Night Two of Terror: Ice Nine Kills Doubles the Dread with Bloodier Spectacle and Unrelenting Chaos
Fillmore, Minneapolis, MN, USA
The day began with divine tranquility: a hearty breakfast spread at the Hampton Inn and Suites, morning devotionals, and a peaceful stroll through Minneapolis’s lush Loring Park, where sunlight dappled the paths and calmness reigned. By afternoon, however, the mood shifted as we fortified ourselves with Bricksworth’s bold flavors—dill pickle and Cool Ranch wings—a fitting prelude to a night destined to descend into carnage.
Returning to the Fillmore’s hallowed halls, the venue hummed with anticipation. Though familiar, Night 2 promised fresh horrors. The crowd, still buzzing from the previous evening’s theatrics, now hungered for deeper cuts and darker theatrics. They would not leave disappointed.
Opening Acts: A Symphony of Fire and Fizzle
Dark Divine erupted onto the stage like a hellhound unleashed, delivering a seismic opener that out-moshed Night 1’s entire lineup. Their brutal riffs and dead-air breakdowns plunged the crowd into instant chaos, with “Welcome to Halloween Town” serving as a savage anthem that set spines tingling.
TX2 then blurred genres with audacious flair, merging rap’s swagger and rock’s grit. The female bassist stole spotlight moments, her harmonies adding depth to the band’s rebellious energy. Though an unexpected pivot, their high-octane performance proved the night could bend genres without breaking.
Hail the Sun, however, stumbled as the third act. Their prog-post-hardcore intricacies—though technically impressive with noodling guitar solos and a drumming vocalist—drained the room’s vigor. The crowd’s stillness spoke volumes; a mismatched slot in the lineup left heads unnervingly upright.
INK: A Masterclass in Visceral Horror
If Night 1 was a silver-screen homage, Night 2 was a grindhouse gorefest. Ice Nine Kills stormed the stage with a vengeance, reigniting the crowd’s fervor in seconds. The Silver Scream 2: Welcome to Horrorwood bled into even darker corners of cinema, with Spencer Charnas orchestrating a symphony of fake blood and faux body parts.
Songs like “Take Your Pick” (inspired by Terrifier) featured a chilling chainsaw duel and a very convincing decapitation, while “Hostel On the Hill” plunged fans into torture-porn terror with dismembered limbs and visceral screams. Charnas shape-shifted from Evil Dead’s Ash (complete with chainsaw arm) to American Psycho’s Patrick Bateman, his axe now dripping with “blood” as the band tore through “Hip to Be Scared.” Theatrics leaned less on costume grandeur and more on shock value—audiences recoiled and roared in equal measure.
As the house lights rose, bodies aching and ears ringing, the truth was undeniable: INK doesn’t just perform—they possess. Two nights, two albums, and a masterful duality of artistry (pageantry vs. pandemonium) solidified their reign as horror-metal’s greatest storytellers. Though Hail the Sun’s lull briefly dimmed the inferno, INK’s return to the stage was a phoenix-like resurrection of chaos.
Yes, my feet throbbed. Yes, my lower back screamed. But how often does a band make you live inside your favorite horror films? Ice Nine Kills doesn’t just blur the line between concert and cinema—they hack through it with a machete.
Final Rating: 10/10 Chainsaws—A Blood-Soaked Encore for the Ages.