This was my first time seeing a band I’ve loved for some time, and it checked every box. We had a great view from the side of the stage where I was never less than a few feet from Steve Pedulla, incessantly melting faces off with the sharp melodies that guarantee Thursday’s poignant songs sink right to the depths of your brain where they’ll stay for the rest of your life. Geoff Rickly was a joy to watch, leading the audience in singing along, jumping around as energetically as the whole pit combined, throwing love upon everyone else involved in this tour, curling up tearfully while singing the all-too-relevant Falling Bomb, and checking in on an audience member who took a crowd surfer to the head. Tim Payne played with the focus of a genius physicist and the stance of a rock icon. Tucker Rule had some technical issues towards the end of the set, yet sounded no less ballistic and intense as on every song before. Every last member of the band seemed to love being where they were in that moment, and I can tell you the crowd felt no different. Thursday is a band of consummate professionals. When you’ve got a band whose songs reduce you to weeping when you’re alone in your room to songs that are painful, raw, and angry, and the whole venue is grinning with wild elation to every song, you’ve got yourself a band of legends.