A mother eagle, dive bombing towards a predator near its eggs. An incredibly stoned college sophomore who has just dropped, and broken, his prized smoking device “Nia Bong”. A crowd of teenage girls at a One Direction concert, back when Zayn was still part of the group. These sounds combined could not match the decibels and pitch of the audible joy released from my burrito hole when a sponsored Facebook post crossed my newsfeed: Catch The Subways at the Troubadour on May 3rd.
Flashbacks of jamming loudly to Young For Eternity and power-walking home drunk as I listened to All Or Nothing ignited that familiar heartbeat I haven’t felt since… well, you get it. I purchased my tickets, recruited a mosh partner in crime to do the same, then attempted to relax my behemoth musical erection as I stepped out for a smoke. Fast forward some time and the day has come: I prepared for a glorious Tuesday night with doses of vodka and friendly conversation with my Lyft driver as we drove up the confusing streets near the Troubadour .
I hadn’t heard of PINS before and I’m grateful I hadn’t. There’s something about experiencing a band perform with virgin eyes and ears that establishes a unique connection to them and their music, and my god did these ladies deflower me good. Each musician had brilliant stage presence, expressing persona through the artistic bashing of each respective instrument. Through angelic harmonies, melodic rock and emotional bursts, it’s safe to say I was dazed by PINS (reference to one of their songs, so I’m totally cool now). As they wrapped up their final jam, the energy of the crowd nested in the atmosphere as we were properly readied for our faces to be rocked off by the headliners.
It was only fitting that the English rockers opened the final set of their North American tour to a Los Angeles crowd with “Kalifornia”. Oh, if words could describe the taste of that first guitar lick. The uncontrollable body motions of the crowd to classics like “Shake! Shake!” and “Oh Yeah” transferred over to newer jams from their self-titled album like “Dirty Muddy Paws” and “Taking All The Blame”. Billy, Josh and Charlotte were nothing short of incredible Tuesday night as they infused hilarious wit, drummer-shaming, and bodacious dance moves to their hard-hitting, infectiously catchy tunes. My personal favorites are “I Want To Hear What You Have Got To Say” and “Girls & Boys”, and it was quite a delight to hear them performed to absolute perfection. Expectations were high, and expectations were more than met.
As the night neared its end, the band decided to forgo the ancient ways of the encore and go straight into their final four songs. And what better way to end a rock show than with multiple stage dives? When jumping off the stage wasn’t enough, Billy climbed his way to the balcony – hurling his sweaty body into the sweaty palms of his sweaty fans. Los Angeles was rocked with bangers and mash (of the musical kind) and concluded the night with an invasion of the stage during their final number, the infamous “Rock & Roll Queen”. Needless to say, we immediately stormed the merch table and I got my shaking hands on a signed copy of their self-titled album. My night may have ended in the warm embrace of Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles, but not even Roscoe’s finest was as sweet as the long awaited return of The Subways to this very same stage years ago.