Last updated on January 22nd, 2019 at 07:43 am
There is a line of people running along the sidewalk on Ceder Avenue.
The forming crowd varies from young girls, hair dyed bright primary colors, bodies wrapped in black hoodies and their flip-haired boyfriends’ protective embraces, to older fans who check their watches, wondering when the doors will open and they can find a spot on the rail, out of the cold.
Everyone present is vaguely aware that this may be the last time, at least for a while, they wait on this particular stretch of sidewalk.
Once inside, the room fills up quickly. The sold-out audience is there by the time the first band, local act Human Form, takes the stage. Philidelphia band Cedar Green is also visibly amazed at the size and enthusiasm of the crowd, and says so as they banter with the audience about football loyalties.
Maybe Minnesotans don’t realize what an impressive music scene they have. However, being a recent transplant to the area, I can see it. And the bands see it.
Tonight is to be the second-to-last show at Minneapolis’ beloved Triple Rock Social Club. Taking its name from a Blues Brother’s reference and providing a home for underground music for nearly two decades, the Triple Rock is a great venue. The sightlines and acoustics are stellar, there is a full bar and it is big enough to have a party yet small enough to provide the intimacy fans love.
Seaway, a popular pop-punk band from Ontario, relishes their opportunity to connect with the audience. They indulge the crowd, take breaks to share shots of opaque brown liquor provided by their “pal, Boomer,” and play sing-along tracks— most notably the welcome 90s pop-punk inspired “Luna on the Beach” (from their latest, Vacation) and the emo-pop-punk anthem, “Airhead.”
As if the air isn’t primed enough, there is a short, fun intro song preceding Silverstein. Then the band hits the stage with seasoned gusto and raw energy, igniting the crowd into an undulating, jumping mosh pit.
There are multiple crowd surfers at any moment, the line between performer and crowd is nonexistent as stage divers receive high-fives from band members before flopping onto the living beast of the audience. The pretty, delicate hipsters of the front row are replaced by jiving, headbanging fans.
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It is some strange culmination of decades’ worth of musical evolution. Say what you will about the end result. This is where we are. The show has all the brooding aggression of the punk era mixed with the apathy of 90s grunge— filtering out more serious topics like politics and oppression and replacing them with love-and-loss thematic elements that make the Emo movement so accessible.
Silverstein are veterans of this moment. While many of their contemporaries have faded into rock purgatory, trading Warped Tour all-nighters for scrapbooking and mini-vans, Silverstein have maintained their core musical unit, consistently touring and regularly releasing new material. They have crafted their sound for the express purpose of creating an environment where kids and adults alike can let loose the emotional build-up imposed on them by the all-seeing, all-judging digital age. They are a live band, to be sure.
At a high point in the show, lead singer Shane Told reveals the only other show the band has played at the Triple Rock was “13 years ago, to the day. There’s a poster back on that wall somewhere.” The band then launches into a track from their early days— “Smashed into Pieces”— before hitting the crescendo of “Ghost,” the lead single from their new album.
Sitting at home, listening to “Ghost,” and musing on the lyrics doesn’t do the song justice. As I heard Told wail “Cold nights in a broken home/Long talks with the dial tone” before expressing his displeasure over his departed’s empty promises, I thought, “This is so superficial. Is he just hung up (pun intended) on an ex? How is this new or interesting? And where is he listening to a dial tone? Is he calling from a landline?”
Of course, I was missing the point. I didn’t get it until I saw the song performed live. Now I do.
