Live review: Stoked For The Summer live at Stone Pony Summer Stage

Asbury Park, NJ – 16 August 2025

“The ghosts on the boardwalk keep you company where the city meets the sea”

Asbury Park was the site of a flood of punk rock memories, recalled and made, as The Bouncing Souls returned with their annual Stoked for the Summer fest at the Stone Pony Summer Stage. The years may have swapped out mohawks for mortgages and Vans for insoles, but none of that mattered once the first chord rang out. With a bill stacked with The Bouncing Souls, Lagwagon, Dillinger Four, H2O, and openers Crazy & The Brains and Spraynard, the crowd arrived armed with earplugs, ibuprofen, and the faint hope that our backs would hold out until the encore. For those members of the crowd who brought their kids to the show, it was a chance to see the scene through a fresh lens.  For the rest of us, for this one night, it was possible to believe we were all 16 again.

Crazy & The Brains opened with manic charm, the kind of energy that makes you forget you’re still only a beer and a half into the night. From Bayonne, they stormed the stage and immediately had the growing crowd leaning forward. Mid-set, they pulled out a young shredder named Ollie who crushed his time on guitar like he’d been waiting his whole life for that moment. Get that kid some vitamins because he’s got sick skills. The set brought the energy up across the crowd and proved right away that this festival wasn’t going to ease us in gently.

Next up was Asian Man Records 3-piece Spraynard. I didn’t think they played anymore, so imagine my surprise (and joy) when they were announced as an opener. The Pennsylvania trio hit the stage like they’d been saving this one up for years, attacking every note with a fervor that refused to let the summer heat slow anyone down. The heat should’ve knocked the edge off the pit, but instead, these three dudes from PA made it impossible to relax. The band was clearly beyond stoked (see what I did there?) that they were able to play with The Bouncing Souls. This was a clear bucket list item checked for Spraynard, and one we got to watch unfold in real time. It felt like a rare glimpse into a moment where the band was as wide-eyed as the crowd.

H2O took the 3rd position as the sun began to set, but they kept everything running hot. Toby Morse’s energy burned brighter than daylight — bounding into the pit, climbing barricades, throwing hand gestures like an old-school MC, and radiating the kind of sincere positivity only he can deliver. The set left me sore and bruised from pounding my chest with the lyrics and the push-pull into the stage, the kind of hurt that feels like proof you were exactly where you were supposed to be. A highlight came with “Guilty By Association,” when the singer of Pool Scum joined for a guest spot, but honestly, the whole thing was a masterclass in what keeps H2O timeless. Toby said it best: “It’s not a certain sound, it’s not a certain look. It’s a fucking attitude. It’s how we live our lives, it’s what makes this so fucking beautiful.” That gratitude and energy shone through every second, and by the time it was over, I was voiceless, purple in spots, and grinning like a kid again… which is about as close to heavenly as punk gets.

Dillinger Four didn’t know there would be as many kids here. They made a point of warning parents (3 songs too late) that they talk a lot of shit on Baby Jesus and cuss a lot. “If you have children and don’t want them to hate Baby Jesus and swear like Midwestern sailors, take them to the fucking beach or something.” After 20-some-odd years of fandom, I just busted my D4 cherry in June and while that performance was an outstanding first performance, this was the one I wanted. Paddy was a man possessed and every strum was a battle cry. The band tore through a setlist that spanned their entire career, each track delivered with grit, humor, and a glorious middle-finger attitude that made it impossible to stand still.

Then came Lagwagon, a set that felt like a reunion with an old friend. Joey Cape may sport a little more silver in the beard these days, but he’s still endearingly goofy and impossibly cool. We were treated to all my favorites “Falling Apart,” “Violins” and “E. Dagger,” as always, featuring the titular Erin Burkett. There was a bit of unexpected bodily chaos when Little Joe lost some of his lunch off stage right during the intro to “Sick” (a more fitting choice for the moment couldn’t exist). The punk legends even paid tribute to their heroes when they played “Everything Turns Grey,” an Agent Orange cover and thanks to a bit of calendar magic, they transported us from August 16 to “May 16” to get everyone singing, not just in the venue but across the boardwalk. Lagwagon has always been that band who can make you laugh, hurt, and sing at the top of your lungs all in the span of three minutes… tonight was no exception.

I was spent, my throat was shredded and, because I’m an old man my back was killing me. I could’ve left right there fully satisfied thanks to 5 killer performances, sets so good I almost forgot that a few goddammed legends were going to take the stage.

Following a few local charity giveaways, hometown heroes Bouncing Souls came out to close the evening with a raucous, bananas, insane, sick and every other superlative I can find in Webster’s and Roget’s.  The Bouncing Souls led the family sing-alongs with joy, chaos, and a sense of community that stretched from the barricade to the boardwalk. They opened with “Manthem,” dropped in the new track “Power,” and somehow made it feel like every single song in their 30-plus-year catalog had been written just for this moment. Parents hoisted kids onto shoulders, fans surfed across the crowd like it was still 1998, and when the others cleared the stage leaving only Greg and an acoustic guitar for “Ghosts on the Boardwalk,” it was hard not to get misty. By the time friends and fans stormed the mic for the closing sing-along, there wasn’t a dry eye or an empty heart left.

The Souls aren’t reinventing anything at this point.. and thank fuck for that. What they bring is history, chemistry, and the kind of passion that makes even long-faded patches on an old jean jacket feel alive again. It was loud, sweaty, ridiculous, and a little exhausting. It was absolutely everything it should have been. For one night, we weren’t older, slower, or sore. We were believers.