Live Review: Twenty One Pilots, E^st

Woah, the queue circles right around the block — along Flinders Street, up Pozier Lane, around the corner into Flinders Lane and then down Russell Street — almost a lap from the entrance! A lot of fans adopt the red rings around your eyes, panda-style makeup look. A girl wanders down the queue to tell everyone the safe word to warn security and those around you about sexual assault or anything that makes you feel uncomfortable: "Nickelback".

The time we spend penguin-walking in the queue before being admitted is 54 minutes. We take our places just before E^st, whose name is emblazoned across the giant screen on the stage's back wall, commences. She bops around enthusiastically up there in her black dungarees, backed by a drummer and keyboard player. The (mostly) underage crowd love Melisa Bester's megaphone that doubles as a spotlight as she directs it out over the crowd. A new song with keys that sound like someone stepping on a range of squeaky toys is a highlight, but Bester could experiment with the dynamics of her voice to increase impact.

The stage is set to red and smokey. Niece plus one in the mosh eavesdrops on what she estimates to be a 13-year-old couple: boyfriend to girlfriend, "At least if we break up we can say we saw Twenty One Pilots together." At the end of each track that's played over the sound system, the crowd squeals thinking the show is starting. House lights dim, smartphones are raised skyward and it's showtime just before 9.15pm. Twenty One Pilots arrive on stage all balaclava'd up and singer Tyler Joseph alternates between using a regular mic and one that's hanging from the ceiling during opener HeavyDirtySoul. The kids sing along with every word, even the rap sections. Polarize is a bit reggae and the floor section bounce their arms, hip hop style. Joseph observes, "We've got a rowdy bunch here tonight." He plays ukulele during We Don't Believe What's On TV (the one that goes "YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!") and then drummer Josh Dun plays trumpet for a bit. Vibrant visuals and multicoloured roaming searchlights elevate the cartoon sound of Lane Boy. After Joseph gets the punters in the stalls to crouch down, all spring into pogoing action as smoke canons detonate and we're transported to a rave. In complete darkness, the drum kit and piano are relocated to different sections of the stage so that when the stage is illuminated once more — surprise! They're both downstage centre for Screen.

There are too many costume changes to count: shirt off, wacky glasses on, beanie off, backwards baseball cap on — Twenty One Pilots are perfect candidates for dress-up fridge magnet sets. Dun executes a backflip off the top of Joseph's piano and the crowd goes wild. Audience singing during Holding On To You is very tuneful — props. A drum kit on a platform is set up to be supported by members of the crowd and then Dun steadies himself up there and smashes away, which sure is impressive. Tear In My Heart is a clear crowd fave and Twenty One Pilots sound a bit like Miike Snow for beginners. "We have one song left unless you say otherwise, you're in charge," Joseph claims. Cue enough screams to demand Twenty One Pilots remain onstage all night.

There's a brief break and then the duo's trademark red stage wash returns, an animated birdcage swings on the back screen and a softer scene is set with Joseph on piano for Goner. But this is only temporary once the song takes flight. The crowd chants, "Thank you! Thank you!" Twenty One Pilots both end up balancing on separate platforms held up by punters down front to play their own private drums (also held in position by crowd members) — lucky the lads are light! More smoke cannons lots of "na-na"s, pogoing and communal underage rager dreams come true.