Before all of the pop-punk kids crawled into every open crevice inside of the Majestic to see an emotional set from the The Front Bottoms, two bands played to a relatively unexcited crowd.

The opener was South Carolina-based Elvis Depressedly. Matt Cothran started this lo-fi trio with his girlfriend back in 2011. If you ever want to hear a song about getting your heart broken, smoking weed, having sex and fucking up, look no further. Elvis Depressedly is the band for you.

Their performance was more than captivating — the music spilled onto the crowd and commanded everyone to sway left and right in unison. I was under a spell that the music gods had casted upon me. I thought dropping out and becoming a groupie was the life for me if it meant that I could listen to this band every night for the next few months. Sadly, their set was cut short and I was brought back to reality. I patiently waited for the next band to take the stage while silently wishing Elvis Depressedly played just one more song. Or two. Or twelve.

Four men then took the stage. These guys, with their full beards and New Balance shoes (not the cool ones, the dad looking ones), were called The Smith Street Band. This Austrailian band traveled across the world for this tour and have the accents to prove it. Frontman Wil Wagner’s voice was especially cute — too bad I could hardly understand what he was shouting throughout the set. But, I have to give this band some props. I mean, when they started to play, they never stopped. Every song fell into the next without missing a beat. The way the band maintained their energy the entire time was impressive to say the least. In comparison to Elvis Depressedly, however, The Smith Street Band’s set dragged. I wouldn’t ask for an encore, but the time was enjoyed as it lasted.

After heavy anticipation, the four total babes that make up The Front Bottoms walked on stage. Amidst the screaming “I love yous,” and effort made by everyone to grab the band’s attention, I felt my skin shed and my inner fangirl emerge.

The stage was set under magenta lights as bubbles started to fill the air. Balloons dropped from the ceiling and it felt as if I was trapped in some candy land I would have imagined when I was 10. I half expected to see Willy Wonka somewhere among the sweaty bodies that surrounded me.

Frontman Brian Sella’s voice sounded amateur, but that’s what made his performance so enticing. It showed that he’s imperfect, just like everyone else. He made interactions with the crowd creating a personal experience and when he sang he closed his eyes. The other members did their part in contributing to the show, but had little emotion and interaction with the crowd. All eyes were on Sella, especially during their hit “Swimming Pool,” when his movements made it seem like he was making sweet love to his guitar. I’m positive that when he sang the lyrics, “And I will be alone probably the rest of my life,” tears started falling from the crowd collectively. They yanked emotions out of everyone that night playing songs like “Maps,” and “Twelve Feet Deep.”

The majority of their set was from their new album, Back on Top. I’m not familiar with it, but I do know that they performed it extremely well. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know the words, the songs still wrecked my heart. They signed off with “Twin Sized Mattress,” and the 17-song set was over leaving everyone wanting more.

I guess now all I can do is spend my time drowning in coffee as I count the days until The Front Bottoms make their way back to the mitten.

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