The Glass House in Pomona has seen its share of punk rock chaos over the years, but Friday night’s triple bill featuring The Adicts, Lower Class Brats, and The Drowns delivered something special—a reminder that the best punk shows aren’t just about the music, but about the community that forms in those sweaty, cramped spaces where strangers become allies for a few hours.
Opening the night, Seattle’s The Drowns wasted no time establishing their credentials with “Black Lung,” a track that immediately had the early arrivals nodding along to its driving rhythm. It even spawned a one-man mosh pit. The band’s blend of street punk and Oi! influences felt authentic rather than manufactured. “Wolves on the Throne” followed with its anthemic chorus, and by the time they hit “Ketamine & Cola,” the crowd was fully engaged, singing along to lyrics that balanced dark humor with genuine punk attitude.
The Drowns’ setlist smartly mixed their own material with well-chosen covers that showed their influences without overshadowing their identity. Their take on Sweet’s “The Ballroom Blitz” managed to maintain the original’s theatrical energy while giving it a proper punk treatment, and “Them Rats” showcased the band’s ability to write hooks that stick.
The highlight came during their closing number, a raucous version of Dead Kennedys’ “Nazi Punks Fuck Off”—a moment that felt both nostalgic and urgently relevant, with both bands’ members cramming onto the stage for a chaotic sing-along that set the tone for the evening’s spirit of punk solidarity.
Of course, they prefaced the song by talking about the recent incident with a Nazi getting shown the door at Punk Rock Bowling.
Lower Class Brats took the stage with the confidence of veterans who’ve been doing this long enough to know exactly what works. Opening with “New Seditionaries,” they immediately established their brand of melodic punk that owes as much to The Clash as it does to The Ramones.
The Austin-based quartet’s 13-song set drew heavily from their full catalog, with “All the Young Dudes Are Pissed” getting an enthusiastic response from the crowd. “P.G.L.” and “Psycho” showcased the band’s ability to write catchy punk anthems without sacrificing edge, while cuts like “Rumblestrip” and “Do It Again” proved they’re more than just singles.
The peak came during “Rather Be Hated,” a track that perfectly encapsulated punk’s outsider ethos, before they closed with “Ultra Violence,” leaving the crowd properly warmed up for the main event.
When The Adicts finally took the stage, the transformation was immediate and complete. What had been a standard punk venue suddenly became a theatrical wonderland, with frontman Monkey emerging in his signature white face paint, top hat, and flowing cape like some demented Victorian ringmaster.
The band launched into “Let’s Go” with the precision of a group that’s been perfecting their craft for over four decades, and the crowd responded with the fervor of true believers, a pit immediately opening up.
The Adicts’ 22-song set was a masterclass in punk theater, each song accompanied by visual elements that enhanced rather than distracted from the music.
“Joker in the Pack” provided the evening’s most humorous moment when Monkey began tossing playing cards into the crowd—a signature move that took an unexpected turn when one card boomeranged back and lodged itself perfectly in guitarist Kiki’s strap.
The sight of Kiki trying to shake it loose while maintaining his guitar parts, laughing throughout the ordeal, was hilarious. When he finally freed the card at song’s end, he handed it to a young fan in the front row.
The pageantry continued with “Horrorshow,” Monkey unfurled his umbrella full of confetti and streamers transforming the venue into a punk rock snow globe.
But beneath all the visual spectacle lay solid musicianship—drummer Fletcher Shears, filling in for Kid Dee, held down the rhythm section with the precision required for The Adicts’ theatrical timing, while the interplay between Highko Strom’s bass and Pete Dee’s guitar work provided the foundation for Monkey’s stage antics.
The setlist itself was a solid spread of The Adicts’ catalog, from early classics like “Straight Jacket” and “Numbers” to later favorites like “Chinese Takeaway” and “Bad Boy.”
“Viva la Revolution” had the entire venue singing along, while the closing one-two punch of “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” transformed the Glass House into something approaching a punk rock cathedral, complete with raised fists and voices united in harmony. And of course the giant white beach balls were flying.
What made the evening special wasn’t just The Adicts’ theatrical presence or the openers’ solid performances—it was the sense of community that punk rock at its best can create.
Throughout the night, generations mixed freely in the pit, with graying punkers in vintage band shirts standing shoulder to shoulder with young fans discovering The Adicts for the first time.
In an era of increasing division and digital isolation, watching strangers sing along to the same songs, laugh at the same absurd moments, and cheer for the same theatrical flourishes felt like a small act of rebellion against cynicism itself.
The Adicts may have been the headliners, but this was a night that belonged to everyone in the room—a reminder that the best punk shows aren’t just concerts, but temporary communities where outsiders become insiders, if only for a few hours.
