Kanye West is not punk. Some may refer to him as a punk, but he is not punk. He may have punk values and even punk themes in his music, but he is not punk. His music is not punk. He is an R&B/rap artist, and to the punk scene, he is on the complete opposite end of the music spectrum. You wouldn't even hear his music being played over the speakers at the venue you're spending your evening at while you wait for the show you're at to start. I doubt that he would show up on too many punk kids' Spotify playlists. I haven't avidly listened to Kanye West's music since I stopped using the radio as my primary source of discovering new music. Even when I was a fan of him when I was younger, I was by no means a very dedicated fan. I don't know all of his songs-- in fact, I hardly know any. I know his most popular ones, the ones that made a big mark on pop culture upon release and the ones that got a lot of radio airtime when I was younger.

My girlfriend, on the other hand, loves Kanye West. She's dedicated to emo/punk music as well, but she still has her R&B/pop roots. West and Lady Gaga are still her two all-time favorite artists. So, when an Atlanta date was announced for Kanye West's Saint Pablo Tour, it was my duty as a boyfriend to do what I could to get tickets for us. The differences between a punk show and this show kicked off immediately, as every moment from buying tickets on alienated me from the world I was about to enter myself into.

Tickets for the Philips Arena tour date hit the general public on an early Saturday morning while I was on a plane to Florida, about to go on a cruise for a week. Luckily I believed in the stereotype of big name artists selling out arenas within minutes, because just four minutes after tickets went on sale as the plane's WiFi slowly but surely took me where I needed to go, Ticketmaster had sold out of tickets and they had already begun to go on resale for inflated prices. I bought two tickets in a nosebleed section that added up to $190, a price that made me visibly sigh as I watched half of a paycheck from my former job at Sonic go out the window. Right from this moment, I felt the presence of leaving the punk scene for a brief moment as two major differences had already come about. The first difference was that I had never experienced trying to buy tickets to a show as soon as they went on sale because I was worried that they would sell out, let alone had I ever experienced that being true. Even in buying tickets to see my favorite bands I have a tendency to sit back and wait a while before buying my tickets since I know they likely won't sell out until much closer to doors, nor will the prices skyrocket if I wait too long. The other difference was that I had never spent that much money on a concert ticket. At $95 per ticket, I could have bought myself tickets to three or four shows (if not more) with the same amount of money in the punk scene.

Three months after buying these tickets, the day finally came. Last Monday, September 12th, was the day we had been waiting for. After the hour long trip to the venue, the differences returned. Our seats were the farthest I had ever been from the stage, and I even sat on the balcony for the Future Hearts Tour (which was moved to an indoor seated venue due to "weather concerns" for our Atlanta date) and had a seat for a local radio station's Jingle Jam event. Despite these seated shows, this one put me farther away from the action than ever before, and to be so far away from the action made me believe that the energy in my section from myself and those around me may be drained quickly with a lack of excitement for something we could barely see. We were surrounded by people who were dressed their best, wearing their brand new Yeezy's, hats, watches and nice shirts. This is something you wouldn't likely see at a punk show, as anything you wear in is likely to come out dirty or covered in sweat if not torn up or lost in the pit. I have heard of every article of clothing being lost in the standing rooms of punk shows, but that was not anything to worry about at this show. I had dressed in something similar to what I would have worn to a punk show, but slightly better dressed for the sake of looking my best knowing that I would not be in a situation that would ruin anything that I wore. On top of this, everyone had their cell phones out and ready, something that is dangerous at a punk show where you could easily lose or break your phone if someone bumps into it while you're trying to get that perfect video of your favorite song. With no fear of any collisions in the crowd from our section high above the standing room, any video anyone wanted to get, they easily could. The show that was scheduled to start at 8 P.M. still had not started yet as the night went on, approaching 9 PM.

At 9, the show finally started.

Over the sound system, we heard a booming "If Young Metro don't trust you...", and the rest was cut off by the screaming of the sold out Philips Arena crowd. Kanye West appeared, and the floating stage began to take its effect. Suddenly, there was no such thing as a bad seat in the house as Kanye floated all across the arena, showing the standing room beneath his stage with lights to feature the action below him. From there, similarities began to flood in from the punk scene to the Saint Pablo Tour. The standing room crowd (who must have spent very close to $1 thousand to get there) was going ballistic, bordering on a mosh pit as they all jumped around each other. There was no crowd surfing, no punches thrown, and no two-stepping or picking up change. Just a bunch of people who were jumping around together, making massive crowds of hyped up people screaming and dancing with every bit of their souls. I even watched people fall down, and luckily, those nearby knew the code: if someone falls, pick them up. And much like many punk shows, there is always that one crazy thing that happens. A fan tried to climb his way onto the floating stage using help from his fellow fans to get a boost and did ultimately make his way to the platform's edge, but West noticed him and gave him a glare warning him not to climb the rest of the way. The fan did ultimately let go and drop back down to the floor, being caught by those nearby.

For two hours, Kanye West performed some of his most popular tracks, some of his new tracks, and a few specific throwbacks for those who have stuck around for the long haul with him. He even gave a very empowering speech to the crowd about entrepreneurs and how anything is possible if you set your mind to it. The speech was truly inspiring and felt genuine, something that may come as a shock to those who have a set opinion on Kanye's antics. When the clock struck 11, West was wrapping things up and walked off without a thank you or much of anything. He just triumphantly ended his final song, descended to the floor, and left. The lights came back on, and the sold out arena came back to their own personal realities, whether they were still on Cloud Nine or had already come to realize that the night had ended.

Watching people walk out, hearing the way everyone talked about the show, and how even a casual listener like myself felt, I came to understand just what this show was. It truly was an experience. Even with the fact that I was not one of the people in the crowd who had been waiting for eight years (or longer) to see Kanye, time felt like it flew by way too fast and the night ended way before I was prepared for it to end. For a show that I was preparing to feel so out of my element in, I had a phenomenal time. This was my first show since Warped Tour, and every second of it was truly fun and worth the wait. So a word of advice to all of my punk kids out there who may think they can't go to a seated show or to a show out of their genre: go for it. Take the risk. Even if it's expensive, even if it doesn't seem like something you'll enjoy at all, if you can make it happen, I would recommend it. It'll be a good opportunity to mix up your shows and throw in a strange (but potentially very fun) outlier. It turned out to be one of the most fun shows I went to this year.

And in case you're wondering, my girlfriend had the time of her life and hasn't stopped thanking me since. This night was for her, not for me, and the fact that she ultimately had one of the best nights of her life was what mattered most in the end. It was absolutely worth the money, worth the wait, worth the drive, and worth sitting in the nosebleeds.