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Poison the Well and Converge just rounded out their North American tour. Both bands are out promoting new albums. Poison the Well put out their first new studio album in 17 years this past March entitled Peace in Place. Meanwhile, Converge are out supporting not 1 but 2 new albums -- Love is Not Enough released this past February and Hum of Hurt is slated to be released in just a couple of weeks on June 5th. Joining the duo for this leg of the tour were The Barbarians of California who have been putting out a steady stream or new tracks recently and The Armed who have been pushing their 2025 album The Future is Here and Everything Needs to be Destroyed. Together these groups have put together one of the best metalcore/heavy music tours of the year.

I showed up not long after Barbarians of California took the stage. Their brand of a thrashy blend of hardcore and metal was a feast for the early attendees. Following was "The greatest band in the world" The Armed. I was familiar but had not delved deep into the band after all these years. I was blown away! The band's unpredictability and onslaught of hardcore music mixed with experimental elements was giving me a sensory overload. The stage presence was reminiscent of earlier Dillinger Escape Plan and Blood Brothers shows. The vocalist would constantly throw the mic out to the crowd for anyone that knew the lyrics. Even handing off the guitar at one point to a fan on the barricade. Needless to say, they showed why they are deemed "The greatest band in the world." 

Next up were heavy music legends, Converge. The band never ceases to amaze after decades of performing. I'm unsure how front man, Jacob Bannon, is still able to scream and growl the way he does over the years. The band ran through a number of tracks from their new album, Love is Not Enough, including opening the set with the title track and "Bad Faith" back-to-back before a taste of You Fail Me with "Eagles Become Vultures." Bannon introduced their new song "Doom in Bloom" from Hum of Hurt by mentioning the struggles he goes through from the loss of others and how his mind goes to a dark place. For the older fans in the crowd, the band played "Conduit" from Forever Came Crashing but of course the crowd went nuts for Jane Doe tracks "The Broken Vow" and when they ended the set with "Concubine."

Poison the Well closed out the night. The band walked out to the Geto Boys' "Still" before jumping into "Botchla" from their sophomore album Tear From the Red. The crowd erupted as Moreira switched from the soft crooning opening to the guttural screams. During "Thoroughbreds" from the bands new album Peace in Place, the fans made it apparent they weren't just there for the old stuff by singing along or moshing in one of the few pits scattered on the floor. Poison the Well are aware of the affinity of their older albums though and continued to run through tracks from their debut album The Opposite of December and You Come Before You while avoiding anything from  2009's The Tropic Rot entirely and only playing "Letter Thing" from Versions. The entire floor turned into a pit when they closed out the night with fan favorite "Nerdy." During the song's esteemed breakdown, a flurry of crowd surfers made their way to the front where Moreira had joined the fans.

The entire night was a powerhouse of heavy music. The audience has grown older, but there is still a spark of youthfulness when a couple of the best bands in their genre come together to remind the fans what it was like to be young. After 20 plus years, Converge and Poison the Well are still putting out music that overshadows their disciples and putting on some of the best hardcore performances you can see. Converge will be heading to Europe in June while Poison the Well are heading to Japan and then Australia. If you find either in your neck of the woods, be sure not to miss them. 

The Menzingers have been touring across America and recently made their way West with I Am the Avalanche. The band is currently ramping up to release a new album later this year, so I guess you could consider this a warm-up tour. The tour rolled through The Glass House, so naturally, I didn't want to miss it. 

After 6 years, I Am the Avalanche are gearing up to release their new album, The Horrow Show on April 10th and have been using this tour to try out the new material. The band has already released a couple of tracks from their upcoming album including the title track, but they snuck in a couple extras from the new record. One song entitled "I Miss California and Every Dog I've Ever Met" and "Alive on 14th Street." After over 20 years, I Am the Avalanche have amassed their own following, and they showed up to sing along. It's not often that you hear a large chunk of the crowd singing along to the openers, but The Glass House made sure to give them a warm welcome when the band jumped into favorites like "I Took a Beating" from their debut LP and "Brooklyn Dodgers" from their critically acclaimed Avalanche United. After spending most of the night tromping around and interacting with the crowd from the stage, vocalist Vinnie Caruana decided to jump down to the barricade to sing along with the fans towards the end of the set. 

Next up were The Menzingers. I've lost count of how many times I've seen The Menzingers over the years, but it's been enough to have grown accustomed to them walking out to The Ramones' "Do You Wanna Dance?" Imagine my surprise when Dire Straits' "Walk of Life" starts blaring from the speakers. The band jumps into "America (You're Freaking Me Out)." An appropriate kick off to the set as headlines continue to get flooded with unfathomable headlines daily. The Menzingers continue to maintain a set of fan favorites from After the Party and On The Impossible Past, with those two albums occupying half of the setlist. The other half was a smattering of Hello Exile, tracks from their latest album, Some of it Was True like "Hope is a Dangerous Little Thing, " "Try" and "There's No Place in This World For Me." 

The band is also playing their newest single, "Nobody's Heroes," which was just released a little over a month ago. The personal highlight for me was when the band broke out a Chamberlain Waits classic, "I Was Born." Ultimately, anything pre-On the Impossible Past has been absent from their sets for the past couple of album cycles, so it was nice to see them revisit it. It didn't feel out of place amongst their later evolved sound. We were almost lucky enough to get "Irish Goodbyes," another pre-OTIP track, when it was put to a vote against "Casey" and "Your Wild Years." The crowd opted for "Casey," which was undeniably the right choice. The Menzingers finished out the night with "Lookers" and Rented World's "In Remission," which has become the band's closing staple. 

While this is a Menzingers headlining tour, having support from I Am the Avalanche makes it a pulse-pounding pairing on equal footing. Both bands put on strong and entertaining performances. Whether it's Vinnie Caruana stomping around the stage or Tom May pogo-ing back and forth nonstop for an hour. There are only a few dates left, but don't miss out if it strolls through a town nearby.

The Boys Ignite Toronto at the Horseshoe Tavern — March 13, 2026

Toronto’s miserable March chill didn’t stand a chance against the sweat, noise, and electricity inside the Horseshoe Tavern as fans packed shoulder to shoulder, awaiting a true punk institution. One voice rang out from the crowd declaring that “To Hell With The Boys” was the greatest LP ever released. The anticipation was electric — a mix of longtime devotees and newcomers eager to witness a band whose legacy stretches back to punk’s explosive beginnings.

Casino Steel, unfortunately, had to sit this one out due to medical reasons, but Matt Dangerfield stepped up to help fill the void. The Boys had arrived the night before after a layover in Iceland. After refuelling with a fine Indian meal, they hit the stage just after 10 p.m. Blistering opening sets from Danny Laj & The Looks and Hamilton punk extraordinaire Gene Champagne had thoroughly primed the crowd.

From the first chord, The Boys reminded Toronto why they remain essential to punk rock. Their performance was a perfect storm of melodic hooks, punchy riffs, and tightly crafted songs that linger in your brain long after the amps cool down. As Dangerfield reflected in a recent interview, “The songs keep coming,” and last night they poured into every corner of the room with undeniable intensity.

The concert flowed through a majority of The Boys’ best-known classics, including TCP, Terminal Love, USI, Cop Cars, Tumble With Me (with a nod to Andrew Matheson), Brickfield Nights, and First Time. Each song was delivered with a mix of precision and reckless joy that had the crowd singing along, pogoing, and fully immersed in the moment. The night closed with a blistering finale of Sick on You, which sparked a small mosh pit in the center of the floor.

One memorable moment included a shout-out to Andrew Matheson, connecting Toronto’s audience to the wider punk family while acknowledging Matheson’s Canadian heritage and the influence of his band, the Hollywood Brats. There was also a touching nod to the late Honest John Plain, whose passing still weighs heavily on fans.

Throughout the set, The Boys balanced melody, showmanship, and finesse. As Dangerfield once said, “We never grew out of the punk energy — we just got better at channelling it.” That energy was palpable in every riff, chorus, and shared glance with the audience. Even decades into their career, they still command the stage like a band at the top of its game. It’s easy to imagine that Dangerfield and Steel carefully selected newer members of the band to continue carrying the flag.

This wasn’t just nostalgia — it was living punk history. Formed in London in 1976, The Boys were among the first wave of British punk bands and notably the first of that generation to secure a full album deal. Their hook-filled approach helped shape the melodic side of punk, and that same spirit was alive on stage in Toronto.

Having only played one previous Canadian gig — a festival stop in Montreal — The Boys clearly appreciated the warm reception. Thanks to Bob Muck Productions, Toronto was treated to an unforgettable night. From the energy in the pit to dancing fans singing along, The Boys’ legacy was alive and kicking.

P.S. — Come back.

All photos by @front.row.fans

Punk legends, Descendents, and Folk-Rock's finest, Frank Turner, have taken to the road and brought along Canada's punk collective, NOBRO. The tour has been weaving its way around the United States for the past 3 weeks and finally made its way to the West Coast. I was fortunate enough to make it out for their 1 of 2 night stint in Disney's land at the House of Blues in Anaheim. 

NOBRO kicked off the night with a boisterous set of ripping garage-punk numbers. Vocalist Kathryn McCaughey hopped back and forth between bass duties and wooing the crowd with a vigorous display of showmanship. Guitarists Josee Caron and Karolane Carbonneau ripped through the numbers' swift chord changes, interspersed with subtle strident licks across the fretboard. By the end, the crowd was wide awake and warmed up. Ready for the rest of the night to unfold. 

Frank Turner and his band of sleeping souls took to the stage ready to fill the room with blaring folk-punk and positivity for his 3127th show, kicking off the set with Turner's ode to Rock 'n' Roll, "I Still Believe," followed by his call to action in "Try This at Home." The Sleeping Souls were as tight-knit as ever, with Ben Lloyd swinging his axe around but never missing a note, and bassist Tarrant Anderson striding around keeping the rhythm with gusto. 

Turner has a knack for making everyone feel full of life, youthful, and joyful. During his declarative "I Don't Want to Be In Your Gang," he turned a hardcore or metal show's "wall of death" into a "wall of hugs," suggesting that rather than closing the wall with violence, the crowd close the wall with kindness and hug the people on opposite ends. In the middle of a solo-acoustic portion of his set, he ran through his sentimental "Be More Kind" dedicated to Minneapolis before a cover of NOFX's "Bob" which included a surprise appearance by the front man himself, Fat Mike, on harmonica. 

By the end of the set, Frank had thrown down his guitar and let himself fly free across the stage and into the crowd for Tape Deck Heart's "Four Simple Words." He spent most of the night repeatedly asking if he was making friends, and there was no doubt he was now everyone's best friend. Be sure to head to Dallas when Frank holds his 9th annual Lost Evenings Fest! The line-up just got announced, and it's killer!

It was time for the legendary punk outfit, Descendents. Before even playing a note, Milo was already firing off jokes about Mickey Mouse before segueing into "Everything Sucks." The crowd erupted when they went into punk earworm, "Hope." Despite the band becoming more and more melodic, they still don't stray away from their short bursts of comedy, throwing in tracks like "I Like Food" and  "Weinerschnitzel" combined with "No, ALL!"

Milo repeatedly went out to the barricade to sing with the crowd, including with a "silly girl" for their appropriately titled track from I Don't Want to Grow Up. On another occasion, he grabbed a papier-mache Milo standing on the toilet from Everything Sucks and set it on the stage. 

The band continued to play through songs spanning their entire discography, including "Coolidge" and "I'm the One" from their earlier years, to newer tracks like "On Paper" from Hypercaffium Spazzinate and "Nightage" from 9th & Walnut. Towards the end, during fan favorite "Bikeage," their tour bus driver stepped in to take over drumming duties, giving Bill Stevenson the opportunity to step up to the mic and catch the bodies flying over the barricade to get to Milo. 

When the band came back for their encore, fans were yelling for "one more song," but were gifted with four. They closed out the night with the Enjoy track, "Get the Time." Descendents built a career on having fun and not wanting to grow up and get old. They made it clear that they still have no intention of doing so. Stephen Egerton plays as fast and aggressively as ever. Milo is still meandering around on stage and cracking jokes. Descendents will be joining Social Distortion on a full US tour beginning late August. Don't miss an opportunity to catch these punk veterans. They never disappoint. 

Ed Sheeran
Accor Stadium
Sydney, Australia
14 February 2026

On Valentine’s night, seventy thousand people assembled at Accor Stadium to watch Ed Sheeran test a quiet paradox: whether a space designed for mass spectacle can be persuaded to behave like a private exchange.

The answer, as it turns out, lies less in scale than in structure.

Sheeran’s performance logic is architectural rather than theatrical. Songs do not arrive fully formed; they accumulate. A rhythm tapped into the guitar body becomes foundation. Chords settle over it. Harmonies are introduced with the patience of someone stacking beams rather than chasing applause. Within minutes the solitary figure onstage produces something that reads as collective. Many musicians employ loop systems. Few have reorganised the economics of stadium touring around one.

His entrance refuses grandeur. He appears almost incidentally - a small, copper-haired figure on a circular platform dwarfed by the infrastructure meant to amplify him. The brief uncertainty in the crowd, that fractional pause before recognition, feels intentional. The entire evening rests on that tension: immensity presented as modesty, machinery framed as intimacy.

The production itself is meticulous. Screens fracture and multiply his image. Flame jets punctuate choruses with algorithmic precision. Moving structures slide into place with the assurance of well-funded engineering. One imagines Guy Debord would have recognised the completeness of the spectacle immediately. And yet the spectacle never fully claims the room.

Attention keeps drifting back to the pedals.

There is something quietly persuasive about watching a song assembled in real time. The process does not diminish the effect; it sharpens it. Sheeran’s gift is not virtuosity so much as intelligibility.

He exposes the scaffolding, and in doing so transforms construction into performance. The audience is not merely witnessing songs; it is witnessing the act of making them, which confers a sense of shared authorship, however illusory.

What prevents the sentiment from curdling is his calibration. He understands how much emotional directness a crowd can absorb before it tips into excess. Ballads arrive at precisely judged intervals. Phones rise in synchrony until the audience itself becomes a luminous extension of the stage design. It is sincerity shaped with the care of choreography - not manufactured, exactly, but undeniably managed.

A moment in which the crowd is instructed to trigger their camera flashes during a lyric about presence encapsulates the method. The contradiction is obvious, acknowledged, even gently mocked. Rather than undermining the sentiment, the self-awareness seems to legitimise it. The performance does not deny its own artifice; it incorporates it.

When additional musicians briefly join him mid-set, the sonic density increases but the clarity recedes. The architecture softens. The loop system reveals itself not as embellishment but as spine. Without it, the show becomes merely large; with it, it remains precise.

“I See Fire” provides the evening’s closest brush with myth. Flame columns rise in synchrony with the melody, and for a moment the scale feels earned rather than imposed. The song carries its theatrics because its structure is strong enough to support them - an increasingly rare quality in arena pop.

By the closing stretch, Sheeran registers less as performer than as conduit: a stabilising route through which familiar emotions travel with unusual efficiency. He is not reimagining pop’s emotional vocabulary. He is refining its transmission.

The dispersal afterwards unfolds with the muted choreography of shared experience dissolving into private memory. Children asleep in merchandise hoodies. Couples speaking softly, as if leaving a ceremony. Someone humming a chorus as though it belonged uniquely to them. In a sense, that is the product being offered.
Strip away the pyrotechnics, the screens, the mechanical bridges, and the proposition is almost austere: one guitar, one recursive device, one performer repeating the same emotional exchange until repetition acquires the gravity of ritual.

He has not reinvented busking.
He has simply extended its radius until the gesture fills a stadium.

And the loop, patient and exacting, continues to turn.