It was a sight unlike anything seen before. Moments earlier, the crowd had been colliding and leaping in sync, and at a single commanding shout, they surged onto the stage. Fans pulled one another up, pushed from behind, and took their places one by one—careful not to intrude on the band’s space—as they shook their heads to the music. The ecstatic procession didn’t stop until the very last note. Beneath a banner that read, “Excessive rock play may cause harm to others. Please stay safe,” two silhouettes twirled their towels and jumped in place, etching an image that would forever stand as one of the defining moments in Korean rock festival history. The densely packed crowd made stage dives and crowd surfing nearly impossible—there were a few breathless seconds of panic—but in the end, everyone found themselves embracing, shouting, and immortalizing the moment together. It was August 2, 2024—the first night of the Incheon Pentaport Rock Festival at Songdo Moonlight Festival Park, where Turnstile took the stage as the headliner.
The fans who gathered that night were witnesses to a live fuse burning toward the dazzling explosion of a rock band on the rise. Turnstile—Brendan Yates, Franz Lyons, Daniel Fang, Pat McCrory, and Meg Mills—have evolved from the Baltimore underground into one of the most talked-about new superstars in rock today. Their fourth studio album, “NEVER ENOUGH,” marks a clear peak in their career. With chart positions like No. 9 on the U.S. Billboard 200, No. 5 in Australia, No.7 in Germany, and No. 11 in the U.K., the record has achieved both commercial impact and critical acclaim, including strong airplay across major stations. Praise has poured in from every direction—“Metal Head” hailed it as “hardcore’s answer to Nirvana’s ‘Nevermind,’” while “Rolling Stone” marveled that it made even those who’d never listened to an underground band start paying attention to hardcore.

Formed in 2010 within the hardcore scene of Baltimore on the U.S. East Coast, Turnstile quickly built a following in the underground with a sound that fused the aggression of 1980s New York hardcore and the groove of 1990s alternative rock. With their second album “Time & Space,” released under Roadrunner Records, they began to push the boundaries of hardcore—experimenting with funk rhythms, psychedelia, and avant-garde textures. That bold expansion came to full bloom on “GLOW ON,” which blended the hazy atmosphere of dream pop with the emotional warmth of soul. The album received near-universal critical acclaim and earned the band three Grammy nominations—an unprecedented feat for a hardcore act. It was the moment Turnstile transcended the expectations of the scene and established themselves as one of the defining names in contemporary rock.
In an interview with “Rolling Stone Australia,” vocalist Brendan Yates explained, “We take time to just collect ideas, really small bits and pieces of ideas over days, weeks, months, even years. [...] I think a big thing with creating is accepting that some things may not make sense, but if they feel right that’s the most important thing,” Emphasizing intuition and instinct over logic, Yates described a creative process rooted in spontaneity. That organic approach has become the band’s driving force, allowing Turnstile to explore sound freely, unbound by the conventions of genre.
Turnstile’s roots lie in hardcore. For the band, Baltimore is more than just a hometown. Influenced by nearby East Coast hubs like New York, Washington, D.C., and Boston—where punk rock, and especially hardcore, have long thrived—Baltimore has cultivated a vibrant underground scene spanning hardcore, emo, and pop-punk. At the same time, it’s a multicultural city where more than half the population is African American, a place naturally attuned to the fusion of genres such as R&B, hip-hop, soul, and electronic music. In an interview with “Revolver Magazine,” Franz Lyons reflected on Baltimore’s local scene, recalling how punk and rap shows would often share the same bar. He said that this mix taught him there was no need to choose between the two—that a person could take any form, exist anywhere, and still stay true to themselves. That sense of freedom, he noted, lies at the heart of Turnstile’s music.
Brendan Yates also spoke about Turnstile’s fluid musical attitude in an interview with The Guardian. “We are a hardcore band,” he said. “But one of the things that drew me to hardcore and punk in the first place, the thing I always believed it was fundamentally about, was that it was a place for open minds and for people who want to challenge norms.” That philosophy runs through every step of Turnstile’s evolution. For them, hardcore isn’t a fixed sound or style—it’s an attitude, a spirit of constantly breaking down boundaries and embracing the new. Their music is unmistakably energetic hardcore punk, but it isn’t the dark, violent, or insular noise the genre is often stereotyped as. Instead, it’s a space of release—where everyone can move, collide, and dance together.

“NEVER ENOUGH” stands as the defining work of Turnstile’s new era of rock. “A musical kaleidoscope” feels like the most accurate description. The title track, “NEVER ENOUGH,” begins with wistful synths reminiscent of “UNDERWATER BOI” from their previous album, before bursting into a powerful anthem. “DREAMING,” driven by ferocious hardcore riffs and explosive drumming, is the band’s signature single. But Turnstile doesn’t stop there. Instead, they invite a wider audience onto their stage. “I CARE” slows the tempo into a jangly pop groove while maintaining the band’s trademark dynamism, and “SUNSHOWER” showcases their expansive range, closing its aggressive rush with an ethereal flute passage. “MAGIC MAN,” composed with nothing but a single synthesizer, delivers deep resonance through Brendan Yates’s raw vocals and minimalist structure—no embellishment needed.
The key lies in how Turnstile weaves all of this together so organically. The David Bowie-reminiscent “SEEIN’ STARS” video—where fans who once moved to the music in their own ways now erupt in collective euphoria to the album’s most aggressive track, “BIRDS”—captures the band’s philosophy in motion. ”LOOK OUT FOR ME,” another standout, pays homage to Baltimore itself. Its video, which follows the band roaming the city to gather their friends, culminates in a rousing finale: as the rock instrumentation fades, a burst of Baltimore club–style electronic beats takes over. In that moment, surrounded by a sea of supporters running toward the light of life’s brightest moment, Turnstile’s spirit feels nothing short of exhilarating.

Some have criticized the album for being “too soft” for hardcore, dismissing its shift as a move toward commercial pop sensibilities. But Turnstile’s aim isn’t commercialization. Rooted in the flexibility and openness that Baltimore’s melting-pot culture instilled in them, the band seeks to translate the core values of hardcore—community and self-expression—into a universal language that more people can connect with. Just look at the rainbow-colored “Color Wall” that symbolizes this era of the band, or the visual album that accompanies it. Gone are the dark, grainy black-and-white aesthetics of the underground. In their place bloom pastel tones, surreal imagery, and a vision of rock as an inclusive space—free of boundaries of race, age, or gender. In Turnstile’s music, the primal spirit of hardcore—the sense of togetherness—comes alive again. It’s a space of liberation, where everyone becomes a protagonist, affirming each other’s presence and sharing energy in unison.
At Tiny Desk Concert on “NPR MUSIC,” frontman Brendan Yates addressed the crowd: “There's a lot of very important people in the room—family, people that are friends, people that we found music with, people that we made music with and newer friends as well. And all that to say, thank you for always being there. And I love you.” Then he dove into the audience—marking the first-ever stage dive in the 17-year history of Tiny Desk.
Franz Lyons has often spoken about Turnstile’s desire to close the gap between the band and the people who come to see them. The scenes at the Incheon Pentaport Rock Festival, NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert, and countless venues around the world—where fans dance shoulder to shoulder with the band—are living proof of that vision in action. Turnstile breaks down walls of hate and prejudice, and from their ruins, they let love and solidarity bloom. Like the lesson in “Jonathan Livingston Seagull”—that no bird is meant to fly alone—Turnstile soars freely across the vast sky, together with everyone.
