The stage holds a guy dressed in a pair of the shortest shorts known to American men and screaming into the mic with every ounce of enthusiasm his boyish figure can hold. Alongside of him, the lead singer from City and Colour, sweetly singing background vocals and off stage, on the floor, one of the more relentless circle pits filled with kids, that the band calls their “new kind of army”.

The 5 piece, post hard-core band describes their music as “the sound of two Catholic high-school girls in mid-knife-fight”. This is putting it lightly. I would have said that their music is the exact moment that two vehicles attempting a screeching halt, meet each other, and hot metal and fiberglass become one massive unit, and compromise before being torn from each other and into shreds. And, that I find it quite awesome that the band is diverse enough to make music of this magnitude and on other days, make side project music that makes me want to well up with tears.

Their drums are reckless, their vocals are ear drum bursting, and the guitars are meant to stir up some pent up frustrations and yet, they all seem to work together in some strange harmonious way that makes the twenty something crowd lean into the seat, turn on their iPods and tap their foot. They remain with the indie crowd as well, because their lyrics, screamed or read, still speak on heartbreak and politics. Their shows come with a warning of possible ear bleed, but if you think you’re up to the challenge, may the punks be with you.