Once every two years, like perfect clockwork, American pop punk heroes All Time Low find their way to the French capital, bringing with them their terrible jokes, the infamous bras on guitarist Jack Barakat's mic stand and their sweet, summery tunes.
Once every two years, like perfect clockwork, I find my way in a sold out, crowded room just for them. I think, just like You Me At Six, I will complain that I'm over them, but the truth is, I never will be. How could I.

The evening starts with American band Swmrs. They are bringing their grungey, punkey tunes to Paris and it works a treat. People were already screaming their lungs out for the tech guy, twenty minutes before they set foot on stage, mind you, but, you know, they're also in it for the actual music. 

It's hard to believe Swmrs are such a young band. It's a thought that usually pops up in my brain when I see a band whose sound is neat and professional, or who seems vaguely confident, but to be quite honest, Swmrs' professional side knocks them all out of the park. They have so much attitude and confidence it's actually unreal. They know how to interact with a crowd, and it looks so natural you'd think it's in their genes. From start to finish, frontman Cole Becker speaks to the audience in impeccable French, with topics ranging from how much they love France to how we can't let fascism win in the next election the way America did.

As much as I've enjoyed their set and as good as their music is (honestly, Miley and Palm Trees are jams), as much as I've appreciated their natural talent at interacting with the audience and making people participate, there was a little too much "jump, now clap, now sing along" to my liking, and I suppose, as a young band, they haven't found the balance between almost begging for the crowd's attention and grabbing it with your music. It's not a fatal flaw, mind you. They're still really good.
I just don't want to clap four times in the same song before embarking on a singalong and jumping duo.

Half an hour later, it's time for All Time Low.

They are only two months away from giving their new album, Last Young Renegade, away to the world, and they are still promoting 2015's Future Hearts - it's the most songs out of it I've heard live in the same set, and I believe most times I've seen them since its release I have just heard Something's Gotta Give and Kids in the Dark. Both songs will get played, of course. 

During Something's Gotta Give, I find myself perched on someone's shoulders and Jack Barakat waves at me from the stage. 2010 me would have died on the spot. (2017 me smiled like a goon)

The truth is, All Time Low, just like You Me At Six, are one of the first bands I have actually obsessed over. I got a copy of Nothing Personal when I went to London, once, and I would listen to it every morning while getting ready for university. They were the leaders of a generation of bands I knew nothing but quickly learnt everything about, a group of bands that mostly toured America during the summer and they embodied the Warped Tour dream better than anyone else. I also had posters of them in my bedroom and we used to write the lyrics to their songs on the white bits of our Converse. We quoted every word to Straight to DVD like we were honorary members of that goddamn band. They were such a major part of our lives. 

And they always will be.

I'm a grown adult and the cool elite probably thinks I should have moved on to different kinds of music. All Time Low are just there for the teeny boppers and the posters, right? They're just one photoshoot away from whatever replaces Smash Hits in this day and age and the mainstream. Apart from the parents accompanying their offspring, I am probably one of the oldest people in the building. 

And I couldn't fucking care less.

Whether I am on the side of the room, losing my voice to Backseat Serenade or A Love Like War, in the middle, blinking back the tears during Missing You, or desperately trying to open up a moshpit to Dear Maria, Count Me In (but maybe not when I am physically removed from the crowd by an unhappy fan with no gig etiquette whatsoever during Lost in Stereo), I am beaming. I don't know every word to every song, especially not the stuff that is on Future Hearts. I probably wished they played more older tunes, because I'm dying to have a boogie to Coffeeshop Soundtrack or Six Feet Under the Stars again, and I can promise you I wish they'd bring back Remembering Sunday so I could butcher it once more. But I'm having such a great time. And it's all that matters, right?

All Time Low know how to give you a good time. Some of their jokes and tropes get a bit gimmicky with time and I don't know how long they can still get away with penis jokes, but hey, for an hour every know and then, I like to believe they can and it's 2010 all over again and they're the funniest people I have ever heard in my life. They know how to get you involved and they know how to grab your attention and absolutely never let it go. They haven't become the band they are by accident or by chance. They have a thing no one else has.

Me and All Time Low have had a rocky relationship. I almost gave up on them in the past, and then I came back for the nostalgia and realised I could never truly let them go. Every time I see them live, it's the celebration of this gig family I have around, it's the celebration of times when we used to wear Glamour Kills from head to toe and when "I just wanna fuck this burrito" was the funniest string of words ever known to man, it's the celebration of the times when a band has taught me that if something made me happy, even just a little, I should grab it and never let it go.

And considering the big smile on my face from start to finish and the joy I had listening to some of my favourite pop punk anthems, I really, really don't want to let All Time Low go.