The Descendents, a band that helped pioneer Southern California’s melodic hardcore sound, brought frenetic energy and catchy singalong choruses to San Antonio’s Aztec Theatre on Saturday night.
The crowd surged to the front as the band tore through a set of classics including “I Don’t Wanna Grow Up,” “Silly Girl,” “Good, Good Things,” “Bikeage,” “I’m the One” and more.
Despite the catchiness of the tunes, the pit was downright perilous. The crowd crushed and squeezed with more intensity than the most ferocious hardcore show. To bastardize the meme adage, if the frontman looks like Milo, you’re going to die in this pit.
Headbangers and crowsurfers spanned generations, proving the evergreen nature of songs about teen angst nearly 50 years after the band’s formation.
“We’ll make some music to entertain whilst bombs are exploding in fucking Iran,” Milo Aukerman said shortly before launching into opening track “Everything Sux.”
Guitarist Stephen Egerton delivered with trademark technical proficiency and raw energy while wearing a shirt repping Night Birds, an acclaimed hardcore band out of New Jersey active in the early 2000s. I remember seeing Night Birds at CBGBs before the venue got turned into a T-shirt store. Much like the California-grown Descendents, they incorporate surf rock into their sound.
Yet another group influenced by the Descendents sound, British opener Frank Turner and his band the Sleeping Souls opened the show with a blend of folk, punk and pop.
This opener was a departure from previous opening acts, such as the Circle Jerks, who shared the stage with the Descendents and Adolescents at San Antonio at Vibes Underground in March 2024. Rather than leaning into their grittier punk bona fides, Saturday’s choice of opener leaned into the Descendents’ softer side.
The Descendents did, after all, help to spawn an entire genre of pop punks and emo kids. And like the Descendents track goes, “I’m not a punk, how can I be?”
Many descriptors came to mind while watching Frank Turner, such as “youth pastor music,” “prescription drug commercial” and a toothless Pogues — let’s call them the Fauxges. But one descriptor that didn’t come to mind was “punk.”
Actually, I’ve never heard a less punk show call itself a punk show more throughout a set. Turner swore more than the average punk frontman, but even that seemed forced. Are you wearing a wire?
“I know that historically the acoustic guitar is an instrument that has been used for great evil, but tonight we’re going to use it for punk rock,” Turner said, before using the acoustic exactly the way every other “acoustic guitar guy” has used it in every coffee shop since the dawn of time.
Instead of a wall of death, he led the crowd in a “wall of hugs,” to further underscore my point.
But I was outnumbered in my lack of enthusiasm. The crowd sang along and Turner brought endless energy and charm, calling the crowd his “friends,” speaking out in solidarity with Minneapolis and charging us in song to “be more kind.” Maybe I could use the lesson.
Photos by Jaime Monzon.
