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[thewingedword]

CONCERT WOO! Short story: small venues are awesome, pits are awesome, my bruises are totally fascinating. I MET PEOPLE UP CLOSE HEY. Cobra Starship rocked, Sherwood was pretty good, The Rocket Summer was not my cup of tea, Armor For Sleep had a hot bassist, and The Academy Is was worth all of it. Even Bryce Avery's unattractive singing faces.

Through mutual accord we squeezed our way up in front of VickyT's microphone, which was easily distinguishable by being about six inches shorter than the rest. She was wearing a short grey dress that seemed constantly about to slip off her shoulders but sadly never did, and a purple belt that I've seen her wear in pictures, which was a touch surreal. Ryland was wearing a velvet jacket and white pants, which will be important LATER.

Cobra did a very short set, opening with "The City Is At War" and moving on to "Hey Mister DJ," "Guilty Pleasure," and "Church of Hot Addiction" in no particular order. We were maybe five rows from barrier at the start, three rows by the end, and the crowd was INSANE. So much jumping and lunging and smashing. Everyone knew how to throw up their fangs, everyone had heard the new CD, everyone was enthusiastic as hell, and Gabe thought that was the best thing ever. It was pretty cute.

They closed with "Snakes On A Plane," which is only to be expected. William Beckett came out in a fedora and jacket, looking very sharp, and Sisky came on to do the rap, which was amazing. Probably my favorite set of the night, since I was still fresh and energized and excited.

After that set we ditched the pit and got shirts- the grey-and-neon ones that remind me of The Great Gatsby. Hung out on the balcony for Sherwood, whose main attraction was their manic keyboardist/tambourinist; he would play with one hand while doing mad improvised dances, or play with both hands and be absolutely brilliant. I kind of love him and his dorky glasses.


The Rocket Summer was a bit boring, and the aforementioned singing faces were something of a turn-off. However, it was during their set that I ran into three people from bands (whom I will mention later), so I owe them something for that.


Armor for Sleep- all of their songs sounded the same? Not bad, just the same. Their bassist, however, was so hot that I seriously fantasized about fucking him through the floor. I think I'm developing a bassist fetish, which probably isn't a bad thing. 

 

The Academy Is opened with "Same Blood", and did a killer job. The whole set was slightly marred by the drums being turned up WAY too high, so that I could barely make out vocals, but it was still amazing. Let's see if I can remember the rest of the set list... The Phrase That Pays, Black Mamba, Classifieds, Checkmarks, Down And Out, Almost Here, LAX to O'Hare, Big Mess, Sleeping With Giants, Everything We Had, Bulls In Brooklyn, Neighbors, Seed, and 40 Steps. In not at all that order, obviously.

William Beckett, up close, is simply stunningly gorgeous. From any distance, his height and thinness make him capable of speaking body language in bold, which he takes absolute advantage of. Things that would be absurd or laughable if anyone else did them are oddly eloquent, coming from him. His smile basically lit the room, his eyes are almost painfully sincere; he is invariably graceful, whether tossing a mic stand into the air or tapping a tambourine on the curve of his hip. William belongs on the stage like a painting belongs in a frame, and it's nothing short of an honor to see him there.

His fangirls, however, are bitches. Drunken pushy sharp-elbowed scantily-clad bitches, and I took great joy in retaliating against their attempts to take my place near the stage. No more need be said.


40 Steps was, audio-wise, the best song of the night, since it was only guitar and vocals and I could therefore hear everything clearly. It also gave me an insight into and fondness for that song which I hadn't possessed before, which is pretty cool. Also, quite a few people randomly left then, so I ended up only a few rows from Beckett's very heartfelt and attractive emoting.


There were a few guest appearances; Gabe showed up during "Classifieds," looking very dapper in William's hat from earlier and a nice coat, and also gave William a rose. They played gay chicken with microphones, which amused me greatly. The lead singer for Armor For Sleep came on later wearing the same hat, which is nothing short of fanfic material.

And, in a guest appearance of The Gay, Beckett spent large portions of the show hanging all over Michael Guy Chislett, who reciprocated by going down on his knees dramatically to Beckett during a guitar solo. I am not going to lie, it was hot like burning.

So TAI closed with Almost Here, which was unexpectedly touching. William Beckett quite suddenly went down into the crowd, and everyone lunged all at once. I somehow got swept up in the crowd, jostled and squeezed up to the front, and for a good five seconds I was maybe six inches from his beautiful face. He had his hands stretched out, trying to touch everyone within reach, and he was unspeakably sincere and ridiculously good-looking.

Then some CRAZY BITCH clawed at my arms and dragged me away, but it was still awesome.

Other people whom I met: The bassist and crazy keyboardist for Sherwood, when they came to get their instrument cases, which for some idiot reason were stacked against a wall hemmed in by the crowd. Had a nice casual chat with the bassist, since I completely failed to recognize him; if I had, I'd have been too shy to say a word.

More excitingly: RYLAND. Not so much a meeting as he slipped past us in the crowd. His hand touched my shoulder and my hand brushed his jacket- velvet, remember?- and then I stared after him for a second until my brain matched up "freakishly tall" and "velvet jacket" and I said OH SHIT out loud. Ryland is hot. And really fucking tall.

Guess who else is tall? GABE SAPORTA. He was hanging out in the merch room when we left; we didn't have time to stop and get anything signed, but we waved and he nodded back (arms being occupied with fangirls). For the record, I've always found Gabe pretty creepy in pictures, but he's very handsome and classy-looking in person and well-dressed. Not creepy at all, surprisingly.


Concerts are amazing. Pits are amazing. I finally understand why Gerard Way was trying to get people to jump and wave their arms at Projekt Rev, and why the venue we happened to be in meant that he was doomed to fail. WANT MOAR. That is all.