2017 has been a good year for a lot of things, so far. Music is one, definitely. Nostalgia is also high up on the list.

Tuesday night at the Bataclan held the fifteenth anniversary tour for Simple Plan's breakout album No Pads, No Helmets... Just Balls.

Wednesday night at the Bataclan saw Good Charlotte returning to the French capital after a hiatus and a six year long absence.

Supporting both bands were young acts that I hope, in fifteen to twenty years, are going to make us as nostalgic as we all were these two days. Imagine us all standing in the same room again, headlined by the likes of these once young bands, fondly remembering that one time we tried to open a moshpit and someone pushed me because they weren't having any of it, so I fell over and cut my hand, or that one time we showed off our terrible, yet glorious dance moves.

Milestones are going up the ladder at break neck speed. With just one EP out (Equal Measures), they have found themselves supporting With Confidence on their UK/Europe tour back in March, but also Mayday Parade across the USA - and now, they're on the road with Simple Plan. Their catchy pop-punk sound is efficient and their lyrics are great for a singalong (which we do when we get back up from the Moshpit Incident). Their music should be working wonders around the continent this summer, and it's easy to see why they're growing as fast as they are. 

(Prior to that, the band performed quite the extensive acoustic set for La Maison Acoustique and sounded lovely. They also are the only Mancunians who don't know the words to Wonderwall. Who knew such a thing was possible)

Mallory Knox aren't exactly new. In the UK, they have no problem selling out venues of the thousand capacity variety, they are set to headline 2000 Trees Festival in a couple of weeks, and their three albums (2013's Signals, 2014's Asymmetry and this year's Wired) have done pretty well and provided the other side of the Channel with a bunch of excellent, polished, straight up alt-rock tunes. On the old continent, though, it's a different story. They have only ever come over as a support act (notably for Finch, One OK Rock or Sleeping With Sirens), or for festivals, and are only just starting to make a name for themselves. In the Bataclan, you can tell that some people know who they are, and that the vast majority of the crowd is enjoying what they're hearing. I can't blame them. What we've all heard that night is of the outstanding kind, for Mallory Knox never fail at delivering brilliant peformances, urgent and precise all at once, with flawless sound and vocals each and every time.

Issues, coming straight from Atlanta, Georgia, aren't exactly newbies either. The band, who was born from the ashes of Woe, Is Me in 2012, have already released two albums (a self-titled in 2014 and Headspace last year). They don't make the trek to Europe often enough to anyone's taste, and their Bataclan appearance in support of Good Charlotte is actually their first time in France. There's nothing wrong you can say about their performance. Every single song is the catchiest little thing ever, and if we tried hard enough, Issues could probably end up in the charts. Frontman Tyler Carter is one of these people in our scene who has a stunning RnB voice and could be a pop star, but has somehow decided to stick to alternative music. Every track is delivered with an impressive perfection and precision, but it doesn't seem to work on the Bataclan crowd - I suppose the sound is just a little too different from Good Charlotte's, and it's not what the audience expect or want tonight. Their music sadly falls on deaf ears, and it's a shame considering how good their performance is. Oh, well. Their loss. I enjoyed my terrible singalong to Never Lose Your Flames and Mad at Myself. I really can't sing.

State Champs might be the youngest band on tonight's bill, but there is no doubt they will have made an impression on the French crowd. From the get go, their fans (and they are aplenty in the room) start bouncing up and down, and open up a moshpit in joyous harmony. (Harmony, though, can't be used to describe the attempts at crowdsurfing - it seems Good Charlotte's crowd aren't happy with people crawling on top of their heads). The words to their sunny pop punk tunes (notably Remedy, Elevated or All You Are Is History) are easily echoed around the room, and if you didn't know, you could almost think they were the headliners. On stage, the band is energetic and jumps about the place, spins around - who's more energetic, the band or the crowd, it's hard to tell. Their music is the closest to Good Charlotte's in sound, and it wouldn't be surprising if they had earned themselves a fair amount of new fans with that tour.

Sleeping With Sirens might have four albums out, and might be one of the biggest names in the scene, and yet, they have never been to France before. I suppose it's now easy to picture the crowd's high level of expectation and excitement when the Americans come on stage - most people have waited for this moment for years. I have an issue with Sleeping With Sirens - I just don't like the vocals. During their forty-something minute set, they play banger after banger, I know more lyrics than I care to admit, and I can objectively say that their songs are very good - I just can't shake off the fact that I don't like the vocals. Each to their own, right? Personal taste aside, the band's performance is solid, and frontman Kellin Quinn's beatboxing of the Mario Bros theme to keep the audience occupied while a technical issue was being resolved was a surprising addition to the set. (I enjoyed it more than I ever thought I would ever enjoy a beatbox version of the Mario Bros theme) I can't deny they are a good band. I suppose I'll just keep on liking the couple of songs I like (If You Can't Hang and Do It Now, Remember It Later), and stay fairly neutral about them.

Simple Plan and Good Charlotte are bands that have made their way into my life at the same time, give or take a couple of months.
I was fifteen when I first heard the Canadians' Welcome to My Life in a car ad on television, and I was sixteen or seventeen when my friend Magali lent me her MP3 player for me to get new tunes. I found Good Charlotte's My Bloody Valentine in there and became hooked. The main point is - I was a teenager, and both bands shaped my formative years, exposing the emo in me to the world. (I don't think the world really needed it, but here we are)

Both tours have an air of nostalgia about them. Simple Plan are celebrating the fifteen year anniversary of their debut album, No Pads, No Helmets... Just Balls, and Good Charlotte are making a comeback after a four year hiatus. During the night, both bands will talk about taking it back to 2002, or 2007, telling us that we have all grown up together - ain't that the truth. Watching such iconic bands with my friends for the first time is special. We share stories. One is definitely going to cry to Perfect because it pulls on their heartstrings. One wants us to have a dance to My Alien for her because it's her favourite song. One has hoped to hear Grow Up live for the past ten, fifteen years. When it comes to Good Charlotte, one is excited to hear The Young and the Hopeless, more than any other song on the setlist. One is going to jam to Girls & Boys like there's no tomorrow. One remembers that I Just Wanna Live is the first song of theirs she's ever heard. All of us have stories related to those bands. They made us who we are, they most likely were our gateway into pop-punk, into alternative music in general, they propelled us into the scene we are a part of.


More than being important parts of who we are, Good Charlotte and Simple Plan are truly great live bands. It's been fifteen years, and Simple Plan still jump about on stage with an unmatched energy. The bands I listen to and watch live that display that much constant energy are very few. When you watch them, you watch a band who very, very obviously wanted to still be on a stage fifteen years after their first record, who probably still want to be on a stage fifteen years from now, if anyone will still have them. They still have the impertinent charm, the banter that made them the household name they are, they are still very true to what made them. They still have a knack at interacting with the crowd, a knack few other bands have - obviously, speaking French helps them greatly in France, and yet it's about more than the language. Getting people with posters on stage for a group picture is a nice, friendly touch, having drummer Chuck Comeau sing the end of a song, then stagedive while frontman Pierre Bouvier plays the drums is another brilliant moment, not hiding why bass player David Desrosiers is not on the tour is honest and very welcome. I have been listening to Simple Plan for twelve years, now, ever since I was a fifteen year old with no direction, no sense of style and no words to express my teenage angst. Catch me at whatever tour the Canadians will surely do in twelve years' time (and, hopefully before that). I'll still be here singing my little heart out.

Good Charlotte tell us they have been a band since 1996. When the date hangs in the air, we all look at each other, wondering what we were all doing back then, back in the day, how old we were. I was a six year old child whose musical world revolved around French boy bands and the Spice Girls, and it's mindblowing to think that in the meantime, somewhere in America, a band who would change my life was jamming their first ever tunes and trying to find their feet. Twenty one years later (gasp!), Good Charlotte are on a stage in Paris, and it seems that after the break, they are here to stay. No one mentions the hiatus, like it's a dirty word, but mostly like it never happened, like Good Charlotte never went anywhere. When you watch them on a stage, nothing has changed. Sure, they don't look the way they used to, they don't look like the pictures I used to see in magazines before I had any way of listening to them. Gone are the eyeliner and the raven black spikes bigger than my hands, but Good Charlotte, at heart, are still the same band. They're still the kids who had nothing, and somehow made it, a real American Dream story this scene doesn't seem to have anymore. It still shows, in a way. There is so much emotion in the way they perform. They are not a band who jumps around and spins until they are dizzy, they don't really tell jokes. They are all about the emotion, even during now alternative club night classic numbers such as The Anthem or Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Somehow, it feels like they still know what it feels like to be the outcast, to be the kid who gets picked last in gym class, to be the kid no one looks twice at. It something that never goes away, something you learn from and, in Good Charlotte's case, something that you turn into something beautiful. Thir live performance is nothing short of utterly beautiful, so heartfelt and real it hurts a little bit. Hold On will always pull on my heartstrings, will always throw me back to times when music was the sole thing I had. I still know what it feels like to be the kid who has nothing, to be the kid who is angsty enough to listen to My Bloody Valentine every Valentine's Day because she feels like no one will ever love her (I didn't know it was a song about murdering someone, sue me, I was sixteen and didn't speak English), to be the kid who had nothing but a couple of records and a whole lot of hope. I'm not anymore. I'm a grown woman who smiles when My Bloody Valentine comes on, who dances to The Anthem with a drink in hand and her best friends in tow, who jellyfishes in a moshpit to Dance Floor Anthem, I'm a grown woman with a lot of records, a lot of feelings, a lot of hope and a lot going on.





Those two nights watching the bands who made me the person I am today, and the bands who give me adventures with my friends were very special times for me. I suppose, every once in a while, the angsty teen I once was has to come out again to meet up with the emotional adult I have become, so they can have a dance together.