‘dreams walking in broad daylight
Three hundred sixty-five degrees’
That’s how last Saturday night felt like.
A fever dream, an hallucination, hitting Hayley’s stash of edibles a bit too enthusiastically. Who knows. But it wasn’t meant to happen until it did.
One minute you’re contemplating finally putting away your laundry and folding your dreams away once and for all with the only comfort of the sweet scent of that new conditioner you found, and the next you’re hopping on a train with a ticket in your hand to go see one of your favorite bands for the first time.
Life is mental guys.
I never meant to go see Taytay live. As much as I respect her work as an artist and incredible performer, it’s still not my jam – the Eras movie was enough for me and I couldn’t bear the idea of stealing a single spot in that stadium from real fans. I saw how hard those tickets were to get. Well. That didn’t age well.
And I have only one person to blame – technically 7 but, yes, them. THEM.
Paramore was announced as guests on the Eras Tour after the whole codes for sale madness occurred and I honestly rethought my whole musical taste for a hot minute. Damn, the Pop karma gods were harsh on this one.
But look. Happens. Just another broken dream to add to the decadent pile of my musical longings and heartbreaks. And it was fine. It was FINE. I had gone through the whole grieving process and made peace with the fact I’d miss those guys again (and again)(and again again) – Til that last minute tickets drop and an insolent amount of luck.
I was kindly reminded by the universe that it’s not over until the show is over and giving up so quickly was truly a rookie move for a seasoned concert goer like me – aka I’m old enough that my back hurt after standing for too long. Thick skull me, and not in the good sense lordy.
Sometimes, you just gotta let it happen. The unexpected that is. And that was just the first of those serendipitous signs that it was actually very much meant to happen after all.
Alright. Enough of shitty introductions, let’s fast forward to the actual point. Kinda. Remember who’s shit you’re reading right now.
Caught the train, listened to Paramore for 3 hours and 23 minutes, jumped off the train, threw my bag in the hotel room and went straight to the stadium. My favorite anxiety deliverer – also known as Twitter (don’t even start Elon) – had warned me about the possible chaos waiting for me to actually get in, and the real possibility of missing the openers like so many did on Friday night. Now see, that’s the kind of thing that makes me feel a bit better about myself. If I was a shit person, the universe probably wouldn’t have missed the irony in this to punish me.
Guess what.
Had time to hit merch and confuse the staff with my “nah just the Paramore stuff thanks”, had time to get half a sunburn (I feel your pain Hayley), had time to get an ice cream. Had time to regret having an ice cream. And finally just walked in like a breeze with not a single person in line in front of me at my door. Not saying I’m a saint but eh, just look at the facts.
Finally sitting down on my seat – which wouldn’t happen again for the whole evening for obvious reasons – and for a split second I got caught in the sweet realization of where I was and what was going to happen yet wondering how could it be even possible… And that’s the exact moment the PA system started blaring Boygenius and I hit that particular ecstasy all music fans know about : I’m where I’m supposed to be. Ha. What a blissful feeling.
Spent the next two hours working on my tan while watching interviews of Taylor on the big screen – which was a weird way to get hyped ngl – and trying really hard to not let my blood pressure skyrocket too soon. Thankfully, all the swifties around were nice distractions to help with that – friendship bracelets awkwardly sitting in between by emo punk bracelets, taking thousands of pictures for total strangers and obviously turning into an annoying preacher to anyone around with my “Have you heard of our lords and saviors, Paramore?” talks.
I managed to sneak in to the far end of my section, craning my whole body over the barrier to make sure I’d be getting a fair view of the side of the stage and soak it all in through my own eyes for the very first time. And while all I could hear was Grandmaster Flash’s voice singing ‘Don’t push me cause I’m close to the edge’ on loop in my mind – music fan brains smh – it happened.
The roar of the crowd.
The instant smirk on my face.
That glimmer in my eyes from seeing those tiny figures walking on the stage at last – also, y’all made me believe that Hayley was three apples tall all these years when she’s clearly one and a half tops.
SHOWTIME.
Ha.
It took me a while to get into Paramore’s music…. you thought I was finally getting on with the show right?
Sorry, not sorry. I love a detour – and the only reason I was late for the party was a very stupid one. One called youth. And lack of fully developed brain cells seemingly.
When I first started hearing about these guys, I was at that ideal age when we could have been a perfect match. Tiny punk arse stepping into young adulthood, still filled with blazing teenage angst and trying to overflow the void of a meaningless existence with music. You probably don’t remember this – you probably weren’t even born lordy – but not long before Paramore released their first album, the Great War happened. The (so not) Great War between Skate punk and Emo punk. You couldn’t listen to both. You couldn’t love both – what utter nonsense. Tis was the law. And I still can’t believe to this day, being now a massive ‘both is good’ advocate on every part of my life, that I fell for that shit. Not much more to say about it other than it was stupid as fuck and be thankful that both sides survived.
My interest in Paramore, labeled as an emo punk band, obviously suffered from the aftermath of my formative years. One more reason why labels suck sometimes, or more like how people react to them. Or people. Yeah. That.
Anyways, Paramore and I kept eyeing each other from across the room for well over a decade before I matured enough to know my past doesn’t define me and finally caved in. And guess what? They welcomed me with open arms, with that very first song I heard of them. A song that I could never have suspected would become so important in my own journey. To the point of getting a massive back tattoo of it just to be extra sure it stays with me forever – Hard times.
And that’s how they opened the show. Sorry about the delay of that long detour, but I needed you to try and grasp what an absolute full circle moment that was for me. It’s never just music. And I’ll keep the rest of it for my therapist.
More than an opening song, they made sure to make it feel like a rocket launch of all my feelings into the bright sky – goodbye forever blood pressure. I hadn’t felt so much joyful peace in a long time. And speaking of bright, the smiles on their faces were mightier than the scorching sun and instantly warmed up the hearts of the whole audience. All the Swifties turning into Paramore fans and supporters for the length of their set – god those fans would never have fallen for the Great War. Not even a song in and I was already feeling overwhelmed by this love, the loudest kind of love. Hayley was right, Swifties are true music fans.
What an amazing audience to have, seriously. I’ve seen many gigs where the main act doesn’t even get half that enthusiasm – Portugal never fails though. We’ve got heart, we’ve got soul and to be fair we get so very little shows that our lungs probably stock up that loudness over time and when it comes out… Ha. Ask Paramore. I think they’ve got an idea of what we can do now.
After their evident surprise on that matter for night 1, Paramore seemed determined to make the most of it and throw us one hell of a partyfor round 2. It was Saturday night after all.
Strolling down the catwalk with full confidence and that commanding energy – or at least they seemed to be. Scared of 60k people? Nah. No need. They won us all over in the first second anyway – Paramore put on their grown up pants to show us they were not here to mess around. Time to burn down the house folks.
I have been OBSESSED about that cover even before it came out. I just knew it would be a perfect match for them, and they would nail it – who’s more cool babies than them honestly?
And they obviously delivered. That song always sends me back to the sweet melancholy of those first early memories of seeing music videos on MTV – when it was still a thing. Brain stop playing Bowling for Soup now. Shush – it’s all blurry, and in the shape of a big gray suit, but it’s also those first moments of wonder discovering a brand new world.
Their touch on that song didn’t send me back to diapers thankfully – but they did bring that childish light of amazement in my eyes. What a cover. WHAT A COVER. And I was obviously so eager to hear it live.
Burning down the house?! Well try the whole neighborhood more like. Hayley’s raspy growls on that one was enough to make half of Lisbon crave a cold shower.
I’ve got a match alright, but you’ve got a freaking flamethrower girl.
Thankfully the rest of the band was there to remind us there was only one thing left to do after embracing that cleansing fire – dance it off on the embers of what was left of our mind blown selves.
Moral of the story, come burn down my house whenever you want Paramore.
If I keep going song by song y’all probably gonna come burn my house alright. I still have a few things to say though.
It was a short set, but it was absolute perfection for me. And if you’re a Paramore fan, yeah it’s big hits that you probably heard live dozens of times but I didn’t. I got to hear all those songs live for the first time – remember that feeling? And, add to that, ALL AT ONCE. Brain gone, mind gone, heart and soul and body A-B-S-O-L-U-T-E-L-Y gone. It was the best. The perfect encapsulation of ‘good things comes to those who wait’.
The Swifties definitely agreed with me on Still Into You and I think we might have broken Hayley with that one minute long standing ovation but to be frank I’m not even sorry, because that was SO deserved. That’s where I like my rockstars anyway. On the floor. Knocked down by happiness. Talk about an emotional moment.
If I wasn’t considered crazy by the Swifites, bouncing around and honestly defying the laws of gravity a few times from that upper stall – that’s fine, Taylor showed up later and it all turned into a nuthouse anyway – I definitely must have been bawling my eyes out at seeing our little indie band so overwhelmed by this outpour of love.
I think we broke Hayley 🥲#LisbonTSTheErasTour pic.twitter.com/YipuWEzH1B
— Jo D. (@rockmycoffee) May 25, 2024
Misery Business slapped my little arse like no songs before. I’m not into spanking but damn I’m willing to change my ways guys. Oh my god it was so good?! Like SO GOOD?! Unbelievable that I was willingly listening to stupid boys in baggy pants singing about their dicks as a 3rd person when this song existed. The freaking energy you can harness from that song live can probably resolve the power crisis I swear.
And all the other songs in between. 50 minutes of utter joy, full on cardio session, soul cleansing and a heart filled to the brim with love and amazement.
There’s one thought that I still need to talk about. Remember when I was babbling about the universe proving me this show was meant to be about 500 scrolls ago?
Well.
Dear Paramore, if you feel like playing ‘Last Hope’ tomorrow night so I can easily justify this last minute trip and its expenses because eh look at that IT WAS MEANT TO BE, feel free. No pressure ofc. (i love u)
— Jo D. (@rockmycoffee) May 24, 2024
There you go.
The odds of getting that song as the surprise song on the set, on that night, on my very first show, and manifesting it? Probably around one in three billions – I know, I’m a dramatic bitch – and yet, it happened. It was indeed meant to be. And I’m a bit at a loss for words about it.
Thank you universe, thank you rock’n’roll gods, thank you Paramore.
I call it my favorite song, and maybe it is, but it would be more accurate to call it my most important song. I’ve whined enough on this post alone about getting into Paramore late in the game but I have that deep conviction that music finds you, and not the other way around. I wasn’t late on anything. I got there exactly when I needed to. When I needed that song.
If you were to make a list of the songs that saved our lives, I’m more than certain that this one will show up in it. Because yes, music saves lives, it’s a fact, and if you’re still reading those lines then you’re my kind of people and you know the therapeutic power a song can hold.
The mere thought that someone you’ve never met, that lives on the other side of the planet, has a completely different life and struggles than you can put words on feelings you couldn’t even comprehend. That’s what makes music truly matters. Because sometimes it’s the only thing you can hold onto, the only thing that carries you, the last beacon in the darkness.
And if you get this, I’m sorry. And if you’re still in that place, keep in mind always that everything passes. It will get better. It will be hell, it will be hard, but it will get better and the light will return. And one day you’ll realize that music helped, of course, it made you stronger and more resilient – but you’re the one that saved your life. Stay strong, on the days you can – time will get you there eventually.
I wouldn’t add Last Hope on my list though, again late in the game – but it’s definitely the song that showed me which way I wanted to go. There’s this very weird phase when you’re just getting out of a depressive episode when you’re not too sure what to do. You fought so hard to get out of that hole you buried yourself in, you kinda have to learn again what life actually is. Last hope found me sitting on the edge of that very cliff and somehow rather than making me look for too long where I came from, it pushed me to enjoy that fleeting joy of being in the now and to look forward to what’s next. A wild hope. Gotta let it happen.
It’s just a song. But it’s not. I’m not sure how long I would have been stuck on my ass if it wasn’t for that one.
I’ll skip word vomiting the numbers of feelings it spurred to hear it live. But yeah, sometimes stars align in the most unexpected way and it makes you grow. It was meant to be. it was 100% meant to be.
The set aptly ended on This Is Why and the more I think about it, the more I believe that’s just the universal answer.
Why do you keep going to gigs? This is Why.
Why do you spend so much money on this shit? This is Why.
Why don’t you do something else with your life? This is Why.
Why are you so happy? This is Why.
This is why everything is worth it. The music, the joy, the love, the acceptance, the sharing, the unexpected. All for those precious moments between you and the ones who get it.
It was my first Paramore show, it was in all ways perfect and made me crave the next one. One that I’d want to share with others, you for example, that got this far. The audience was all sorts of amazing, but I can’t wait to see what literal earthquake a room full of Paramore fans can bring.
I’m still so grateful to have been able to witness this one. The first word that comes to my mind when I think of Paramore is resilience. They went through so much. Battered, broken up, on the verge of giving up… to this night in Lisbon. As an independent band too. What an absolute moment. What an absolute brillant moment.
Ha.
Sometimes you gotta let it happen.
Like this.
Like that warm night in Lisbon.
Like a dream.
Keep hoping, keep dreaming, keep taking care of yourself and keep in mind it’s only over when the show is over – and that’s something you can apply to more than gigs, trust me – because sometimes it’s just meant to be and it will bring you more than you could have wished for.
You can never be sure what the future has in store. It’s a bit exciting, isn’t it?
Shall we go have a look, Paramore?
