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Konsertrecension: Spejsade costuming does not save Twenty One Pilots boredom

The american pop duo Twenty One Pilots (TOP) love to build fantasy worlds. Genombrottsskivan ”Blurryface” was named after a character with the same name, frontman Tyler Joseph's evil doppelganger as a smudge of carbon of people in order to fuel their anxiety. Last year's ”Trench” is about a whole town with the same function, where the nine evil leader of the red hoods attract vulnerable souls. The parables is vast, but has always the same meaning: Sometimes you have to fight against their own uncertainty.

It is at least banal. Instead of depicting mental illness seriously drawn TOP with a tomb självhjälpston. Your inner demons are wrong, whatever they say. You can stand over them. The wound which hintas if not left open, but are filled with antibiotics and sewn again.

a historical critics like it connects världsbygget to the fans in an extraordinary way. The evening at the Globe is filled with cryptic passing game, big and small, that the audience should feel like part of a secret club. Stub clothing, scenes from music videos, symbols and shapes to generate time and time again, deafening howling.

It is beautiful. The whole audience is woven into the feeling of understanding something that goes the rest of the world pass by. Most are in the fragile teenage years, where such affiliation is needed the most. The bond between the duo and their entourage is extremely strong.

With time, however, it is clear that the relentless konceptbyggandet is a form of compensation. For behind all spejsade costuming and internal references hides an inconvenient truth: this is watered-down music. Twenty One Pilots belong to the crowd pop band – Imagine Dragons, Maroon 5, Fun – that sounds like skivbolagskreationer despite the fact that they are not.

the healthy from reggae, rockballad, hip hop, and emo, carrieth away the teeth and mix everything to a jämntjock mass. How much they flirt with the audience it gets to the end of the unspeakably boring.

The newer material shows a possible course to any private, sensitive pop songs that sometimes burn. But when the final ”Trees”, a pale variant of Coldplay, tie up the bag, it is clear that Twenty One Pilots has a long way to go.

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