Five years ago, I declared The Devil Wears Prada as my all-time favorite band. As time went by, and my music taste matured – well, somewhat – I lost the original appreciation I had for that band. I still kept up with everything they were doing, and was super stoked about the release of the Zombie EP, but when I heard they were coming to Memphis with Decoder, Miss May I, and We Came as Romans, I actually had to think about whether or not I wanted to spend the $24 to get in. I am completely satisfied with the choice I made, however. The show was well worth every dollar.
When I arrived (late) at the show and pushed my way through the crowd of sweaty moshers taking an oxygen break outside, I noticed a sign on the door: “Decoder has dropped off this show.” Bum out; I was curious to see their live performance, as they seem to be the next up-and-coming band of the post-hardcore genre. But alas, I obeyed the sign’s further instruction to enjoy the show regardless.
Inside, there’s a band setting up. Which one, I am unsure. So I peered through the crowd of teased hair and layers of eye makeup to find a more tolerable person to ask. I chose a lone guy in khakis and a camo hat, who informs me that Miss May I just played. Bum out #2, but not for long. The entire place seems to be swarming with feedback of their performance. I hear the word “sick” repeated so many times it begins to sound fake, along with comments on how good Levi Benton’s screams sounded. Apparently they opened up an insane circle pit and wall of death as well; judging by the looks of the security guards’ faces, it was quite a brutal experience.
The next band setting up was We Came As Romans. They were polite through technical difficulties, showing only mild forms of irritation. While playing through their four songs (they cut the set short because of the previously stated difficulties), they maintained an energetic performance, but I’m going to go ahead and assume it was not their best show on this tour.
Finally, the moment of all moments: the reason the New Daisy was packed full of sweaty, oxygen-deprived, anxious people from the stage to the merch tables. The lights dim and the band of the night, (theatrically) enters, stage left. Mike Hranica runs to the mic and they begin. “I KNOW A GHOST” are the beginning words; words that the crowd instantly recognizes as “Danger: Wildman.” Aside from that song, they also play the classics: “Dogs Can Grow Beards All Over,” and “Modeify the Pronunciation,” most of the Zombie EP, and ending (or so they thought) on “Born to Lose,” from their upcoming album Dead Throne.
Each song brought a new reel of excitement from the crowd. Hranica showed enthusiasm that kept everyone moving constantly, especially himself. He never stayed in one spot for more than 30 seconds. The keyboardist also never had a dull moment, entertaining (and setting their nerves on edge) the audience in front of him by often balancing his whole self on his keyboards, and stepping beside it to headbang with the rest of the band. The Devil Wears Prada was where it was at.
They did an incredible job keeping things lively and brutal, and the pits forever circling. They even got their Christian message across without being too pushy. All in all, the show would definitely not have been worth the money had it not been for TDWP, which I assume is the reason they are still headlining tours.