Finding paradise at paradise rock club

Seeing Boris live was wild. After moving into my dorm freshman year and while visiting different parts in Boston through volunteering, Boris wasn’t great for my tired — and swollen — feet. I already bought my tickets in advance and didn’t want to pass on missing the show. There was a gut instinct that it would be a good concert to see — my first in Boston.

When I started going out to see shows, I knew it would be a habitual activity of mine. I became familiar with my favorite venues back home, making sure to keep tabs on where all the cool bands and solo acts were playing. Concert lineups, the layout of venues for the best in-house spots and the location are some of my personal dealbreakers. 

Starting that process over again on the East Coast took some readjusting, just when I began adjusting to the Kansas City concert nightlife. Regardless, I felt ready to embrace what Boston had to offer. It was an exciting time in my life exploring new places I’ve never been to. 

Boris was set to play Boston on Sep. 3, 2022 at Paradise Rock Club, with the Boston show placed in the middle of multiple tour dates. Philadelphia shoegazers, Nothing, were opening and classes started two days after the show. I knew I had to go. 

Going inside Paradise Rock Club for the first time felt incredible. I was surprised that the venue conveniently sits on Boston University’s campus near the West Campus dormitories and Stuvi II. The walk wasn’t too bad either, though I lived in East Campus at the time, located far from. 

When I entered inside, it was obvious to some that I was a rookie. I took forever scrounging through my pockets just to get through security, slowly pulling up my digital ticket on my phone. I distinctly remember my right hand trembling when I was in the process of pulling out my ID. I was used to paying at the door with cash at more DIY-centered venues, or bringing printed tickets out for venues that didn’t use Ticketmaster. The owners and ticket takers who became familiar with my face already knew I was underage during that time. 

I knew nobody in the chatty crowd and kept to myself at the beginning, feeling slightly intimidated and awkwardly stiff. The atmosphere replicated the same feel as the first day of school, where you had to flaunt and show out a little bit, but my assumption was wrong. I won some people over when a group of freshmen who went to Brandeis approached me because they liked my band shirt. 

I loosened up over time when Boris came on stage, finding it in my heart to incite a moshpit. The middle of the crowd started huddling against each other, setting off a rowdy pushpit filled with intense shoving and pushing. It was barely a moshpit, but you could feel the aftermath of the shoulder nudges after the show. Some of the crowd in the back intentionally pushed others out of the way to crowdsurf and jump off-stage, diving straight into the heads in the crowd. 

I always found it funny that a large sign is plastered on the back wall warning people not to crowd surf, visible for everyone to read. The staff didn’t care. Nobody cared. It’s Boris — of course, people are going to get wild.

Paradise Rock Club is my favorite music venue in Boston. Paradise has its minor issues, such as the oddly stretched-out layout of the venue and the tall, black-painted pillars that block the view of the stage if you end up standing in a bad spot. These are just nitpicks, but the personal memories and unforgettable moments I’ve made there make up for all of that. With its long-standing roots in the Boston area since 1977 and its lineup of legendary headliners that played at Paradise, it’s easy to see why concert-goers flock to the iconic music venue.

Seeing acts from all spectrums of music for a bargain (though ticket prices may vary) is an absolute steal. It’s Christmas every time Paradise posts a show announcement on their social media pages, especially when one of your favorite artists is making a stop there. 

The day Paradise announced Alex G would play two weeks after my euphoric high from Boris, I purchased tickets, and so did my friends. 

The best memory from that show was when some kid tried to stage dive and planted straight face first into the floor at the end of the song “Race.”

There’s more to the story than Boris and Alex G, though. I saw Harm's Way and Show Me The Body for their separate shows, which was even more hectic. 

Each band continuously churned out non-stop moments of violent catharsis. The grown men in the crowd continuously crowd-killed and stage-diving, the headliners and openers playing blaring, aggressive hardcore riffs — so much so that I left the Harms Way show slightly concussed and lost my Fleshwater shirt in the pit. 

Another memory I have is seeing slowcore veterans Duster for around 30 bucks with a friend, which was fantastic and all, but the young high schoolers in the crowd ruined the vibe. 

I also remember covering a show a few months ago when I went on an unofficial tour of Paradise walking around and hanging out behind the venue with Arooj Aftab. I didn’t know how to relate to a bunch of 30-year-old’s — I was just standing there relaxing, mostly hanging out. At that moment, I thought it was humorous that our backdrop was the West Campus dorms. It was almost like Paradise was a second home. 

These are examples of core memories I have had at Paradise — memories so foundational I keep coming back wanting to make more. The friends I’ve brought along with me or made at Paradise have been essential for my Boston experience. Getting to meet new people and see bands live is genuinely thrilling. Walking out of the front doors after a show ends is the best feeling, though some people might disagree. It may be over, but you always walk out with formative moments you shared with good company.