Turnstile: can hardcore punk’s biggest band conquer the mainstream?
All music scenes have a splintering. In 1989, grunge fans were excited about Nirvana and Tad. By 1991 it was a different story. One had transcended a scene. The other remained simply a part of it. And so to Turnstile, the Baltimore, Maryland-based five-piece who arrive at their third album, Glow On, on the precipice of becoming the standout band of the new hardcore punk scene.
Many of the bands who made up this wave, which first got pulses racing in 2018, have since delivered on the hype: Higher Power’s 27 Miles Underwater and Code Orange’s Underneath were among the best hardcore punk releases of last year. But it takes around 45 seconds of Glow On’s thrusting, anthemic opener Mystery to realise that Turnstile are no longer just a great hardcore punk band, but a great rock one, too. Maybe even more, given the hints of soul, electronica and psychedelia to be found within.
“We are a hardcore band,” says singer Brendan Yates of the high-speed, hyper-aggressive take on punk that emerged in 80s America. “That’s the scene we come from. But one of the things that drew me to hardcore and punk in the first place, the thing I always believed it was fundamentally about, was that it was a place for open minds and for people who want to challenge norms. I think any label can constrain you. We never wanted to exist inside a box.”
Yates came to hardcore aged 10 or 11. It wasn’t long before he and his neighbour Brady Ebert (who plays guitar in Turnstile) formed their first band, the frantic One Step Too Many. But Yates’s tastes were always broad. His parents played Motown and soundtracks for old musicals; his grandfather was a noted jazz pianist. One of the first presents Yates received was a drum kit.
“But it was my sister who really got me going,” he says. “She was much older than me – she was in her teens when I was born. She’d make me mixtapes of local punk bands, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana or the Wu-Tang Clan. And I was obsessed with the radio. I’d always be calling in to make a request. I still do that.”
Turnstile formed in 2010 after Yates realised he needed a canvas for his creativity beyond Trapped Under Ice, the New York hardcore-inspired band in which he was playing drums. He and Ebert recruited Trapped Under Ice’s merch guy Franz Lyons on bass. Daniel Fang, a friend from Yates’s short-lived university stint, joined on drums. In 2015, after guitarist Sean Cullen quit, they recruited Pat McCrory of indie band Angel Du$t.
This is when hardcore’s glass ceiling started to crack. Turnstile’s third, EP Move Thru Me, made the Billboard charts; that, and a reputation for fevered live shows, led to a majorlabel deal. They were signed by rapper
Cody B Ware (Lyons – as his rap alter ego “Freaky Franz” – has guested with Ware’s group, World’s Fair). Turnstile’s second album, Time & Space, even received acclaim from GQ and the New York Times.
The new record – released, like the music of so many of the hardcore bands acclaimed in 2018, on venerable heavy music stable Roadrunner – is produced by Mike Elizondo, whose co-writing credits include megahits such as 50 Cent’s In Da Club, Eminem’s Just Lose It and Family Affair by Mary J Blige. The producer nurtured Turnstile’s ambitious musicality. Recent single Blackout adds swampy synth to its swell. Wild Wrld has a groove rarely heard within the rigidity of hardcore punk, while the lolloping Alien Love Call – featuring Dev Hynes AKA Blood Orange – adds an altogether new colour to the band’s palate.
“It was an honour to work with [Hynes],” says Yates. “I like the way he sees music. When we write songs, we’ll often send them out around our close circle of friends. Collaboration is exciting, and I’ve lost track of the number of times that someone has suggested something that we might not have arrived at.”
Despite the collaborative mindset, these are deeply personal, introspective songs. Yates writes the words, which often scan like poetry – a far cry from the macho posturing that often infuses hardcore. “They’re very personal, like snapshots of where I’m at in my life,” he says. He’s reluctant to dig into details; he values the songs’ “open-endedness” and ability to mean something different to each listener. “I value vulnerability,” he says. “I need to feel uncomfortable, like I’m showing something of myself. It’s helped me work myself out.”
The band put their money where their mouths are. They’ve previously donated merch profits to pay bail for those imprisoned during BLM protests. When they tour, they put anyone with refugee status on the guestlist.
“I want Turnstile to maintain the sense of community we found in hardcore,” says Yates. “But I want a bigger community, to connect with as many people as possible. I’d like them to feel like I did when I discovered music – like magic existed, like anything was possible. That’s such an amazing feeling, isn’t it? I think we should all try to carry that as far as we can in our lives.”