Live Review: Yellowcard

A seminal band for any pop punk fan, punters gathered at Enmore Theatre for the first of two farewell shows for Floridian act Yellowcard. People are clearly preparing themselves now for a lifetime of Yellowcard merch judging by the insane line — it goes all the way up the stairs and curves into the lounge. People who have managed to escape the line with their desired shirt have already donned them and the mosh view from above is a sea of "YC" logos. Between sets, we're singing along to old school Sum 41, Fall Out Boy and Taking Back Sunday — ahh, we feel at home. 

The house music stops and we receive a cheeky recorded public service announcement from Yellowcard's camp to use the "miracle that is the human eyeball" rather than "an LED rectangle" to watch the band tonight. "Let's fucking rock," the voice commands. YES SIR! The band make a ripper start into Believe — violinist Sean Mackin given the opening honours with that amazing violin line — and the banners reading 1997-2017 really hit us in the feels alongside the thought that this is the last time we'll see these guys live. The mosh is frenzied already and we can tell it's gonna be an epic show. The crowd goes mad for Mackin's solos every time he's at his mic stand, often cheekily poking out his tongue. We don't recognise the drummer, but his beats are tight and we later find out it's support band Like Torches' Jimmy Brunkvist. Frontman Ryan Key looks suave in a denim jacket and black skinny jeans — ironically the same as this scribe's outfit tonight — and his voice sounds better than ever. Why are these guys quitting?! They've still got it! They're amazing! 

It's a night for the hits from across their discography so we hear Lights & Sounds, Way Away, Five Becomes Four, With You Around, Cut Me, Mick, Breathing and more, the crowd pumping their fists like it's 2003 and they're alone in their bedroom after school again. Key properly greets us a handful of songs in and goes on a long-winded explanation that even if we don't know songs off their latest, and last, self-titled record, we should sing along anyway with any lyrics we see fit "so we lose our fucking voices tonight". It's a self-aware acknowledgement that many, if not most, of our crowd tonight are here to relive moments from Ocean Avenue or Lights & Sounds rather than their latest effort, but we're on board.

Mackin is the rock'n'rollest violinist we've ever seen (not that there are many), while Key exudes the qualities of a top-class frontman. Having slipped off his jacket to reveal tatted and toned arms, he now looks like your character on Guitar Hero when you hit Star Power mode. He chugs honey from the bottle between sets, left near the foot of Brunkvist's drum kit. Light Up The Sky gets the full house clapping and moshing, while Sing For Me comes with a touching explanation from Key about the song being written for his late aunt Stephanie. Key is especially talkative tonight, gracefully thanking us countless times and sharing stories about songs, but with tonight being their last ever set and a two-hour one, it's very welcome. Their newest tracks aren't met with as much enthusiasm as the older ones, obviously, but this farewell tour is as much for the YC boys as it is for us and we reckon they deserve to play their final album's songs live. 

The second half of the show is definitely more focused on the older stuff and we can tell the mosh is a hot writhing mess from our bird's eye view in the mezzanine. An acoustic Empty Apartment with Key and Mackin and well, us, because there isn't a resting voice in the house, is absolutely incredible. We sing our lungs out to Only One and Ocean Avenue and they're as emotional as you'd expect, with Key offering a lengthy and heartfelt thank you. "We've gotten to play shows on 6 out of 7 continents on this earth and our minds are fucking blown and our hearts are fucking full," he says, fist on his heart, and all of a sudden it's over. A raucous punk cover of The Sound Of Music's So Long, Farewell literally plays them out. 

Yellowcard, thank you, and we'll miss you. Though you may not grace our stages anymore, rest assured you'll always find a way onto our stereos.