Attending the Twenty One Pilots Concert: A Dream Come True
How a Band’s Music Became the Soundtrack of My Life and Led to an Unforgettable Night
The story began in 2015 when “Stressed Out” seemed to be playing on a loop on every radio station. Every time I hopped into my car and turned on the radio, there it was again. The catchy tune and relatable lyrics hooked me instantly, but at that point, my curiosity about the band behind the song wasn’t fully sparked.
A few months later, I was preparing for a trip to Sydney and curated a playlist for the journey. It included “Bright” by Echosmith — a clear sign that I wasn’t up-to-date with new music since even that song had been released three years earlier. But as I explored Sydney, I started noticing another song that felt oddly familiar, with a sound reminiscent of “Stressed Out”. Soon, I learned the track was “Ride” by Twenty One Pilots — the same band behind the song I had been unknowingly obsessing over.
Now that I had two of their songs on my radar, curiosity took over. I checked out their album “Blurryface” and decided to give it a proper listen. From the first track, “Heavydirtysoul”, to the haunting closer, “Goner”, I sat through the entire album in one sitting. By the end, I was completely in awe.
Their music didn’t just sound good — it resonated. The upbeat and complex arrangements with a “cheerful” undertone mirrored how my head often felt: chaotic yet vibrant. But as I kept replaying the album, diving deeper into the lyrics, I experienced the biggest “how do you know” moment of my life. It felt like my brain had been taken apart, dissected, and turned into an album.
I’d never felt so “seen” by art before. Their music painted a picture of my inner thoughts and emotions in a way I hadn’t encountered with any other artist. This was more than just enjoying music — it was personal.
From that moment, I became a devoted fan. I delved into their entire discography, from their Self-Titled debut to Trench. Their songs have been a constant companion, carrying me through the ups and downs of adulting. I know their music by heart — every song, every album.
Fast forward to 2024. After being conferred my degree from UTS, I learned that Twenty One Pilots had announced their new album, Clancy, along with a World Tour, with Sydney as one of the stops. My heart sank. By then, I had already returned to Indonesia, and I didn’t know if I’d have a reason to return to Sydney in time for the concert.
Clancy quickly became an album I played nonstop, on an endless loop. I have this crippling habit of obsessively listening to my current favorite song — or in this case, album — on repeat as if nothing else exists. Thankfully, Clancy is a 47-minute album, so most people didn’t notice my obsession, except for my mom, who constantly heard the same songs playing in the house with me. It became the soundtrack to my life, intensifying my anticipation for the chance to see them live.
Having attended four concerts in Sydney during my student years, I had often imagined the possibility of seeing Twenty One Pilots perform there. Each concert I attended in Sydney held its own special place in my heart, from the electrifying atmosphere of live music to the communal energy of the crowd. The thought of adding a Twenty One Pilots show to that list had always been a dream — a bucket-list moment for me as a devoted fan.
Their music had been a constant companion throughout my life, and seeing them live felt like the ultimate culmination of that connection. But now, back in Indonesia, the thought that I might miss this rare opportunity was disheartening. It wasn’t just about attending another concert; it was about experiencing a band that had shaped so much of my identity and growth. The timing seemed cruel, as if the universe had dangled the possibility just out of reach, leaving me to wonder if this was a dream I’d have to defer indefinitely.
But life has its surprises, and sometimes they come when you least expect them. Just a week before their Sydney show, my parents informed me that I needed to return to Sydney to handle the lease termination of our rented apartment. With my sister having completed her studies at Macquarie University, it was time to wrap up all loose ends, including moving out, selling furniture, and ensuring the apartment was ready for its next tenant.
While the task itself seemed daunting, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect — it was a blessing in disguise. The opportunity to return to Sydney not only allowed me to revisit a city that held so many cherished memories but also opened the door to finally see Twenty One Pilots live. What had initially been a logistical trip turned into a chance to fulfill a long-held dream. It felt as though everything had aligned, giving me a second shot at experiencing something I thought I’d missed forever. This twist of fate was a reminder that life often finds unexpected ways to surprise us.
That night, I finally saw Twenty One Pilots live, and it was everything I had imagined and so much more. As the lights dimmed and the first notes filled the air, a wave of emotion washed over me. It was as if every memory, every moment their music had carried me through, came rushing back all at once. Their songs had been my lifeline through some of the most challenging times of my life — guiding me through self-doubt, stress, and the complexities of growing into adulthood.
Hearing those familiar lyrics live, sung by the voices that had resonated so deeply with my struggles and triumphs, was an experience I can hardly put into words. It felt like the band wasn’t just performing but communicating directly with the part of me that has always felt misunderstood. For the first time in my life, I cried at a concert — not just because of the music, but because of the overwhelming connection I felt to it.
Every beat, every lyric was a reflection of the journey I’ve been on. Their music had always made me feel seen, as if someone out there truly understood what was going on in my head. And now, seeing them perform live, I wasn’t just a listener — I was part of something larger, something shared with everyone in that room who had also found solace and strength in their art.
The experience was surreal — a culmination of years of connection to their music, a personal soundtrack that had shaped and supported me through life’s ups and downs. It wasn’t just a concert; it was a profound, cathartic moment of realizing how much their art had impacted my life and how it continues to do so.
Do you have a similar experience? A band or artist whose music has shaped your life and carried you through the years? Let’s share our stories — it’s incredible how art can connect us in the most profound ways.
