The Adicts at The Filmore: Every Circus Needs a Monkey
Monkey of The Adicts @ The Fillmore, SF—All photos by John Greenwood
One element of punk that I love is that it ages beautifully.
From the youngest, adorable wee punks I spotted on the shoulders of their parents (grandparents?) at The Fillmore to the elder punks with silver locks, rocking studs and torn fashions they’ve perfected over many seasons, it always looks cool. It’s a flag to misfits everywhere: the few, the proud, the weirdos. Somehow, unlike so many subcultures that calcify with age, punk keeps regenerating itself. The Adicts have spent decades proving that theatricality, joy, and authenticity aren’t mutually exclusive things. Punk, in its heart, is a collective, a space for people who never fit neatly anywhere else. To the normies, that may look like a circus, and a scary one at that. Good, it's not for them.
The Fillmore welcomed Dog Party, Monster Squad, and The Adicts and brought in a crowd spanning generations, which felt like a reassuring note to self as I’ve dutifully been waiting for my youngest to hit show-ready age. There were several children there rocking out, safely on the outer edges of the generously sized and very vigorous pit.
As if that weren't a charming enough family spectacle on its own, Dog Party opened with the two sisters absolutely tearing up the stage, two women who clearly grew up supporting each other’s musical taste and talent. Gwendolyn and Lucy Giles immediately elevated the room’s energy and kicked things off properly. At one point, Gwendolyn—vocals, drums, electric pink hair—shared the significance of opening for The Adicts, a band she’d adored since middle school. Offering evidence no one needed but everyone appreciated, she pulled something from her pocket: her middle school retainer, decorated with the words “The Adicts.” Not totally sure what accommodating orthodontist helped fashion that dream, but good for her.
By the time Monster Squad came on, the crowd was buzzing, fully ready to mosh and be swallowed whole by their raw emotion and biting classic punk sound. The band blasted what was left of The Fillmore’s doors clean off while the pit commenced its vigorous thrashing. Bouncers dutifully guided expelled pit participants one by one over the top and out, only for them to scramble right back in to the fray. It wasn’t long before lead singer Phil Geck shared his own recollections of being a die-hard Adicts fan back in his youth. Both bands are California natives, so being “home” and sharing a bill with a band as iconic as The Adicts clearly carried weight for them. Hearing that love spoken aloud felt poignant for the crowd too; we’re all fans here; this is our community. That’s the weight of legacy punk bands: they aren’t just musicians anymore; they’re ringmasters for entire generations of outsider kids who grew up and kept showing up. Unlike bands that slowly sand down their edges over time, The Adicts still bring audiences in to the strange, wonderful world they built decades ago.
Then the circus tent went up.
The Adicts @ The Fillmore, SF—Photo by John Greenwood
As the backdrop unrolled, you could watch the setup taking shape in real time: confetti cannons, boxes of who-knows-what, a giant inflatable beer mug, and balloon nets waiting overhead for their moment to drop. Was there dry ice, or were my glasses fogging up in the press pit? Didn’t matter. Out they came, striking, dressed in white with giant smiles spread across their faces as the crowd completely lost it.
With outstretched wings striped like a circus tent, Monkey began the show, inviting us in.
The Adicts @ The Fillmore, SF—Photo by John Greenwood
Every song became its own act. Each band member punched sound into the room while the props and set pieces elevated everything into something fully immersive. The Adicts understand something essential about punk: yes, it can be aggressive and cathartic, but it can also be playful, fun, absurd, and joyful. Theirs isn’t just a concert; it’s a carnival by and for the strange.
I would say the kids brought to the show became new fans that night, but honestly, they already were established. They sang along the entire time, young but familiar listeners who’d probably heard these songs on road trips and family outings for years already. The difference now was that they got to step inside the circus tent themselves.
The Adicts @ The Fillmore, SF—Photo by John Greenwood
They received confetti in their hair. They grabbed playing cards tossed into the crowd by Monkey himself. They bopped balloons overhead while screaming lyrics with the band.
Pete Dee made sure of that connection. He told the house to turn up the lights so he could see the crowd, us. He smiled directly at the fans, making eye contact, talking to us instead of at us, visibly delighted that we were all there together. He made sure we clapped along to certain diddies. He ensured we were a part of the show.
The Adicts @ The Fillmore, SF—Photo by John Greenwood
Then came the band introductions, and you could hear the pride in his voice when he introduced his son as the backup singer.
This circus welcomes family.
It invites you to bring your weird, wonderful self and be part of it. It opens up its striped wings and pulls you in with confetti, noise, laughter, and community. Every circus needs a Monkey, and what keeps people coming back year after year is the feeling that, for one night, the circus needs us too.
Catch the Tail End of this Tour:
Wed, JUN 10 Schlachthof Wiesbaden - Wiesbaden, Germany
Mon, JUN 15 Live Music Hall - Köln, Germany
Tue, JUN 16 Docks - Hamburg, Germany
Sun, JUN 21 Hellfest 2026 - Clisson, France
Follow them on Instagram and stay up to date on concerts or support the band by grabbing merch at: https://theadicts.net/
Special thanks to John Greenwood for the fabulous photography contained in this article…all except this photo of him and the one and only Monkey!
—Photo credit to Dee Ratchet
