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Written by Kate Estwing Thursday, 31 August 2006 05:32

This show was a reminder of why I have an appreciation for the indie scream-rock technical boy bands: at every show, the kids go nuts.

Mississippi Nights, St. Louis

This review must be prefaced by stating that the crowd had something to do with my opinion of the performances by Circa Survive and the Receiving End of Sirens. Upon glancing at the fans, I quickly realized the following: (a) you feel old really fast in the music industry, and (b) the metrosexual rocker boy's most prized possession is his hair. And then something else sunk in: it was going to be a good show.

The fans were packed into the standing-room area, and audience participation was at a high. During TREOS' set, seemingly everyone knew all the songs, pumping their fists in the air, hypnotized by the band's thrash-rawk capabilities. Live, TREOS sounded much better than on their recordings-apart from overly nasal lead vocals, the band's performance was tight and energetic. And the merch table was swamped after their set; I could barely get a look at all their swag.

Not as easy on the ears as TREOS, Circa Survive blasted the stage with swirling guitars as lead singer Anthony Green greeted the crowd: "Thanks for coming to our party!" While Green's interaction (read: hand-groping) with the crowd grew stale, it did provide him-the only member not playing an instrument-with something to do. Circa dabbled in electronics—a phone message looped, some guitar effects—but wisely kept their choruses clear.

The strangest part of the evening was not when all the tiny girls chose to bodysurf one after another, but rather when roadies started chucking glow-in-the-dark balloons into the crowd from behind the stage. A cool idea, but it would have worked much better at an outdoor venue; the crowd just wanted to see the show that was almost over. While ever humble, the band's live sound has matured, a direct result of their extensive touring behind 2005's Juturna.

This show was a reminder of why I have an appreciation for the indie scream-rock technical boy bands: at every show, the kids go nuts. And not like hippie dancing or sissy girls crying type of nuts, because I can't stand that crap. No, this is the real deal. Punky mullet hair contests aside, of course.