Messy memories, MySpace era heartbreak, and a crowd reliving the soundtrack of their adolescence.
By Viktorija Woo
There are certain bands that do not just soundtrack a generation, they freeze moments inside of it. Boys Like Girls is one of those bands.
On May 10, 2026, inside the Moore Theatre, the band did not simply perform a concert. They reopened a chapter of the 2000s that many people in that room never truly let go of.
The crowd made that immediately obvious.
This was not just another legacy act rolling through Seattle for a nostalgia cash grab. You could feel the emotional attachment before the lights even dropped. Much of the crowd arrived carrying the kind of emotional attachment only early 2000s pop rock can create. Messy bedrooms. Burned CDs. MySpace profiles. Screaming lyrics into bedroom mirrors like heartbreak at sixteen was the end of the world.
I was a child when I first heard “The Great Escape.” I remember jumping on my bed screaming every lyric at the top of my lungs without a care in the world. Seeing the band all these years later brought those memories rushing back almost instantly. It did not feel like “OMG Boys Like Girls are touring again!”
It felt more like: nice to see you again.
One of the night’s biggest surprises came when the band pulled out “Heart Heart Heartbreak” from their sophomore album Love Drunk. Not exactly the obvious choice. Most people probably expected “Love Drunk” itself or even “The Great Escape” to kick the night off.
Instead, the moment felt deliberate. A deep cut decision for the people who stayed with the band beyond the radio singles.
And from there, the night only escalated.
Frontman Martin Johnson still carries the charisma that made Boys Like Girls explode in the first place. The band sounded tight, energized, and genuinely locked into the performance instead of simply going through the motions of a reunion era setlist. That matters. Nostalgia can easily become lifeless when artists rely solely on the audience’s emotional attachment to carry the show for them.
Boys Like Girls did not do that.
They performed like a band that still cared.
Seattle, however, remains Seattle.
At some point, this city collectively decided that standing completely still at concerts counts as “having fun,” and honestly, it needs to be studied. From the middle sections to the back of the venue, people stood frozen. Watching. Absorbing. Existing. But moving? Apparently not.
Not even a head nod?
At one point, Martin Johnson himself shouted, “Wake up Seattle,” which honestly felt deserved.
And this is not isolated to this show either. It has become an increasingly noticeable pattern across concerts in the city regardless of genre. The energy often feels visually restrained even when the audience is emotionally engaged.
But vocally, the crowd absolutely delivered.
The loudest moments of the night came during “Hero/Heroine” and, of course, “The Great Escape.” Suddenly the room finally cracked open. Hundreds of voices collided into one giant early 2000s singalong, and for a few minutes, it genuinely felt like time had collapsed in on itself.
That is the power of pop rock at its best.
Despite years of people declaring the genre dead, Boys Like Girls proved otherwise inside the Moore Theatre. Some bands fade into memory. Others become part of it. Boys Like Girls, it was nice seeing you again.
