Exposition Park felt more like a festival than a single-band show on Friday, Oct. 4, as fans flooded in early for Turnstile’s sold-out Los Angeles stop.

The air buzzed with anticipation and the smell of grass, sweat, and adrenaline. Merch booths lined the walkway outside the box office, with fans scrambling for limited-edition jackets, tees, and vinyl records long before the music began.

What unfolded wasn’t just another hardcore gig, it was proof that the scene has outgrown its basements and garages without losing its soul. Thanks, in no small part, to Turnstile.

The music kicked off with a roaring opener from Jane Remover before Sydney’s Speed took the stage. The Australian hardcore band had the crowd moving within seconds, demanding, “We wanna make the biggest circle pit in Exposition history.” Frontman Jem Siow reminded the crowd what hardcore was all about: “If you’re new here, welcome. Check out your local bands in backyards, check out your community, because that’s who we are.” Later, he laughed, recalling when he met Turnstile 15 years ago as “a nerdy Asian kid playing the flute.” He even pulled the instrument out for their closing track—a full-circle moment that had the crowd jumping.

 

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Turnstile at their sold-out show on Saturday, Oct. 4, at Exposition Park in Los Angeles.
(Photo by Nicole Busch)

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Next came Melbourne punk powerhouse Amyl and the Sniffers, led by the ever-electric Amy Taylor in a stone-age bikini set, barreling through their set with rebellious energy. Taylor has never shied from speaking her mind, and that night was no exception.

Mid-set, she paused to share her solidarity with Palestine and voice her disdain for ICE and Trump before shouting, “Hell yeah to trans people, to drag people, to women. Wow let’s go!” before launching into “Security.” It was raw, loud, and unapologetic. Exactly what punk should be.

By the time Turnstile took the stage around 9:50 p.m., the park was vibrating and ready. The Baltimore-bred band—known for blending hardcore with melody, funk, and pure feeling—burst into “Never Enough” and “T.L.C. (Turnstile Love Connection),” instantly transforming the grounds into a sea of motion. Fans sprinted toward the front quickly, diving into mosh pits, circling up, and screaming every lyric. “Thank you for looking out for each other,” frontman Brendan Yates said after the second song. “We’re so lucky to be here tonight celebrating music, celebrating community. We’ve been coming to LA for so long, and seeing how this family has grown. It’s so special. Thank you.”

At its core, the night was about community. Turnstile has built its reputation not just on sound but on spirit. What began as a scrappy DIY band playing basements in the early 2010s has evolved into a movement that’s brought hardcore into the mainstream spotlight like never before. They’ve been nominated for 4 Grammy Awards and yet, somehow, they’ve kept their heart intact. Their shows still feel intimate, like a backyard gig blown up to stadium scale.

The night also carried the pulse of Turnstile’s newest chapter, “Never Enough,” the band’s latest record and visual album released in June of this year, which leans into cool blues and cinematic storytelling while still holding onto its raw, hardcore edge. The stage glowed in deep ocean hues before bursting into streaks of rainbow light, mirroring the emotional push and pull of the album itself.

The band tore through “Real Thing” and “Drop” as massive circle pits opened up. Disco lights and a spinning mirror ball turned “Seein’ Stars” into a euphoric swirl of color, while “Holiday” and “Blackout” hit like a pulse through the crowd. Each song bled into the next, keeping the momentum alive. There was no time to breathe, and no one wanted to — the big screens showed fans crowd surfing, moshing and screaming like no tomorrow.

But amid the chaos, there was also softness. The cameras kept panning to kids in the audience, tiny fans with oversized shirts and noise-canceling headphones, headbanging on their parents’ shoulders. In the VIP section, a 5-year-old boy threw up rock signs beside his mom, Paola, grinning ear to ear as a cameraman zoomed in on him. “I asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday—Sky Zone or Turnstile,” Paola said with a laugh. “He didn’t even think about it. He said, ‘Turnstile.’” For her, it was about showing him where it all starts. “It’s about paving the way,” she said. “Turnstile’s such a fun band, they bring people together.”

That’s exactly what the night embodied: togetherness. Hardcore has always been rooted in that spirit —a space for outsiders, misfits, and anyone searching for a sense of belonging. And Turnstile, through their infectious joy and genre-bending energy, have expanded that community to be bigger than ever before.

As the set closed with “Birds,” Yates dove into the crowd, swallowed by a sea of arms under a wash of blue lights.

It didn’t matter if you were five or fifty, whether you grew up in the scene or stumbled into it for the first time, what mattered was being there, shoulder to shoulder, screaming, moshing, laughing, and letting go.