📍ACL Live — Oct. 29, 2025
Written by Perrin Boyd
Walking into ACL Live on Thursday night felt like stepping straight into a time machine set for the early 2000s. The crowd was a sea of black covered in fishnets, eyeliner, leather jackets, and faded AFI shirts that looked like they’d survived decades. It was a full-circle moment for fans who had grown up screaming lyrics into mirrors and scribbling band logos on notebooks. For one night, Austin felt like the beating heart of that emo rock generation again. Touring behind their twelfth studio album, Silver Bleeds the Black Sun..., AFI reminded everyone that they’re the architects of the punk and alternative eras, not just survivors.
AFI’s journey since forming in 1991 has been nothing short of fascinating. Few bands have evolved so fluidly across genres without losing their identity. What began as raw, high-velocity hardcore punk soon took on a darker edge, morphing into horror punk, post-hardcore, and eventually the moody, gothic-tinged alternative rock that defined their mainstream breakthrough. Through it all, they’ve adapted to shifting musical landscapes while keeping that signature tension between aggression and elegance. It’s what makes them so enduring, every album feels like a reinvention that still sounds unmistakably AFI.
At the center of it all is Davey Havok, a frontman who seems almost mythic at this point. His voice is one of rock’s great paradoxes: beautiful yet unsettling, soaring yet visceral. It’s the kind of voice that divides opinion: you either love it or you don’t, but there’s no denying its power or precision. Havok delivered every note with theatrical intensity, whether growling through the verses or hitting impossibly high notes that echoed through the rafters. He’s a true performer who channels decades of emotion into every lyric, moving with a conviction that makes the stage feel sacred.
The setlist was a love letter to their evolution, pulling songs from ten different albums. The crowd erupted to Girl’s Not Grey, bodies moved in unison during The Days of the Phoenix, and chills ran through the room during the wintry shimmer of Love Like Winter. Each transition showcased the band’s versatility - punk ferocity giving way to dark romanticism, gothic balladry bleeding into melodic chaos. The balance between old and new felt intentional, proving that AFI’s identity isn’t trapped in any single era.
They closed the night with Silver and Cold, a song that still carries the same ache it did two decades ago. As the final chorus rang out, the crowd’s voices merged with Havok’s, echoing through the dark like a prayer. For all their evolution, AFI’s heart still beats with the same defiant spirit; and for a night in Austin, that spirit was alive and burning.