It's Halloween and I am getting the big words out.

It's Halloween and I have just attended a moment that will, for sure, leave a mark in the history of British rock music.

I am going to the O2 Arena and tonight we will leave out the technicalities (but still than the absolute babe that is Emily for sorting me out), the awful security and how it took me two hours to get into the venue. No one cares.

The evening started very early (emphasis on very here) with the alt-rockers of Basement, and if there's one technicality that mattered a little bit, it's that the venue should have opened earlier so that Basement could have played in front of actual people. Apart from that, when you take Basement away from small venues and packed festival tents and shove the in an unnatural environment (it's the bloody O2 Arena we're talking about here, guys), you can still count on their humility and sensitivity, and of course on their emotionally intense and genuine performances. The way they delivered every word and every note warmed my heart the way it always does, and standing in the middle of a tiny moshpit with ten to fifteen extremely tall boys all singing along to the beautiful Covet stole my heart the way it always does.

Arguably, Basement deserved a better treatment from the evening, but they're not to blame in any way. They were perfect and sincere, heartfelt and emotional, beautiful and brilliant - but tonight, it seemed like it was a well-kept secret. Don't let it be like this for long. Please.

(I want to address whoever thought it was a reasonable idea to let the screens displaying ads for Bring Me The Horizon's and Enter Shikari's DVDs on during Basement. How disrespectful)

Next up is Don Broco, who are better established in the scene and more used to big ass venues, thanks to a tour supporting pop band 5 Seconds of Summer earlier this year. They're also the only band on the bill who turned up in Halloween costumes (spoiler alert). They opened with the absolute banger that is Everybody, and instantly, everyone is singing and dancing. They don't make it hard to fall for them, Don Broco, and I think we have the reason why they keep rising and rising in the music scene, only closing 2016 by finding themselves on the biggest bill of the autumn (and maybe of the year, who knows). They have a charisma that is undeniable, an energy that is insanely communicative and tunes that have the sneaky power of staying stuck in your head to infinity and beyond. They're on to great things, Don Broco. It was so easy to see - the way they inhabited the arena? They make it look so easy and natural. And maybe that's why it'll become a thing. Because tonight, they looked like they were right where they belonged and I truly believe it wasn't just make believe. They do belong up there, in the big leagues. (With me and my awful dance moves in the crowd, somewhere, of course)

The final support act and special guest of the evening was Enter Shikari. Here to play their final show of 2016 (and potentially their last show until the Take To The Skies anniversary gigs in May 2017), they pretty much set the O2 Arena on fire. They weren't just here to warm up the crowd before the big headliner - they're too special for that, mind you. They were here to show, if there was any need to, that they are a force to be reckoned with in the music scene, and that being a support act in this mighty arena is just a little stop until they headline it themselves. Had they played a little while longer, they could have fooled anyone into believing it was their parade you were attending. Their big screen game was as strong as always and frontman Rou Reynolds was even sporting a dashing glittery suit, and if that doesn't scream big leagues, then what does. There was no time (and maybe no real place?) for raising awareness on important political issues like they always do, but apart from that, it was a real life Enter Shikari show we all witnessed here. And, I'm not going to lie, getting to a point in this world where roughly fifteen to thousand people clap on time to Sorry, You're Not a Winner or shout Anaesthetist's iconic "You fucking spanner" is nothing short of blissful.

And finally, Bring Me The Horizon.

They just made history, didn't they?

Did we have any other band with deathcore roots headlining the O2 Arena of all venues? I don't think so.

And I think it's important it finally happened, and I think it's important it's Bring Me The Horizon who did it first.

But more on that later.

The Sheffield mob opened with one of he leading singles of 2015's That's the Spirit, Happy Song, and instantly, an idea of what's to come for the next hour and a half is thrown at you. The band is standing in front of a gigantic screen broadcasting bits of music videos, lyrics and absolutely stunning visuals. Sooner rather than later, the O2 cannons explode in an ocean of smoke and you just see it there, clear as day - Bring Me The Horizon are reminding you they are a massive band with the capacity of producing absolutely beautiful, impressive, state of the art arena shows.

And they are also showing you they are able to deliver. Everything and its contrary has been said about the English's ability when it comes to live shows and I'm very happy to report that all the naysayers were wrong, oh, so wrong. They can. And they just did. Frontman Oli Sykes' vocal range has suffered from his screaming days, as we all know, but he is still more than capable of delivering his own songs, thank you very much, and he even throws some slightly unexpected screaming in the mix. As always, the rest of the band stands the test of the live performance. Keyboardist, producer and general music wizard Jordan Fish is put under the limelight more often than not and, once again, here is a shout out to anyone who decided drummer Matt Nicholls should be put on top of a giant platform.

(I'm also pleased to report that he is still 

a) One of the best drummers of his generation

b) The most beautiful man on Earth

c) The possible love of my life)

The biggest surprise and one of the highlights of the evening for me was hearing Crucify Me live. I never thought they'd ever play it again, and it was an absolute delight to hear it and sing along to "I am an ocean, I am the sea, there is a world inside of me". It's no secret that 2010's There Is A Hell... is my favourite Bring Me The Horizon album, and yet I never really got to experience any of it live. Crucify Me was the perfect icing on the best damn cake ever.

I will not shock anyone if I say I found myself in a puddle of my own tears during Can You Feel My Heart. I tend to unwillingly forget it and put it at the back of my mind with all the songs that hit home harder than others, and tonight it just came back - how I relate to it hit me like a brick in the face at full speed. I've always been one to deal with anxiety issue, it's been a bit tougher recently, and hearing the story of your life ("I'm scared to get close and I hate being alone, I long for that feeling not to feel at all. The higher I get, the lower I sink. I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim") sang along by twenty thousand people is even more emotional than hearing it in your headphones, by yourself. Obviously, the fireworks that started to rain down on the stage didn't help with the sob fest and I might have even squealed in delight as they started. I am an eight year old child in disguise.

There was the absolutely wonderful and heart destroying Doomed, introduced by a speech by Oli Sykes declaring "I have lost my wife this year, I have lost some friends". It took me a while to realise that "some friends" might refer to Tom Searle and if you're looking for my heart, I threw it in the bin.

There was also something about hearing a song like Antivist live in front of 20000 people and the word "cunt" being written in small building sized letters on a massive screen. I can't quite explain it. It might have something to do with political correctness and me also being a fourteen year old angsty and rebellious teen in disguise.

As the crowd explodes and wreaks havoc one last time to the stunning and heartbreaking Drown (also one of the band's most important songs as it was the one that showed us that, contrary to popular and naysaying belief, Oli Sykes can actually sing, and quite beautifully at that), you can tell it's a triumph. Crowd surfers do their thing and crawl towards the stage to high five their heroes and I share a moment with a dude dressed up as a banana as we sing the lyrics to each other.
And maybe it's the collection of little moments like this that make such big nights a triumph and set them apart from everything else.
The couple happily kissing.
The friends dancing and embracing each other.
The crowd surfer who gets to share a moment with his idol.
The girl with the buns who sings along with a complete stranger dressed up as a banana for Halloween.
The friends who haven't seen each other in a while and still connect as if they had never left each other's side.





I started this saying that I had witnessed rock music history and I stand by it.
I've mentioned this in my Architects post, but there are one too many legendary rock bands that keep saying that rock and roll is dead and that once they're out, there is no one there to replace them.
Well... Maybe there's no one because you've been hoarding the place and you've blatantly refused to acknowledge the bands that are well and truly there?
All these bands have completely ignored Bring Me The Horizon (and, to an extent, Enter Shikari, as it makes no doubt that the St.Albans four piece is going to follow in their footsteps) and the way they have turned themselves into an absolutely massive rock band, tailor made for arenas, stadiums and festival headlines. They have a way of putting feelings into words that can resonate with everyone, they have a knack at writing songs that instantly become anthems of a generation, they have a way of becoming legends without losing tracks of who they were when you discovered them - a bunch of guys from Sheffield who just wanted to have a good time,

So maybe these "legendary" rock bands could now get out of their bubble and take a look around - their reign might be over sooner than they think.


And I think it's an important lesson to see the band who used to be destroyed by naysayers, who went through literal hell and back, who couldn't support anyone without being booed by the crowd be the first ones to reach arena level. I think tonight was an open door to all the ones who will surely follow them closely, an open door to Parkway Drive, to Of Mice & Men (provided that Austin Carlile's health gets to a place where he can achieve it, which I hope with all my heart), to Pierce The Veil, to Architects and to Enter Shikari, a moment to say that it is now possible.

Outsiders can fill up arenas.