Jawbreaker Still Has Teeth.
Blake - Photo courtesy of Russell James.
In the pantheon of punk rock fandom, Jawbreaker fans stand apart in their devotion. Perhaps “fan” isn’t the appropriate word. “Acolyte” better describes those of us who have been hooked by the complex, passionate lyrics and the chord-powered, emotion-driven punk this trio is known for.
When Jawbreaker reunited in 2018 for a few festival shows, no one knew they’d become semi-regular events, with an anniversary tour for their album Dear You in 2022 and this current string of festival and club dates, which will take them to Japan in late November. It seems no one is screaming “sellout” anymore, as they were in 1995 around the time of the band’s original demise.
Jawbreaker’s current tour is called The Chill of Fall Tour 2025, nodding to a lyric in their song “Chesterfield King.” As I stood in line for their Denver show, leaning against the cold brick façade of the venue, autumn’s algid breath was hissing down the back of my denim jacket. I was early, second in line, and as a result, I was begging for the doors through chattering teeth. Once inside, I found my spot center stage, against the barricade, and watched the room fill.
Runt—Photo courtesy of Russell James.
First up were the folk punks Runt. This band may have a small footprint, and I don’t know how they ended up on such a legendary bill. With gravel-churning vocals and an energetic rhythm section, Runt acquitted themselves well on a stage that seemed larger than what they’re used to. Their songs about the perils of religious alienation sufficiently riled the crowd for the main acts.
Runt—Photo courtesy of Russell James.
Texas Is the Reason is one of those legendary second-wave emo bands that split after one brilliant album and a few 7-inches. Judging by the conversations around me, most attendees never had a chance to see them during their initial run, and as they strolled on stage, the tension in the room was palpable. A wiry Garrett Klahn stepped to the mic, and they launched into “If It’s Here When We Get Back It’s Ours.”
Texas is the Reason—Photo courtesy of Russell James.
TITR was practiced and sounded remarkable for not having played together in twelve years. They also looked physically restive, concentrating hard on the music instead of loosening up and having fun. Chris Daly smacked the drums with a nerve-wracking focus. During their performance of fan favorite “Johnny on the Spot,” lead singer Klahn looked frustrated at times, gesturing aggressively to his bandmates across the stage.
Texas is the Reason—Photo courtesy of Russell James.
New lead guitarist John Herguth (filling in for departed founding member Norman Brannon) staged an underwhelming performance. His guitars lacked energy, partially due to a muddy tone that did nothing to catapult the songs into the sonic sphere they deserved. In contrast to the strained Klahn and Daly, Herguth stood listless, like he was going through the motions before he could fall asleep back at the hotel. Only bassist Scott Winegard turned on the energy, smiling, throwing his hair back and forth, and moving with gusto throughout the show.
Texas is the Reason—Photo courtesy of Russell James.
These shortcomings couldn’t dampen the crowd’s enthusiasm for seeing a band most thought would never tour again. The throng swayed and moved as one, each singing the lyrics along with Klahn as though they’d never stopped listening to them over the past 30 years. Klahn offered a memorable soliloquy reminding the crowd to look for hope in this dark era of history before ringing the opening chords of a noisy “Back and to the Left,” which got a small pit moving before they left the stage to a long overture.
Texas is the Reason—Photo courtesy of Russell James. courtesy of Russell James.
A conspicuous hum vibrated through the crowd during the 30-minute changeover. I turned around and saw the mass behind me had surged, growing at least by 50% since the end of TITR’s set. A buzzing energy had everyone bouncing on the balls of their feet. The lights dimmed to a deep blue, and the band entered to theme music, as has been their custom on recent tours. Then, with a lurch, they slammed into “I Love You So Much It’s Killing Us Both” from their now-classic 1995 swan song, Dear You. The crowd behind me pushed and swayed, jumped as one, and sang every lyric.
Jawbreaker—Photo courtesy of Russell James.
Jawbreaker filled their set with deep cuts, tailor-made for longtime fans. Songs like “Housesitter,” “Fine Day,” and “Parabola” found welcome ears among the longtime favorites. The crowd, a mix of middle-aged punks and newer Gen-Z fans, sang every word.
Photo courtesy of Russell James.
Each band member was in perfect form and, contrasting TITR, looked loose and comfortable with their songs. This was the final show of the tour, and the time they had spent on stage was apparent. Each member was locked in, delivering a seasoned performance. Blake Schwarzenbach’s guitars were a cascading cacophony, a thick curtain draping the songs with equal parts chilly gloom and bright new day. Adam Pfaler was a clock, relaxed at his perch, chewing gum, casually blowing pink bubbles between smiles, snare cracks, and lightning-quick drum fills. Chris Bauermeister, who I’ve never seen look up from the floor before, let alone speak to his bandmates, was grinning away and trading jokes with both Blake and Adam throughout the set. I loved watching Chris; he looked like he was genuinely having fun. They all did. This was no mere chore for them; this was a joy.
The magic on stage wasn’t lost on anyone in attendance. The crowd responded to classics like “Boxcar” and “Jinx Removing” with a shared heart, while somber songs “Jet Black” and “Accident Prone” allowed for a collective release. Blake’s snarky, confident banter regarding, well, everything, added a cynical kiss to the proceedings.
Jawbreaker—Photo courtesy of Russell James.
They finished with another singalong to “Chesterfield King,” which churned the crowd more than ever before Blake signed off with, “Thanks, that’s all we got.” As the crowd thinned, moving toward the exits, Jawbreaker’s acolytes hoped he was wrong.
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