Concert review: Circle Jerks and Pennywise

Outside of a few local bands, I have seen the Circle Jerks more than just about any other group on the planet. Driving to the Van Buren last Wednesday night, I realized I’ve been attending their shows for forty years now, catching them in every single decade since the ‘80s. Safe to say, I love them.

I’ve also seen Pennywise before, though for the life of me, I can’t remember the when or the why.

Sadly, I missed both D.F.L. and H2O—a massive regret. I’m a big fan of D.F.L.; back in the Slope Records days, we were actually hoping to put out one of their records, but that’s a story for another time. As for H2O, my old band, North Side Kings (NSK), did a three-show run with them and Madball about twenty years ago. Since we played right before them, I used to know their set by heart.

As I walked up to will call, I ran into bassist Zander Schloss, whom I’ve interviewed in the past. Beyond playing bass for the Jerks, Zander puts out rad solo albums and used to share the stage with the late Joe Strummer. He asked me to mention that he “looked sexy” if I wrote about the show. So, there you go: he’s still handsome, charming, and a total blast to talk to.

After saying goodbye to Zander, I turned toward the box office and spotted Drea and Gaby of The Venomous Pinks. Drea and I go way back. She is the “Mrs. Squirrel” to my “Papa Squirrel”— a nod to our short-lived band, Naughty Little Squirrel Fuckers, which we formed back when Micah from AZPunk and I put together the first Thrash of the Titans benefit at Hollywood Alley.

Those were the days. Drea also used to sing “Bad Reputation” with NSK all the time.

She’s easily one of my favorite people in the music scene, which made it all the harder to see her and Gaby at the ticket window looking so sad and guarded. I don’t blame them one bit. Very recently, they lost their sister and drummer, Cassie Jalilie, after a brutal battle with cancer. Cassie was rad, and I feel privileged to have had a few long talks with her about the band and the fight she so bravely waged. I wanted to find the perfect words for Drea and Gaby, but in situations like this, perfect words don’t exist. We talked for a bit, and Drea introduced me to her super cool girlfriend. My old-man brain has misplaced her name at the moment, but I was just glad to see my friend finding a pocket of happiness on a tough day.

Heading to the back of the massive line, I marveled at how many people still turn out for legacy punk rock. The guys behind me were loud but genuinely funny, keeping the wait entertaining, while the couple in front of me spoke French. I kept spotting them throughout the night; they looked like they were soaking in a subculture they might never witness again.

Once inside, I crossed paths with Gerald and Jim. The conversation was good enough that I hung out a bit too long and—as mentioned—completely missed H2O. They sounded great from the street, though. Gerald and Jim are good dudes, and while I never mind going to a show alone, running into old friends is always a bonus.

Gigs like this are a stark reminder that Phoenix is now a massive city. The venue was sold out, yet I recognized fewer than ten people. Twenty years ago, I would have known at least 40% of a crowd like this. This time, the vast majority of the faces looking back at me were strangers.

As it got closer to Circle Jerks’ set time, I found Gerald again on the floor. Even though I knew our spot would soon become the epicenter of the mosh pit, it was fun to soak up the anticipatory energy alongside the Jerks’ traditional, ‘60s-inspired pre-show music. I think it was Herb Alpert, but don’t quote me on that.

When the band blasted into their set, the floor instantly erupted into a swirl of bodies. Drifting back to a safer spot on the edge of the pit, I realized I wouldn’t get a clear photo unless I used a human shield. I took a few good shoves, quickly remembered that I am old and fragile, and found a stout, friendly guy to stand behind while I snapped a few pics. I sang along to a bulk of the set, feeling pretty damn great to be there.

The setlist was packed with the usual favorites. These days, they play their tracks in blocks of four or five so Keith Morris can catch his breath and banter with the crowd. Keith has always been one of my favorite frontmen and a killer interview. We had talked about setting up a chat in the weeks leading up to the show, but the timing didn’t pan out. Next time, for sure.

Keith had plenty to say on Wednesday night. One comment that drew an audible mix of cheers and groans was his declaration that the world “needs an army of Luigi Mangiones” (the man accused of shooting UnitedHealthCare CEO Brian Thompson in December 2024). Whether you agree with his politics or not, Morris seemed intentionally focused on riling people up. A few agitated fans even shouted “play a fucking song!” during his longer monologues.

The Circle Jerks haven’t always had a harmonious history, and I wondered if this was a deliberate attempt to needle his bandmates. I sensed some tension on stage, but given how much time they’ve spent cooped up together on the road the last few years, I might just be reading into nothing.

Regardless of any friction, Joey Castillo (drums) and Greg Hetson (guitar) were absolutely on top of their games. Both are masters of their craft. Watching Joey C play made me wonder what it would be like to jam with him. I think it would be badass.

While it wasn’t the absolute best Circle Jerks set I’ve ever seen, they’ve never played a bad one. Personally, I would’ve loved to hear a few more deep cuts off Wonderful, and I’ve always been partial to “15 Minutes.” Still, it was a blast to watch them, and they seemed to be genuinely enjoying the camaraderie with the Pennywise guys.

I drifted around the venue until Pennywise took the stage, running into more old friends, including the great Steve Taylor. The crowd went absolutely feral for Pennywise. It’s always a little funny to me, but I have to remind myself that they’ve been a band for nearly forty years now; for a massive portion of this audience, Pennywise was likely their gateway into punk rock.

They are an incredibly tight live act. Their set was chock-full of recognizable anthems, and while I’m not historically a massive fan of their style, I confessed to Steve that what they do is still lightyears better than most bands out there. If I had to describe their sound, it owes a massive debt to Bad Religion, just with a much more upbeat, “happy” disposition. Calling them “Happy Religion” sounds incredibly lame so that I won’t do that, but the positive energy is undeniable. Guitarist Fletcher Dragge offered up some sharp commentary between songs about the state of the world, and man, that dude’s tone is massive. He, bassist Randy Bradbury, and drummer Byron McMackin locked in perfectly, delivering a powerhouse performance for a hyper-fanned crowd.

I’ve had a soft spot for the band ever since reading singer Jim Lindberg’s book, Punk Rock Dad. If I have any critique, it’s that Pennywise relies so heavily on giant, anthemic formulas that the songs can start to blur together after a while. However, their cover of Minor Threat’s self-titled track completely injected a fresh bolt of adrenaline into the room, and closing out with “Bro Hymn” is always a religious experience.

Ultimately, I’m incredibly glad I went, and I hope to catch both bands the next time they roll through. Maybe next time I’ll actually manage to time it right and catch the openers.

All my love goes out to my Venomous Pinks family.