Your Band Could Save A Life: How A Gen-Zer’s Fandom For Twenty One Pilots Did Just That (NextGen 2025)

May 19, 2015 may have been a normal sunny day for most Los Angeles residents, but for me it was a day that would change my life. I didn’t know at the time what I was getting into when I won tickets off the radio to see a band I’d only heard on Pandora. I knew their music was special and vaguely understood what they were doing, but until that day, that beautiful Los Angeles day, I had no clue that a two-piece band called Twenty One Pilots were going to help me fulfill my purpose.

It started out as any other regular concert day: excitement while getting ready, listening to their new album in the car and dragging my unknowing mom to some random concert since I was underage and couldn’t go by myself. I arrived at Burbank’s iHeartRadio Theater three hours early; little did I know showing up early is part of the fun. It’s what the “real” fans do. I found my place in line behind two girls decked out in Twenty One Pilots gear, from T-shirts to hats to bracelets, singing along to another fan playing ukelele.

In that moment, I knew I was meant to be there. I spent my time in line talking to other fans and learning what it meant to be a part of the fandom. I made friends in line that day that more than 10 years later I still regularly speak to.

As we entered the venue, the energy inside was spectacular. The fans knew something I had not yet learned: When the show starts every person in the room will sing along word for word and the band will have a stage presence like nothing ever before experienced. They climbed atop their instruments, did back flips off the piano, stood on top of the crowd and involved the audience in every single moment.

The performance left me with an undeniable feeling – I needed to see them again. And see them again I did. Ten years later, I have now seen Twenty One Pilots 38 times. That first night was also the first time I met lead singer Tyler Joseph.

The new fan friends I met in line tipped me off that sometimes the band comes out to meet fans. There was no way I was leaving without trying. After the magic I felt during their show, I HAD to make sure they knew how special it was. I turned to my mom and begged her to let me stick around and try to meet my new favorite band. After 45 minutes of waiting, Tyler walked around the corner. We had formed a line to meet him and I was first. I explained the intense joy I was feeling and mentioned that their music has helped me work through some tough spots in my life. He looked back at me and said, “Stay alive, it’s worth it.” I took those five words and ran with it.

That night started this new band obsession and for good reason. Their music speaks to mental health in ways I had never heard before: openly discussing the depressing elements of life and the anxiety that fuels the darkest nights. While my obsession with what they stood for grew, so did my drive to follow them around the country and see them live as many times as possible. Thirty-eight shows and 14 states later, I just want to watch them and their magical performances again and again.

The best part of so many shows and traveling the country is all the people with the same mindset. Shows are now about going to see friends you only get to see during these glorious shows. The fandom surrounding Twenty One Pilots over the last decade has helped me in so many ways: when I needed a friend or a shoulder to cry on, they were always there. We set up group chats upon group chats with names like “the skeleton crew” discussing all the ways we could up our Twenty One Pilots game. The connecting was easy through Instagram and Twitter. We kept tabs on each other’s lives and made sure everyone knew immediately when new songs or tours were announced. And by making hundreds of connections, I was always able find a place to stay when I traveled across the country. We all joined in trying to score merch together from the official website, sharing hotel rooms and more importantly kept each other alive.

Twenty One Pilots has always openly discussed the struggles of everyday life. The lead singer often depicts depression and anxiety through his compelling lyrics and encourages fans to use those lyrics as motivation to push through the hard times and most importantly reminds us we are not alone. Their music comes across as dark and somber but their live shows are a celebration. To quote Joseph: “When you listen to your songs by yourself it’s our goal for someone to use those songs to get from one place to the next but if you survive, if you make it to the next night, it is also our goal for you to show up to a place like this (their concert) and celebrate with everyone else around you that you made it to another day my friends.”

By the end of this year, I will be at 44 shows. Ten years ago when this all started, I needed it, I needed a reason to live and that reason consistently became, “stay alive until your next Twenty One Pilots show.” Now I attend these shows as a triumph, a victory lap that tells a story about a lonely fan that today has far more than just one reason to push through and keep going every day.

Whether it is your first show, your 50th or somewhere in between, there will always be a place in this fandom, and someone will always be your shoulder to cry on. But most importantly, as every Twenty One Pilots fan will know exactly what I mean, “Here we, here we, here we f**cking go!”