Wavves – 7th St Entry – Minneapolis MN – July 2nd 2025

KFAI presents Wavves live at the 7th St Entry on July 2nd 2025 with special guests Beach Goons and Death Lens

Review and photos by Peyton Rondeau

Minneapolis might’ve been hit with a sweltering July heatwave, but inside 7th St Entry on Tuesday night, the Beach Goons turned that simmer into a full-on boil.

Touring alongside Wavves and Death Lens, the San Diego surf-punk trio delivered a blistering, sweat-drenched set that felt like a backyard punk show crammed into a shotgun-sized venue. The room was packed early, bodies shoulder to shoulder, with fans ranging from tatted-up punks to casual listeners pulled in by the band’s raw energy and bilingual punch.

They opened with “Vertigo”, setting the tone with distorted guitars and frontman Pablo Cervantez’s snarling, bilingual vocals cutting clean through the haze. The energy didn’t let up—“Chunti”, “Hoodratscumbags”, and “BoiSad” followed in rapid fire. Each track was met with increasing chaos: kids crowd-surfed in a venue barely tall enough to allow it, a mini mosh pit broke out during the breakdowns, and a group near the front yelled every word like it was gospel.

Pablo, as usual, was a magnetic presence—loose-limbed and ferocious, switching between melodic lines and rougher shouts that riled up the crowd even more. He spoke a little between songs, mostly to thank the audience and shout out Wavves, but this set was all about motion: fast songs, faster tempos, no filler.

The highlight? A surprise rendition of “La Bamba” done Goons-style—gritty, fast, and undeniably fun. What could’ve been a campy moment turned into a punk singalong, uniting the whole room in sweaty harmony.

The sound was loud and at times a little messy—typical for 7th St Entry’s concrete-and-brick intimacy—but it fit the Beach Goons’ vibe perfectly. Grit is part of the charm. There’s no polish here, just pulse.

They closed with “A.M.”, a slightly slower track that allowed the crowd to catch its breath—barely—before the final crash of guitars sent everyone into a last frenzy. By the time the house lights came on, shirts were soaked, voices were hoarse, and Minneapolis had fully gotten what it came for: a fast, loud, no-frills punk show with real heart.

Sandwiched between Wavves and the Beach Goons, Death Lens brought a gritty punch to the night’s lineup at 7th St Entry. The trio wasted no time setting a heavy tone, launching straight into the opener “Crawling Up the Walls.”

🔥 Performance Highlights

• Powerful Opening: The first few seconds of their power-chord riff signaled: “this is no indie-friendly set.” The crowd stiffened, amps buzzing, ready to dive into something heavier.

• Raw Vocals: Lead singer/guitarist Bryan Torres has a gravelly voice that cuts through the room. She snarled lyrics over buzzing guitar, reminding fans of early 2000s riot-grrrl energy.

• Tight Rhythm: Their drummer and bassist locked in tight, giving each track a driving, urgent push—not flashy, but hard and consistent. Songs like “Blackout Youth” and “Static in My Head” hit with frenetic tempos and raw emotional weight.

Between songs, Alexa dropped gritty one-liners: “We do this for the broken ones,” she said before launching into a cathartic breakdown. The crowd responded in kind—small pits forming, people shouting back lyrics they seemed to know by heart, even though the band’s Minneapolis stop was fresh.

• “Static in My Head” – A compelling mid-set highlight. Its layered guitars gave a haunting edge before exploding into punk-energy choruses, sending the mosh pit into overdrive.

• “Last Transmission” – Brought them back down emotionally, with a haunting outro that lingered longer in the room—thin layers of guitar and echoed vocals as the lights dimmed.

7th St Entry’s mixing desk occasionally swallowed some vocal nuances, but the grit and rawness worked in Death Lens’s favor—they thrive in imperfect, live-sound environments. The set carried the ideal “garage” vibe: loud, sweaty, rough around the edges.

This was Death Lens at their rawest and most unfiltered—no frills, just gritty, unapologetic tunes. They set a dark, urgent tone that made the evening’s lighter energy feel balanced and explosive. Whether you were there to mosh or just soak it in, Death Lens delivered something real—and a bit cathartic—for a half-packed Minneapolis night.

Seeing Wavves live is a chaotic, exhilarating experience that perfectly captures the band’s lo-fi surf punk ethos. From the very first distorted chord, the energy in 7th St Entry surged like a broken wave, and frontman Nathan Williams’ raw vocals cut through the fuzz like a punch to the chest. It wasn’t just loud—it was alive.

Their setlist was a relentless blur of fan favorites—“King of the Beach,” “Sail to the Sun,” “Green Eyes”—played at a breakneck pace with barely a pause to breathe. Each song bled into the next, the kind of frenzied momentum that turned the front of the crowd into a sweaty, bouncing mess. People weren’t just listening—they were yelling every lyric, surfing every riff.

What keeps a Wavves set from spiraling into total disorder is their surprisingly tight rhythm section. The drums and bass provide just enough structure to hold the chaos together, but there’s always that edge—something unpredictable humming just beneath the surface. At any moment, a song could collapse into noise, or Nathan might launch into a feedback-drenched jam, but that’s what makes it thrilling.

There’s no polish. No pretense. Wavves thrives in the noise. That lack of filter is their greatest strength, and live, it feels like stepping into a skate video or a garage party mid-riot. It’s nostalgic without feeling stuck in the past—like pop-punk’s scruffy younger cousin that never grew up, and never planned to.

By the end of their set, ears were ringing and shirts were soaked. But more than that, the crowd looked genuinely lighter—like they’d shaken something loose. Whether you came as a diehard or a first-timer, Wavves gave you a jolt of something cathartic, a reminder of what punk can be when it ditches the rules and dives headfirst into the noise.