Reliably on point as ever, The Bouncing Souls’ new song ‘As One’ channels street punk on the bass, alongside their ever-present focus, a community strength cut with a darker edge. There’ll never be a time when we don’t welcome the sight of Greg Attonito swaggering his way through ‘True Believers’, chorus aflame and beers raised in salute. ‘Gone’ gives us the first anthem moment that we crave, with each singalong-second heartfelt. Calling this tour a Winter Circus feels a tad reductive after the moment of honesty that The Bouncing Souls conjure.

Of course, we’re here for the mini-festival atmosphere that Less Than Jake conjure at every show. It’s almost like a quality guarantee that could be stamped on every ticket: we know exactly what we’re going to get, and it’s going to satisfy our urges for healthy nostalgia and a time to dance like we’re in a field circa 2004. Red lights glint off thrown glasses as we’re swept into ‘History Of A Boring Town’ as Chris DeMakes conducts our singalong, and we’re in full voice from the second the drop hits. “It’s too fuckin’ easy to play here! You just go crazy for the first note,” the frontman laughs, and he’s right too. We’d still be bouncing off the walls if they read their shopping lists for ninety minutes, but their little touches of drama – the blasts of smoke, the synchronised jumps, the inflatable mascots, the masked rabble-rousers that leap onstage – fuel a show that reaches beyond the standard look back at the greatest hits. As Roger Lima takes over vocals for ‘Lie To Me’, a burst of magnificent optimism sends a crowd-surfer flipping and extending ropes of connection into the audience. No one needs to be told to create a “unity pit” for ‘Last One Out Of Liberty City’, and our shouts can’t be repressed as we’re flung into ‘All My Best Friends Are Metalheads’. Phones rise and shoes are lost from feet as even the security guards are bemused at the sight of folk in their fifties skanking like no tomorrow, while remaining word-perfect and in total sync with DeMakes. 

It’s always tricky for a band with such a long history to balance the old and the new – the anniversary retrospective hits with the newer numbers – but Less Than Jake seem to walk that tightrope with precision. Yes, most of the crowd are drawn by songs like ‘Johnny Quest Thinks We’re Sellouts’, its massive tension rising into a drop that crashes like a tidal wave with a note of longing on the fade out, or ‘The Science Of Selling Yourself Short’, a song that drags you back to a time when you could have been sincerely speaking those lyrics. However, while the newer songs peppering the set might not have the instant recognition of their hits, a track like ‘Walking Pipebomb’ is infused with their original energy like a teabag in hot water, the pressure cooker tempo radiating through tightly clicking rhythms. Meanwhile, ‘Sunny Side’ offers a gentler openness that finds something inspiring within the trumpet whirls that build as the song unfolds. DeMakes’ solo take on ‘The Brightest Bulb Has Burned Out’ is lush. Our emotion fills in the gaps left by the full band, and it’s our overwhelming singing that makes ‘Look What Happened’ so memorable live. We’re rapt until the last second when a glossy ‘Gainesville Rock City’ keeps us dancing until the howled finale. 

The healthy niche that Less Than Jake have carved for themselves, as purveyors of consistently party-oriented tunes cut with cynicism that fulfil our need for nostalgia without cliche, has proven to be a welcome part of every millennial punk’s year. They’re obviously a polished ska-punk machine by now, but it’s the community they’ve built around themselves which makes tonight shine, and the joy you see beaming from every corner of the venue elevates the band above many of their contemporaries. This Winter Circus is welcome to roll back into town any time. 

Kate Allvey

Words: Kate Allvey   Photos: Penny Bennett, Abbi Draper-Scott

The Meffs

“All we had to do is say we were a skate punk band and they let us in,” laughs drummer Lewis Copsey, but the Meffs are fooling no one. Their brand of old school punk renewed and boiled down to its essentials is a political wake up call, all shouted slogans and wobbly, ominous guitar solos from Lily Hopkins. “We’ve never seen a mosh pit in the morning time before,” she grins as we get in our first slam of the day to their cover of the Prodigy’s ‘Breathe’.‘Deathwish’ gets fists raised before we boo in ‘Broken Britain, Broken Brains’, rife with strong political statements and no compromise. The Meffs are effortlessly rowdy and purposeful, which is what makes them so powerfully dangerous to the establishment.

Dream State

Opening with a scream, Dream State deliver a rousing lunchtime boost, causing a waving sea of hands disproportionate to their time slot. Circle pits ripple as as Jessie Powell sweeps into the melody of ‘Still Dreaming’. “We have no management, we have no record label, we’re an independent fuckin’ band!” she screams as the synths rise on ‘Bloom’. It’s an admirable showing both for the pull on the crowd and a band who pour a drop of early originality into the day. ‘White Lies’, ferocious and introspective, sparks the first rave moment of the day, setting us up for more excitement.

Point North

Past and future combine with spacey effects and classic pop punk energy for Point North’s ‘World Vs Peace’. Spring loaded and caffeinated, they offer scant pauses but throw in big numbers one after another for their second trip to Slam Dunk, gathering enough fans along the way to cram their corner of the field. ‘Into the Dark’ belts out appealing melodic echoes and shred like a plane taking off and ‘Bring Me Down’’ cuts a bit deeper with a bass focus and a heavier darker breakdown, while a man dressed as a giant lobster crowd surfs merrily in front of this very promising early band. 

Movements

‘Afraid to Die’ slices into resonating sincerity as Movements appear on the main stage. They’re dwarfed by the setting but their sound is huge, ‘Lead Pipe’ booming out, carried by the rising wind.Slightly lofi and desperate with touches of desert rock,’Fail You’ bursts into realism, swerving in and out of focus. Movements boast a subtlety in their alt sound, ‘Full Circle’ an emotional stream of consciousness with cantering drums before ‘Colourblind’ jolts into life, illuminating the afternoon.

Heart Attack Man

They might be half an hour late onstage, but the Hammy Nation don’t care in the slightest. Heart Attack Man kick off with ‘Pitch Black’, more soulful than we remember and packed with good honest yelping plus enough guitar to shake the roof. ‘Leap Year’ with its maximised nineties guitar is a party song live, stacked with purity and joy in each note. We dance in the face of our own mortality to ‘Joyride the Pale Horse’ as Eric Egan bounces above us, one hand tucked behind his back. “This next song’s about dying!” The vocalist jokes, going double time through ‘Lay Down and Die’, giving us a brief space to air our resistance to the inevitable through the happiest nihilism of the day.

Rain City Drive

The crowd is massive and we’re bathing in the super atmospheric watery chimes of Rain City Drive’s ‘Lose My Composure’, complete with with pop droplets rising through depths of emotion. ‘Over Me’ booms heavy and light with stadium potential, channeling dreamlike nightclub energy with a sense of motion and a lovely acoustic finish before whirling straight into  ‘Wish You The Best’. All in black, they’re almost lost against the backdrop, their music speaking for itself.

Stray From the Path

If you’ve ever wanted to see an ocean of people losing their damn minds while Drew York spits bars, you need to catch Stray From The Path drop ‘Needful Things’ at Slam Dunk. It’s so dark, with threatening Freak On A Leash tuning that almost causes the clouds to break. ’May You Live Forever’ burns with combative cohesion, as York whirls onstage, a swaggering tornado, before ‘III’s air raid siren guitar kicks off the pit. Stay From the Path wear their hearts proudly on their  tattooed sleeves and we’re on the same wavelength for one of the tougher sets of the day. 

Mouth Culture

Grinding, vitriolic and glorious, Mouth Culture spill out of punkish britpop with glitching movie soundtrack rage. They’re eloquent and furious with the occasional fuzzy pause, and as a band they’re only getting stronger with each show. The smallest tent is packed out for their Slam Dunk debut, heads bouncing to ‘No Shame’ as vocalist Jack Voss shouts out his frustrations. ‘Dead in Love’ is full of noughties cuts with a harsher indie acidity and feathery guitar, the strange delicacy to guitar that reveals dramatic bass, and while it’s their first time here, we know for a certainty that Mouth Culture will be back.

Hot Mulligan

The appearance of Nathan ‘Tades’ Sanville on the main stage sparks a mass migration across the field, his first scream on ‘How Do You Know It’s Not Armadillo Shells?’ speeding up our feet. ‘Drink Milk and Run’ eases us into Hot Mulligan’s set with just a touch of whimsy, open and resonant with a seismic bass boom that skips into guitar waves. “Banter is hard and so am I,” jokes Sanville, his words appearing in full caps in our imagination. ‘Fly Move (The Whole Time)’ fits perfectly into a set that stretches across their back catalogue and is far too good for their time slot, wrapping us in the complex, honest embrace of Hot Mulligan’s vibrant world. 

Streetlight Manifesto

Bouncing back from their time away stronger than ever, the band with the biggest brass section in modern ska know how to bring it. ‘The Three Of Us’ sends them crashing into view: it’s incredibly tight, Tomas Kalnoky’s slightly rough around the edges vocals, their take still innovative and narrative-focused. Their small but determined cult following are absolutely overjoyed to hear ‘We Will Fall Together’ as spontaneously dancing stretches out to the back of the tent, the song faster than we remember but just as fast as it needs to be. Streetlight Manifesto have been away for far too long and we’re as desperate for their idiosyncratic ska professionalism as ever. 

The Used

“Tonight, we are celebrating 25 years of the Used,” declares Bert McCracken, and “celebrate” is the right word. Even if you’ve said goodbye to your teenage emo self, you’re drawn to the Used in full force today. ‘Let It Bleed’ sparks a rapturous dance before ‘All That I’ve Got’ builds to a solemn and sincere singalong, a beautiful moment in remembrance of how we survived the bad times. The frontman knows how to play us with his trademark good-humoured antagonism, slowing, breaking and rebuilding each song before encouraging the old tradition of booing. The Used have found a niche as elder emo icons and reliably put on a show that brightens our blackened hearts.

Less Than Jake

There’s a small corner of the world for whom Less Than Jake are incredibly important, and that segment of the punk population are out in force today. The tent is rammed long before opening classic ‘Gainesville Rock City’, and it’s not pure nostalgia that’s driving us. As Chris DeMakes puts it, they’re “still Less Than Jake”, capable of turning any show into a mini stadium. ‘Lie To Me’ sparks into ‘Johnny Quest Thinks We’re Sellouts’ as beachballs bounce across the pit, and new song ‘Walking Pipebomb’ proves Less Than Jake are still a powerhouse capable of bringing the good times. 

Electric Callboy

We expect maximalism from the Germans, but somehow we were still unprepared for how much they threw at us. For many, Electric Callboy were the band of the festival, and the sight of the vast Main Stage West crammed with neon fans jamming to self-described porno-metal was the stuff that festival dreams are made of. ‘Elevator Operator’ sends the fireworks flying and the highlighted fringes from the dual vocalists flicking as we’re ‘Dancing Like A Ninja’ to their irreverent pop gold. Their brief moments of seriousness are iconic: as they’ve roped in Frank Zummo, ex-Sum 41, on drums, why not drop in a cover of ‘Still Waiting’? It’s the perfect song to resonate with the nostalgic crowd. Equally perfect is their setup for a romantic, campfire cover of Linkin Park’s ‘Crawling’, and the waves of recognition as we get the joke feel like a communal hug. New single ‘Revery’ gets it’s live debut, fitting in seamlessly to a rare set where every single song is a banger. 

Alkaline Trio

Confetti dropped during ‘Hypa Hypa’ drifts into the Monster Stage tent like ashes as the darker corner of Slam Dunk is illuminated by Alkaline Trio. ‘Time To Waste’ sets the tone with greater emphasis on harmony and realism for a very straightforward set with a focus on the music, the same energy they set out on their last album. Far more punk than they’ve been in a long time, ‘Armageddon’ is played with pauses to make the song about our response as vocalist Matt Skiba lets out rough screams on each chorus before ‘Bad Time’ screeches into life, a welcome, chunky addition to their classics. Take away the shiny production, as Alkaline Trio have today, and they’ve still got a punk ethic that hits hard. ‘Stupid Kid’ blends into a ringing, optimistic take on ‘Calling All Skeletons’ before the elder statesmen of the day slow ‘Sadie’ for maximum goth drama. As ever, Alkaline Trio are a black coffee, refreshing and bitter to finish a rich day of music on the second stage. 

Hot Milk

“This song is a social commentary about the state of England: it’s called ‘Gone to Shit’,“ screams Hannah Mee, tougher than she seemed on Hot Milk’s last trip to the South. Sure, the majority of the crowd today are headed to the biggest stages but those who are crammed in for ‘Horror Show’ are loving the intimate set addressed to them, Hot Milk’s intensity razor sharp. As the lights glow purple, she’s clearly entered her goth era, all steely focus for ‘I Just Wanna Know What Happens When I’m Dead’. ‘Zone Out’ gives an opportunity to shows off her pipes for a closeout dark rave that starts a jump for those who feel the emotion that is Hot Milk.

A Day To Remember

The boys from Florida have one mission; to keep the party going for as long as possible. Of course, some festival=goers have called it a day by now, but it’s worth braving the inevitable transport chaos to see A Day To Remember doing what they do best. ‘Bad Blood’ streams into a slapping, assertive ‘Paranoia’, and their take on ‘Rescue Me’ shows they are capable of brining a prettiness to their metalcore / pop punk mashup, their synths lost in smokes and hoards of bouncing inflatables. In some ways, this feels a little understated compared to Electric Callboy, but A Day To Remember are providing what we need right now: an afterparty before the afterparty, a boost of closeout energy. ‘Have Faith In Me’, dedicated to the ladies in the crowd, is uplifting and joyous.

The sense of simple fun that A Day To Remember bring to their show is what makes them such a good final act. We completely embrace their cover of Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Since U Been Gone’ as Cookie Monster crowdsurfs to the front, before ‘All My Friends’ pushes out waves of euphoria across the darkened field. ‘You Be Tails, I’ll Be Sonic’ feels like a metaphor for the whole day: casually presented but the finest quality, occasionally whimsical and always tempting you to slam.  Frontman Jeremy McKinnon dares us to ‘crowd surf on top of a crowd surfer’ during the pop punk life goal that is ‘LeBron’, and that blend of appealing immaturity mashed into the pyro emotional freedom of ‘Resentment’ is what drives A Day To Remember are still a top-tier headliner. 

Lead single ‘Sunny Side’ is a throwback delight, with a video to match ‘The Science of Selling Yourself Short’ only with more pirate ships and an easygoing message of optimism. Bassist Roger Lima says “’Sunny Side’ is like a reminder to actively make an effort to live in the present. Move past your old haunts and be the absolute best version of you that you can,” and he’s bang on. It’s a three-minute, horn-heavy oasis of nostalgia. The LTJ hallmark of “peppy melody meets self-critical lyrics” is out in force on ‘Broken Words’, but there’s a lilting twist towards resilience in between the pop-punk riffs and gutsy tooting. ‘Walking Pipebomb’  carries on in the same vein only twice as fast, because what else gets you out doldrums like the chance to start a nineties skank pit? Open up the windows and let in the horn section on ‘Brand New Day’ for to reveal an escape route from the winter blues. 

Ok, this isn’t the EP which will kick start another ska revival (partly because in some DIY circles, the last one isn’t over yet). But there is a time and a place for a solid, inoffensive record from a reliably fun and unchallenging band, crammed with open, relatable lyrics and candy-coated horn parts. With the state of the world as it stands at the end of 2024, a new Less Than Jake EP feels like a joy, an old friend swinging back through town for a few days, bringing memories of good times and a promise to be back again next summer as they are every year.

KATE ALLVEY

Less Than Jake have been providing the quintessential ska punk sound for a long time and there’s something so comforting in their appearances, like old school friends who appear to crash on your sofa every few years. They aren’t aiming to shatter boundaries any more in their role as Bowling For Soup’s support, just to “rile everybody up.” ‘All My Beat Friends Are Metalheads’ comes with a call to flip our hands into horns and a word perfect singalong punctuated with inflatable dancers follows. They shout out to Nandos and Cardiff (“the diff”), and the whiplash tempo changes of ‘Plastic Cup Politics’ inspires as much skanking as the limited elbow space of the pit will allow. ‘Gainesville Rock City’ is their final power statement, and there’s just something so pure and satisfying about finishing with a chance to dance our frustrations out of our system. 

“Who wants to have the best night of the their lives?” Bowling For Soup’s frontman Jaret Reddick calls after their animated intro song. “Well, that won’t happen tonight. How about we have a fucking outstanding night instead?” He wholeheartedly leans into the band’s reputation as losers with frequent self-deprecating jokes. Their humour, as a whole, is gentle and silly. ‘My Wena’ is performed with cartoon hotdogs behind them, as if you didn’t guess what the song is about, and they stop halfway through ‘Punk Rock 101’ for a photo opportunity.

It’d take an exceptionally cold punk purist not to be won over by their antics and, to top it off, most of the setlist is fast, slick and really well executed. ‘Two-Seater’ (“A lesson in love and love lost; a valuable lesson that you should never vandalise your ex gf’s car”) is a perfect blend of game graphics and petty crime with a skipping beat and adorable vocals, a satisfying fade between a drifting bridge and even a proper harmony or two. It slots in perfectly with ‘Life After Lisa’s thrashy sitcom soundtrack vibes. ‘High School Never Ends’ has aged well and lights up the room with heartwarming rock star call-outs and callbacks.

About halfway through the show, the cartoon backdrops are switched off. Reddick stands alone under a spotlight without his usual silly grin. “I want to talk about mental health,” he says, a sudden sad note in his voice. In 2013, he reveals, he’d intended to quit the band after their UK tour. “I’m a depressed, anxious individual,” he confesses, “I still battle with it every single day.” The vocalist raises his head. “No one here is alone and no one is immune!” And then, like a sobering lightning bolt, the atmosphere transforms. ‘Turbulence’ is a reassurance, a hug, a message plainly spoken and the whole area bursts with life, raising our phones like diamonds. For three minutes, they are a punk rock band, and an impressive one at that. “Sing with me,” asks Reddick softly and we do, our voices soaring with hope. As the lights fade out, he bites his lip and just for a moment his eyes lower.

Then the window closes and we’re back to normal, or at least the version of it we expect at a Bowling For Soup show, with squeaky voice karaoke competitions and jokes about vaginas. ‘The Bitch Song’ receives an outpouring of love and fist bumps, and, of course, ‘Girl All The Bad Guys Want’ is a punch of energy. The pit inflates into a fulfilling singalong with whole bodies pushed into the lyrics. The band sit down on plastic stairs, as if waiting at a bus stop, watching us cheer for the encore. The delayed gratification of the banter before ‘1985’ pays off and they leave us with a rock number that absolutely works for them, rich with retro chord changes. 

We’re no closer to working out if Bowling For Soup are ‘for real’ or not, but we can be certain that they are genuinely very talented at what they do. The band have found their niche as accessible comic rockers, humble and self aware, and they are loved for it. Perhaps, with the courage to be more honest like they showed they can be tonight, they could finally get the respect they clearly deserve. 

KATE ALLVEY