I arrived at Roadrunner, a mid-sized music venue in Allston, at 9:30 p.m. for the Friday night Fisher show that advertised a 9 p.m. start time. Two lines snaked around the long blocks in opposite directions from the main entrance. Our foursome was told that one line was for regular GA tickets while the other was for “quick pass,” an invention that allowed anyone with a ticket and an extra $25 to be in the supposedly shorter line. Morally opposed to waiting in lines, my partner-in-crime for the night and I asked various bouncers where we could pick up our press passes until we were escorted to a VIP entrance at the back of the building. There, we quickly passed through security and received the tickets that would allow us into the second-floor balcony and “VIP room” that housed an uncrowded bar and allegedly cleaner bathrooms.
After grabbing our refreshments for the night, we quickly set off in search of our friends, with the utter lack of cell service becoming increasingly worrisome. Many of my friends did not make it into the venue until 10:30 p.m. despite arriving before 9 p.m., even after purchasing the quick pass. The mix of overly serious yet lethargic security workers and “fratty kids” serially cutting each other in line did not lend itself to a pleasant or quick line experience.
Inside, with the less organized masses, was not much better. Walking down the stairs from the second floor to the first felt like descending into hell. The congregation on the first floor skewed younger, considering the venue was 18+, and was extremely ready to lose its mind to Fisher’s classic crowd-pleasing bangers. Inside the mob, it was hot, sticky, and very, very packed. The crowd swayed, hundreds of pashmina-wearing college students shoving each other to the dull sounds of Fisher’s lengthy opening act.
At the previous night’s show, Fisher didn’t take the stage until 10:30 p.m. For our event, he started performing an hour later at 11:30 p.m. By that time, numerous party-goers were clearly tired and extremely inebriated. Attendees were finding it difficult to stand up straight, and those who weren’t bent over in bathroom stalls had apparently opted to vomit directly into the crowd. According to a Harvard sophomore at the show, one of the girls standing at the barricade “looked like her soul had been ripped from her body.”
As a lover of Fisher’s music, I was overjoyed when he finally came on stage, and the crowd responded raucously along with me. I could feel the collective energy emanating from the horde of jumping wannabe ravers eagerly awaiting the first few notes of Fisher’s iconic “Somebody That I Used To Know” remix. The production and lighting weren’t anything to be marveled at compared to his previous shows, but the video Fisher played on the LED screen behind him the entire night did lend itself well to posting an easily recognizable Instagram story.
Each consecutive song he played felt like a torturous tease rather than exciting foreplay—most of the crowd was waiting to frat flick to his iconic numbers like “Take It Off,” “Atmosphere,” “Losing It,” and “World Hold On,” which he did not play until the last few minutes of his 2-hour long set. But the wait was not for nothing. In fact, “Waiting for Tonight” played around halfway through, inciting plenty of screams and quickly reviving the slumping crowd’s energy. To his credit, Fisher played mostly chart-toppers and classics, surely recognizing what his Boston fans were looking for. Connoisseurs of EDM, however, may have been disappointed by the lack of originality and modernity. The set didn’t feel fresh, but neither was the smell of the Roadrunner pit, so perhaps that was the theme of the night.
It’s uncommon for well-known performers like Fisher to perform at smaller venues like Roadrunner, but despite the crowded space and length of the night, it did seem like the majority of the attendees had a fun time. I, for one, had an entertaining experience the entire time I was there. It felt like all of Boston was in attendance—I ran into friends from Harvard, one or two Independent compers, and even a date I’d ghosted who goes to Berklee. Everyone had found their place at the concert to scream, shout, dance, and blow off steam to escape from the stress that constantly creeps into our college lives. Even the previously serious security workers were up for a laugh by the end of the night.
EDM is music that brings people together, and regardless of the irony of an uncontrollable mosh during Fisher’s song “Crowd Control,” the concert has to be classified as a success. People from all over Boston gathered to celebrate the sounds blasting out from high-tech speakers and share their joy as they lost themselves to the beat. Any night that has good music, chaotic vibes, and dancing through a bass-induced dopamine rush is a great night in my book.
Mia Tavares ’27 (miatavares@college.harvard.edu) almost lost her Indy purple pashmina in the mosh pit.