Acid Bath, Weedeater, Rwake

Jun 30

Written By Luke

ST. PETERSBURG, FL | JANNUS LIVE | 06.28.2025

Come One, Come All

The clown paint was running. By the time I elbowed my way into Janus Live, it was a full-on greasepaint meltdown. Florida summer shows have a way of stripping you bare, physically and spiritually. No A/C, no breeze, no mercy. Just a thousand shirtless bodies crammed into a venue that felt like a clown car packed with degenerates instead of juggling fools. The heat wrapping around you like wet denim, smelling like beer and regret.

Rwake opened with a thick fog of noise, dual vocals punching through a sonic wall of keyboards and fuzz. It was beautiful. And suffocating. And deeply satisfying.

Dixie Dave of Weedeater rasped into the mic like a 2-stroke pit bike running on moonshine fumes. Every syllable sounded like a last gasp. A voice that could sand furniture. They pummeled the crowd with a wall of sludge thicker than the stagnant southern humidity filling the night. Has anyone seen his bullets?

And then, Acid Bath. Ethereal one minute, feral the next. The kind of set where you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until they slide into a riff that could peel the paint off your face. The dreamy ballads hit and the bangers hit harder. Like floating in a swamp of reverb and old memories.

There was no encore. Just the sound of wet shoes shuffling into the night. But if there’s any justice in this chaotic, sweaty world, these clowns aren’t done yet. The show must go on.