As a third-year Wesleyan student, I am embarrassed to say that on Friday I attended a senior house concert for the first time. Sure, I’d walked through many house parties while live bands were performing, but I’d never really been involved. I was always the kid who was wearing one too many layers to be comfortable, who looked in and realized that he probably wasn’t in the right place for casual conversation.

Last Friday, a perfect storm of circumstances changed everything for the better. First, I realized that I had been slacking on my Argus duties. Second, not one but two of my favorite bands from my younger years were coming to life in the form of Wesleyan student cover bands.

After spending the beginning part of the night relentlessly persuading my friends to come with me, I finally arrived at the house. “Oh, the redhead said you shred cello/And I’m jello baby” emanated through the house as I stepped into the kitchen. Perhaps it was an omen, because I had always felt that Rivers Cuomo had read my mind when he wrote that lyric. I immediately began to reminisce about high school as Weezus played on, remembering the camaraderie I had felt with Cuomo’s dorky lyrics and self-deprecating personality.

That is, until I was greeted by a flying body. As I caught this spectator who was well on his way to butt-plant, I had the brilliant insight that I probably should not enter the dance floor with my heavy flannel on. Just as I finally made my way onto the dance floor, “El Scorcho” finished up and Weezus was off the stage.

Los Strokes’ set began with “You Only Live Once,” but at a tempo that more closely resembled the Haim cover (check it out). As Jaime de Venecia ’15 crooned the first verse, the crowd was relatively tame. After he finished, the band went silent. In retrospect, this was the calm before the storm. Ten seconds of anticipation later, de Venecia came to the mic to make an announcement.

“This is The Strokes, who we believe is the greatest rock band ever,” de Venecia proclaimed.

And in came the guitar. From then on, the concert was a blur. People flew in every direction; shirts came off, and accidents were pervasive. If you wanted to greet a friend five feet across the room, you certainly couldn’t do so by volition, but you wouldn’t have to, as you would give them a very personal greeting five minutes later when your bodies slammed together. Los Strokes and Weezus nailed jam after jam as the die-hards sang every lyric, and the know-nothings danced just as hard. I’m certainly prone to timidity at times, but during this concert I was one of the most flamboyant members of the audience. The vibe was so infectious that it was impossible not to dance.

My favorite part of the night came when they played “Reptilia.” For a brief moment during the chorus, I disengaged myself from the music and looked at my surroundings. The guy on my left, who looked like he was having the time of his life, was singing. The girl on my right, who had been timid for the majority of the night, was singing. My friend, whose favorite artists are Imagine Dragons and Taylor Swift, was singing. Here we were, 40-50 college kids, taking a reprieve from facing one of the most challenging schools in the country, singing along to one of the greatest jams of the 2000s. This, if I have ever seen it, was pure bliss.

After the concert, I stayed in the chaos that is Fountain Avenue on any given Friday and socialized. According to my friends who I spoke to the next day, I was completely dazed for the rest of the night. This concert will be one of the many fond memories I will recall when I look back at my experience at Wesleyan. If you haven’t been to a house concert yet, I highly suggest you go. If it’s anything like last Friday night, you won’t be disappointed.