Marking one of the largest rock festival turnouts in the state and the largest concert attendance ever here in Long Beach, Vans Warped Tour has firmly cemented itself into both Long Beach culture and history. And it goes beyond the wild crowd, where beautiful aerials showcased an ever-shifting array of circle pits and altering tides of people against a DTLB-meets-the-ocean backdrop.
It was the alchemic amalgamation of artists and their fans—both proudly old and beautifully young. The brilliantly balanced dance between organizers—a perfectly united hand-hold between Insomniac, typically known for its EDM-centric celebrations, and Vans Warped Tour—and the actually-on-the-ground, very-much-local community—myself, along with local organizations like the DTLB Alliance and Visit LB, worked with the tour team to create food collabs between restaurants and bands for attendees to explore before, during, and after the festival.
And it was certainly the fact that, throughout the festival, Long Beach wasn’t dismissed with misnomers like “SoCal;” it was given its proper due, both as a space of music history and a charmingly complex culture. It was the rather sweet note of Falling in Reverse walking out to “California Love.” It was long-time Pennywise guitarist Fletcher Dragge joining Sublime to recognize that—though Pennywise might be from up the freeway in Hermosa Beach—they were still on Bradley Nowell’s turf. And it was artists not thanking “L.A.” but Long Beach. It was older rockers who were unafraid to discuss their age and ties to the city they were playing in.
Vans Warped Tour became, within the span of two days, embedded into Long Beach.
Long Beach’s Sublime takes their namesake with, well, a sublimely one-of-kind set at Vans Warped Tour.
Few bands are as synonymous with Long Beach culture as Sublime.
Formed in 1988, the trio—Bradley Nowell, drummer Bud Gaugh, and bassist Eric Wilson, the latter two Bradley’s son, Jakob, rightfully refers to as his uncles—channeled the soul of the city into a fusion of punk, ska, reggae, and surf-rock grit. Sublime wasn’t just a band; it was the sound of backyard barbecues. Alleyway parties. Beach-cruiser afternoons. And the raw, sun-baked stories of a working-class port town.
Bradley’s death in 1996 could have been the end of that story. Instead, nearly three decades later, his son Jakob has picked up the mic—not as a mimic, but as an evolution. With Jakob fronting Sublime, it’s not just about nostalgia; it’s a living lineage. He’s bringing new energy, new perspective, and, most importantly, keeping the music alive in the city that raised it. And Long Beach, though tinged with self-induced allergies to change, has always been about reinvention.
And Jakob’s role in Sublime is less about stepping into his father’s shoes and more about keeping the barefoot spirit of the band moving forward. Which is precisely why premiering a new Sublime song, “Ensenada,” became a truly awe-inspiring moment for both longtime and new fans alike. Add onto this Long Beach Shortbus and Sublime alumn Trey Pangborn strutting around in Phuket Thai shirts—a deep dive into Long Beach food culture: it was a former Thai spot in Belmont Shore that sold shirts which played with the mispronunciation of its name as an expletive—and Pennywise guitarist Fletcher Dragge joining in to honor Bradley, you have yourselves the perfect ode to Sublime and Long Beach.
The influence of the Long Beach iteration of Vans Warped Tour is sure to ripple for years.
It wasn’t just All-American Rejects frontman Tyson Ritter who silently mouthed a “Wow” when stepping out onto stage at the Vans Warped Tour in Long Beach. This particular iteration marked the tour’s largest crowd yet—some 84,000 people each day—and it wasn’t lost on nearly anyone. Every time a band stepped out, perhaps minus those in the early hours of each day, they realized the sea of people was a specific concoction of fans and, most importantly, the value of the Vans Warped Tour as a brand, concept, and historical cog for rock lovers.
It was safe to say that each band respected that Kevin Lyman, the founder of the tour, was providing them with this opportunity. And, if I may dare creep up on the ego of each rocker, they knew they couldn’t pull this crowd on their own. And the fact that Long Beach can serve up 80,000-plus concertgoers on a plate could mean a stellar future lineup of potential get-back-togethers—I know everyone in SoCal would love to see Operation Ivy one more time before it’s too late—and the return of people long off the stage or rarely in tour form. Vans Warped Tour in Long Beach could become a larger part of rock history. And I have a feeling it very much will.
Hold up—Insomniac Events typically does EDM-centric festivals. Why were they (the perfect) choice to re-launch Vans Warped Tour?
If there was ever a promoter that could bring back the sweaty, beautifully chaotic energy of Vans Warped Tour, it’s Insomniac. Yes, they’re known for EDM-centered parties like Day Trip and Dreamstate. Yes, they throw some of the most over-the-top, neon-soaked festivals on the planet. But at their core, Insomniac is about community—and so was Warped. A shuffle circle might have replaced the mosh pit, but the spirit? It’s the same. A field full of kids who feel most alive when the bass hits or the guitars scream.
Even more, lovers of EDM and lovers of punk rock aren’t so different. Both crave the release. Both show up not just for the music but for the culture. And both built their worlds on the fringes. That is, DIY ethics turned into full-blown cultural revolutions. So to have Insomniac resurrect Warped Tour isn’t some genre-bending gimmick; it’s a full-circle moment for the evolution of Warped. From warehouse raves to parking lot punk shows, the ethos hasn’t changed: bring the misfits together, turn it up, and let the music do what it’s always done. Unite, revolt, and remind us we’re not alone.
Age wore itself proudly, as did youth—and the pair danced distinguishedly.
Jeremy McKinnon, frontman for A Day to Remember, telling kids to call their parents more often. Gen Z playfully pointing out the stunning array of ankle sock-sporting Millennials. Pennywise lead singer Jim Lindberg celebrating his 60th birthday—to the day: July 26—on stage. Gen X, as always, inspirationally not giving a proper fuck. All-American Rejects noting that their new song—a somber, visceral look at war through the perspective of a kid dubbed “The Sandbox”—was music they made for them because “it makes us feel good at our age to write shit we actually care about.”
Vans Warped Tour 2025 showcased the beauty of age in all its forms, with a more subtle if not outright extended hand from the surly older punks to the more anxious youth. And while I can’t speak for the other iterations—the previous in D.C. or the upcoming one in Orlando—I know that Long Beach love influenced this play because so many of the artists had such an intimate connection to the soil itself.
Mod Sun—whose father lived at 4th and Redondo, dying of an overdose—said it best when celebrating his six years of sobriety: “No matter if you’re the age of my old man or the age of me or younger, you have a space and the right to continue living on. There’s help if you’re struggling—take it from someone who grew up on these streets.”
And as someone who felt like the coolest kid in the room, not because I was watching these bands but because I was blessed to have Alex Hernandez of Alex’s Bar give me a free, two-hour history lesson of nearly everyone on stage, “struggling” took on myriad meanings. The struggle of musicians to secure gigs and stay competitive in the industry. Maybe the struggle to find one’s grounding. Struggle with mental health. Struggle with identity.
Either way, Vans Warped Tour in Long Beach provided that space. And we’re the better for it.
And yes, there was even an impromptu punk set atop a van on Pine Avenue post-festival Day 1.
Marilyn Manson might’ve said that “rock is better than dead,” but if anything, Vans Warped Tour said otherwise—even to those on the outside. Like Venice-based punk outfit Who Cares, which, true to their name, didn’t give one ounce of a care as they played an impromptu set atop their van on Pine Avenue, in front of tens of thousands of revelers.
In true Long Beach fashion, the crowd was supportive enough to garner a second performance by the band following Day 2’s festivities. And, also in true Long Beach fashion, the crowd got larger while the band’s confidence grew. The result? Well, arrest. And not for playing an illegal show—supposedly, LBPD was cool with that at first—but for saying, “Fuck the cops” in a song.
Yup, that’ll do it. And we kinda love you it. Nothing says Warped more than getting arrested (which Who Cares now shared with Sublime while “on” the Warped Tour: Sublime’s drummer Bud Gaugh was arrested at the first Warped Tour after he broke a rib and had too many narcotics on him for the pain management.)
