Turnstile’s music has always felt like a jolt to the system (as all hardcore punk should), and their new album Never Enough is no different.
It’s short, sharp, and relentless… the kind of album that makes you feel like you’ve been pushed headfirst into a mosh pit whether you were ready or not. There’s no slow introduction, no gentle rise, it’s full‑tilt energy from the start, and it barely lets up. And we haven’t even gotten to the flute solo yet!
What makes the album work is the way it balances aggression with accessibility. The hardcore roots are all there; jagged riffs, pounding drums, vocals spat out with breathless urgency, but there’s also a sense of melody woven through the chaos. The songs don’t just hit hard; they stick. Choruses and grooves lodge themselves in your head without taking away from the rawness. It’s clever work, keeping things brutal and catchy at the same time, and it gives the record more staying power than a lot of straightforward hardcore and helps explain why this album has charted and reviewed better than their previous outings. This doesn’t necessarily make it more ‘mainstream’ – but it sure helps reach a wider audience.
The production helps enormously. Everything is clean enough to stop it collapsing into a wall of indistinct noise, but not so polished that the grit is lost. The bass is punchy, the guitars have bite, and the drums hit with real clarity. It feels alive, like the whole thing was recorded with the band practically bursting out of the studio. There’s air in the mix, which means the intensity never becomes suffocating, and that makes the songs feel even more urgent.
Vocally, there’s no pretence of refinement, but that’s what gives it power. The delivery is ragged, desperate, and completely believable, as though the words couldn’t possibly have been kept in any longer. That sense of immediacy is what makes the lyrics land, even when they’re blunt and unfussy. You don’t come to a Turnstile record for clever riddles; you come for catharsis and full punk energy.
The album is tight in length, almost dead on a perfect 45 minutes, which suits it. None of the songs outstay their welcome, and by the time it’s done, you’re more inclined to hit play again than feel worn out. It doesn’t drag, it doesn’t sprawl – it’s a controlled burst of intensity that knows exactly when to stop. Too many bands in this space stretch things out until the impact dulls; Turnstile avoid that mistake completely.
Lyrically, the themes are direct as you’d be right to expect. Restlessness, disillusionment, emotional release. They’re not dressed up in metaphor or layered with irony, they’re shouted straight, and that suits the music perfectly. This is an album that thrives on being in the moment. It doesn’t look for neat conclusions or tidy answers; it just channels that raw energy into sound.
It’s not going to be for everyone – even if everyone should at least give it a try. If hardcore, in any form, has always felt abrasive or alienating, this won’t change your mind. The record makes no concessions, and it isn’t interested in smoothing its edges for broader appeal. But for those tuned into its frequency, it’s exhilarating. There’s a vitality running through it that feels impossible to fake.
What’s most impressive is how Turnstile manage to stay rooted in their hardcore base while still pushing it into spaces that feel fresh. This isn’t a reinvention, but it’s a sharpening of focus, a clear statement of who they are and why they matter. The sound is immediate, the mood restless, and the energy infectious.
By the end, you don’t feel like you’ve listened to an album so much as been caught up in a storm. It’s chaotic, cathartic, and completely unapologetic. And while it may not convert the uninitiated, for those who get it, Never Enough feels like exactly the right title.
Author: Tom, Cardiff Store
