"Wouldn't've Got the Lettuce If I Knew It Wouldn't Fit"

So a while ago, I had the amazing chance to go see a very talented person in concert, and right afterwards I wrote down the gist of my experience here before going to sleep, like with Pierce the Veil. But I've been so tired and unmotivated to finish the story that it's been sitting as a draft in my queue for over a month. I'm currently at the airport, May 9th, with nothing to do, so I figured I should finally knock out the story.

Expletives (not my own) below.

Multiple song links at the end.

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On Thursday, April 2 of 2015, I had the opportunity to go see Bo Burnham on his newest tour, Make Happy. I didn't know anyone else who either had free time to go with me, or even just knew about him in the first place, so I went alone. I don't think I'd have ever been able to do that in high school, but I wasn't about to pass this opportunity up.

I had gotten my tickets late, so I was at the very back, very last row, right in the middle, in the same theater that I had seen in Pierce the Veil in. When I first sat down, it was moderately okay, because there was no one in front of me yet, and I could still see the stage. But as it got closer to starting time, people began to fill in, and I was regretting my spot.

This was just about when a man approached me and asked if I was sitting alone. I replied yes, and he asked (I quote, he literally said this), "Do you wanna hear the best deal of your life?" Naturally my interest was piqued, and there was a pretty nice but macho dude right next to me if the guy turned out to be weird, so I said yeah, sure. He then proceeded to offer to swap tickets with me, because he wanted his friend to sit next to him - and the offered ticket was for a seat 16 rows up, in row 10, second section from the stage. Even closer than the first time I visited this theater.

Miracles do happen.

There was an opening act, which I didn't expect at a comedy show. I thought that was only for musical concerts, but the comedian, Justine Marino, turned out to be a treat. She told us that she understood that we were here to primarily see Bo and not her, but that we'd have to just deal. Apparently, there was a girl in the very front row who had tweeted a picture of her boots on the stage earlier before the show started, and apparently Bo had tweeted back, "GET YOUR BOOTS OFF MY STAGE!" Justine's way of consoling the girl was letting her know that even if she got called out, at least her shoes were cute.

For some reason, she also talked about her attire for the night. She was wearing leggings and a long sweater, but she stated that just before she went onstage she realized her sweater was shorter than she thought it was. She addressed this problem by outright stating it, saying, "I have a boyfriend, so you can't get this camel toe." She also talked about her newest puppy, who was a rescue. However, I mean "rescue," because she rescued it from a breeder mill in Minnesota, a state of residence far worse than any pound or shelter (It's hard to convey sarcasm over text, so I want to clarify that she meant Minnesota was a place of boredom, and that she rescued the puppy from a boring life. Not that the breeder mills or people in the state are abusive).

I don't know how comedians do their routines, there's so much stuff to memorize. Justine went on to talk about how, though girls always get together in advance to get ready for a night out, guys never do this. And if they do, they probably talk about how many girls they're going to nail that night. Like, "I'm getting so much pussy tonight!" and things along those lines. She brought up a fair question: Why don't girls talk like this? "Daaaaaammn my pussy is getting so much dick tonight! It's gonna be a dick vacuum!"

I personally thought the funniest part of her routine was the last part, when Justine talked about weddings. She said she wanted to get married multiple times, and the audience was understandably taken aback a bit, but then she went on to explain it was because "it seems like so much fun, you know, I'm gonna have a different theme for each one too." The first one would be Jurassic Park themed. No way would she dress her bridesmaids in typical attire either. "Those hoes will be dressed as velociraptors, and I'm going to ride in on a triceratops, looking like a princess."

Her segment ended there, and she thanked the crowd for having her and disappeared behind the drawn curtains. The lights went down, and the crowd started cheering; we knew what was coming next.

Bo's show started with a recording of a choir singing along to a violin; this lasted in pitch darkness for a good half minute. Then, similarly to his "what" show, a female automated voice came on, saying, "Hello audience. Thank you for coming. You are here because you want to laugh, and you want to forget about your problems, but I cannot allow it. You should not laugh, you should not forget about your problems. The world is not funny.We are all dying. The world is not funny. 12% of the world's population does not have access to clean drinking water. The world is not funny. Guy Fieri owns two functioning restaurants. The world is not funny. So then, now that we understand the context, now that we realize how terribly unfunny the world is - Let's do this."

Flashing blue spotlights started going off, and a deep, autotuned male voice announced to the crowd that entertainers are not to be trusted, that they are not here to entertain you, but here to control you. Never listen to them, never give them what they want, and most importantly, never, make some fucking noooooooise!

Bo then came onstage, dressed ridiculously in a black leather jacket and skinny jeans, and walking with the emphasized swagger of a very arrogant boy. He started with a musical call and response, saying, "Ladies, come on ladies if you feel me say hell yeah!" (HELL YEAH) "Now fellas, come on fellas if you hear me say hell yeah!" (HELL YEAH) He went to ask virgins (got one), uncles (have you felt up your nephew), if you like drinking booze, and if you like to get high. At this last one, he said, "Jackpot" when the crowd cheered, and a bunch of flashing red and blue lights came on the stage, with sirens going off and police voices. But I live in Colorado, and as many know, recreational marijuana is legal here, so as soon as that happened, he told the "police" that they could go. The call and response continued with if you don't give a fuck about the law (say fuck the police), if that seems oversimplified to you (say their job is really hard), and if you have no idea about what's happening between Israel and Palestine (say no comment). After a brief melodic and "introspective" interlude, he started up again with bright red lights this time and a synthetic beat, singing "Let's get this show going, okay, okay, all right, one two three four -" The lights suddenly cut to normal stage lighting, and he said, "So I was at the store the other day..." Cue laughter.

Bo did a bit of improv at first, talking about how all us potheads forgot the show was supposed to be a month ago (the show was originally scheduled for March but cancelled due to a snow storm). He talked about walking around Boulder and going to a concert the other night, where some dude told him he looked high, to which he responded, "Why else would I be here? Since it's legalized and all. I didn't come here for the homeless music and mixtapes on every conner. It's free to tune a guitar."

He's right though, we have an outdoor shopping mall where a lot of musicians gather and play their guitars for spare change. I didn't even think about it until he said it.

He went on to comment on our theater, saying, "Lets just get two weird circular paintings on the wall - oh perfect," and, "Nice acoustics, lets get some bass up in here," (he actually did it, I got to experience the vivid subwoofers again) and, "Oh nice, McDonalds curtains" in reference to two arched window-things on either side of the stage with red drapes and mustard-yellow curtains framing the red. I'll just insert a picture, it's too hard to describe:

http://goo.gl/m2DHG3

He did honestly also say thank you for coming out and he's happy we're here in all that intro. It wasn't all sarcasm and joking.

He took off the leather jacket after this intro, revealing a collared, button-down long-sleeved shirt, but a lot of girls cheered anyways. He responded to this by saying, "Nothing gets the girls going like a button-down."

His first song was an interesting number titled "Straight White Man." Some of the lyrics were, "We used to have all the money and land. We still do but it's not as fun now" and "The churches never made me feel ashamed of who I am, but I get emails from Netflix that Gmail doesn't mark as spam."

It was after this song that Bo recognized an eight year old kid with his mom in the first section of the audience. He asked the kid to come to the front, asked his name (Zaylin - I don't know the spelling), and looked at the rest of the audience and laughed helplessly, like, What do I do now, I've been swearing in front of a kid! Bo then asked Zaylin if he understood the things being said, and when Zaylin said yes, he asked what Zaylin thought of it? Zaylin responded with a simple, "Funny!" Poor Bo told Zaylin that his mom was really cool to let him come, but kept pacing back and forth on the stage for a while after he sent Zaylin back to his seat, trying to start his next segment, but couldn't because he kept thinking of the little eight year old in the front rows. Throughout the rest of the show, Bo periodically referred back to Zaylin, even incorporating him freestyle into one of his songs.

Another song he sang was "Lower Your Expectations," and it was about not looking too hard for the perfect soulmate (while of course making fun of people who want a perfect match"). Lyrics included, "You want a guy who's sweet, a guys who's tough, a feminist who likes to pay for stuff, the kind of guy who gets along with your friends without being attracted to any of them; Well you might think this guy only exists in your mind... Guess what - you're right," and "If you want love, lower your expectations a few, a Prince Charming would never settle for you."

I think it was after this that he took off the button-down shirt, eliciting more cheers from more girls (don't worry, he had a standard white t-shirt underneath). I forget his exact response, but it went something like: "Oh yeah, 100% cotton. See all these girls sexualizing me."

He also performed a little skit about making a PB&J sandwich high vs. making a sandwich shitfaced. The "high"part included lots of action-movie music, hyper movements, and exaggerated precision when bringing the two slices together. On the other hand, the "drunk" part had the same music, but slowed down at least 2x so the sound was extremely fuzzy. Bo stumbled around a lot, tried dumping out the "peanut butter" directly onto the bread without a knife, and when that didn't work, just reached in the "jar" and ate it with his hand. It was at this point a recording of Bo pretending to be the wife began, and the Bo onstage tried to act natural and hold the "jar" behind his back. "She" pretty quickly picked up on the drunken fact, and asked to see what he was hiding, and when he brought out the peanut butter, she said it was a jar of mayonnaise.

Even if it was pretend, he put an imaginary handful in his mouth. Oh my god.

A quick note of the show, though it wasn't its own segment: In the middle of his following transition, he started going to the keyboard as though to play the next song, but then whirled around and said, "Fuck you spotlight guy, you don't know where this show is going," when the spotlight tried to follow him.

This was because his next song wasn't on the keyboard. He talked for a bit about rap songs today, on how all you need is a sick beat and some spoken words, and you've got a hip hop song right there. You can literally say anything you want. He demonstrated this with the nursery rhymes "I'm a Little Teapot" and "Baa Baa Black Sheep." And in truth, if I didn't speak English, I honestly would've thought those were legitimate rap songs. No lie. He also had at least four smoke machines blasting smoke during that segment, so he said, "That joke costs me $200 a show."

The next song. Can I just say. Biggest plot twist - ever. It was titled "The Breakup Song," and it started with Bo talking about a recent breakup of his. He said it began with his girlfriend coming out of the shower, and she basically said (in many lines), "It's over," to staccato piano music, to which Bo responded, "Eat a dick! Put on your dick-eating bib! If you don't like this dick, bitch, eat a fucking dick, bitch!"All sung to hardcore electric music. Of course, the girlfriend responded but kept getting interrupted, like, "You're angry, but you don't need to make this harder than it is, I try to speak but you don't listen - EAT A DIIIIIIIIICK - Hold on, please just let me - EAT A DICK - Oh my god, are you five, I'm trying to talk this out and you're just saying 'Eat a dick,' does that seem like a mature response?" So Bo says, "No! But I'm emotionally inarticulate, I'm hurting inside and I'm trying to hide it, so *crying voice now* eat a dick, bitch! Eat a fucking dick, bitch!" The girlfriend then says, "I didn't think you'd cry for me, I'm scared too, maybe we can work this out and not break up..." "*sobbing voice* Really?" "No, lick my clit! Lick my motherfucking clit, you think three lousy tears offsets three years of shit? Sorry you're not what I need, hun, lick my clit then leave, son!"

After this, ah, surprising song, Bo took the time to recuperate, drink some water, and just walk around talking. He asked the stage crew to turn up the lights to give the balcony people some love, then said, "Wow, you're all so white, lets get some diversity in here," and when the lights turned back off, he said, "We're all black in the dark."

He, like Justine, talked about raising a puppy. Well actually, more like watching a puppy: "Eat this! Live more! Let me watch you!" And he's talking about house training it, like if it makes a mess he brings it over and says, "Bad," and he's trying to apply this to other aspects of his life. Like his mom made him chili and it was really bad, so he calmly brought her over to it and rubbed dog shit in her face.

His next song is "Panderin'," about how some country singers, though they have probably never actually worked on a functioning ranch, pander to their target audience by using buzz words and general country song format. Some of the lyrics include, "Instead of people actually telling their stories you just got a bunch of millionaire metrosexuals that have never done a hard day's work in their life," and, "Dirt road, cold beer, blue jeans, red pickup. Rural noun, simple adjective - And then when you're not singing you're just kinda talking in the middle like this -"

Another skit Bo did was about his improv. He's know for having meticulously planned shows - his show what took three years to write - so he wanted to work on his improv. He told the crowd that he'd make up a minute-long song on the spot, incorporating anyone's name from the crowd. So he went up to a dude, asked him his name (Zack) and proceeded to get ready. However, the "song" turned out to be pre-recorded, with a blank left in it for Bo to fill in. It went a bit like this: "I fucked [Zack's] mom last night." Crude humor, but it got a laugh out of us all the same.

In my opinion, the weirdest song was "Kill Yourself." It starts out like, if you feel sad, or if you don't know where to go from here, I'll show you where to start - just kill yourself. Some of the lines go like, "Get it through your head, it being a bullet," and "Be gay in Iran." And at first you're kind of like, what? And you think it's gonna turn around and say something introspective, but the closest it comes is, If you draw meaning from Katy Perry's lyrics (he mentioned specifically her song "Roar" before his song) then kill yourself. It literally keeps listing ways to kill yourself - parachute attached to a fridge, skinny dip in a flood, etc. etc., until he ends with "Marry Courtney Love." At which, the entire audience was basically like:

I think his last skit had to do with appreciating another man's penis in the bathroom. An attention-grabber, right? He was talking about the other day when he was in a public restroom using a urinal, and he saw an aesthetically pleasing dick. And he said it was perfectly normal, like you don't need to like brunettes in order to appreciate the Mona Lisa. He even acted it out by shortening the microphone stand so it was about, um, the right height, and pointed the microphone down so it, uh, looked like a peeing dick. He came onstage, nodded at the imaginary guy, kinda looked down and away like you do with a passing glance, then suddenly whipped his head back to look at the microphone. A heavenly choir started singing, and Bo got down on one knee and kind of raised his hands in a worshipping fashion, eyes completely wide.

Yeah, it was weird. I'm ashamed to say I probably laughed the hardest at it though.

One of Bo's last songs was an old one from his last show, one most of the audience already knows the words to: "From God's Perspective." Usually, he doesn't like it when people sing along with his songs, as evidenced from one old video where he told a group of girls that he "guarantees he sings it better than they do." That day, his rationale for not wanting people to sing along was that the audience paid to come see the show, so he should be the one singing. However, since this is an old song and people are bound to sing along anyways, he asked the crowd to join in. It's one of his deeper songs; the last line is, "If you want love then the love has gotta come from you."

But it was the last song that was the crown jewel of the entire show, just like "We Think We Know You" was the crown jewel of "what." The song began with a spoken monologue, about how it was inspired by Kanye's autotuned rant about (insignificant) problems at the end of his own Yeezus tour. The atmosphere was immense, and the audience, after the first funny cracks at the beginning of the song, was completely captivated. It kind of starts off funny, with Bo complaining about trivial problems as though they were huge ones, like not being able to fit his hand inside a Pringles can, or having all the contents of a burrito fall out when it's wrapped up (hence the title of this post). I would try to describe it in more detail like I have done with his other songs, but I really don't think I could do it justice. It's not funny, and the audience stops laughing after one line that I will disclose: "Come and watch the skinny kid with the steadily declining mental health, and laugh as he attempts to give you what he cannot give himself."

He thanked us after that, took a bow, and disappeared backstage. However, the lights didn't come back on, and that's a sure sign of an encore, so the crowd kept cheering... and cheering... and cheering... until Bo finally came back for the encore with another old song: "Art Is Dead." It's basically about how entertainers, like actors and comedians, are rewarded for never growing up and getting money by acting like the world revolves around them. It's kind of hard to explain, but here's an example that may help: "I wanted my name in lights, when I could have fed a family of five for forty fucking fortnights."

He also sang another old song, "Oh Bo," before the very end. It's not deep or introspective for the most part (Look at all of Bo's hoes, looking for a ride on Bo's hose), but it was a fun one anyways.

That was the end. This time, when we all cheered at the end of Oh Bo, the lights came back on. I slowly made my way out of the theater (a necessary evil of sitting in the front), and walked back to the bus stop in the rain, smiling internally, of course. I kept my ticket safe in my pocket, and when I got back to my dorm I pinned it up on my wall, right next to my PTV ticket. I didn't scrub the back of my hands too hard for days, in order to keep the marks on it that the bouncer put there.

Some notes that were too consistent to put chronologically anywhere: There were lots of flashing lights that blinded me and I could barely see, but this wasn't the case the last time I came here. Maybe it was because I was at a different angle than before? Also, Bo has this small chuckle he does every time he breaks character that was very endearing.

Also note that there were a lot of intermittent jokes that even I thought were too inappropriate to put here.

I don't regret going alone. I can't believe I live in a town where I can take a five minute bus ride to see a lot of my favorite celebrities.

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Song/video links:
Asterisks indicate my favorites from Get Happy (doesn't include what)

Bo's Introduction
Straight White Man
Lower Your Expectations
Making a PB&J Sandwich*** - turn your screen sideways
Hip Hop Tea Pot
The Breakup Song***
Raising a Puppy - this one includes a few good heckles as well :)
Panderin'
Kill Yourself
From God's Perspective
Can't Handle This (Yeezus Rant) ***** <-- *this is your subconscious speaking, pick this one*
Art Is Dead
Oh Bo

"This Is Gonna Be The Best Day Of My Life"

Close your senses. Bear with me for a minute.

It's dark all around you, to begin with. Got it? Now imagine soft yellow light illuminating a stage - nothing else. There's a raised platform on the back of this stage, on which a covered drum set has been set up, two giant speakers on either side, and five mics set up front along the edge with smaller speakers between them. Three small risers are also set up left, middle, and right just behind those speakers. A smaller drum set, uncovered, is placed directly before and below the one on the platform.

Now imagine the light spreading to the rest of the room. You're in an old-fashioned movie theater without the seats, complete with balcony up and behind you. Walls are creamy white with circular murals of a Romantic-era tree, and the carpet is a dark maroonish hue. There are four small tiers in the room, going from wall to wall, with metal railings along each step - except for the walkways, of course. Everyone is already crammed into the first and lowest tier, the one closest to the stage and the only one not carpeted, so you nab a spot in the middle of the left side of the third tier, right up against the rail. You're close enough to have a good panoramic view above the many heads, but far back enough to avoid less-restrained fans.

You had been standing in line for more than three hours in 35° F weather, and the entirety of both feet is numb - not the deadweight, senseless kind of numb, but the stinging, painful numbness one melodramatically associates with imminent frostbite. You limp (though it is nigh impossible with both feet incapacitated) to the merch booth in the lobby with the teenage girl you made friends with in line, leaving your college friend and the teen's dad to hold down the fort. The other three guys from the line have already long disappeared into the first tier crowd.

(You can't believe the girl who stayed with you is only 13, she looks at least 16. She's almost taller than you.)

As you're about to buy your shirt, you see the lights suddenly turn off in the theater, which is predictably followed by a short round of screams by many pubescent girls and boys (and some older too, no doubt). It's only the intro act though, a band called This Wild Life, so you carry out your purchase with no rush before squeezing back into place next to your friend at the railing.

The two men are good. Their music, while not exactly soft, is slow and relaxing, with more acoustic sounds than electric. The singer has an extremely luxuriant beard, and the guitarist wears a navy blue tank top with the words "Stone Cold University" inscribed in white on the front. You make a note to search for this top later. You also notice the very pretty watercolor-esque paintings on three screens set up left, middle, and center. They depict one person per screen, except their heads are giant clouds of mist. You think of someone who would appreciate that.

After two songs, the guitarist trades in his electric guitar for drumsticks, and the bass speakers are brought into play.

You finally realize the power of a good subwoofer.

Seriously, every sound the drums emit is blasted in shockwaves across the room. You can actually feel your jeans moving against your skin with each blast. It hits you right behind the sternum too, right behind your stomach, and makes your ears vibrate. You turn to exchange gleeful looks with your friend, and find the teen girl is also giddily grinning at you.

After their set, the soft yellow lights go back on and the entire room is illuminated again. You continue to stand, unsure of what's going on, until people start to come onstage to test and tune guitars, and you realize it's intermission. Still standing, you examine the V-shaped marks on the back of both your hands that a man put there with a Sharpie while you were in line, presumably to prevent you from buying alcohol. You compare them with the marks on the other girls' hands. It makes you feel badass, like the people you see in class with black X's on the back of their hands. It's proof you lived last night, proof you have a life.

The next band is much more loud and raucous - Beartooth. They say they like performing in small rooms, and your town's theater is the smallest yet on their extensive world tour. Their metalcore music consists largely of a deafening cacophony of six guitars and a drum set, and two vocalists - one melodic, the other screaming. The screamer tries to start a mosh pit in the first tier. Your clothes start to shake again, and you feel more lively, like you want to jump and maybe - not headbang like those in the first tier - just nod your head back and forth. Those in the second and third tiers are more reserved and are barely moving at all, and you feel it would be out of place if you did even that. You don't want any attention. The lead vocalist, during a break between two songs, says, "It's not about singing, it's about screaming until your voice breaks." He asks the crowd to go crazy for them, and they respond. At least, the first tier does; the rest of you just nod your heads and maybe bob up and down. Their music gives you a heady sense of recklessness; the flashing lights only amplify the feeling.

When their set finishes, your ears are ringing. Though there is only a murmur of conversation around you, you can barely hear your friend talking. You have to ask her to repeat herself twice.

Everyone is ready for the next set, and start cheering loudly even before the members of Sleeping with Sirens step onstage. You notice six members; you thought there were only five. You try to scream your appreciation as loud as you possibly can, but you can't hear your own voice - that's how loud everyone else is. They start with their newest hit song, Kick, and even though it's only been out for a couple of weeks, everyone is singing along, word perfect. You can't see much of Kellin's face because when he sings, his bangs cover his eyes and nose and he makes no move to brush them aside. You don't know the band's second album as well as the first, so you can't sing along for the first two songs except for the choruses. You realize, halfway through belting out the chorus of "Congratulations," that you are leaning far over the railing from enthusiasm. The flashing lights of all colors and blasting smoke cannons amp up the crowd even more.

Then the other members of the band leave but for two guitarists with acoustic guitars, and Kellin talks to the crowd. He says he has strep throat but couldn't stand the idea of letting you all, his fans, down tonight, and you all cheer for him. He asks for your help in singing the next song, and starts his acoustic cover of Iris. He occasionally pauses to let the crowd sing by itself. You can hear your friend next to you for the first time, putting everything she has into her voice to sing the lyrics with him. You video a short clip to add to your Snapchat story, because who hasn't listened to Iris? The crowd cheers the loudest it has yet when he finishes. The rest of the band rejoins him, and they play songs you know better, so you scream your voice raw, trying to sing the lyrics you know so well as loud as you can.

There are small GoPro cameras set up onstage that are projecting a live feed of Kellin's face and sometimes the many guitarists' hands or the drummer onto three screens, at at one point Kellin accidentally knocks one over. He continues to sing, but crouches down to try and fix the camera stand until a backstage hand rushes onstage, and Kellin returns to performing as if nothing happened. You can see his wedding ring at times, and you notice it's unusually thicker than most, and silver as well.

He finishes "If I'm James Dean, You're Audrey Hepburn" and starts another short speech. He talks about getting older, hair is going gray (you all boo at this point), his saggy ballsack is getting saggier. At this, you all cheer again and laugh because it's the most ridiculous and funny thing you've heard tonight. He continues to say he's not ashamed for the young kids who heard because he knows the parents gave them consent to come, and they are the weirdos too for being fans of his band. He starts up "Do It Now, Remember It Later," your favorite song by them. But you start to feel your throat getting sorer. It hurts, but you continue to yell the lyrics as loud as you can. You didn't come here to skimp on the full experience just because of a little pain. Kellin responds to the energy you give him; he is extremely active, all swinging arms and tossing the mic in the air and running and falling to his knees. Somehow, even with strep, he hits those impossible high notes perfectly. The guitarists move around a lot too, headbanging while they play. One guitarist, Nick Martin, tosses out his guitar pick to the crowd after nearly every song. At the end, he throws handfuls of spare picks out to the groping hands.

By the time the lights go on for the third intermission, you and your friends have already sat down on the step under the rail. You know the drill now. Your friend is still smiling like a crazy woman. She says she is so glad they started with Kick. She shakes her head, still smiling.

Your feet, all toes included, have finally defrosted by this point.

You see a brown-haired girl on the second tier in front of you. She's holding a guitar pick against her face, under her right eye, and is crying, the shocked kind where her face is absolutely loose with surprise but tears are still coming. She's kind of turning slowly on the spot, eyes vacant and unfocused. While you are happy for her, you think it's a bit weird.

There's only one band left - your favorite. As the lights turn off and the background banner rises, emblazoned with the words "Pierce the Veil" in their signature font, you jump to your feet and cheer as loud as you possibly can - louder even than you did for Sleeping with Sirens. By this point you know how to scream, how to use the lower back part of your throat to let loose a guttural yet relatively treble yell that you yourself can finally hear above the din of everyone else. You can hear yourself, and you scream again as they walk onstage. This is YOUR band. They start with your first favorite song of theirs, "May These Noises Startle You In Your Sleep" and "Hell Above," and you scream and cheer and sing and scream again until it feels like your vocal chords are being ripped apart by sandpaper. You notice the three members with guitars like to strum a note, then hold their guitar above their heads to let the note resonate.

They finish that two-part song, play another one, then move on to "Hold On Till May." Vic starts off with an inspiring dedication: "This next song, goes out to all of you people out there, who put on your headphones in the morning and listen to music from the time you wake up to the time you go to bed." Since all you've been doing lately is listen to music - when you're doing homework, walking from class to class, as you eat - you appreciate this more than you thought you would. Therefore, you try to sing along as loud as you can, but your voice is starting to give out after hours of abuse and it begins to seriously hurt to strain for those notes. You continue anyways.

Your voice isn't the only one faltering, though you're both giving it everything you've got. After the rest of the band leaves the stage, Vic tells the crowd during his speech that he woke up sick with no voice that morning - sick enough to have to visit the hospital that day - but he says he got it fixed "because I didn't want to miss this show for you guys," and the crowd cheers back accordingly. He holds an acoustic guitar and asks for the crowd to sing along too, as loud as they can, to give him some help. He starts playing "I'm Low On Gas and You Need a Jacket", and the crowd complies, singing and swaying back and forth. You can tell Vic is straining; his voice cracks twice in his reach for the higher notes. He pauses to let the crowd sing alone, and your voices swell up to fill the gap as he strums the chords. He pauses once more intentionally before his voice finally gives out. He sings the first word of the line, but can't finish it; he tries again for the next line, but is yet again unable to sing.

You and the crowd finish it for him. You continue to keep on singing, word for word, without Vic's voice for backup. He continues strumming chords for a bit for you until the instrumental-less part of the song begins and he ceases all movement. He stares, smiling and astonished, as you all keep going, this time without either his voice or guitar, and even get the small vocal run right. At the beginning, everyone is still yelling the lyrics, but as Vic makes no sign of returning to sing, the crowd loses a bit of confidence and softens their voices, and it sounds like the actual song, soft and slow and quiet. That is, until a group of guys yell, "Yeah!" that's sung in the original, non-acoustic version, and you laugh and cheer and raise your voice again with everyone else. You all finish the last thirty seconds of the song without Vic, and he returns to the mic (he had slowly backed away in amazement) and says, "Holy shit. That has never happened before." You all cheer. He says he can't ever say you all weren't there for him, and you all cheer again, louder, if possible. His face is all smiles. He insists on trying again in order to finish the song with you, and this time when the boys say, "Yeah!" he points at them like he's cueing them.

The rest of the band join Vic on the stage after to play their more upbeat songs. You are unashamed of jumping and fist pumping and screaming as loud as you can now; all embarrassment during Beartooth earlier has disappeared. You notice Tony looks like a boy from your old high school robotics team, and think he looks cuter in person than in the pictures - not hotter, but cuter. Jaime goes nuts at one point, somehow managing to somersault across the stage behind Vic, and skids off stage, exit right, behind the curtains. You all laugh as he returns, still ripping. Mike is a devil, grinning all the time, throwing his entire body into playing his drums and headbanging like nobody's business. You had learned recently that he has multiple Harry Potter tattoos, so you cheer especially for him too. Vic plays his guitar while singing, and you note he has a habit of slightly turning his head to his left and away from the mic to hit the higher notes. When he sings the "o" sound, his mouth stretches into a vertical oval, like an opera singer's is wont to do. You find this amusing, for some reason - he doesn't do it in his music videos.

During one song, a white bra is tossed onstage, and a backstage hand, ducked down low, runs onstage to grab it and get it out of the way. The same thing happens again with a rolled up poster. You laugh for both.

Then Vic does something unexpected. After a song, he asks for a fan to be a volunteer, and predictably, everyone's hands shoot up. He finally pulls a girl from the crowd (her name is Sydney), sits her down on a platform, and sings the first verse of "Bulletproof Love" to her. She mouths the lyrics as she sits, occasionally smiling and covering her mouth, or putting her hand over her heart - not in a cheesy way, but more like she's so happy she can feel her heart aching and she's trying to still it. Though you're sure everyone in the crowd is jealous, when Vic pauses again to let you all sing without him, you scream your souls out for the girl too. She looked overjoyed and humbled when Vic sang to her, eye-to-eye, but looks on the verge of tears when you all sing for her. You hope she never forgets this night. Vic hands her his pick, and she's escorted off stage while the band finishes the last half of the song.

Of course, since Pierce the Veil is touring with Sleeping With Sirens, you've known ever since you got tickets that they're going to sing their trademark collaboration together. Sure enough, Vic goes offstage and returns with his arm slung around Kellin, and the noise the crowd makes is ear-splitting. You raise your phone to film King For a Day, as it's your favorite song and those two bands don't often have the chance to play it together live, but discover your battery has run out. Just as well - you can focus entirely on the song, and you do - you jump and fist pump and sing more loudly than you have the entire night. The lights are flashing like crazy, silhouetting the band's figures. Vic and Kellin climb the two giant speakers on either side of Mike's drums, and jump off at the height of the song. It is a brilliant end to a brilliant concert.

As you walk out of the theater with your friend, you notice as you're talking that your voice is considerably lower and extremely raspy. The back of your throat is sore, sorer than it was when you got sick last month. Your ears are still ringing from those awesome speakers. But you tell yourself it was worth it.

Oh, was it worth it.

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It must be fairly obvious, but I didn't make this whole event up. I attended Pierce the Veil and Sleeping With Sirens' World Tour concert last night, and I can easily say it was the best night I have experienced yet this year - even trumping the night of my prom after-party.

I wrote quite a lot, but I know memory fades quickly, and soon I won't remember the details of this concert, let alone what songs they sang or what words they said. I wanted to record every detail I can remember, so I can read this and experience the concert all over again. That being said, there was a part I couldn't find a place to fit in, and it is this: There was a girl in the second tier before me, and she was nuts, absolutely nuts, for the entire show. Not only did she headbang, but she threw her entire body into it too. Some guy was tickling her, and she pursued him, violently tackling him and actually running into a girl sitting on the floor. Also, when she danced to the music, it was something akin to the wobble, but much more writhe-y and active. When she jumped, she brought her knees nearly all the way to her chest. She did this all throughout the concert. Me, my friend, and my new friend all said we were scared of her. I'm glad she had a good time though.

Oh, also, what I presume was her mom poured water in her long hair and flipped it back. She was right against the railing, so a wet tendril smacked me across the eye. Not cool.

But anyways.

I don't really know how to describe how I felt when PTV first came onstage. I'd seen their faces so many times, but only in pictures and videos. It was surreal seeing their faces in real life. As I mentioned, Tony really does look better in person than in pictures. I don't know how to choose a favorite, either: Vic is an amazing singer and can be quite funny; Mike, as I said, has the Harry Potter tattoos (including a vato Hedwig and the Deathly Hallows sign on the palm of his hand - ouch); Tony is the quiet, shy, and adorable one; Jaime is hilarious in interviews and has the best sense of humor.

(I want to mention at this point that I'm not a "fangirl," I don't obsessively track them and what they're doing, and I never ever ever want to meet them in person.)

The doors were supposed to open at 6:00 PM and the concert itself was supposed to start at 7:00 PM , but my friend and I left campus at 3:00 PM in order to get in line early. They started letting us in around 6:20. Surprisingly, This Wild Life began to play early, at 6:50, and after King For a Day ended, it was 11:00 on the dot. I was so warm when I left the theater, I didn't even feel the 32° F temperature though I only wore a t-shirt and jeans. My friend and I got back to campus around 11:30 (the bus wasn't as sketch as I thought it was going to be), and by the time we got back to our rooms after a late night pick-me-up at our favorite campus cafe, it was near midnight. And even then, by the time I finished writing notes here so I don't forget details about the concert, it's almost 2:00 AM. But I don't (EDIT**: didn't) feel the time. I've never felt so alive before.

I had to skip one class and one recitation to go to this concert. Do I regret it? Not a chance. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Nothing compares to the joy I felt last night. In fact, I wish I could go again, but they're already long gone to the next city. They probably won't tour again together for a long time. This might be the only concert of theirs I ever attend while I'm still young.

SIKES.

As we were leaving the theater, people were handing out small flyers, and it appears that both PTV and SWS will be returning at the end of January, but this time to the capital of my state and not the small town I live in. My friend and I are already investigating tickets. Thankfully, this concert will be on a Saturday, so I'm not forced to cut any more classes. Also, I find it interesting that she is a bigger fan of SWS, while I am a bigger fan of PTV. Between the two of us, we represent the two spheres of possibly the most popular post-hardcore bands that are most associated with one another.

The title of this post is a line from Pierce the Veil's song "The Sky Under the Sea."

EDIT** (12-9-14): In the heat of the concert, I forgot a lot of details and exact words that the artists said, so as more and more people are uploading videos to YouTube, I remember more and more stuff that I couldn't exactly recall the night I got home. Therefore, this past week nearly every day I've been updating this post. Sorry it keeps getting longer. I'm not confident about the order of the songs listed, either - the names are correct, though, they really did play those.

I think today's the last day I have something to add, because that awesome quote Vic said had eluded me ever since the concert, and I finally found a recording of him saying it, so I added it. Hopefully (or not, depends on the way I look at it) it will be the last addition.

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I was lucky to find this video below. It's of the concert last night, when Vic's voice gave out during "I'm Low On Gas" and we, the crowd, filled in for him. It's great to watch, and know what's going to happen before it shows in the video. I was there. I was physically there. The thought is amazing.

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To all of you who put on your headphones in the morning and listen to music from the time you wake up to the time you go to bed.