The crowd came in from every direction. From the northwest, they scrambled down the hillside from The Baltimore Museum of Art. To the east, they shimmied up the old oak trees near Charles Street. Looking south, from pit to playground across the 16-acre Wyman Park Dell, there were people—reportedly more than 10,000—literally as far as the eye could see.
Whether new fans or longtime followers, they were all packed in to catch a free pop-up concert from Turnstile—the local hardcore band that cut their chops on the city’s underground scene before skyrocketing to national stardom in recent years. They’ve been nominated for Grammys, performed Tiny Desk concerts, filled arenas alongside the likes of Blink-182, and become “one of the most popular punk bands of [their] era,” as The New York Times just put it.
Though by all evidence, beneath an almost full moon on a high-spring Saturday night in Charles Village, it was clear they haven’t forgotten where they come from. And Baltimore certainly hadn’t, either, though the deeply diverse crowd—old-head punks, Hopkins students, teens in the band’s T-shirts, moshers in bikinis or dressed up in banana costumes, parents with earmuffed babies on their shoulders—hailed from near and far.
As the band launched in with the new title track off their forthcoming fourth album, Never Enough (out on June 6 via Roadrunner Records), a pool-size mosh pit had already swirled into formation, and within the first few lyrics, an endless succession of stage-divers—including a few impossibly cool children—started to lap up and leap off the temporary platform with its colorfully paneled backdrop, surfing with euphoric abandon across the open arms of sweat-covered strangers. At one point, the pandemonium even shook one of the speakers loose, causing them to briefly halt the show.
It was a super-size version of their surprise show at the Clifton Park Bandshell four years ago, now with a whole new context—their musical ascendance seeming like some sort of testament to not only their talents, but the city, too, and its DIY spirit.
“We’re just so happy to be home,” said frontman Brendan Yates halfway through the show, thanking the audience and crew before howling into the opening of “Don’t Play,” off their 2021 breakthrough album, Glow On, as bassist Franz Lyons ripped across the stage.
Produced by Baltimore’s own Unregistered Nurse Booking, with a local team of several dozen helping with everything from sound to security, the show served as a benefit concert for Health Care for the Homeless, with QR codes posted around the park for pay-what-you-can donations. More than $35,000 was raised by Monday afternoon, which will go toward a variety of services for individuals who are unhoused, from health and dental care to therapy and substance abuse treatment. For their 40th anniversary, the non-profit hopes to raise an additional $5,000, or more, in the coming days.
At the end of Turnstile’s roughly hour-long set, after careening through their final song, “Birds,” also off Never Enough, the music fell into an ambient hum. Guitarist Pat McCrory gave high-fives to fans. Drummer Daniel Fang threw out a stash of drumsticks. Yates flipped into the crowd, and before long, Meg Mills, the band’s new guitarist from the UK, did, too.
“Holy shit,” chanted those lingering in the front row, as the band walked off and the crew began to break down the stage.
Eventually, the crowd ambled back out of the Dell—in some sort of awestruck daze, fanatically recounting the evening, a fever dream—into the Baltimore night.