King of the Emo Teenyboppers

The crowd goes crazy as PATD starts to play.

Last night I shot Panic at the Disco for Rolling Stone. The show was at the Warfield, which is San Francisco’s answer to Webster Hall, I guess. The band is made up of 19 year olds, so the crowd seemed about 98% female, and about 50% accompanied by a parent. To me, it was really interesting to watch the preteen audience, with their carefully made up young faces, tight halter tops and painstakingly ironed hair- such a difference from the punk and skacore shows I went to as a teenybopper at the old El’n’Gee in New London. I remember dragging my mom to a Checkered Cabs show once, not as a chaperone, but so she could see how much fun it was to -ahem- skank. She didn’t dance, though, but seemed content to stand along a wall and gawk at the pink mohawks.

Last night it was also kinda saddening to listen to the trained girlspeak so many teen ladies utilize…

Girl One: “Like, Brendan is sooooo hot! Like totally! I so wanna make out with him!”

Girl Two: “Yeah like totally!”

Girl One: “I wanna like MARRY him!”

Girl Two: “Totally me too like that would be SO AWESOME.”

Girls One and Two (together): “EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeee!”

There were also plenty of other sentiments ecstatically shrieked from the crowd while waiting for Panic to play their set.

“Ashley Simpson is a whore!”

“I love you MTV!”

“Hondas rule!”*

“Mom let go of my arm!”


(*Honda is Panic at the Disco’s corporate sponsor, they play advertisements for their cars to the teens before the show)

Brendan Urie, lead singer of PATD.

Here’s a photo of me at work, Perez Hilton style.

Rolling Stone arranged to have me shoot the band backstage before the show- unfortunately, their beefy security guy Zack wasn’t the friendliest character, and gave me roughly 7 minutes of access. Pretty much the whole time, the band was immersed in deep conversation about body parts of high school girlfriends tasting like fruit and the Spinal Tap reunion. One PATD member wants his next girlfriend to taste like Mango-Apricot.

Teenage ladies, get on that, stat!

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