LIVE REVIEW + PHOTOS: New Found Glory – O2 Victoria Warehouse, Manchester – 11/10/2025

There’s a certain magic that happens when New Found Glory take the stage, a wave of nostalgia that hits like a power chord, equal parts joy and melancholy. At Manchester’s O2 Victoria Warehouse, that feeling was palpable from the moment the lights dimmed. The sold-out crowd erupted before a single note was played, proof that even after a quarter-century, this band still commands a fierce kind of loyalty. With Koyo kicking off the night in a flurry of sweat-soaked emotion and Real Friends delivering their brand of confessional pop-punk heartbreak, the tone was set long before the headliners arrived. But when New Found Glory launched into their set: those chunky riffs, Jordan Pundik’s elastic vocals, the relentless energy from a band that still plays like they’ve got something to prove, the nostalgia turned kinetic. This wasn’t just a trip down memory lane; it was a reminder of why New Found Glory were never just a phase, but the beating heart of a scene that refuses to die.

Opening the night, Koyo wasted no time in lighting a spark. The Long Island band stormed the stage with a mix of ferocity and focus, their set a tight blend of melodic hardcore intensity and pop-punk warmth. Tracks hit hard: anthemic yet emotionally charged, bursting with the kind of hooks that feel destined to echo through bigger rooms soon enough. What stood out, though, was the band’s genuine humility. Between songs, frontman Joey Chiaramonte spoke earnestly about the surreal experience of playing stages like this one, halfway across the world from where they started. He thanked the crowd, talked briefly about their new album and the upcoming tour, and reflected on what it means to be a smaller band carving out their place alongside the giants who inspired them. There was no posturing, no pretense; just gratitude, energy, and songs that spoke louder than any speech could. By the time their final chorus rang out, Koyo had won over even the most casual onlookers, proving that sincerity and sweat still go a long way in a genre built on both.

Next up were Real Friends, who turned Victoria Warehouse into a chorus of catharsis. From the first chord, the Illinois band commanded both the stage and the sea of fans before them, blurring the line between performer and audience. Frontman Cody Murano was in constant motion, bounding across the stage, leaning into the barricade, and more than once diving straight into the crowd. Microphone extended, he let fans scream their lungs out to every word, the connection between band and audience so tangible it almost felt electric. During I’ve Given Up On You, Murano waded right into the middle of the floor, surrounded by hundreds of voices shouting the lyrics back at him, the moment swelling with raw, communal emotion. Then, with barely a breath, the band snapped back into high gear, unleashing a run of fan favourites that sent the room into chaos once more. For all their earnestness, Real Friends played with the confidence of a band that knows exactly what they mean to people and in Manchester, the feeling was mutual.

When New Found Glory hit the stage, it was as if someone had flipped a switch from anticipation to absolute chaos. The lights flashed, guitars from Four Year Strong’s Dan O’Connor (still filling in for Chad Gilbert) roared into the opening riff of Something I Call Personality, and instantly the floor turned into a whirlwind of bodies. Pits opened wide, crowdsurfers poured relentlessly over the barrier, and within seconds, it felt like the building itself was vibrating. The security team, clearly in over their heads, struggled to keep up, several fans were dropped awkwardly in the frenzy but the fault lay far from the stage. Up there, New Found Glory were a machine: tight, grinning, and completely locked in.

Jordan Pundik bounded from one side of the stage to the other, his voice still sharp and expressive after decades of touring, every lyric delivered with the same urgency as when these songs were new. O’Connor, all smiles and intensity, played like he was trying to shake the rafters loose, throwing himself into every riff and screaming harmonies into the mic between power chords. Even between songs, the camaraderie was effortless—trading jokes, laughing with fans, and beaming like a band who still genuinely loves what they do. The audience fed off it, the feedback loop of enthusiasm only intensifying as the night went on. There was a looseness, a sense of fun that made the whole thing feel alive; New Found Glory didn’t just play their songs, they inhabited them, moving with the kind of confidence that comes from years spent mastering their craft.

When they slipped in their covers of Disney classic Let It Go and Sixpence None The Richer’s Kiss Me, the tone shifted briefly from explosive to exuberant. It was self-aware, silly in the best possible way—proof that even after all this time, New Found Glory are still the kind of band that can make a joke out of sincerity and make sincerity out of a joke. The crowd sang every word, arms around shoulders, voices cracking but unstoppable. By the time they reached Understatement, the stage was drenched in sweat, the floor a frenzy of motion. Pundik screamed its now-immortal lines and the audience howled it back with everything they had left.

The band walked off to deafening applause, only to return for My Friends Over You, the song that has closed countless shows but somehow still feels brand new. The final chorus became one last outpouring of emotion, equal parts nostalgia and sheer joy. As the lights came up, it was clear that this wasn’t just a trip down memory lane, it was a celebration of endurance. New Found Glory played like a band still in love with the chaos they create, still thrilled to be the spark in a room full of fire.

As the final notes echoed through O2 Victoria Warehouse and the crowd’s roar refused to fade, the night stood as a celebration of everything that keeps this scene alive. Koyo had opened with heart and humility, proving that passion and sincerity can still turn strangers into fans. Real Friends took that energy and exploded it outward, their connection with the crowd raw and immediate, every lyric shouted back like a shared confession. And then New Found Glory closed it all out, showing exactly why they remain the blueprint for pop-punk showmanship: powerful, funny, sincere, and endlessly engaging. It was more than just a nostalgia trip; it was a snapshot of a genre still thriving, still evolving, still capable of making thousands of people feel young, loud, and limitless for one night.

Words by Ell Bradbury

Photos by Will Robinson (Instagram)