Ultimate DecayDanceFest Concert Recap of Doom
OMG I AM HOME. And I finally wrote my concert review! It is, uhm. It is kind of long.
THE TRIP
The whole adventure started out auspiciously when quettaser and I sat down to eat something at the Philadelphia airport (shittiest. airport. ever.) and I managed to say something loud about gay porn, causing a woman next to us to do the biggest, most obvious double take in the history of the world. I know how to set a tone, ladies and gentlemen.
I'm not going to go into the plane ride and the journey to our hostel, because hi, boring. But I should admit that, for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Rachel came to the conclusion that I was a complete space cadet long before we got there. Possibly she will tell you why later, but I will maintain a dignified silence on the subject and only mention that MANY PEOPLE might possibly leave their luggage on the tube and walk off in a different direction. It is a mistake anyone could make, that is all I am saying, okay.
THE LINE
The wait in line was - long. Long and wet and cold. Luckily, it was wet, cold, and filled with FANGIRLS, which makes a lot of things tolerable, you know? We found, oh my god, I am never going to remember everyone's username, but a ton of fangirls. In rough chronological order: satsuma77, scarletswidow, bexless, megolas, jamjar, alchemywow, espoirliberte, lovinspike247, shiny-sly, calathea, emilyray, sparktastic, and probably a million other people who were super nice and whose usernames I can't remember at ALL. By the end of the day, it was a good 15/20 slashers, I'd say. They passed out free ponchos, which was nice, and we wrote classy classy things on them with marker, like, "Hi, my name is Kalpurna, and I'm pretty much a big deal," and "Hello, you are a very pretty boy/girl, would you like a present?" Also, the fangirls held our place in line for an hour while we checked in at the hostel and changed clothes, which was A++.
Unfortunately, I had, by 4:00 PM, been awake for about 28 hours, and I was fading fast. I must have been acting crazy or drunk, because that's certainly how I felt. I started to do a lot of staring blankly at people and asking what time it was. I think we had awesome conversations about gay porn, but honestly, it's kind of a blur. Uhm. I hope I didn't act TOO spacey, but I'm afraid I was pretty out of it. Fangirls: I swear I am usually less messed up! Jet lag is a killer!
While we were at the hostel, Zack and Jon Walker had apparently walked by the line, going somewhere or other, and they came back shortly after we did. Zack shepherding Jon Walker across the street with one protective hand on his back and a little horde of fangirls trailing behind them like ducks = cutest thing evvvver. Oh wait, except I lied, because the cutest thing EVER is what happened to lovinspike247 when she went over near the buses to give Panic some gifts she had for them! I wasn't there, but as we heard afterwards, Ryan Ross came out and OFFERED THE FANGIRLS SOUP, because it was cold and wet, and because Ryan Ross is apparently a nurturing mother figure. When she told us, everyone said, "Oh my God! This completely fucks with my characterization." It opens up so many possibilities, doesn't it? Ryro the World War 2 nurse! Ryro the kindergarten teacher! Ryro the soccer mom!!! Amaaaaazing.
Hmmm, what else happened in line? Oh, I know! Some random dude in a trucker hat came out on a balcony way across the street and down, probably to check out the insanity from a safe distance, and everyone assumed it must be Patrick Stump. The whole line started shrieking at him. He waved, tentatively. The girls screamed. He waved harder. They screamed again. He climbed up on the railing and waved both arms in the air, and the kids went CRAZY, and then slowly realized that this was not a very PStump thing to do. It was pretty lolarious. That dude must have been STOKED.
There were some thirteen-year-old girls behind us who were annoying as FUCK. They kept trying to sneak past us, and one of them, who was utterly trashed, kept leaning on me with her entire weight. Um, hi, we're in line, not the pit. She was also wearing an obnoxious pink bra on top of her t-shirt, with "Panic!" scrawled on it in marker, along with band members' names, etc. Remember this, because it will be important soon.
As it got closer to 6:30 PM and I passed the 30 hour mark, I remember leaning on quettaser like a lost lamb, and her telling me not to worry, because G.A.B.E. was going to get me high. And oh my god, she was so right. GABE SAPORTA, I CANNOT EVEN. He is so fucking awesome, seriously. I want to party with that dude so badly!
THE ATMOSPHERE
Before I get to that, I should probably mention where I was, physically. I lost everyone within seconds, and I was alone for almost the entire concert, although I bonded with a lot of random fifteen-year-olds, which was sweet. I ended up third row from the barricade, slightly right of center, which is where I wanted to be (away from Ryan Ross's side of the stage, because oh dear god, HELP!) The pit was, I am not kidding, fucking insane. It's not that people were moshing, exactly - it's that instead of there being a bunch of rows of people pressed right up against each other, with more spacing further back, there were rows and rows and rows of full body contact. There were SO MANY PEOPLE.
And they all were into every single freaking band. You might think Cobra would be chiller, since they're less famous? Oh, no. No. It was fucking nuts. I sweated so much that my fingers were pruny before the end of Cobra's set. It. Was. Insane. The amount of body heat coming off of that many people was - okay, the air for thirty feet above the stage? Looked foggy. There was so much steam from people sweating that it looked like there was a smoke machine in the theater. This also meant that pretty much all of the band dudes were dripping sweat, which, uh, I did not disapprove of.
THE COBRA
The Cobra Starship set was pure solidified awesome. I don't think people who haven't seen that band live can fully appreciate how quickly you want to join the Church of Hot Addiction. Gabe Saporta comes out, and he dances, and he stares at you with his rapist eyes, and Vicky-T plays her keytar, and it is MAGIC. Seriously. bexless was utterly converted. The crowd was fantastically into it, considering that Cobra has never played in the UK before. (Or have they? Anyway, they're not that well-known.) Everyone knew all the words, and more than once, Gabe just stopped singing for a minute and listened to the crowd shouting the lyrics at him, grinning. It was much, much better than the Honda Civic Tour, as far as audience recognition.
Very early in their set, Gabe was doing between-song patter, and a pink bra came flying onto the stage. Gabe, being Gabe, picked it up immediately and started talking to the crowd about it. Guys, it was the Panic bra from that drunk chick. IT WAS HILARIOUS. He mocked it hard, and then he said he was going to wear it later. Ahahaha, Gabe, you are kind of my favorite. The set was way too short for my taste, but the thing that made up for it was Bring It, with Travis and Bill. The OT3, reunited! Travis was profoundly and obviously stoned, and spent a lot of time staring out at the crowd and licking his mouth, which was so fucking hot I cannot even express it. Also his hair was kind of short, and his stubble was short, and he was absurdly gorgeous. There was too much pretty on that stage to even handle.
At the end of the set, Gabe introduced the other bands as "the most good-looking band on this tour, The Academy Is; the sexiest band, Gym Class Heroes; my favorites, Panic! at the Disco (oh god, please, keep Gabe away from the children); and motherfucking Fall Out Boy."
THE ACADEMY
So, TAI. I just - they are not my favorites. And their fans are reeeeally not my favorites, although it was better in London than in Chicago, for obvious reasons. But I cannot deny that they were good-looking. Sisky Biz? Was hot as SIN. He had stubble, oh my God, it was intense. There was some stage-gay, which was nice, but a little weak. Guitar sex from two feet away? Please. The Butcher, as always, was basically naked. Those plaid pants should be fucking framed. Bill Beckett was glowy and beautiful! Possibly this is because he was trashed, given that he drank at least four inches of vodka on stage, but it was still lovely to watch. He was all smiley! Good effort, Bill Beckett!
GCH
This was my first time seeing Gym Class Heroes in concert, and they were definitely solid. My problem is that I'm not familiar enough with their music, so it wasn't as much fun as it could have been, and I felt mad guilty every time Travie came over to stand right in front of me and I didn't know the lyrics. Sorry, dude! On the other hand, he was fucked up enough that I'd bet good money he didn't notice. He kept coming really close to the crowd, which meant that the pit was very very intense, and I was very very squashed. Disashi was super hot, as was Matt, and I don't know the other dudes' names? But they looked good?
It's also at this point that I started seriously having trouble with my, uhm, clothing. My shirt was so soaked with sweat that it felt as if I'd just pulled it out of a lake, and I made the horrible mistake of wearing a v-neck. WHAT WAS I THINKING. Everyone behind me kept leaning their elbows on my shoulders and jumping up and down and every time this happened, my shirt (and bra) crept further up my stomach and further down off my shoulders, and I couldn't fix it, because my arms were trapped. There were nice girls next to me who pulled it up a few times, but that worked for about five minutes before I was back to a small donut of fabric around my boobs. Siiiigh.
The band did a little cover of Beautiful Girls by Sean Kingston, AWESOMELY, and I kind of died. I love that song without the slightest irony. My deep-seated desire for Patrick/Travis was satisfied, too, when Patrick came out for the last verse of Cupid's Chokehold, and ended the song with an awes. hug. Patrick/Travis, everyone: it's the wave of the future! They have the best hugs in history!
Patrick didn't come out for Clothes Off, but you know who did? The Butcher (and Dirty, but uh, priorities). And the Butcher? Takes the directions in that song very seriously. Tiny, tiny, tiny manpanties, y'all. It was perfection. Some girl next to me screamed, "Show us the whole tattoo!!" and I agreed very very much. Ironically, this is when my shirt really gave up the battle. But whatever, because no one could SEE anything with that crush, right? Oh, famous last words.
They rocked the house, seriously. People were crazy into it, which was a lot of fun. Yay, Gym Class Heroes!
PANIC AT THE BRODEO
And next was Panic! I hadn't seen them live before, either, so I was pretty psyched. Uhm, and so was the rest of the crowd, because I have never been that insanely crushed in my entire life. Oh, dear lord, it was bad. It was BAD.
But let's get to the important stuff: outfits! Jon Walker was wearing a thin grey t-shirt, which was a) soaked with sweat and b) nipple-licious. Also, his boyhair is way hotter in person. Jon Walker, do me. I am not joking. Brendon Urie was wearing his little fitted Brokeback Prepster shirt, and made ridiculous faces, and was precious. Ryan Ross was weaing the most magnificent flowery scarf/headband/cropped trench coat combo I have ever seen in my life. Ryan Ross, you are all my dreams come true.
Spencer Smith gets his own paragraph, because oh, I thought I was attracted to him before. ALJKASFLKSJ OH SWEET JESUS. I have no words left, because Spencer Smith the Fifth stole them all. He was wearing a black button-up, and he unbuttoned just the top button because he's a fucking tease, and he was sweaty and licking his lips and doing his relaxed flowy competent drumming thing, and it was probably the hottest thing I have ever seen in real life, ever. And he kept SMILING. They were all smiling, but Spencer's smiles, ohhhh, they are magical. Brendon and Jon both kept walking back to face him, and oh man, I don't know how they even turned around. I certainly couldn't have. At one point he was singing along, and I sincerely hope no one took a picture of my face right then, because I had A Moment.
During the second song, the sound for Ryro's guitar stopped working. Jon stepped up to the mic and asked Ryan what was going on, and Ryan said he didn't know. Brendon asked if he wanted to just hang out, and Ryro was like, that's cool, and it was very very adorable. He had lots of sound problems, apparently, but because of where I was standing, I missed most of it. My viewing angle meant that I could see Spencer 90% of the time, Jon 60%, Brendon 30%, and Ryan if I craned my neck awkwardly around and stood on my toes. Honestly, this suited me perfectly.
They mashed up Camisado (I think) with Roxanne, randomly! It ruled! They played The Weight, and I diiiied of awesome. The new songs sound fantastic live, for serious. I actually think they sound better live than the old songs, but then, I didn't love the last album, so opinions may differ. The un-fucked-up ending of Back to the Streets is way cool. I'm officially excited for the new record.
JWalk talks a lot, more than I realized. It's fantastic! I approve! I'm pretty sure he gave a shoutout to fans? I don't know, I was busy being crushed to death?
Brendon had two good moments of banter (that I heard, at least. You should probably go find a better Panic! recap, tbh, because I couldn't hear or see half of what went down) and they both involved gender-neutral language. He thanked the fans, and talked about how Decaydance is a family, and the fans are becoming part of the family - and if we're a family, then he has "some really hot cousins." Then he introed Lying by saying "This is a song about fucking. Other human beings." The pronoun game = my bulletproof kink, as always.
People threw stuff at them a couple of times, which struck me as being in bad taste - a water bottle, which rolled under the piano and caused him to do a little eyebrow thing, and many glowsticks, one of which landed on his hands while he was playing, and he had to snatch it off. He told the audience, "Good aim." OH ALSO he tossed his own water bottle out into the crowd, at some point, and then he looked around and went, "Oh man, I hope that didn't hit anyone! I know how that feels." Panic, my angels: I will buy you a fence to take to England, okay?
I <3 those losers.
It was around the end of their set that I just couldn't take the pit any more, and asked the security guard to pull me out. My shirt and bra, as previously mentioned, had been creeping both down and up during the entire concert; by this point, I had a little wrinked strip of fabric covering my nipples, and that was about it. It took a good 45 seconds to pull me out, because of how tightly jammed in the crowd was, which gave me ample time to think about two things: 1) how incredibly, incredibly packed the theater looked from this vantage point, and 2) how Brendon Urie was right above my head and I was kind of half naked. Oh my God, Brendon, I am so sorry about that. I know you are afraid of boobs! I did not mean to freak you out. Jon Walker may or may not have appreciated the view, but I sincerely hope Brendon averted his eyes, for the sake of both our comfort zones. Ugh, awkward.
I wandered (staggered) back around the barricade to the back of the theater, and I didn't get halfway across the room before bexless and quettaser snagged me. And then the only thing left was Fall Out Boy.
MOTHERFUCKING FALL OUT BOY
Guys. This is my band. I love them so fucking much, I swear. The moment they walked out on stage, 34 hours without sleep felt like nothing at all. It's a new experience for me to feel this way about a band, because I was never a music fan growing up, and it is just the best fucking feeling in the world. It's like floating and flying and dancing and I love it, I love them.
Patrick was wearing his shiny pleather jacket thing from the Today Show, zipped all the way up, which was a) hot as fuck, from a distance, at least, and b) probably hot as fuck, temperature-wise. Patrick, you are more of a jacket slut than Gerard! Take that thing OFF. Jeez.
It didn't seem to slow him down any, though. He was rocking the fuck OUT. He rocked way harder than he did during the HCT, physically, strutting around and headbanging and making little fey hand gestures and being a rock star. He was in fine, fine form, and Joe and Pete must have been feeling it, too, because they were all over him. Pete did the knee-slide thing, and just threw himself at Patrick. It was gay and awesome. He did the head-leaning on the chorus of Hum Hallelujah and "the best way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact," which never, ever fails to get me where it counts. My God, they are such an OTP. I don't even care if you slash them: they are in love. That relationship is true fucking love, and I believe this with all of my tinhatted heart.
You already know about the Don't Matter gayitude, so I won't recap, but I will say that Bex and Rachel and I flailed at each other. The only thing better than seeing that happen was seeing it happen with fangirls. ♥ There was some - I don't know, contextually suggestive gayness in the later banter? Like Pete ending his mockery of David Beckham with "but whatever, because I slept with someone in Fall Out Boy." I know it's the (shortened) name of the song. It was still gay.
He also said Me and You was about falling in love in London, and then dedicated it to the dude from the Plain White T's - who proceded to walk out with an acoustic guitar and sing Hey There Delilah, while I thought about shoemaster's and my mpreg AU, where Pete and Patrick's assbaby is named Delilah. Uhm, that's about all I got out of it, tbh. Not nearly as awesome as Lupe Fiasco.
Let's see, what am I forgetting? They covered Power of Love, from Back to the Future, like the dorkasses they are. They covered Beat It. Pete talked about how it was fun to get to play with Panic again, and then added, "But we should go beat up whoever picked Ryan Ross's outfit." I LOLED.
Gabe came out and sang on Thnks, and Travis dropped a verse in some song? I don't remember exactly, but I know they both showed up on stage at some point. Pete dedicated Sophomore Slump to William Beckett, who then came out and sang with Patrick. He was all over Patrick, actually, touching his face and getting into his personal space, and when he stepped away a little bit, Patrick followed him and tried to do a Pete-style gay lean. It failed kind of hilariously, in that he ended up leaning on Beckett's, like, elbow. As he left the stage, Bill pinched Pete's cheek.
And that's all I can remember! I'm sure I'm forgetting shit, but since this is already the longest thing I've written in months, I'm going to stop here.
OH MY GOD IF YOU READ ALL OF THAT YOU SHOULD GET SOME KIND OF AWARD. And that's just Wednesday, bbs. I don't know if I'm going to manage recapping the rest of the London trip, but guys: it was so worth it. It was so, so worth it. Best decision ever. ♥
And now, to catch up on my flist and comments. Skip = my ass. /o\
P.S. The airline lost my bag. UGH, WHAT.
THE TRIP
The whole adventure started out auspiciously when quettaser and I sat down to eat something at the Philadelphia airport (shittiest. airport. ever.) and I managed to say something loud about gay porn, causing a woman next to us to do the biggest, most obvious double take in the history of the world. I know how to set a tone, ladies and gentlemen.
I'm not going to go into the plane ride and the journey to our hostel, because hi, boring. But I should admit that, for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Rachel came to the conclusion that I was a complete space cadet long before we got there. Possibly she will tell you why later, but I will maintain a dignified silence on the subject and only mention that MANY PEOPLE might possibly leave their luggage on the tube and walk off in a different direction. It is a mistake anyone could make, that is all I am saying, okay.
THE LINE
The wait in line was - long. Long and wet and cold. Luckily, it was wet, cold, and filled with FANGIRLS, which makes a lot of things tolerable, you know? We found, oh my god, I am never going to remember everyone's username, but a ton of fangirls. In rough chronological order: satsuma77, scarletswidow, bexless, megolas, jamjar, alchemywow, espoirliberte, lovinspike247, shiny-sly, calathea, emilyray, sparktastic, and probably a million other people who were super nice and whose usernames I can't remember at ALL. By the end of the day, it was a good 15/20 slashers, I'd say. They passed out free ponchos, which was nice, and we wrote classy classy things on them with marker, like, "Hi, my name is Kalpurna, and I'm pretty much a big deal," and "Hello, you are a very pretty boy/girl, would you like a present?" Also, the fangirls held our place in line for an hour while we checked in at the hostel and changed clothes, which was A++.
Unfortunately, I had, by 4:00 PM, been awake for about 28 hours, and I was fading fast. I must have been acting crazy or drunk, because that's certainly how I felt. I started to do a lot of staring blankly at people and asking what time it was. I think we had awesome conversations about gay porn, but honestly, it's kind of a blur. Uhm. I hope I didn't act TOO spacey, but I'm afraid I was pretty out of it. Fangirls: I swear I am usually less messed up! Jet lag is a killer!
While we were at the hostel, Zack and Jon Walker had apparently walked by the line, going somewhere or other, and they came back shortly after we did. Zack shepherding Jon Walker across the street with one protective hand on his back and a little horde of fangirls trailing behind them like ducks = cutest thing evvvver. Oh wait, except I lied, because the cutest thing EVER is what happened to lovinspike247 when she went over near the buses to give Panic some gifts she had for them! I wasn't there, but as we heard afterwards, Ryan Ross came out and OFFERED THE FANGIRLS SOUP, because it was cold and wet, and because Ryan Ross is apparently a nurturing mother figure. When she told us, everyone said, "Oh my God! This completely fucks with my characterization." It opens up so many possibilities, doesn't it? Ryro the World War 2 nurse! Ryro the kindergarten teacher! Ryro the soccer mom!!! Amaaaaazing.
Hmmm, what else happened in line? Oh, I know! Some random dude in a trucker hat came out on a balcony way across the street and down, probably to check out the insanity from a safe distance, and everyone assumed it must be Patrick Stump. The whole line started shrieking at him. He waved, tentatively. The girls screamed. He waved harder. They screamed again. He climbed up on the railing and waved both arms in the air, and the kids went CRAZY, and then slowly realized that this was not a very PStump thing to do. It was pretty lolarious. That dude must have been STOKED.
There were some thirteen-year-old girls behind us who were annoying as FUCK. They kept trying to sneak past us, and one of them, who was utterly trashed, kept leaning on me with her entire weight. Um, hi, we're in line, not the pit. She was also wearing an obnoxious pink bra on top of her t-shirt, with "Panic!" scrawled on it in marker, along with band members' names, etc. Remember this, because it will be important soon.
As it got closer to 6:30 PM and I passed the 30 hour mark, I remember leaning on quettaser like a lost lamb, and her telling me not to worry, because G.A.B.E. was going to get me high. And oh my god, she was so right. GABE SAPORTA, I CANNOT EVEN. He is so fucking awesome, seriously. I want to party with that dude so badly!
THE ATMOSPHERE
Before I get to that, I should probably mention where I was, physically. I lost everyone within seconds, and I was alone for almost the entire concert, although I bonded with a lot of random fifteen-year-olds, which was sweet. I ended up third row from the barricade, slightly right of center, which is where I wanted to be (away from Ryan Ross's side of the stage, because oh dear god, HELP!) The pit was, I am not kidding, fucking insane. It's not that people were moshing, exactly - it's that instead of there being a bunch of rows of people pressed right up against each other, with more spacing further back, there were rows and rows and rows of full body contact. There were SO MANY PEOPLE.
And they all were into every single freaking band. You might think Cobra would be chiller, since they're less famous? Oh, no. No. It was fucking nuts. I sweated so much that my fingers were pruny before the end of Cobra's set. It. Was. Insane. The amount of body heat coming off of that many people was - okay, the air for thirty feet above the stage? Looked foggy. There was so much steam from people sweating that it looked like there was a smoke machine in the theater. This also meant that pretty much all of the band dudes were dripping sweat, which, uh, I did not disapprove of.
THE COBRA
The Cobra Starship set was pure solidified awesome. I don't think people who haven't seen that band live can fully appreciate how quickly you want to join the Church of Hot Addiction. Gabe Saporta comes out, and he dances, and he stares at you with his rapist eyes, and Vicky-T plays her keytar, and it is MAGIC. Seriously. bexless was utterly converted. The crowd was fantastically into it, considering that Cobra has never played in the UK before. (Or have they? Anyway, they're not that well-known.) Everyone knew all the words, and more than once, Gabe just stopped singing for a minute and listened to the crowd shouting the lyrics at him, grinning. It was much, much better than the Honda Civic Tour, as far as audience recognition.
Very early in their set, Gabe was doing between-song patter, and a pink bra came flying onto the stage. Gabe, being Gabe, picked it up immediately and started talking to the crowd about it. Guys, it was the Panic bra from that drunk chick. IT WAS HILARIOUS. He mocked it hard, and then he said he was going to wear it later. Ahahaha, Gabe, you are kind of my favorite. The set was way too short for my taste, but the thing that made up for it was Bring It, with Travis and Bill. The OT3, reunited! Travis was profoundly and obviously stoned, and spent a lot of time staring out at the crowd and licking his mouth, which was so fucking hot I cannot even express it. Also his hair was kind of short, and his stubble was short, and he was absurdly gorgeous. There was too much pretty on that stage to even handle.
At the end of the set, Gabe introduced the other bands as "the most good-looking band on this tour, The Academy Is; the sexiest band, Gym Class Heroes; my favorites, Panic! at the Disco (oh god, please, keep Gabe away from the children); and motherfucking Fall Out Boy."
THE ACADEMY
So, TAI. I just - they are not my favorites. And their fans are reeeeally not my favorites, although it was better in London than in Chicago, for obvious reasons. But I cannot deny that they were good-looking. Sisky Biz? Was hot as SIN. He had stubble, oh my God, it was intense. There was some stage-gay, which was nice, but a little weak. Guitar sex from two feet away? Please. The Butcher, as always, was basically naked. Those plaid pants should be fucking framed. Bill Beckett was glowy and beautiful! Possibly this is because he was trashed, given that he drank at least four inches of vodka on stage, but it was still lovely to watch. He was all smiley! Good effort, Bill Beckett!
GCH
This was my first time seeing Gym Class Heroes in concert, and they were definitely solid. My problem is that I'm not familiar enough with their music, so it wasn't as much fun as it could have been, and I felt mad guilty every time Travie came over to stand right in front of me and I didn't know the lyrics. Sorry, dude! On the other hand, he was fucked up enough that I'd bet good money he didn't notice. He kept coming really close to the crowd, which meant that the pit was very very intense, and I was very very squashed. Disashi was super hot, as was Matt, and I don't know the other dudes' names? But they looked good?
It's also at this point that I started seriously having trouble with my, uhm, clothing. My shirt was so soaked with sweat that it felt as if I'd just pulled it out of a lake, and I made the horrible mistake of wearing a v-neck. WHAT WAS I THINKING. Everyone behind me kept leaning their elbows on my shoulders and jumping up and down and every time this happened, my shirt (and bra) crept further up my stomach and further down off my shoulders, and I couldn't fix it, because my arms were trapped. There were nice girls next to me who pulled it up a few times, but that worked for about five minutes before I was back to a small donut of fabric around my boobs. Siiiigh.
The band did a little cover of Beautiful Girls by Sean Kingston, AWESOMELY, and I kind of died. I love that song without the slightest irony. My deep-seated desire for Patrick/Travis was satisfied, too, when Patrick came out for the last verse of Cupid's Chokehold, and ended the song with an awes. hug. Patrick/Travis, everyone: it's the wave of the future! They have the best hugs in history!
Patrick didn't come out for Clothes Off, but you know who did? The Butcher (and Dirty, but uh, priorities). And the Butcher? Takes the directions in that song very seriously. Tiny, tiny, tiny manpanties, y'all. It was perfection. Some girl next to me screamed, "Show us the whole tattoo!!" and I agreed very very much. Ironically, this is when my shirt really gave up the battle. But whatever, because no one could SEE anything with that crush, right? Oh, famous last words.
They rocked the house, seriously. People were crazy into it, which was a lot of fun. Yay, Gym Class Heroes!
PANIC AT THE BRODEO
And next was Panic! I hadn't seen them live before, either, so I was pretty psyched. Uhm, and so was the rest of the crowd, because I have never been that insanely crushed in my entire life. Oh, dear lord, it was bad. It was BAD.
But let's get to the important stuff: outfits! Jon Walker was wearing a thin grey t-shirt, which was a) soaked with sweat and b) nipple-licious. Also, his boyhair is way hotter in person. Jon Walker, do me. I am not joking. Brendon Urie was wearing his little fitted Brokeback Prepster shirt, and made ridiculous faces, and was precious. Ryan Ross was weaing the most magnificent flowery scarf/headband/cropped trench coat combo I have ever seen in my life. Ryan Ross, you are all my dreams come true.
Spencer Smith gets his own paragraph, because oh, I thought I was attracted to him before. ALJKASFLKSJ OH SWEET JESUS. I have no words left, because Spencer Smith the Fifth stole them all. He was wearing a black button-up, and he unbuttoned just the top button because he's a fucking tease, and he was sweaty and licking his lips and doing his relaxed flowy competent drumming thing, and it was probably the hottest thing I have ever seen in real life, ever. And he kept SMILING. They were all smiling, but Spencer's smiles, ohhhh, they are magical. Brendon and Jon both kept walking back to face him, and oh man, I don't know how they even turned around. I certainly couldn't have. At one point he was singing along, and I sincerely hope no one took a picture of my face right then, because I had A Moment.
During the second song, the sound for Ryro's guitar stopped working. Jon stepped up to the mic and asked Ryan what was going on, and Ryan said he didn't know. Brendon asked if he wanted to just hang out, and Ryro was like, that's cool, and it was very very adorable. He had lots of sound problems, apparently, but because of where I was standing, I missed most of it. My viewing angle meant that I could see Spencer 90% of the time, Jon 60%, Brendon 30%, and Ryan if I craned my neck awkwardly around and stood on my toes. Honestly, this suited me perfectly.
They mashed up Camisado (I think) with Roxanne, randomly! It ruled! They played The Weight, and I diiiied of awesome. The new songs sound fantastic live, for serious. I actually think they sound better live than the old songs, but then, I didn't love the last album, so opinions may differ. The un-fucked-up ending of Back to the Streets is way cool. I'm officially excited for the new record.
JWalk talks a lot, more than I realized. It's fantastic! I approve! I'm pretty sure he gave a shoutout to fans? I don't know, I was busy being crushed to death?
Brendon had two good moments of banter (that I heard, at least. You should probably go find a better Panic! recap, tbh, because I couldn't hear or see half of what went down) and they both involved gender-neutral language. He thanked the fans, and talked about how Decaydance is a family, and the fans are becoming part of the family - and if we're a family, then he has "some really hot cousins." Then he introed Lying by saying "This is a song about fucking. Other human beings." The pronoun game = my bulletproof kink, as always.
People threw stuff at them a couple of times, which struck me as being in bad taste - a water bottle, which rolled under the piano and caused him to do a little eyebrow thing, and many glowsticks, one of which landed on his hands while he was playing, and he had to snatch it off. He told the audience, "Good aim." OH ALSO he tossed his own water bottle out into the crowd, at some point, and then he looked around and went, "Oh man, I hope that didn't hit anyone! I know how that feels." Panic, my angels: I will buy you a fence to take to England, okay?
I <3 those losers.
It was around the end of their set that I just couldn't take the pit any more, and asked the security guard to pull me out. My shirt and bra, as previously mentioned, had been creeping both down and up during the entire concert; by this point, I had a little wrinked strip of fabric covering my nipples, and that was about it. It took a good 45 seconds to pull me out, because of how tightly jammed in the crowd was, which gave me ample time to think about two things: 1) how incredibly, incredibly packed the theater looked from this vantage point, and 2) how Brendon Urie was right above my head and I was kind of half naked. Oh my God, Brendon, I am so sorry about that. I know you are afraid of boobs! I did not mean to freak you out. Jon Walker may or may not have appreciated the view, but I sincerely hope Brendon averted his eyes, for the sake of both our comfort zones. Ugh, awkward.
I wandered (staggered) back around the barricade to the back of the theater, and I didn't get halfway across the room before bexless and quettaser snagged me. And then the only thing left was Fall Out Boy.
MOTHERFUCKING FALL OUT BOY
Guys. This is my band. I love them so fucking much, I swear. The moment they walked out on stage, 34 hours without sleep felt like nothing at all. It's a new experience for me to feel this way about a band, because I was never a music fan growing up, and it is just the best fucking feeling in the world. It's like floating and flying and dancing and I love it, I love them.
Patrick was wearing his shiny pleather jacket thing from the Today Show, zipped all the way up, which was a) hot as fuck, from a distance, at least, and b) probably hot as fuck, temperature-wise. Patrick, you are more of a jacket slut than Gerard! Take that thing OFF. Jeez.
It didn't seem to slow him down any, though. He was rocking the fuck OUT. He rocked way harder than he did during the HCT, physically, strutting around and headbanging and making little fey hand gestures and being a rock star. He was in fine, fine form, and Joe and Pete must have been feeling it, too, because they were all over him. Pete did the knee-slide thing, and just threw himself at Patrick. It was gay and awesome. He did the head-leaning on the chorus of Hum Hallelujah and "the best way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact," which never, ever fails to get me where it counts. My God, they are such an OTP. I don't even care if you slash them: they are in love. That relationship is true fucking love, and I believe this with all of my tinhatted heart.
You already know about the Don't Matter gayitude, so I won't recap, but I will say that Bex and Rachel and I flailed at each other. The only thing better than seeing that happen was seeing it happen with fangirls. ♥ There was some - I don't know, contextually suggestive gayness in the later banter? Like Pete ending his mockery of David Beckham with "but whatever, because I slept with someone in Fall Out Boy." I know it's the (shortened) name of the song. It was still gay.
He also said Me and You was about falling in love in London, and then dedicated it to the dude from the Plain White T's - who proceded to walk out with an acoustic guitar and sing Hey There Delilah, while I thought about shoemaster's and my mpreg AU, where Pete and Patrick's assbaby is named Delilah. Uhm, that's about all I got out of it, tbh. Not nearly as awesome as Lupe Fiasco.
Let's see, what am I forgetting? They covered Power of Love, from Back to the Future, like the dorkasses they are. They covered Beat It. Pete talked about how it was fun to get to play with Panic again, and then added, "But we should go beat up whoever picked Ryan Ross's outfit." I LOLED.
Gabe came out and sang on Thnks, and Travis dropped a verse in some song? I don't remember exactly, but I know they both showed up on stage at some point. Pete dedicated Sophomore Slump to William Beckett, who then came out and sang with Patrick. He was all over Patrick, actually, touching his face and getting into his personal space, and when he stepped away a little bit, Patrick followed him and tried to do a Pete-style gay lean. It failed kind of hilariously, in that he ended up leaning on Beckett's, like, elbow. As he left the stage, Bill pinched Pete's cheek.
And that's all I can remember! I'm sure I'm forgetting shit, but since this is already the longest thing I've written in months, I'm going to stop here.
OH MY GOD IF YOU READ ALL OF THAT YOU SHOULD GET SOME KIND OF AWARD. And that's just Wednesday, bbs. I don't know if I'm going to manage recapping the rest of the London trip, but guys: it was so worth it. It was so, so worth it. Best decision ever. ♥
And now, to catch up on my flist and comments. Skip = my ass. /o\
P.S. The airline lost my bag. UGH, WHAT.