Sacramento made them and the Inland Empire shaped them, but San Diego is where they throw the party — thirty thousand people standing in a baseball stadium screaming lyrics that were written for a bedroom with the lights off. The lineup reads like a playlist you would build to explain yourself to somebody who almost understands: AFI for the theatrics, Converge for the violence, The Neighbourhood for the midnight drive, Jehnny Beth for the art-school intensity, and Ladrones, Lip Critic, Lustsickpuppy and BKTHERULA filling the spaces between with things that refuse to sit in one genre. It is not really a concert. It is a day-long identity confirmation disguised as a festival, held where people normally eat garlic fries and argue about the infield fly rule, and the collision of venue and mood is the entire point. If you know, you know. If you do not, the person beside you will be loud enough to teach you.
Sacramento made them and the Inland Empire shaped them, but San Diego is where they throw the party — thirty thousand people standing in a baseball stadium screaming lyrics that were written for a bedroom with the lights off. The lineup reads like a playlist you would build to explain yourself to somebody who almost understands: AFI for the theatrics, Converge for the violence, The Neighbourhood for the midnight drive, Jehnny Beth for the art-school intensity, and Ladrones, Lip Critic, Lustsickpuppy and BKTHERULA filling the spaces between with things that refuse to sit in one genre. It is not really a concert. It is a day-long identity confirmation disguised as a festival, held where people normally eat garlic fries and argue about the infield fly rule, and the collision of venue and mood is the entire point. If you know, you know. If you do not, the person beside you will be loud enough to teach you.
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Sacramento made them and the Inland Empire shaped them, but San Diego is where they throw the party — thirty thousand people standing in a baseball stadium screaming lyrics that were written for a bedroom with the lights off. The lineup reads like a playlist you would build to explain yourself to somebody who almost understands: AFI for the theatrics, Converge for the violence, The Neighbourhood for the midnight drive, Jehnny Beth for the art-school intensity, and Ladrones, Lip Critic, Lustsickpuppy and BKTHERULA filling the spaces between with things that refuse to sit in one genre. It is not really a concert. It is a day-long identity confirmation disguised as a festival, held where people normally eat garlic fries and argue about the infield fly rule, and the collision of venue and mood is the entire point. If you know, you know. If you do not, the person beside you will be loud enough to teach you.
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