Last week one of my favorite bands came to my city, and. I went.
Panic! at the Disco is pretty important to me and a couple of my friends: in our freshman year (I think), we discovered it upon the rise of Too Old to Live Too Young to Die! and obsessed over This is Gospel and shirtless Brendon.
I’ve been to a concert (Vampire Weekend) once before; in the same venue, in fact. But Vampire Weekend was a relatively new band for me at the time. By the time Panic! at the Disco announced their visit here, their melodies were already in my blood and their lyrics were already etched in my soul.
Three other friends and I got there an hour before the doors opened.
Embarrassingly, I am that friend that acts like a five-year-old in a zoo sometimes. The line was clothed in black T-shirts of similar bands, ripped denim, and the occasional plaid cardigan. Every few steps there would be a shock of brightly-dyed hair or an impressive piercing. “Everyone here is so grunge,” I whispered to my friend, and she laughed at how easily I’m intimidated.
People at concerts are a cool breed. A guy, who wore a shirt featuring Jesus surfing bare-foot, offered to sell us water. We chatted with some ladies who drove over four hours to see the concert, and they laughed when hearing that I nervously researched moshing on Wikihow. Panic!, they insisted, was not intense enough for moshing. But I was still apprehensive.
If anything, they should’ve been fearing me.
Something about the deep bass thrumming through my body made me lose all self-consciousness, and I did a ton of jumping, screaming, and fist-pumping. I was so into it.
People gave me a wide berth because of it, but I don’t really regret my craziness. Since I’m so reserved and self-conscious usually, this was a rare treat for me, and I’m glad I seized the moment so firmly.
(The best moments were Miss Jackson and the Bohemian Rhapsody cover.)
I was covered in sweat and sore by the end of it, and I bought an overpriced cup of Coke. It honestly was the most delicious soda I have ever had.
At the end of the night, we walked on our Jell-O legs to a nearby Wendy’s. Over some hot salty french fries, we talked and talked about what a hell of a time we’ve had. ❤
What is your favorite concert experience?