Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump delivers the pop-punk goods at the Ogden Theatre on Saturday. Photos by Chandra Carney.
Pete Wentz and I seem to have the same problem. We both dress and act like teenagers, even though 30 is slowly creeping up and seeping under our bedroom doors at our parentap houses. He may be married and have a child, but by all accounts nothing in his life has changed much. As he pogo-ed out onto the stage Saturday night to sing a verse with openers , I recognized the man-boy immediately, his short stature, flat-ironed bangs and hoodie/bandana combination all glaring accoutrements accenting his teen-adult persona.
Opening with “Thnks fr th Mmrs,” vocalist Patrick Stump stood still, hiding under the deep bill of his trucker hat as bassist Wentz and guitarist Joe Trohman tossed themselves back and forth across the sprawling stage. Trohman looked to be having the best hair day of his life, his thick curls of shoulder-length brown hair swinging in circles through “Thriller” and “A Little Less 16 Candles, a Little More (Touch Me),” as Pete ran the show from stage left, wiggling and writhing, accidentally throwing himself into Stump mid-song (and promptly apologizing to his band mate at the song’s end.)
During “Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner,” Pete fell to the floor, playing bass on his back while pushing his pelvis into the air in a half-bridge. Everything went dark and a full-band instrument change revealed guitars with LED lights in their bodies, the little beams of brightness moving in waves for the chorus of “I Don’t Care.” Other than this grandiose effect, FOB’s stage show focused on the songs and their interaction with each other and the fans, the intimate venue leaving little room for anything more than a stellar performance.
“Chicago is So Two Years Ago” found The Academy Is…’s lead singer William Becket joining the stage for a quick verse before kissing Pete on the cheek and fleeing the scene. Pete took one of many moments throughout the night to talk directly to the crowd, speaking on love and devotion and the changing focus of his lyrics over the years, leading into “I’m Like a Lawyer with the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You.)”
Stump sang a few lines of a lullaby before drummer Andy Hurley fell in, dropping “This Ain’t a Scene, Itap an Arm’s Race,” the army of audience members screaming along to every word. Songs from each era of FOB’s catalog received this response from the crowd, Stump’s pretty yowl often overtaken by the chanting house.
Bringing out his trademark bass/body spins, Pete twirled back and forth through the FOB classic “Where is Your Boy Tonight?,” eventually finding himself hanging off the large house sound system bolted to the ceiling. FOB’s infamous cover of MJ’s “Beat It” sounded wonderful, and they ended with “I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song,” Pete announcing that the band would skip the drama of an encore and just keep playing.
Stump sang a few lines from the Estelle and Kanye West track “American Boy,” fusing it together with “Sugar We’re Goin’ Down,” Trohman catching a few last epic jumps and hair flips before exploding into “Dance, Dance.” The Christmassy “Yule Shoot Your Eye Out” and “Saturday” finished a well-packaged set, Pete taking a moment to remove his shoes and climb over the barricades to touch the hands and heads lining the stage.
Fall Out Boy’s set was nothing short of awesome, and I deeply appreciated the band’s ability to have as much fun as their audience did. And unlike the performance I witnessed the evening before at the same venue by another Chicago band that shall remain nameless, Fall Out Boy came with the intention to play the songs their fans wanted to hear. If you’re still brushing off FOB as radio-pop for kids, itap time to re-evaluate. Just because Pete straightens his precision-cut scene hair doesn’t mean he can’t write great lyrics. Maybe if Pete and I quit flat-ironing our bangs, people would take us seriously.
Bree Davies plays bass in , writes about her obsessions with Iggy Pop and Lil’ Wayne in and repeatedly fakes her own death at . She is also a self-proclaimed addict.
Chandra Carney is a Denver photographer and contributor to Reverb.
