Ages ago, we're talking years ago, I started this little series that mostly consisted in me being emotional about albums I loved, and in the light of the ten-year anniversary of one of my absolute favourite records, the game-changing kind, it is time to dig the Album Club from six feet under.
This time last week, I was sitting on my downstairs sofa at about eleven in the evening, watching Tonight Alive frontwoman Jenna McDougall perform acoustic renditions of tracks from the band's debut album What Are You So Scared Of, which was celebrating a decade of life. And it took me back. It's simple, really. It took me back.
The first time I heard Tonight Alive's music was a surprise. They were supporting Young Guns on a small UK tour, and I was attending the Manchester show, thinking the only support was one of the rising stars of British metal at the time, Polar. I remember walking into the Deaf Institute, and it's strange how vivid those memories are, considering I haven't gone back to the venue since, but I remember walking in and past the merch table and seeing Tonight Alive's set up, and thinking I didn't know they'd be playing, and I think my brain said something like "oh, yeah, they're that Australian band. It's cool, I wanted to check them out."
And it's even stranger how, almost a decade down the line, the most vivid memories I have from that night are about Tonight Alive, the one band on the lineup I didn't know. I remember Jenna asking whether people knew Mumford & Sons before the band played their Punk Goes Pop cover of Little Lion Man, and thinking shit, I don't know who Mumford & Sons are! What's a little lion man? And I remember meeting Jenna at merch at the end of the night and, when we were taking a photograph together, Rage Against The Machine's Killing In The Name Of started playing over the venue speakers, and she was so happy to hear that song she squeezed my shoulder.
And maybe it's not that strange that almost a decade down the line, Tonight Alive are the only band from that night that never left me.
People leaving.
There was a concept I was struggling with around this time. You know, in One Tree Hill, Peyton's art piece with the traffic lights and the line "People always leave" inked above it? That was where I was at. And I was desperately waiting for someone to slide the matching one, the second half of the set that said "sometimes they come back" underneath my apartment door. This time in my life was a time of changes I didn't want. I didn't want to leave the safety of university. I didn't want to watch my mum leave me every day. I didn't want to figure out being a grown-up like this. This undoubtedly affected all my friendships. Every single one of them. And, eventually, because being around the depressed girl who's desperately trying to make it out on her own, as if this will give her more value in the future, every one of them fizzled out, and everyone left.
It sounds like such an emo kid cliché, thinking that the only thing I had going for me was music. But it's the truth. The only thing I had going for me was music. Bands broke up every once in a while, sure, but my favourite bands didn't leave me. They stuck around. If I turned up at a venue to watch them play, whether it was in Paris or somewhere stupid in the United Kingdom, they didn't care that I was sad. They only cared that I was here, and they stayed. And I desperately needed things that stayed.
So my love for Tonight Alive stayed. At the Young Guns show, I had bought a copy of one of their EPs, Consider This. And somewhere in my heart, ten years down the line, it still holds the most special place. I was listening to that thing on repeat. And, you know what, I'm not trying to rewrite history. 2012 me did not listen to albums unless I had CDs, and even when they were on my good old iPod, I listened to songs. Not albums. For the longest time, I was the kind of girl that played music on shuffle. And I can't pretend I once listened to Eject, Eject, Eject, the opening track to What Are You So Scared Of? and thought shit, this is life-changing. If I say this album is a collection of songs that changed my life, it's in the wrong order, it's a mess of a collection and an impact bigger than words could ever say.
In September of 2012, Tonight Alive played the Batofar, in Paris, one of these strange little shows during which a local band's album release party was squeezed in the middle because why the hell not. (Because we were trying to capitalise on our complicated relationship with pop-punk.) The venue was not very full, and the "moshpit" was basically just me and two or three of my friends dancing around behind the first few rows. (I have a vivid memory of a girl in heels and a blazer running in, pushing me hard, and leaving, but that's a story for another day, really.) But what I remember the most is the build-up to that show. Because I was listening to What Are You So Scared Of? on loop, albeit in the wrong order, for days and weeks on end, and thinking this is it. This is what I've been looking for. This is what I need.
This is what I want to believe in.
Early-2010s me had a complicated relationship with others, with life, and maybe most importantly with herself. The self-loathing was otherworldly, and I simply believed I would never amount to anything. I had big dreams but no idea where to start. I changed career ideas every other week, from translation to touring with bands. None of these ideas stuck around, maybe because I didn't allow them to, maybe because I was constantly fighting to stay afloat, and that shit gets exhausting, and maybe because they were shot down by the people who didn't believe in me, and those people weren't always me and my subconscious. For the sake of this, let's just say I didn't have the best support system in my early twenties.
And I remember walking in that boat, on a strangely warm day at the end of September 2012, and for an hour or so, I didn't have to fight anymore. I didn't have to be strong, and mature, and resilient, and show how well I could handle everything or take a hit.
I could just be.
Every time I hear Tonight Alive play the title track, What Are You So Scared Of?, I always check in with myself. I think of the things I want to achieve, and I ask myself, very seriously, while I'm dancing and singing along, what the hell are you so scared of? What's stopping you? If you asked the girl on the boat that night, her answer would have been a mile long. If you asked the girl on the orange couch who was watching one of her favourite songs being played on her phone, she would have stopped dead and thought well...I don't know, actually. And it's during one of those moments that I realise how much growth I have made alongside this band. I can't really tell where the line "What are you so scared of / Judgement's not unfair / It's what we've learned to see" took my mind ten years ago, but in 2021, it reminds me that yes, people will talk, and they will judge, and, well, it's a free world, really, but it doesn't have to stop you, and it doesn't have to hinder you, and it doesn't have to hold any sort of weight in the things you want to do and the decisions you make. I don't know if that's what I'm supposed to find in there, and I can't pinpoint when the realisation happened, but I know, for a fact, that it's always a great motivator.
Yes, the world will watch, but it doesn't have to stop you.
What would have stopped me ten years ago doesn't stop me anymore, and even though I don't have receipts and examples, I can promise you, hand on my heart, that this song is one of the many reasons why the things that would have stopped me ten years ago don't stop me anymore.
During the Instagram live stream, Jenna played Sure As Hell, which she said was her favourite song on the album, and explained how she had this feeling it was her future self that had written it for her at the time. And while I don't know much about future selves, I like the idea that, back in the day, Sure As Hell felt like everything I wanted to be. I wanted to get to a point where I could say "I never felt more free / I've never been more true" and "Now I'm finally content" and mean it, mean every word, every syllable, every letter. And maybe, just maybe, it was all a sign. A sign that I would get there. It would take a lot of growing pains, but I would get there. And, ten years later, feeling this, for real, for the most part, it's priceless. I think it's why I feel like I have grown up with Tonight Alive. Because all the words I wanted to believe in, I carried them and used them as catalysts until they came true. Kind of "fake it 'til you make it", except that none of it was fake, and I sure as hell meant all of it.
As explained by the band members on social media these past few days, What Are You So Scared Of is an album that was born in fearlessness, in the unshakeable belief that you should pursue every opportunity that arises. This is an album that was born in youth, in the voices of five teenagers and young adults who had something to say, messages to spread. It's okay not to be in control all the time. Don't waste the time you have. Live in the moment. Love should feel safe. Listen to your heart. Let go. It's okay to acknowledge when someone's presence in your life doesn't work. These are messages born in youth, learned in the experiences that come with growing up, and, very importantly, carried out through most of Tonight Alive's career, in some way, shape, or form. These are messages I have taken with me and still keep in my heart, even when I'm older, even when I'm not a kid fresh out of university anymore, a kid who had a bone to pick with the whole world, even when I'm a girl who knows where she's going, who's starting on the big dreams, who's content with who she is. Maybe especially then.
I would like to say that a record like What Are You So Scared Of and a band like Tonight Alive was my figurative piece of art that reminded me that "sometimes they come back" slipped under my apartment door when I least expected it yet needed it the most, but, ten years later, I have learnt that it is my reminder, or maybe my lesson, that not everyone leaves, and not everything disappears, and the songs you love will always carry you home.
[ To celebrate the ten-year anniversary of the record, Walls Of Sound has written a fantastic piece on What Are You So Scared Of? and how it changed the face of Australian pop-punk. It counts as part of the inspiration behind this post, and it is a fantastic read, and you can check it out HERE. ]