was an 18+ venue.
My mom chimed in with this half-hearted attempt at parenting: “You can go… just don’t take any LSD or get in the mosh pit.”
“Sure mom” As if I was going to listen to anything she told me.
I’d snuck into biker bars before with my crazy ex convict uncle Virgil, but this time I wouldn’t have him with me to intimidate the door guy. As we smoked a joint in the parking lot, the LSD started to kick in and so did my anxiety. I couldn’t miss this show. Acid Bath was my favorite band! I turned to my little sister’s 24-year-old boyfriend and said, “They’re not gonna let me in.”
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Jason grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me dead in the eyes, and said “Just go around back, grab a guitar stand, and walk in like you fucking own the place Jess”
By this point, my pupils were black basketballs annd any fear I had subsided. I made my way around to the back of the building and did exactly as I was told. The band was loading in so walked up to Sammy, and asked “Can I grab that guitar stand for you?” and he handed it to me without question.
And just like that, I was inside—attending my first-ever club show.
It was way easier than I expected and after that night, the staff recognized me, I became a regular and no one ever asked for my ID, I could even buy beer.
Back to that night—I was dressed in full hippie garb, including Birkenstocks, an ankle length textile skirt and one of those neat silver arm cuffs that we popular in the 90s—I threw myself into the pit. At one point, some grown-ass lady (she must not have liked the way looked or something) decided she was going to beat the shit outta me. I wasn’t scared. And honestly, between all the drugs and alcohol, I barely felt a thing and to be honest, it was kind of exciting.
Thankfully, Dax stopped the show to break it up and told the bouncers to “get her out of here”
I went from feeling a little embarrassed that I was getting my ass kicked… to feeling pretty fucking cool.
The next morning, I woke up hungover, with a couple of missing patches of hair, and bruises all over my feet from slam dancing barefoot in the pit. But I couldn’t stop smiling when my mom looked down, clocked the damage, and said:
“You went in the pit, didn’t you?”
Of course I fucking did.
