Dateline: August 4th, 2021. It’s about 10:45 pm in Queens. My friend David and I are moseying around the rotunda at Citi Field, hoping to soak in the last few moments of the night. With my cell phone battery dwindling, I decide to record a quick video.

“David,” I say to the camera. “David. We just saw Green Day. Now what?”

I had been waiting 16 years to say those words. My favorite band in the world, the men whose music raised me- I finally got to see them live for the very first time. If you’ve known me for long enough, you knew that this concert (+ the one immediately following it the next day in Boston) was at the very top of my bucket list. Very few musical acts join them on that list. One of them was crossed off in 2019 (Amanda Palmer), another is happening in October (Florence + The Machine), and some simply haven’t toured in a while (Beirut).

Many bands, in general, had to adjust their touring schedules due to the pandemic. I was originally supposed to see Green Day for the first time on August 15th, 2020 in Pittsburgh. Somewhere around the time I purchased those tickets, I saw a post from another favorite band of mine- The Decemberists- announcing they were also heading on tour that summer. Fantastic. I had just drained my bank account to see Green Day, and now I needed to scrounge up even more cash to ensure I’d see The Decemberists.

Fortunately, cancellations and postponements can sometimes work in your favor. Green Day, Weezer, and Fall Out Boy did the North American leg of their tour in 2021. The Decemberists postponed their tour until this month. I moved out here right after I saw the Hella Mega Tour. If you’re out there doing the math, that lands us right on…

August 4th, 2022. Marymoor Park. It’s showtime.

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Well, this is certainly anticlimactic. What does a car in an open field have to do with a bucket-list band?

If you’ll believe it (because I still can’t), I was the very first car in the parking lot for this show. I somehow snagged the first complementary goodie bag, the first VIP bracelet, and the first “welcome to the show!” from concert staff. Frankly, I thought I was going to be running late. I had already circled the park twice trying to find the parking area. But the moment I pulled into the field, I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t have to worry about missing the show by waiting in long merch or beer lines. I took my time heading to the front entrance, marveling in the beauty that would serve as the stadium for the night’s show. In lieu of endless rows of metal benches or pre-numbered seating, the venue was surrounded instead by towering firs and fresh PNW air.

It began to drizzle slightly as I waited for the pre-concert show to begin. It felt appropriate for this region, and for this show. The Decemberists were formed in 2000 in Portland, OR. What was originally planned to be their 20-year anniversary tour was now a month-long, nationwide excursion titled “Arise From The Bunkers.” Also an appropriate name. The line comes from their song “Sons And Daughters,” which closed out the show during their encore.

My fellow VIP-goers were about as diverse as you’d expect: there were a good number of parents with kids, older folks with lawn chairs and card games, tattooed 20-somethings reading a variety of literature, and at least one group of folks with custom tour shirts (featuring cartoon capybaras). There was none of that youthful raucousness that preceded many other shows I’ve attended in the past- kids shoving through crowded indoor arenas to get better standing room or merch, if you will. The biggest scandal here was watching an older gentleman confuse the front of the line for the back of the line. It happens.

As we waited for the gates to open, I snuck a picture of the band’s sound check. I could hear a few of the songs that I assumed were for the main show- specifically, selections from their album “The Hazards of Love.” There’s no one song in particular I wanted to hear off that album, as many of the themes intertwine across the record. But whatever they chose, I’d be excited no matter what.

The gates opened. In the distance, we were welcomed into the venue with an instrumental, folksy rendition of “Immigrant Song.” I was easily able to secure my spot at the very front and center of the crowd- now feet away from the musicians who were fundamental in shaping my adolescent years.

I’ll be honest, I was so caught up in the moment that I didn’t bother to take many pictures during the pre-show. They played two songs- by audience request- and answered some questions that were submitted ahead of time. Unfortunately, I was unable to get my question in on time, but it didn’t matter. The other questions were much better.

One person actually referenced Green Day, asking if they’ve ever considered setting one of their albums for the stage (American Idiot, the musical). I didn’t think I’d ever hear my favorite band referenced in a Q&A session with a completely different band in a completely different genre, but I reveled in the moment. Lead singer Colin Meloy said that “The Hazards of Love” was created as an attempt at a stage show, but the producer- the same one who put together American Idiot on Broadway- rejected the concept. Meloy decided to release it as an album anyways, and the rest is history.

Another woman presented a question from her doctor. Odd start, but they rolled with it. She told the band that while she was in labor, she had a playlist of The Decemberists playing in the background. She claimed she gave birth during “The Rake’s Song”: here are the lyrics. There was a shock among the crowd. What cruel irony.

Meloy, not to be bested, told this new mother that he had written the song around the time his son was born. He wanted to write something about grappling with parenthood for the first time and dealing with all the emotions that go with it.

His son is very much alive, for those wondering.

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We were allotted some time to shop for merch before being sent out of the venue until gates officially opened. Good thing I had that sweet parking spot from earlier. I still managed to get back in a decent spot in line for the actual show. Sunshine returned to the skies as the lines began to fill up. Parents sat with kids on their laps, reading from Meloy’s “Wildwood Chronicles” series. Older folks brought out snacks and card games to play with linemates. I had changed into my new tour shirt, and propped myself against a metal barricade for a quick rest.

I took pause during that time. It occurred to me that I had manifested this moment over a decade ago. This concert, this once-in-a-lifetime experience, couldn’t possibly be real. It was only something that was supposed to happen in my dreams. Was I actually supposed to experience this in real life? Would the illusion be ruined once I got back in my car?

Part of the illusion was immortalized in an old project I dug up from high school. We were tasked with creating an accurate, cross-country road trip, featuring information about each state and all the costs involved (including gas!). My partner and I set out to create the most expensive trip possible. There were a lot of concerts involved. But I’ll never forget what I had planned once we hypothetically reached the West Coast:

First off, in my mind, I was under the impression that I planned on the Decemberists concert capping off the trip on Day 20 in Seattle. Nevertheless, I knew that if I manifested my intention of seeing the band live through a school project, it would have to come true, right?

My new spot at the start of the show was slightly to the left of center stage. Still front of house, which delighted me to no end. The show opened up with this gentleman, Jake Xerxes Fussell, and his electric guitar. Mr. Fussell, a Georgia native, brought the power of Appalachian folk to the crowds at Marymoor Park. He didn’t attempt to make the tunes sound better; rather, he let the songs flow and speak for themselves. Once he got into his groove, his crooning left a more lasting impression on the chilled-out crowd. I enjoyed his guitar mastery and the simplicity of his set- all I needed was a glass of sweet tea and sweltering Southern heat and I’d feel just right in that moment.

Somehow, throughout his set and in the intermission proceeding it, I managed to keep my spot right at the front. First-time Decemberists concertgoers Tom and Ari flanked me on both sides, debating which of their songs would make the ideal opener/closer. I made my case for “When The War Came” as an opener. I love a good power song to kick things off- even if the rest of the set is softer. Ari had heard some rumblings about “Leslie Anne Levine” kicking things off. That’s the first song off of their first album, Castaways and Cutouts. Tom had a few ideas, but ultimately said that he just wanted to hear them play “Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect” at some point that night.

Turns out, Ari’s rumblings were right.

The concert rolled along, with fan favorites intertwined with softer melodies throughout the evening. I didn’t get to hear “When The War Came,” but I was able to sing along to several other favorites- “The Sporting Life,” “Song For Myla Goldberg,” and “The Crane Wife 3” were among them.

The one song that stuck in my head for days afterwards, though, was the snippet I had heard earlier during sound check. Ari was a massive fan of “The Hazards Of Love.” She had hoped they would play at least one song from that album, maybe “The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)?” Even “Annan Water” would’ve sufficed, and Tom agreed. I had a feeling, though, that they’d incorporate something that spanned as many themes from the album as possible. My guess went to “The Wanting Comes In Waves/Repaid.”

As soon as those first few harpsicord notes rang out, I nearly lost my mind. This was the energy I had been craving. If I sounded hoarse during the Morning News on Monday morning, it was likely because I screamed “this is how I am repaid!” at the top of my lungs… more than a few times. It was euphoric. I can’t speak for the rest of the audience, but I think the feeling was mutual.

During the pre-show, there were a handful of us that attempted to request what Colin Meloy called “the worst song he’s ever written.” It was so bad, Meloy claimed, that he had to stop while he was ahead and never actually finished writing it. Unfortunately for him, that song has become a massive fan favorite after being featured on his live solo album.

That song is called “Dracula’s Daughter.” Please give it a listen. You won’t regret it.

Even though our valiant efforts fell on deaf ears during the pre-show, there were more bodies with great ideas (albeit chaotic) during the actual concert. Another concertgoer behind me shouted the request during a lull, and I joined in. I knew there would be no chance that I’d ever hear this silly little song that the songwriter hates at a live show ever in my lifetime. Might as well get the energy out in the air while I’m five feet away from Colin Meloy.

Lo, and behold: our request was granted. The audience erupted. I may have shed a tear.

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There were two new songs that made their debut during the show, both of which I thoroughly enjoyed. A second fan favorite, “Ben Franklin’s Song,” snuck its way past the censors and riled the crowd during the encore. And of course, as the applause settled, Meloy took to the guitar one last time to kick off “Sons And Daughters.”

Folks, it was magical. In the way that Meloy employs whimsy and mystery into his history-driven lyrics, I felt like I had entered some sort of secret world that I wasn’t supposed to know about. Here I was, front and center to a spectacular sing-along with one of my favorite bands and thousands of others, in a place I thought I could only dream of.

Somehow, all the thoughts I had earlier of “there’s no way this is real” drifted off as I walked back to my car. Much like the end of “Sons And Daughters,” which we were all encouraged to sing together: “here all the bombs, they fade away.”