Sketched Stations

The 25th Anniversary of Bleed American. Ouch.

Photos by Justin Bieggar

“We Will Never Bow down To Racist, Sexist Boys”

A call to action by The Linda Lindas references their song of the same name, and introduces Sketched Sounds to the Hollywood Bowl. It was still early here, and those wanting to settle in before the hoards arrived were trickling in. Myself included, who arrived over an hour early to make sure I could grab my press credentials ahead of showtime. Earlier in the day, I got a text informing me that the show had been moved up by about an hour. Of course this gets me rushing from work to lock in, find parking (everyone pays), and get the night started.

“The polls are closed but we still have to stand up for trans people! We still have to stand up for people of color!”, one vocalist exclaims to soft woos and yeahs from the slowly growing crowd. My first thought of course, as one jaded by the average news cycle, is that no one cares about political messaging on a Saturday night. Metallica tried to claim this. Well, they did, successfully, to thunderous applause from fans who forget how to sing along to Disposable Heroes. Of course, this isn’t always the case and I need to occasionally give the human race a little credit.

The Linda Lindas are loud, fast, and a powerful force that stunned that pool of early birds down below. The open stage of the Bowl is a bigger pond for growing fish. They filled it well, taking advantage of the space for punk gymnastics in pro spotlights. Those early birds weren’t ready for this.

And if they brought you on stage right now?

I shared press space near the sound board with two other photographers and the venue’s fixer, who regales us with stories of previous shows. “The sound system was recently upgraded so vocals are so crisp, I paraphrase from her near-identical wording. I’ve only been here once, years ago to see comedian John Mulaney, whose vocals alone were the star of the show. I trust her.

One photographer, Austin of We Write About Music, is all about this next band, The Format. In all honesty, I’ve never heard of them. I’m there for you-know-who and the opener was a big plus. By then the Sun had set and the light show was in full swing. What showmen. Vocalist Nate Reuss thanks Jimmy for bringing them on tour. It was such a treat as both bands are from Arizona, and Nate remembers seeing them in a bowling alley back in the day. We love those stories.

I’m curious because everyone is singing but our little media box is pretty chill.

“Austin”, I start, “If they were to bring you on stage right now..”

“EVERY WORD”, he finishes.

This level of fandom is always heartwarming, right? I can’t claim the same for Jimmy Eat World, so I let my compatriots carry me with them. This emphasizes the warmth of the proper environment. Austin and I relive our formative years over this as we watch the group of friends in front of us. They take no breaks, take no seats. They’re in a dedicated singalong the entire set. It looks like a double date of lifelong friends tightening the bond with yet another group. Another night together. Another night at the Bowl. No one knows the music like these eight people.

May Angels Lead You In

Finally, we have Jimmy Eat World. And we photographers got the first 5 songs, not the usual 3. A gracious offer as the 5th was Bleed American, that guttural title track of their quintessential release. This is the 25th anniversary, after all. We stood in awe, absorbing roars from the 2/3’s of crowd behind us as the lights fired like Star Wars blasters. Call me the only casual fan in the crowd, but I’m still a fan. This powerhouse of a band found me in my formative years. I was in jr high when 9/11 happened, and I probably heard this album 9/12.

“Sweetness” was the video on constant rotation during MTV’s death throes. This is back when you had to wake up early to catch videos. Their format changed hard by then, and we all know the story since. After that came high school, when punk took over. I remember finding Bleed American at Dr. Strange Records around that time and I wondered with young puritanism how that crossed over. Oh, naivety.

This is my third time seeing them. For the casual fan of a stadium-worthy band, I feel like that’s a lot. But their music has always been a part of my life, in one way or another. From pool halls to friend’s cars on long drives. I got to walk to the Fox Theater in Pomona to see them from my, at the time, new apartment. I ran into old friends who were still apparently connected here. It would seem angels led me through, after all.