Seeing Staind at Northwell Health at Jones Beach Theatre was a little different than a typical shed show. This stage quite literally sits in the bay, with the salt air rolling in as the sun drops over Long Island. It’s a beautiful, uniquely New York setting—and on this night, it came with a twist. By the time Staind hit the stage as the fourth and final band of the night, following Lakeview, Daughtry, and Breaking Benjamin, the tide was so high that several inches of water had crept into the photo pit and even parts of the floor GA section. Standing there surrounded by electrical cables and stage wiring, cameras in hand, there was a very real moment of thinking: this is how I’m going to die—electrocuted while shooting a rock show. Somehow, everything held together, and the band powered through without missing a beat.
Staind opened hard, immediately locking the crowd in with newer material like “Lowest in Me” and “Eyes Wide Open,” both landing with a heavier punch live than on record. The set moved smoothly between aggression and melody, something Staind has always done well. Songs like “Fade” and “Right Here” pulled the energy inward, while “Not Again” and “Here and Now” brought it right back to a roar. As the night settled in, the band leaned into the emotional core of their catalog—“Something to Remind Me” and “So Far Away” hit especially strong in this open-air setting, with thousands of voices carrying the choruses out over the water.
I’ve seen Staind many times over the years, and I’ve also caught Aaron Lewis solo, both in his country format and stripped-down rock shows. Every time, I’m reminded how underrated his voice really is. Live, it’s raw and unpolished in the best way—capable of real grit on songs like “Raw” and “For You,” but equally effective when he pulls things back. “Outside” remains one of those songs that instantly transforms a crowd into a single choir, while “Better Days” and “Wannabe” added a sense of momentum heading into the home stretch.
The encore was exactly what everyone came for. “It’s Been Awhile” washed over the venue like a collective memory, followed by a crushing “Mudshovel” that closed the night on a high note—wet feet, ringing ears, and all. Between the surreal flooded photo pit, the bayfront backdrop, and a stacked lineup that delivered across the board, this was one of those Jones Beach nights that reminds you why live music in a place like this can feel both beautiful and a little dangerous at the same time.
