I'll read anything by John Hart, Chelsea Cain, Jasper Fforde. I'll see any movie with George Clooney, buy every CD by Keith Urban.
And I'll see Yellowcard every time they come to Cleveland.
I'm lucky enough to be blood-related to Alternative Press Magazine & I discovered Yellowcard in their pages before Ocean Avenue hit. It was love at first drum kick, lust at the first pull of the bow, and it only took one listen of "Only One" to make me a lifetime fan.
The first time I saw them live, I was with my brother. We lost our voices, dripping in sweat from the pit, hands sore from clapping. We were tired and tingling, ears stuffed with lyrics & hearts pounding in our ribcage. We'd jumped with hundreds of strangers, pumped our fists in time, screamed the lines we wanted every ex to hear. On the way out of the pit, I remember my brother draping his arm around me in a hug, saying, "Hell. Yes." We've made it a point to be at every Yellowcard show since, no excuses. We've seen them on our birthdays, outdoors, in snowstorms, acoustic, even when band members were sick, even when we were sick. They leave it on the stage every show, every time. They exude confidence, love, and they give it all, knowing the crowd will give it back ten fold. I've seen them convert doubters first-hand, seen them get a crowd who has never seen them into the biggest, loudest, mosh pit; seen them backflip off speakers, smash three sets of drumsticks in one song, and extend a song by several bars just to hear the crowd sing back.
"You And Me And One Spotlight" made it onto the cd for my brother's wedding; we'll play "With You Around" at mine. My relationship with my brother will forever live inside the lyrics of "Life Of A Salesman" and "Sing For Me" is one of those songs that will reduce me to tears every time. Tonight, I'll share that box with my brother and our friends, and it will have been worth the two year hiatus.
Yellowcard is always worth the wait.