The dim lights inside the small cramped venue created blue and green illuminated silhouettes across the open floor. The anticipation of the crowd grew more and more each second as the set from the previous group was torn down and the headlining band’s set went up. Suddenly, everything went black and the music started.
My dad and I went to our first concert together back in 2015. I convinced him to go see my favorite band, Bring Me the Horizon, because he was a metal-head in high school and would love to experience one more metal concert in his lifetime.
Of course, my dad went into full-on “concert dad” mode; He thought of everything we needed and put them into the ratty drawstring purple backpack I used for every concert. The venue had an extensive list of rules that my dad and I found over the top: No purses, backpacks with zippers, water, food, alcohol, tobacco, etc. I found it ironic that a band that went against society played at a venue that was so restrictive.
Bring Me the Horizon had two openers, PVRIS (read: Paris) and Issues. Both were good, but I found them slightly boring, except for the “wall of death” that Issues instigated. My dad, however, was having the time of his life. The way he put it was, “I can’t believe that I can just hit someone and no one cares! After I learned that, I was all about moshing.”
My dad is 6’4 and broad, so the sight of him standing head and shoulders above all the skinny emo kids was quite a sight. It was nice though, because it kept me from getting torn up.
The lull in-between the last opener and Bring Me the Horizon was hot, sweaty, and full of anticipation from black-clad teenagers. Without a cue, the crowd collectively started screaming as the beginning song, “Doomed,” started to play. Since it was one of my favorite songs, it triggered the out-of-body experience everyone has at concerts.
Between the black silhouettes of the band, the crowd collectively singing with their hands raised, and the overall atmosphere of unity, I felt peace. Everyone in that show came from a different walk of life, but we all joined together and connected with this one band. I am always amazed at how people can connect on such a deep level just from music. My dad and I connected by just experiencing and enjoying the concert and our relationship grew.
The most unforgettable moment for me, besides watching my dad in the mosh pit, was the most forgettable to any on-looker. The band had just come back for an encore and played “Drown.” I look over to my left and I see a guy about my height with black hair, a black outfit, black everything. He looked at me and we locked eyes. We both smiled at each other before both of us returned to enjoying the concert.
The night ended with my dad and I shouting, as the concert made us deaf. After the concert, we ate Whataburger at 1:30 in the morning.
Moral of the story: Always take your dad to a concert. You’ll have the best night of your life. I know I did.
