Riot Fest Day One Highlights - Weird Al Yankovic, Sparks, Rico Nasty, Mac Sabbath & more

9/19/2025

Writing by Fiza Javid
Photography by Bobby Talamine

Douglass Park - Chicago
Friday - September 19, 2025

Riot Fest 2025. Twenty years in the making, and twenty years of surging surprises kicked off with the utmost excitement.

Day one hit like a wave the moment you stepped through the gates—dust in the air, fried food in the distance, and the sound of guitars already bleeding from the stages. People were running around in patched-up vests, Blink tees, clown makeup, Rico Nasty spikes—you name it. It felt like a costume party for every corner of counterculture.

And then--a Weird Al stage?! I thought it was a rumor at first. But sure enough, his name was plastered across the lineup alongside Sparks, Rico Nasty, Shonen Knife, Mac Sabbath, The Barbarians of California, Big Ass Truck IE, Puddles Pity Party…and of course, Weird Al Yankovic himself.
Weird Al is a rarity. Even with songs so universally known, you’d think he toured endlessly—but no. Seeing him headline Riot Fest felt like stumbling onto a unicorn. For me, it was personal. My love for Al goes back to the early ‘90s: watching I’m Fat on TV, hearing The Saga Begins during Kristi Yamaguchi’s skating program (yes, that happened), even cat
ching buskers belt out Truck Driving Song. The one track I prayed for? Smells Like Nirvana.

And sure enough—we got it. Al stormed the stage in full Kurt Cobain parody gear, throwing himself to the floor, mumbling into the mic like he’d forgotten the lyrics on purpose. The crowd lost it. The medley that followed was pure whiplash: I Love Rocky Road, Canadian Idiot, polka interludes that had people skanking in the pit. No sex, no drugs, no rock ‘n’ roll—just Polkamania.

His outfit changes were as wild as his energy. Every time he reappeared, the crowd screamed louder, and he gave it right back,

But Weird Al wasn’t the only legend. Shonen Knife, the queens of Osaka punk, brought pure sunshine fuzz-pop to an early crowd still shaking off beer lines. Their matching dresses, their harmonies—it was like being let into a candy-colored garage rock daydream.

The Barbarians of California hit like a bar fight wrapped in surf rock. Fronted by Aaron Bruno—yes, the same wild mind behind AWOLNATION—they brought a swagger that made the set feel dangerous and fun all at once. Bruno prowled the stage, howling over fuzzed-out riffs that blended punk grit with sunburnt California surf vibes. It was equal parts chaos and charisma, the kind of set where you didn’t know whether to slam dance or just stand there in awe. For fans who came up on Sail, this was a whole other beast—Bruno unchained, raw, and built for Riot Fest.

Then came Rico Nasty, who immediately flipped the vibe. She tore onto the stage like she owned it, and within thirty seconds, the pit exploded. Her screams, her thrashing, the way the bass shook through the dust—this wasn’t just a rap set, this was punk spirit incarnate. A kid next to me shouted, “She’s the future!” and honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

Mac Sabbath? Absolutely deranged—in the best way. Imagine Ronald McDonald belting out “Frying Pan” to the riff of Iron Man. The crowd was head banging and laughing at the same time, a sea of horns thrown up in irony and admiration. Riot Fest doesn’t just embrace weird—it demands it.

Then came a 180: Puddles Pity Party walked onstage, a giant sad clown, and suddenly it was dead silent. His operatic cover of Bowie filled the park, and people stood frozen, some with tears. The emotional whiplash was insane—only at Riot Fest do you go from parody metal to crying over a clown.
As dusk hit, Sparks took the stage, and their cult energy was undeniable. Ron’s deadpan keyboard stance, Russell’s falsetto soaring over the Chicago air—it was like watching art school weirdos turn into gods. Fifty years in, they were as sharp as ever, and the crowd gave them the worship they deserved.

The day rolled on with curveballs. Camper Van Beethoven brought their offbeat alt-rock and jangly violins, reminding everyone why the college radio underground still worships them. Songs like Take the Skinheads Bowling hit with a strange, nostalgic energy—half singalong, half history lesson. Their set felt like a love letter to the kind of bands that helped Riot Fest even exist.

The Hold Steady followed later, turning the crowd into one giant drunken choir. Craig Finn doesn’t just sing—he preaches, and the audience shouts every word back at him like scripture. Stuck Between Stations hit especially hard, people throwing arms around strangers, beers spilling everywhere, pure catharsis. It was sweaty, sloppy, and absolutely beautiful—everything a Hold Steady set should be.

Sparks were nothing short of surreal. Ron Mael sat stoic at the keyboard, expression fixed like a statue, while his brother Russell Mael bounded across the stage with the kind of energy you’d expect from someone half his age. The juxtaposition was classic Sparks—the deadpan wit next to falsetto theatrics.

When they broke into This Town Ain’t Big Enough for Both of Us, it felt like a time machine back to their glam-rock heyday, when their sharp suits, outrageous hair, and arch humor put them on Top of the Pops next to Bowie and Roxy Music. Their 80s work—full of synth shimmer and theatrical excess—hung heavy in the air, and when Russell hit those falsetto peaks, it was like hearing the ghosts of glam reawakened in Chicago. Newer tracks slid in effortlessly, reminding everyone why Sparks never got stuck in nostalgia—they’ve always been ahead of the curve, constantly reinventing themselves while still dripping in that campy, glam absurdity.

It wasn’t just a set; it was a reminder that Sparks don’t age—they just add another bizarre chapter to their legend.

And then…the main event. Blink-182. By the time the lights cut, the entire park was shaking with anticipation. You could feel it—people on shoulders, drinks flying, strangers hugging because we all knew this was about to be one of those sets.

Tom’s voice cut through first, Mark’s banter was filthy as ever, and Travis played like a machine possessed. From I Miss You to What’s My Age Again? to All the Small Things, it was a singalong frenzy. Tens of thousands screaming until our throats burned, fireworks lighting up the sky, dust clouds rising from the pits—it felt like Riot Fest had come full circle.

By the time we stumbled out of Douglass Park—ears ringing, voices shot, shoes caked in dirt—it was clear: day one wasn’t just an opener. It was a victory lap. Twenty years of mayhem, parody, chaos, and catharsis bottled into one perfect kickoff.

Cheers to the Saturday and Sunday that awaits! Fiza Javid - JBTV Music Television

Rico Nasty, Shonen Knife, The Barbarians of California, Weird Al Yankovic, Blink-182, Sparks, Shonen Knife, Puddles Pity Party, Fiza Javid, Bobby Talamine, Jerry Bryant, JBTV Music Television, Riot Fest 2025, 20 Years, Chicago Live Music

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Riot Fest Day One Highlights - Weird Al Yankovic, Sparks, Rico Nasty, Mac Sabbath & more

Rico Nasty, Shonen Knife, The Barbarians of California, Weird Al Yankovic, Blink-182, Sparks, Shonen Knife, Puddles Pity Party, Fiza Javid, Bobby Talamine, Jerry Bryant, JBTV Music Television, Riot Fest 2025, 20 Years, Chicago Live Music

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