Last week, the iconic pop-punk band Something Corporate took the stage at the Hollywood Palladium, and what a night it was. Fans of all ages gathered, armed with band t-shirts and angst as they eagerly awaited the band that defined a generation of breakup anthems and loud emo choruses.

As the lights dimmed and the first chords of “Fall” echoed through the venue, it became clear that nostalgia was about to hit like a massive wave. The audience, 90% teenagers in the early 2000s and 10% musicians who would have loved to have that hair, erupted into cheers so loud that the sound guy probably had an anxiety attack. It was clear that this was not just a concert, but a support group for fans who had not moved on from their teenage heartbreaks.

Lead singer Andrew McMahon kicked off the show with his usual charm and wit, proving once again that he could sing about his emotional turmoil and still make you laugh. "I hope you all brought your emotive backstories tonight!" he exclaimed, teasing the crowd. It was a bold statement that seemed to be met with enthusiastic nods. Who wouldn’t want to relive their painful teenage years together in a dimly lit venue?

As the band transitioned into “I Want to Save You,” the crowd was ready to belt out every lyric like they were defending their PhD thesis. There’s something about McMahon’s piano solos that brings out the hypothetical therapist in everyone. People were swaying and shedding unexpected tears, likely thinking about their first love or that summer fling that went disastrously wrong. More than one group of friends looked as if they were actually debating who among them was the rare breed of person who hadn’t dated in high school. “I mean, who can forget about Mark?” one fan yelled, revealing inner turmoil.

In an unexpected twist of events, midway through the show, McMahon decided to take a moment to acknowledge the fan favorites. During a quick banter session, he asked the audience to shout out their favorite songs, testing their loyalty. “I want to hear some love stories! And no, those Netflix documentary-style 'you'll never believe what happened!' tales are not allowed!” The crowd erupted again, tossing out song names like a chaotic game of bingo, each wanting to validate their own turquoise-tinged emotional connections.

As someone shouted "Punk Rock Princess," the band swiftly transitioned back to full-throttle power chords and harmonies. It was here that drummer Brian Ireland decided to paint a picture of what life in a band looks like on the road. Spoiler alert: it involves questionable gas station snacks and occasional fear over forgetting how to play their own songs. “We’ve played these like a thousand times. Yet here I am, worrying I might accidentally start drumming 'Jingle Bells' in the middle of ‘If You C Jordan’!” he joked, earning laughter that rang from the very back of the Palladium.

As the final chords of “I Woke Up in a Car” lingered in the air, Something Corporate wrapped up their performance at the Hollywood Palladium, leaving fans both euphoric. Frontman Andrew McMahon, having poured his soul into every note, took a moment to catch his breath, reminding the audience that no, they did not wake up in that car, or anywhere, for that matter—unless they were in the backseat, which would explain a few things.

The crowd roared as the band executed a spirited encore, clearly relishing the chemistry that can only be cultivated by years spent navigating heartstrings and piano keys. It was a delightful blend of nostalgia and youthful rebellion, punctuated by the occasional stray confetti and a possibly misplaced water bottle thrown by an overzealous fan.

The climax of the evening came when McMahon performed “Konstantine” with such raw emotion that it would have melted any ice queen in the vicinity.

As the final chords of “I Woke Up in a Car” lingered in the air, Something Corporate wrapped up their performance at the Hollywood Palladium, leaving fans both euphoric. Frontman Andrew McMahon, having poured his soul into every note, took a moment to catch his breath, reminding the audience that no, they did not wake up in that car, or anywhere, for that matter—unless they were in the backseat, which would explain a few things.

As the lights dimmed and the echoes of the final song faded away, attendees dispersed, buzzing with the realization that they’d just witnessed a masterclass in early 2000s pop-punk nostalgia. Some left humming melodies, while others contemplated how much it might cost to hire a full-time band for their own shower concerts. One can only hope that the next time Something Corporate graces a stage, we can all be ready—both with our singing voices and perhaps a better understanding of how to navigate life once we actually wake up in that metaphorical car.