1500 HEARTS, ONE BEAT: INSIDE TWENTY ONE PILOTS’ SECRET LA SHOW

Photo Credit: Mason Castillo courtesy of KROQ

Under the neon glow of downtown Los Angeles, the Bellwether buzzed with anticipation on Wednesday, October 22, as KROQ hosted a secretive, invite-only Twenty One Pilots concert. Inside the Bellwether, KROQ hosted a performance that packed the power of an arena into a few hundred square feet. The energy was electric, the crowd was unhinged, and for anyone lucky enough to be there, including high school me —the kid who used to blast “Car Radio” in their bedroom like it was gospel —it felt like something straight out of a dream.

Tickets for this show were distributed solely by personal invitation or through KROQ ticket giveaways. While I was the one standing at the Bellwether that night, it felt like my little die-hard high school self was the one in attendance. I remember standing in line outside the venue, heart racing, surrounded by people who felt the same jittery excitement pulsing through me. After years of watching YouTube clips and singing along in my bedroom, I was finally about to see Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun up close, in a room that held barely a fraction of the crowd they’d play for at an arena. When the lights dimmed and the first notes of “Overcompensate” hit, it didn't feel real. It felt like every emotion I’d ever tied to their music had come rushing to the surface all at once.

Photo Credit: Mason Castillo courtesy of KROQ

The setlist struck a perfect balance between old and new. “Tear in My Heart” and “Trees” delivered pure nostalgia, while “RAWFEAR” and “Drum Show” showcased the band’s evolving sounds. Between songs, Joseph would pause to thank the crowd for their energy and love. The intimate crowd’s roar, paired with the smiles and love radiating from Joseph and Dun’s faces, made it clear the band hadn’t forgotten the appreciation their LA fans have for them. The final song, “Trees,” transformed the small LA venue into a sea of unity, drums, and catharsis. Joseph and Dun climbed onto crowd-supported platforms, pounding their final beats as the audience screamed the closing lines into the air.

This show truly embodied what Emile Durkheim called collective effervescence: the surge of shared emotion that unites individuals into something larger than themselves. As the night continued and the songs were played, strangers screamed side by side, hands raised, eyes bright. For that night, the audience wasn’t just watching a Twenty One Pilots performance; they were part of it. There was a beautiful sense of belonging among everyone with communal release that reminded everyone why live music is so important.

Photo Credit: Mason Castillo courtesy of KROQ

There wasn’t one particular song that the crowd sang louder than others; the crowd sang loudly all night long. From the opening notes to the closing drum beats, the entire Bellwether became a single, thunderous chorus. You could hear the voices of every age blending. There were tiny children shouting lyrics they learned from those around them, teenagers losing themselves in the moment, and grown adults smiling through the words that had helped carry them through earlier days. It was more than singing; it was a shared release, a sound so full and human. Every voice mattered, every person felt seen, and together, Twenty One Pilots created something bigger than the band, bigger than the music. It was a living, breathing harmony of 1500 people moving as one.

This show was truly everything I could’ve ever imagined and more. As the final notes faded, the roar of the crowd lingered, a true living testament to a night where every person, young and old, became part of something far greater than themselves.