All Time Low
The Met
858 N Broad St.
Philadelphia
Nov. 21, 2025
It's weird how I feel like I still know the members of All Time Low. When I was a teenager, I got permission from my boarding school to go photograph the band at the Greene Street Club, a 300-person capacity venue in Greensboro, North Carolina. When I got to college, I’d catch the group whenever they came through Philly and Washington DC. It got to the point where they’d spot me after shows, hanging out around the merch table or while they were doing signings, and say “Hey, don’t we know you?” Tonight I did not get that personal of a welcome, most obviously because there were 3,000 more people at this show than there ever were at a typical Greene Street outing, and also because it had been 12 years since I last saw them live. The show is now bigger and the band is more popular than ever, but All Time Low is just as personable talking with the crowd as if we were back in the small venues of a decade-and-a-half ago.
Proof of the author's early fanaticism for All Time Low.
The bandmates all grown up.
This was my first time at The Met here in Philadelphia. It's a 3,200 capacity venue that's typically reserved for big name comedy shows or orchestra music. I wondered how they were going to accompany the typically rowdy crowd that follows the music of All Time Low given that most of the venue is filled with velvet cushioned seats — then I remembered most of us fans are the same age as the band, in our 30s, and I, for one, appreciate the chance to sit my tired joints down. For the more hardcore fans, there’s also a general admission pit that's standing room only, the smallness of which doesn’t stop people from crowd surfing or throwing together a safe moshing pit for those who wish to join. As All Time Low came onto the stage, almost everyone in the venue was up on their feet in front of their folding seats, dancing their hearts out, even putting each other on their shoulders when instructed to by the band during the set.
To warm up the crowd, the “Everyone’s Talking” tour, named for the most recent record release from All Time Low, the band brought out three openers. The Paradox was up first. I was excited to see them; a few months ago, I heard one of their songs on the radio and immediately ‘Shazzamed’ it, loving their sound but feeling unfamiliar with what I was hearing. Their music is reminiscent of the early pop punk that brought me into the scene 20 years ago. The Paradox is unique not only for their nostalgic pop punk sound, but because they are made up of four African American men, which is unfortunately a rare sight in the scene. They pulled off the low-slung instruments and raunchy banter as easily as I imagine Blink-182 did back in their youth. Only five years out of high school, these young men have a bright future ahead of them.
Next up was Four Year Strong. I had heard of this band before, but couldn’t recall if I had really listened to them before. Once they started their set I knew why. While clearly beloved by many in the crowd, their sound was much harder than my pop leaning ears gravitate towards. Their sound leans closer to ‘screamo,” within the emo pop punk sphere. Their on-stage energy was nonetheless enjoyable to watch.
The final opener was a band I have followed in my past and seen perform live, probably on tour with All Time Low based on my dive into the archives of tour line-ups past. Mayday Parade brought out all the nostalgia, even making a few tears fall down my face from the true joy of hearing some songs that I, regretfully, hadn’t listened to in maybe a decade. The lyrics came back into my mind instantly as I sung (read: yelled) them alongside everyone else in the massive venue.
The band reveled on stage about how long they’ve been a band — 20 years this year — and it was evident that they had matured together, not only in sound but in life. Touring has become a family affair for the group, with guitarist Brooks Betts now having his partner and their two young children cheering the band on from inside the photo pit.
The time finally came for All Time Low to grace the thousands who had come to see them. It was clear from the start that the band in front of me was different from the band I had seen years ago; they were no longer boys in a van traveling from city to city with a U-Haul attached to the back of their nine-person van. They were now a bonafide full production, with a stage scene complete with color-coordinated props linking the tour to their 10th studio album Everyone’s Talking, a fully choreographed lighting display, and a giant, blow-up screen behind them programed to show off lyrics and graphics for each of their songs and interludes, tying the whole spectacle together.
The band’s voices have also developed; their vocals are better trained and their riffs go harder, but they’re still the same silly boys they’ve always been. It was abundantly clear from their on-stage banter, coming mostly from the classic extroverts of the band — lead singer Alex Gaskarth and lead guitarist Jack Barakat — that they were all on the same page and still best friends. Each of the members dressed in a color corresponding with one of the new albums main hues: red, green, yellow, and blue. Jack told the crowd that he chose green because of the Eagles, to which Alex audibly rolled his eyes: “You pandering little fucker” he said with a laugh, as the crowd let our their first “E-A-G-L-E-S, EAGLES!” chant of the night. “Every time we come through Philadelphia we can expect at least two things,” Alex said to the crowd during a song break: “One, that there will be a mosh pit that forms. And two, that a tiny plastic fetus will be thrown on stage. Every show we have ever played in Philadelphia over the years, someone throws this tiny fetus on stage… Consistency, well done, we love it.”
There was no further explanation concerning the fetus situation.
On their new album, All Time Low is playing around with their sound, leaning more into a skater punk genre for a song or two and then going back to their root influences of Blink-182 and Fall Out Boy, but still making it fresh and new. You gotta mix it up after 10 albums to find fresh sonic ideas, but the group always return to their catchy hooks, singable lyrics, strong bass lines, and drum rhythms.
Before their traditional last song, “Dear Maria,” the crowd broke out into a chant as “Jersey, Jersey, Jersey” echoed through the whole venue. Like the crowd-pleasers they are, All Time Low succumbed to their fans and happily obliged, straying from their almost completed 24-song set list, to perform “Jersey Rae,” a beloved track from their 2006 EP Put Up or Shut Up. Before playing that penultimate song, Zach Merrick, the bassist, exemplified the band’s true nature, catching a t-shirt from the crowd as well as a marker to sign it, having his own quiet conversation with the fan and agreeing to get the rest of the group to autograph the shirt as well. It was a small, heartwarming moment that I’m not sure many people noticed. But it transported me and my love for the band back to that small club in North Carolina almost 19 years ago, when I caught a crush on a friendly crew of guys that loved nothing more than interacting with and meeting the people that supported their music. I can promise it won’t be another decade before I see this band again.
