It's never enough — the review practically writes itself. The world can't get enough of Baltimore hardcore quintet Turnstile, and it's easy to see why. There are few bands right now who've been able to ride the cresting wave of success to such heights with seemingly no drop-off in sight like Brendan Yates (vocals, synth, keys), Franz Lyons (bass), Daniel Fang (drums), Pat McCrory (guitar) and Meg Mills (guitar) — so much so that it's led to a level of disbelief among some detractors in the lead up to NEVER ENOUGH.
Collectively, it feels like the industry and some haters were simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. How can they possibly maintain this momentum? Are they not just diluting the scene and selling out? Doesn't it all just sound like more of the same? The questions swirled around online, but ultimately disappeared into the ether of the Internet. The fatal flaw was in failing to understand a band whose motivations are pure.
Following the critical and commercial success of 2021's GLOW ON, which earned Grammy nominations and established the band as a household name (a rarity amongst most in the genre), Turnstile return with one of 2025's most hotly anticipated albums, NEVER ENOUGH. In the years since, co-founding member Brady Ebert left the band and Mills was brought on permanently after filling in on tour. They've travelled the world and introduced a whole new wave of fans to the hardcore scene.
Sonically, little else has changed. NEVER ENOUGH's eponymous opener could be taken for "MYSTERY" if you didn't know any better. In fact, most of the new album sounds like the continuation of tracks left off GLOW ON.
Yet the vision feels bigger and bolder. The sprawling "LOOK OUT FOR ME," for example, clocks in at just under seven minutes and jumps from fast-paced breakdowns to a pulsating, dreamy instrumental outro. It's not your typical Turnstile song, and demands more from the listener in terms of a willingness to be open to the new. ("MAGIC MAN" is practically an ambient track and you know what? It works.)
Purists might miss the harder stuff, but the album still provides plenty of opportunities for stage dives and moshing ("SOLO," "BIRDS," "SUNSHOWER"). Turnstile play with the continuum of sound extremely well, wielding dynamics like soaring crescendos and serene decrescendos to create a truly immersive experience. Combined with the aesthetic coolness of the visuals, the intentionality of everything makes it feel like experiencing synesthesia.
While some will knock the band for being sellouts, Turnstile continue to arrive with the same raw, raucous energy that characterized their ascent. It doesn't feel like a gimmick and they remain staunch anti-gatekeepers. They also invite others into the tent, such as Paramore's Hayley Williams ("SEEIN' STARS") and singer-songwriter Faye Webster ("TIME IS HAPPENING"), bridging genres and audiences. Hardcore has always been a space that values diversity and inclusivity, and speaks truth to power.
On NEVER ENOUGH, Yates continues to explore the philosophical, existential, and abstract. It's wonderfully decontextualized and vague, which allows space for self-interpretation and introspection. "Running from yourself now" is one hell of an opening lyric. How do you know what is enough? How do you let go? How do you confront your fears? The album is catharsis in action.
Ultimately, there's something to be said about witnessing when it all comes together for a band in real-time. We live in a culture that openly invites cynicism and ironic detachment at every turn, so watching Turnstile achieve something increasingly rare — and keep it — is inspiring. Hopeful, even.
It probably sounds trite, but Turnstile's music is life-affirming in that way. NEVER ENOUGH is an open invite to be part of something and experience community. If that's not worthy of our continued respect and reverence, I'm not sure what is. Turnstile remain the ambassadors we need, and their latest album is proof of their lasting legacy.