Something feels just right about Pierce The Veil having the opportunity for a tour like this. It goes without saying that they’ve stuck around longer—and more prevalently—than the other Verb The Nouns of the 2010s, and off the back of a great album in The Jaws Of Life last year, they deserve the grounding. Perhaps it’s a little odd that they’re arriving at an arena tour now, though. Maybe around a decade ago when their brand of post-hardcore was inescapable and Collide With The Sky placed them at the vanguard, but they’ve definitely passed their peak of cultural relevance since. Though, maybe that’s just from an outsider’s perspective; a sold-out Victoria Warehouse implies there are still plenty of Dr Martens boots on the ground, and that Pierce The Veil’s popularity hasn’t waned all that much.
That ultimately feels like a good thing, though. There’s never been the disposability embedded in so many of their era-specific Warped Tour compadres, a fact that really compounds into a sense of gravity here. Pierce The Veil aren’t exactly known for being prolific, or making too many moves on this side of the Atlantic. Ergo, there’s an event feel that buzzes around, tacitly but noticeably. Enough to reinvigorate Pierce The Veil’s reputation and bring them to the forefront of the rock zeitgeist once again? Probably not; both parties have changed too much in the intervening years to feel compatible. But in terms of proving what’s here can reliably survive and thrive in these enormous settings? Absolutely.
First up, though, Holding Absence with very little grace given to just how much of a draw they are. Obviously they’ve far surpassed the ‘opening act’ tag, to where it’s more than a little disheartening that a six-song set is all the room they’re given. They sound like they could be headlining venues like this, not bringing up the rear with a rather thankless slot. Still, if Holding Absence have proven fantastic at anything, it’s making the best of what they’ve got, of which this is another clarion example. It’s no surprise that their blockbuster post-hardcore is scraping the rafters from every angle, and a very forgiving sound system beefs up the rhythm section for even more muscle. And, of course, Lucas Woodland is terrific as a frontman, twirling and kicking across the stage with absolute command of the material at hand. False Dawn soars; A Crooked Melody heaves; and Afterlife puts as fine a point as possible on why Holding Absence have earned every shot they’ve been given.
If anything, putting them as main support just makes more sense. It’s some British representation for the UK leg, and compared to Dayseeker, it’s no contest who’s better. Hell, when Woodland comes back to join them for the acoustic Starving To Be Empty, it’s him who steals the show. That’s because Dayseeker just don’t have a lot of interest going on for them here—it’s serviceable modern metalcore, made all the more so (and no more) by how Rory Rodriguez’s frontman profile is casually ambling around the stage. His calls for the audience to pick the energy up almost seem a little hypocritical, though it’s not like the blank template of this kind of performer allows for much deviation. That’s true of Dayseeker as a whole, who do sound clean and crisp with the odd melodic flourish that’s appreciated, but it tonally runs together with a lot of haste. Between the baddiecore mood lighting of blue and pink and the amorphous, vaguely neon blob of this music, it winds up dragging a little more than preferable with little substantive impact felt. It’s functional without being outright banal, but still further from much to be too enthused by.
At least Pierce The Veil are incredibly quick to wind in any slack. They’re not here to waste time, evidently, when the CO2 plumes and confetti cannons are ready to go on the opener Death Of An Executioner, and Caraphernelia is one hell of a bomb to drop directly after. The vigour and exuberance is hard to miss, not in the least when Jaime Preciado spends every spare moment spin-jumping and ricocheting around his portion of the stage. They feel at home in an environment like this; the production for an arena run is rather sparse, but Pierce The Veil aren’t an act who’d benefit from some wedged-in spectacle. The white drapes they have are enough to accentuate how big this is supposed to feel. Besides, when heartthrob of the 2010s emo generation Vic Fuentes still sparks hysteria whenever he so much as faces forward, that’s probably enough.
Still, as a way of beating the style-over-substance allegations, Pierce The Veil do remarkably well. Outside of the keeping the art of choreographed breakdown alive, there’s a lot of musical density to a set like this, not just from a standpoint of ‘post-hardcore that was better than the others’, but in showcasing how much variety this band’s catalogue does, in fact, hold. Circles is a terrific pop-rock rager, emphasising the hookiness of Pierce The Veil’s best; conversely, there’s the grind and tension sewn into The Jaws Of Life that’s a lot meatier; conversely again, Bulletproof Love’s airing sees one of their canonised hits transposed to tender acoustics and a boyband stool formation. It’s never revolutionary, but it’s also not dull or uninspired. That’s the big thing with Pierce The Veil, and always has been—they’ve got a better understanding of what can make music like this actually grip.
So is it all good, then? No, not quite. They drop a cover of Radiohead’s Karma Police early on that’s really not the one with how slow and drawn-out for that part of the set it is, and the twang and thump of Resilience proves a bit too rickety to be a highlight. It’s a far cry from preened-to-perfection arena pageantry, maybe a self-report of how green in that particular area Pierce The Veil are, but also a bit of a nice change of pace. They feel real as opposed to a product, willing to take some chances in service of showing how good they can be. And as a performance, this is really good. Fuentes’ voice has its sharp, tart power intact; there’s a decent grasp on heavier moments that gives Hell Above its gratifying crunch; and the addition of letlive. drummer Loniel Robinson is such a strong get, when you get the extra dimension of complexity and detail like with the drum solo on Besitos.
Naturally, the fans lap up every second of it. It’s to be expected when Pierce The Veil are from that generation of bands for whom there was no such thing as too dedicated, though you have to imagine seeing them rise the ranks up to this level has to carry some added resonance. Cringe if you like at Fuentes’ assertions of Hold On Till May belonging to the fans who’ve elevated it, but you feel sincerity emanating from it, doubly so when a young fan joins them onstage and is given Fuentes’ own guitar. Maybe you just don’t see how the reverence hits until you’re in the midst of it. What seems like the stereotyped fangirl fodder from the outside is actually a lot more, and Pierce The Veil’s morphing into a credible act of this size and calibre can wash away the negative connotations on its own. Plus, King For A Day is a capital-C closer in its own right, regardless of what anyone will say. Maybe it’s worth summing all this up with the standout line from The Jaws Of Life, that near enough everyone here would probably relate to wholeheartedly—“I’m having the time of my life.”
Words by Luke Nuttall
Photos by Faye Roberts (Instagram)
