I am extremely fortunate to have friends with great music taste. Recently my friend Taylor and her mother visited me at my grandma's and she mentioned a concert that she was interested in. She said I should check out their music and LO AND BEHOLD IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST LISTEN.
So we are officially attending the Twenty One Pilots concert in November :). I could go on and on about all the things I love about their music, the drummer, Josh Dun, can hit the drums astonishingly hard while creating such an incredible combination of sounds to create a gorgeous rhythm. The energy they bring to their music is extremely prominent in their every song and every performance and I am so so so excited to see them live. I made this thing that I like and some other people like it too and this makes me happy:
Scenes taken from "Holding On To You" Music Video
Another thing I absolutely an enamored by is their quirk. They are just so genuinely weird in such a beautiful way that I can't help but love their music that much more. They discuss how joy is different than happiness and that you can still be depressed and experience joy, from a psychological perspective that doesn't really make sense to me based off the meaning of depression, but nonetheless I do think that we can be very sad about something, inescapably temporarily sad, but still experience joy through family and friends while going through a hard time. Also I found this explanation of the band name completely fascinating and just beautiful in a weird way. Taken from the Twenty One Pilots official website.
"Ok so, I (Tyler) was in theatre class and we were studying a play called "All My Sons" written by Arthur Miller in the 40's. It was about a father who ran a company that provided parts for airplanes used in WWII. He then found out that his parts were faulty, so he comes to a moral crossroads:1. He can take the parts back and not send them out, but he will lose a lot of money in a financially tough situation. He would also taint his business and his name and be known as 'unreliable' in his trade. But this would ultimately be the 'right' thing to do. or,2. send the parts out, make the necessary money to provide for his family, not taint his name, etc. He ends up sending the parts out and twenty one pilots died because of it. His son was a pilot in the war who had lost his life. There was no evidence to prove that it was directly related but his daughter blamed her father for her brothers death. He ended up committing suicide at the end of the play. Here's how we make it relevant: I feel like we are all constantly encountering moral crossroads where the decisions that benefit the "now" will have consequences down the road; but the decision that might seem tough and tolling right away will ultimately be more rewarding. What is our purpose for playing music? We are constantly asking ourselves that question. The answer can change all the time, but for right now we are just going to stick with something as simple as 'we want to make people think.'"
I am very excited to see them live and I will be totally prepared to front row this one. Below is another one of my favorite songs of theirs along with the other million I love :)
~~~
We've turned our hands to guns, trade in our thumbs for ammunition,
I must forewarn you, of my disorder, or my condition,
'Cause when the sun sets, it upsets what's left of my invested interest,
Interested in putting my fingers to my head,
The solution is, I see a whole room of these mutant kids,
Fused at the wrist, I simply tell them they should shoot at this,
Simply suggest my chest and this confused music, it's,
Obviously best for them to turn their guns to a fist.
I must forewarn you, of my disorder, or my condition,
'Cause when the sun sets, it upsets what's left of my invested interest,
Interested in putting my fingers to my head,
The solution is, I see a whole room of these mutant kids,
Fused at the wrist, I simply tell them they should shoot at this,
Simply suggest my chest and this confused music, it's,
Obviously best for them to turn their guns to a fist.
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