A review: The All-American Rejects concert

Date: August 18, 2006
Time: 8pm
Venue: The Arena

It all started with an almost missed poster in Chinatown. It was a dark lime green but the prints were clear enough. Normally there would not be posters of musicians hanging around if they were not to perform locally. I went home that day and went online immediately to google on The All-American Rejects’ tour dates. My heart was caught in my throat when I found out they were heading down south in a week’s time.

Questions sprouted in a nanosecond. Are there still tickets available? Where can I get them? How much will they be? Who will I go with? Should I go? Is this even for fucking real?

Ah the goodness that is the Internet. Everyone should make a best friend out of the Net dude. I was able to hunt down three outlets selling tickets at different prices. I have found a new friend: Rocking Horse. They sold the cheapest tickets at a mere $41.80. However, if I were to go I would not have any company as my friends are not fans of the rock genre. Besides, most of us are poor students. But the heck with it. I guess six months is long enough waiting for a band I want to see live. I have listened to their album often enough to wish would it not be nice to see them live. Here it is. A dream waiting to come true. The next morning, I headed down to the city and bought a ticket for myself. I would have the whole crowd to be my company.

Figuring out my way to get and come back from the venue was already half the fun. (I may be sarcastic here.) I did not even know the venue’s exact location. Gawd, I was so new to all of this it was kind of creepy.

There was already a line forming when I arrived. Everyone was in groups or at least in pairs. I think I was the only singular entity tonight. I felt like an idiot; people were looking at poor little me. I think I looked lost sometimes. Poor poor little Asian girl.

The crowd was the usual suspects. Punks dressed in all black with their favourite bands’ names emblazoned across their chest. Blink 182. Taking Back Sunday. Atticus (OK, so this is not a band.). And the likes. Chuck Taylor’s Converse. Vans’ checkers. Skinny jeans. Everyone almost looked the same.

The gate opened at 7pm. Suddenly, the crowd just grew rude and started shoving. Everyone wanted the front stage. I was almost at the front. Probably three or four rows away from the railing. Sweet. Fans made a quick pit-stop to buy T-shirts. Others went to buy drinks. Now that we were already in the venue, all we had to do was wait.

Avalon Drive was one of the two supporting acts to perform. I do not know who the heck they are. But there were fans amongst the crowd and they were extremely insane. They were shoving around and the girls in front of me was not pleased. Who would be pleased being shoved around anyway? Alas, it is after all a rock concert. It is no fun if nobody shoves around and pissed people off. The band was one of those punk bands. Screamos and good percussion riffs. It did not matter if you do not know the band. As long as you get the drift, it is all good. The reminded me a lot of Story of the Year and sometimes Angels and Airwaves. Those dreamy guitar whines. Some of their rhythms were heard of before. They were nothing spectacular.

By the time they were done, my curiosity of the people standing upstairs was getting the best of me. It looked so cosy up there. Thus, I gave up my almost decent spot in search of some alcohol. There is a reason why they sell 18+ and All Ages tickets. There is bound to be booze. And said booze is indeed upstairs. Oh, silly me for cramming amongst the All Ages people when I have the privilege of watching the concert upstairs without being shoved around. So I switched position. The security guard looked at me funny even after I showed him my ID.

The poison: Vodka and lime.

Suddenly, I felt sleepy as my ears and cheeks heat up from the alcohol. It was only a little past 8pm and it already felt like I had been there for two hours. My feet were killing me. And it turned out the upstairs was not as cosy as it seemed. Not that it was crowded. The railings were hogged. Everyone was fucking taller than me. I had no clear view but to peek past bobbing heads and shoulders. Lady at the front, please do not move around too much. A girl with bigger proportion totally blocked my somewhat decent view and I had to shift around. I looked like a bigger idiot upstairs. And there was something grown up about these 18+ people. (Well duh.) Yet more laidback. Like attending a performance in a mellow and intimate venue. Later, as the concert progressed I could see the crowd swaying left and right and was kind of glad I was not one of them. Some of them tried to surf but they were carried off the minute they got up atop the crowd by the security guards upfront.

Hellogoodbye came on. They were something toned down a little. The lead had a distinctive voice and I like that about him. If he mingled with the technical, I would believe he is the person singing the Chicken Little song. The crowd liked him. He looked peculiar. You know, those people walking around dressing a tad bit different from the majority and looked like he has so much unique musical soul in him it just radiates out of him. Their songs were near quirky. But yet so much fun. I thought about buying their CD to have a go at them. I did not know why I changed my mind.

When the lights dimmed and The All-American Rejects came on, I lost my somewhat decent view to no view at all. As they were performing Dirty Little Secret, I could not even find a gap that overlooked the lead’s mic onstage. Did I just pay almost $42 to just listen to them live? This blows. Fortunately, some holes came through. Beggars could not be choosers. I had to settle for second last best. It was not much. Probably none at all. But at least I could see them. Tiny tiny them.

They played most of the songs from their second album. The sequence was a little vague to me because I had no mind to memorise the playlist so do forgive me. Dirty Little Secret, Stab My Back, Top of the World, Dance Inside (I fucking love this song.), I’m Waiting and maybe, just maybe, 11:11PM. The only mellow song they performed was It Ends Tonight. They sang some silly impromptu song about water while distributing water bottles smacked with their saliva. There were also some songs from their first album. The annoying electric guitar stung the room. It vibrated the wooden floor I was standing on. It deafened my ears. The all-famous Swing Swing; even the 18+ crowd perked up when they started performing. Some B-sides: Paper Heart and Eyelash Wishes. And to end all songs, The Last Song. Of course we all knew it was not the last song. The crowd demanded an encore. They came back, performed Move Along, Tyler made up some song about not forgiving the fans if they threw water bottle at him, and they were gone.

They did not perform Night Drive. That song could have rocked the venue so fucking hard. And not even my favourite ballad Straitjacket Feeling. They ran out of expensive T-shirts. They took away my ticket prior to my entrance. My view was never the best being a midget. The pictures I took sucked big time asses. However, it was a good de-stress weekend for me after being burdened with a heavy assignment for the week. I would love to do it all over again. Maybe this time, sneak backstage, get wasted and fuck a band member. But merely doing it all over again is enough.