Live review: Camp Punksylvania: Day 2

Gilbert, PA – 21 June 2025

Heartfelt chaos powered by conga lines & mosh pits, sock puppets & Christmas music, sunburn & singalongs

By the time Day 2 rolled around at Camp Punksylvania, we were no longer strangers crammed into a campground, we were a living, breathing organism, pulsing to the beat of distorted guitars and sun-soaked adrenaline. We’d all simmered in each other’s sweat, shouted lyrics into the suffocatingly hot Pennsylvania air, and silently came together with the full force of every crowd-surf and mosh pit shove; a wordless consensus that we were all owed the time of our fucking lives. It was a weird and wonderful stew of stale beer, sunburn, and genuine human connection, vibrating off the goosebumps on our arms and hanging thick in the haze of dust and Malort.

Even better? I got to share it all with my 16-year-old. They’d come with me the year before, dipped a toe in the madness, and this year? They were all in. They’d wanted the full three-day experience, but prior obligations stole Day 1 from us. No way were they missing Day 2. Watching their face light up in a sea of beautiful weirdos was nothing short of magic, like seeing the torch pass in real time. And what a day to show up: the tentpole day, the main event, the air buzzed with the barely-contained chaos of a hundreds of overheated punks vibrating with antici…………………..pation for The Vandals, Get Dead and MakeWar. But before that final glorious meltdown? We had one hell of a pre-show carnival to rage through.

Saturday’s chaos kicked off with a punch to the heart thanks to Black Guy Fawkes & The Co-Conspirators. Outstanding as always, their emotionally charged, plugged-in set was purely magnetic. The moment their first notes rang out, people were drawn to the Union Cult stage like moths to a flame, pulled in by something deeper than sound. It was raw, it was honest, and it hit like truth wrapped in distortion. Just 36 hours before stepping on stage, they’d announced a new record, and you could feel the weight of that excitement in every chord. There was something sacred in that set, for a brief moment, amidst all the dust and noise, the whole crowd seemed to breathe in unison, fully present, fully alive.

As we made our way to the Riot Stage for the next set, we bumped into Grason (Restroyer, Racist Kramer) who was raving about the talented youngsters in the next act.  TGEFM has already been sold on the act, but Grason’s enthusiasm solidified it all, because If anyone at Camp Punx needed proof that the next generation of punk is alive, loud, and absolutely thriving, World of Chaos delivered it in thrash-y panache. These youngsters didn’t just show up to play… they arrived like seasoned pros with something to say and everything to prove. And prove it, they did.  Frontman Gabe, a familiar face from last year’s Camp via Kids In The Pit Podcast and a killer collab with Punk Rock Cellist, now stands front and center with a band that’s rewriting the script on what young punks can do. Their cover of Madball’s “Set It Off” hit like a wrecking ball; ferocious, confident, and gritty in all the right places. And just when the crowd thought they’d seen it all, World of Chaos doubled down on the charm by inviting even younger kids up to help belt out Blitzkrieg Bop. It was adorable. It was chaotic. It was punk as hell.

Seeing Snakes tore through their set with hard, fast, and loud precision.  So fast, in fact, they wrapped up early and had time to throw in an extra song. I don’t know if they said what the song was, but they did say it definitely wasn’t a Minor Threat cover, but it kept the energy high and the fun rolling. Hell Beach delivered pure, unadulterated rock and roll goodness during their Camp Punksylvania set, igniting the crowd with raw energy and undeniable charisma. From singalongs to clapalongs, the band had every hand in the air and every voice shouting along. At 1:46 p.m., they gave us a better time than we probably deserved, and we loved and appreciated every damned second of it.

The Chugs tore up the Union Cult Stage with a set entirely dedicated to Hamm’s beer, radiating chaos and camaraderie in equal measure. Their cover of “California” (reimagined as an ode to Minnesota) was a hilarious highlight—proof that the land of 10,000 lakes deserves its own melodramatic teen soap. By the end, the stage was swarmed with fans-turned-family, all shouting into shared mics and cementing a moment no one in that crowd will forget anytime soon.

Every year at Camp, a few bands hit the stage and completely knock the wind out of me—this time, it was Pucker Up on the Riot Stage doing the honors. The ferocious three-piece from Scranton delivered a relentless set that felt like a righteous punch in the throat to every power structure they called out. With snarling riffs and even nastier vocals, they tore through themes of misogyny, racism, and systemic rot with unflinching fury. Their message was loud, clear, and gloriously abrasive: fuck the patriarchy, fuck the powerful, and fuck you too.

Nashville ska-punk vets Stuck Lucky delivered a high-octane set that was equal parts danceable and aggressively cathartic. With Camp veteran Chris Ruckus (Dissidente, Mutiny) joining the chaos on keys, the genre-blending performance reached a whole new level of brilliance. From start to finish, it was a tightly wound burst of energy that left the crowd sweaty, smiling, and wanting more.

Back on the main stage, Rebelmatic reminded everyone exactly why their name carries weight. They first won me over three years ago with their debut, but their live set blew that record out of the water.  Rebelmatic brought an absolute force of hardcore anthems, relentless energy, and razor-sharp musicianship. The sun was merciless, scorching both the crowd and the stage, forcing frontman Creature to ditch his usual barefoot approach and add socks and shoes mid-set just to keep going. But even with the heat blazing, nothing burned hotter than the band itself; tight, urgent, and completely electrifying from start to finish.

The Best Of The Worst delivered an electrifying set that showcased their unique genre-blending mastery, debuting their blistering new track “Misogyny” to a fired-up crowd. Hailing from New Jersey, the band effortlessly swung between razor-sharp, crushing metalcore breakdowns and infectious ska-punk grooves, complete with vibrant horn lines that rival the best in the scene. One moment the pit was a violent whirl of moshing chaos, and the next it erupted into a joyous skank-fueled circle pit; every transition feeling seamless and intentional. TBOTW proved once again they’re not just masters of contrast, but of total live domination.

Channel 3 and Teenage Halloween delivered back-to-back sets that showcased punk’s enduring power and evolving energy. Channel 3, one of the genre’s early pioneers, reminded everyone exactly why they’ve stood the test of time, ripping through a powerful set that blended classic grit with undeniable presence. Following them, Asbury Park’s own Teenage Halloween lit up the stage with a dynamic, high-energy performance that had the crowd swelling forward and growing more animated with every song. By the end of their set, the front of the stage was packed tight, as new fans were made and even longtime listeners found themselves freshly impressed.

War on Women stormed the stage with unrelenting energy, led by the magnetic Shawna Potter, who balanced joyful dance moves and furious headbanging with fierce, fearless vocals that commanded the room. Her presence was so captivating it was nearly impossible to look away, even as the rest of the band played with infectious enthusiasm and grit. Their set was a defiant, venom-laced set chockful of punk with a purpose. 

Later in the evening, a tender moment stood out: bassist Sue Werner taking time to chat with my kid. That simple act captured why this scene matters: the power, the community, the accessibility.  That brief moment reminded me exactly why we show up and why we share it with the next generation.

Hans Gruber and the Die Hards delivered what may have been the biggest crowd yet at the Riot Stage, packing in energy, antics, and unforgettable moments. From a wild conga line during “Jump In The Line” to sock puppets making an appearance for “No No Bronto,” their set was pure chaos in the best way. They closed out with a massive horn section jam, inviting up any brass players nearby, including Tim from Escape From The Zoo and Marcus from the Punk Rock Saves Lives booth. Not to be outdone, Murphy’s Law turned their main stage set into a nonstop party, led by the ever-rowdy Jimmy Gestapo, who shared beer and the mic with fans while affectionately calling the younger crowd “meatballs.” Both bands delivered sets full of punk energy, crowd interaction, and raw, unfiltered fun.

This year’s performance by the Buffalo ass-kickers, Working Class Stiffs, at Camp Punksylvania marked the fourth time I’ve seen them over three years… and without question, it was their best yet. From the moment they hit the stage, their sound quality, stage presence, and unmistakable sense of brotherhood were firing on all cylinders. Even technical issues like a faulty kick pedal and some slippery steps that literally brought band members to the ground couldn’t derail them. True veterans of the Camp, they took everything in stride and somehow managed to improve on what was already a legacy of greatness.

Lee Ving is a legend, and Fear’s set proved that while he may not move like he did on the SNL stage decades ago, he’s far from losing his edge. Ving still relishes the art of provocation, gleefully pushing buttons with sharp political jabs, including shots at the current administration and an ill-conceived pitch to become the next leader of the free world (“because old white men haven’t had their chance…?”). Though the band’s stage presence was relatively static, the energy in the crowd was anything but, as fans pinballed off each other to blistering renditions of classics like “Let’s Have a War,” (especially timely given the Iranian bombings earlier that day) and “I Love Living in the City.”

Fat Wreck’s Brooklyn bi-lingual legends MakeWar followed up with their aggressive and impassioned ass-kicking on the Riot Stage. Lyrically and musically, things can get intense, but the long-haired trio were super chill on the stage and seemed to be happy just to have a chance to spend 30 minutes with all of us. It was a delightful expression of humility to see these dudes be dudes, kicking all the ass. MakeWar was out there reminding me of the fast, fun, non-hyphenated punk I loved so much before I got too fat (not wreck), too old and too jaded to believe I could make a difference.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, The Vandals took the main stage and closed it out in true Vandals fashion, ripping through fan favorites like “Anarchy Burger” and “My Girlfriend’s Dead.” They’ve been at this too long not to be a guaranteed good time, and tonight was no exception. True to form, the band leaned into their trademark goofiness; prancing, joking, and not taking a second of it too seriously. Hearing “Oi to the World” in the middle of a sweltering June night felt hilariously out of place (because, well, it’s still a Christmas song), but somehow it worked. The Vandals have built a career on being irreverent and ridiculous, and tonight they proved they’re still damn good at it.

Come Out Fighting delivered a raw, echoing set of Detroit hardcore that ricocheted off the concrete walls and kept reverberating long after their final note. A thunderous setlist was punctuated by a surprise cover of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” that hit with unexpected charm. Following them, On The Cinder brought high-energy punk with purpose, lacing sharp critiques of social ills with infectious hooks and undeniable singalong moments. Bassist Mike stood out for his genuine connection with the crowd, locking eyes and radiating compassion even from rows back. If a band’s power lies in how well they connect with their audience, On The Cinder are already among the elite.

Get Dead closed out day two of Camp Punksylvania with a raw, relentless, and passionate set that left the crowd buzzing. Their unique blend of skate punk, hardcore grit, and hip-hop influence brought an undeniable originality to the stage. The energy was chaotic in all the right ways, amplified by what looked like Jesse from Escape From The Zoo stage-diving and nearly landing on Swagger from Tail Light Rebellion. It was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, but one that perfectly captured the spirit of the night. Seeing the artists you love turn into fans themselves is part of what makes Camp Punk so special. It’s not just about the music, it’s about the community, the chaos, and the shared love for it all.

That’s the magic of Camp; it doesn’t just host us, it becomes a home for each of us. Because at its core, isn’t that what music and community are all about? The power to anchor themselves to a moment, to burn it into memory so deeply that even decades later, a single chord or shared lyric can bring our soul right back to that place.