“Nobody Likes the Headlining Band”: A Recap of I Don’t Know How But They Found Me at Starland Ballroom
Photo by NICOLE DIB
We’re kidding about the title: that said, I Don’t Know How But They Found Me (or IDKHow, for convenience’s sake) could have played any of New York City’s small-but-sizable venues. Instead, in what can only be assumed was to appease New Yorkers, Jersey residents (hello), and Philadelphians, he ended up performing at the Starland Ballroom of Sayreville, New Jersey, a venue shaped less like a concert hall and more like an abandoned elementary school in the middle-of-nowhere suburbia.
Despite arriving early to get a good view of the show, there was still a line outside of the venue composed mostly of alt teenagers and stragglers from Dallon Weekes’ (the frontman of the band) old days as a bassist for Panic! At the Disco. Still, their devotion was evident: one audience member styled their makeup with two black glitter dots on their cheeks, the same dots that Weekes donned when first performing with IDKHow. Another girl was dressed in all black, accentuating her dual-toned, freshly dyed orange and blue hair to match the colors of IDKHow’s current touring album, Gloom Division.
Already bonded by being at the same niche alternative artist’s show, the crowd soon became a tight unit. As per Starland custom, they screamed whenever an ad for the 24-hour IHOP would show up on a screen onstage, and formed new traditions. One person held up their phone for the crowd, showing pictures of various other icons from the pop punk world. The crowd would cheer and boo accordingly; Gerard Way and Ryan Ross (beloved emo icons) got cheers, and Brendon Urie and Ryan Seamen (former band members of Weekes, both of which he has a contentious history with) got boos. The instant inside jokes the crowd formed amongst themselves were a good indication of the devoted fanbase that Weekes has been able to cultivate through IDKHow.
With the crowd packed in, the openers began to play. First was Brasko, a solo artist with Max Bemis-styled pop punk vocals and a Harry Styles-esque aesthetic. One song that stood out in particular was “Anna Come Back”, a 60s-inspired power pop number that Brasko belted while prancing the stage in a vinyl jacket and glittery jumpsuit. The second opener was Alex Sucks!, an alternative rock band inspired by indie sleaze revival with a pop flare. While IDKHow may have a song called “No One Likes the Opening Band,” they were able to sufficiently hype up the crowd. Notably, the difference in the openers reflected the eclectic genre-blending–from retro to indie–that IDKHow has become known for.
And then the touring band members come out, and the crowd screams. And then Weekes himself comes out, and the crowd gets louder. From videos on TikTok or Twitter alone, you can tell the kind of performance you’ll get at an IDKHow show, but nothing compares to what you’ll see in real life. What can be noted, first and foremost, is Weekes’ stage presence. He has a commanding persona as a frontman, conductor-like in his control of the crowd through his orchestrated hand waves. His energy is also palpable, as he dances across the stage while singing with the crowd, who know every word to his songs. Alongside this intensity, he has the talent to back it up: he seamlessly switches from dancing and singing with a microphone, to the guitar, and back to bass. Any bassist can tell you the difficulty in singing while playing bass, so seeing how naturally he transitioned from instrument to instrument was impressive.
It wasn’t all serious, though. Weekes’ deadpan, slightly absurd sense of humor, which the audience was in tune with, was sprinkled throughout the show. You first get a taste of his jokes when he starts the show by saying Sayreville was founded by Leo Sayer of “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing” fame (truly an educational experience). During the encore, the previously mentioned “Nobody Likes the Opening Band,” Weekes had the lead singer of Alex Sucks! up onstage, who then played off the song and sang how actually, nobody likes the headlining band. With the audience in on these jokes with the performers, the atmosphere was made more fun.
What is most evident though, was seeing the instant connection Weekes made with the audience through one show. Whether it was instructing us throughout the songs to egging the crowd to cheer louder, the ability Weekes had to engage a crowd was uncanny. Even during the musical interludes, he played into jokes from the fanbase, sing-speaking a thank you to his collaborators– who, he notes– hadn’t stolen a single thing, which got a roar from the crowd. Perhaps it’s due to how long Weekes has been performing in various bands, but his comfortability onstage allowed for these quirks to come out and make the show a special experience.
When you go to an IDKHow show, you don’t just get a set, you get a performance. You get professionalism, you get jokes, and at the end, you drag yourself to a 24/7 diner (the IHOP isn’t 24/7 anymore, don’t listen to the ad at Starland) where you process everything you just saw. While the albums themselves are a great listen, IDKHow is a great band to see live – so great, it was worth the two-hour trip to New Jersey and back.