by Anna Walsh
At 8:20 on a May evening in Boston, I arrived to the PUP show at Royale. The concert took place at the same time as Lost Evenings III, but PUP’s album Morbid Stuff drew me away from Frank Turner for just a night.
While opting for PUP wasn’t quite a mistake, it did make for one of the strangest concert experiences I have ever had. At 23, I was among the oldest people in the crowd, a sharp departure from the mostly 30’s and 40’s crowd I had grown used to the last couple nights. When PUP came on, the sea of kids exploded and didn’t slow down until the show was over.
That wasn’t the only surprise of the night. I barely had time to grab a beer before the headliners were on stage, yet 45 minutes later, they were done. I truly thought the show was halfway through when they said their final thank you’s and goodnight’s.
While I’m sure they had good reason for a short set (not uncommon in the punk world), I felt like I had whiplash from the abrupt start and singular pace of the show. Otherwise, PUP did put on an enjoyable performance with tight playing, strong vocals, and banter about the importance of local community.