On the second night of Punk in Drublic’s closing weekend at San Pedro Pier, punk legends The Descendents proved that aging doesn’t have to mean slowing down — at least not when Milo’s behind the mic and the rest of the band is blasting through 25 songs in just under an hour. The crowd, sunburned and beer-soaked from the previous day’s chaos, somehow found the energy to throw down again, and The Descendents gave them every reason to.
With the Pacific breeze whipping across the pier and freighters crawling along the horizon, the stage setup felt more backyard party than corporate fest — a perfect fit for a band that still plays like they’re in someone's garage. As they walked out with minimal fanfare, Milo simply nodded to the crowd and kicked straight into “Feel This.” No build-up, no intro, just instant punch to the gut. It was everything you want from a Descendents opener: fast, clean, and screaming with purpose.
They tore into “Hope” and “Silly Girl” right after, both met with deafening singalongs. These songs, written decades ago about awkward love and romantic disillusionment, still feel completely relevant — maybe because growing up never really gets easier. And in Milo’s voice, still snappy and defiant at 60+, there’s a clarity that cuts through all the distortion. He's not phoning it in. He's still pissed. Still awkward. Still Milo.
Then came the sprints: “I Wanna Be a Bear,” “Clean Sheets,” “Everything Sux,” and “Victim of Me.” The pit exploded. Crowd surfers flailed across shoulders. Beer rained from above. The setlist was a masterclass in pacing — tight bursts of mayhem, strategically sequenced with brief, slightly-less-manic breathers. “I Like Food” lasted all of 15 seconds and still felt like a full meal. “Rotting Out” and “Myage” followed, reminding everyone why The Descendents are as influential to hardcore as they are to pop-punk.
“My Dad Sucks” hit like it always does — raw and funny and juvenile in all the right ways. “'Merican” felt heavier than usual, its political sarcasm ringing sharper against the backdrop of a country that seems to keep cycling through its worst habits. And then came a near-perfect stretch: “I'm Not a Punk,” “Weinerschnitzel,” and “When I Get Old.” Each song clocked in at under two minutes, and each one got louder reactions than the last. “When I Get Old” in particular felt like a communal anthem, with a crowd full of aging punks singing along like it was prophecy they’re somehow living out in real time.
“Coolidge” and “Coffee Mug” kept the pace absurdly high, with Karl Alvarez’s bass thundering underneath and Bill Stevenson still hitting like a damn machine behind the kit. He’s the kind of drummer that doesn’t need to show off — he just destroys the beat, keeps everything grounded, and lets the chaos float on top. He is, without a doubt, still one of punk’s best.
“I Don’t Want to Grow Up” brought the biggest nostalgia howl of the night — a reminder that The Descendents were writing about existential dread before most punk bands could tune their guitars. “I’m the One” was another highlight, with Milo’s voice cutting through like he meant every line all over again. And then came “Bikeage,” arguably the emotional core of the set. It’s not often you see a pit slow down because people are just standing and listening. But that happened.
After that, it was a sprint to the end: “Thank You,” “Suburban Home,” and “Smile.” The closing combo landed like a statement. No encore. No drawn-out farewell. Just “Smile” — short, sweet, and exactly the kind of sendoff a band like The Descendents would give: punchy, warm, and weirdly sincere beneath all the distortion.
There were no big speeches, no banners, no fancy production tricks. Just four guys, a blistering setlist, and the kind of chemistry that you can’t fake after 40 years of doing this. Milo cracked a few dry jokes, Karl grinned through every note, Stephen Egerton moved like he was still playing house shows, and Bill barely looked like he broke a sweat. This wasn’t a band going through the motions — this was a band that still gives a damn, and still knows how to hit you right where it hurts, then laugh about it.
Standout moments: a perfectly structured setlist blending breakneck punk bursts with melodic, heartfelt throwbacks; rarely played tracks like “Feel This” and “Rotting Out” thrown in with classics; crowd-wide singalongs to “Hope,” “When I Get Old,” and “I Don’t Want to Grow Up”; the sunset over the pier during “Coolidge” casting the perfect glow over one of punk’s most enduring bands.
Final verdict: ★★★★½ – The Descendents reminded everyone why they’re the bridge between snot-nosed rebellion and emotional honesty. At Punk in Drublic, they didn’t just play the hits — they played like they still meant every word. And the crowd believed it.