Panic! At The Disco never seems to disappoint. The band lead by musical genius Brendon Urie set the stage on fire (literally) after their return to St. Louis after two years, and a lot has happened since then. The touring crew is completed by the new bassist Nicole Row and guitarist Mike Naran along with a new violist, cellist and violinist with the touring brass section, not only elevating the sound live but also emphasizing Urie’s range in creativity displaying the rock band’s fluidity. This tour of the newest album, Pray for the Wicked was at least slightly influenced by Urie’s three-month broadway gig as the lead in Kinky Boots and can be seen in the red boots flashing behind Urie singing “Roaring 20’s” onstage. Being the only official member of the band, Urie simply continues to prove his electrifying talent in writing music but also in performing, making every tour nothing less of a party— party where even a host can enjoy himself.
During the five-minute countdown between Panic!’s stage time and the two openers, Betty Who and Two Feet, Urie rose from under the stage. Enterprise was filled with the feel-good anthem “Africa” by Toto, to which the audience of every age, it seemed like, sang to behind the flashlights on their phone lighting up the whole place. The concert began with the string trio starting off “F a Silver Lining” while Urie slowly rose up in his flashy black and gold blazer and once he hit the first word, blue and purple streamers dropped from the ceiling. After that it was it was just a full-blown party that took place on the black illuminati symbol with the famous “!”. Urie didn’t seem to talk to the audience a lot but let the music do that and simply delivered beyond expectations. The nearly two-hour show was filled with Urie’s normal stunts like his backflip after the drum solo in “Miss Jackson,” but also displayed his flawless attempts of fortnight dances, and a riff off between the unmatched guitarist and bassist to which Urie joined in, simply enjoying himself. But something the audience never gets tired of is his flawless voice and vocal range. Throughout the show, Urie embellished each song with phrases that levels up two or more octaves that isn’t featured in the already pumped-up rock album.
The show featured mini bursts of fire during the jazzy “Crazy=Genius” with snippets of the music video in the background. Urie was able to display his talent as a guitarist and a pianist in “This is Gospel” and “Dying in La” respectively (seriously what can this man not do?). About halfway through the 28 song concert, Urie walked through the crowd during “Death of a Bachelor” a segment in the show which his fans have dubbed as the “Death Walk,” where he signs memorabilia and thanks fans for coming out to see him. This was when he branched out to start singing some of softer songs including his rendition of “I Can’t Make You Love Me” by Bonnie Rait and “Dying in La” where Urie elegantly rose up while playing a sparkling white piano and gliding across the stadium.
The biggest highlight of the show, or surprise I should say, was when Urie said that he badly wanted to become friends with Hugh Jackman, and then proceeded to sing “The Greatest Show”—the song that was covered on The Greatest Show Reimagined by Panic!—which undoubtedly described the concert. This was followed by Panic!’s LGBTQ anthem “Girls/Girls/Boys,” for which Urie adorned himself with a rainbow striped album and asked the audience the cover their phone’s flashlights with various colored hearts making the stadium glow, signifying the power of unity. The experience was topped off by confetti that fell from the ceiling. This was followed by “King of the Clouds,” and the stadium filled with white smoke before Urie let the audience sing the chorus of “High Hopes.” A little before the end of the concert, Urie sang his famous rendition of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” and congratulated Rami Malek for a job well done. Urie ended with “Emperor’s New Clothes,” before which he narrated the story of when he posed in front of a mirror, holding cardboard in the shape of a guitar—a moment when he knew that performing is what he wanted to do and then genuinely thanked the audience. It should be us, though, who should be thanking him.
