All-American Rejects @ a bowling alley
The pop-punk icons visited Memory Lanes on their pop-up tour.
Sometimes you’re standing on one of those wobbly swivel chairs in a bowling alley next to half-eaten nachos watching people bowl while All-American Rejects play the songs that dominated mainstream music in the aughts, and you’re kind of bored—and you can’t explain why. You want to feel euphoria while the cathartic songs with sugar-sweet hooks are playing, but the rush doesn’t hit. You’re a little distracted by the large screens playing hockey, Family Feud, and bowling animations overhead. Know what I mean? That was me last Friday night.
My trip to Memory Lanes in Minneapolis’ Seward neighborhood to see All-American Rejects was born out of sheer curiosity—not a strong longing for nostalgia. Sure, I heard the hits on the Top 40 radio stations as a kid, but I never went to a show, owned a CD, or bought merch. I’ve never hit play to listen to an album front-to-back.
The hits with hundreds of millions of Spotify streams are pretty epic though. Can’t you hear this verse from “Dirty Little Secret” in your head: When we live such fragile lives / It's the best way we survive / I go around a time or two / Just to waste my time with you”? The band’s songs were angsty anthems for those growing up in the aughts.
All that to say, when my coworker got a tip from a friend that All-American Rejects were going to play a house show in the Powderhorn neighborhood, I was confused—then excited. How the hell was this band playing at a house?
Turns out the band has been doing pop-ups around the country to promote upcoming music, and their Minneapolis stop happened in collaboration with TCUP: Twin Cities United Performers. The group of musicians and performers doing grassroots work to support labor rights announced a pop-up show earlier in the week that would include local band SoulFlower, with a to-be-announced act. Fast forward to the Friday, the headliner news came out, rainy weather caused plans to shift, and the location switched to Memory Lanes.
I talked to TCUP member and event organizer Laura Kiernan from the band Kiernan, and she told me the organization’s connection came from Nadi McGill (leader of TCUP and drummer in Gully Boys) who knew All-American-Rejects’ manager. The event was free, with a $5 or $10 donation to TCUP recommended.
I felt numb?
Maybe it’s the fact that I didn’t have a poster of lead singer and bassist Tyson Ritter hanging in my childhood bedroom that I didn’t get the feeling of, “Oh my god, that’s them! That’s Tyson!” Some guys just stepped on the stage elevated a few inches over the bowling lanes, jumped into the punchy opening chords of “Dirty Little Secret,” and phones serged overhead to record. If someone who wasn’t familiar with the band members’ faces randomly walked in the building, they may have assumed a cover band was playing.
The show’s physical context may have been what threw me off the most. Seeing a band of All-American Rejects’ history and status in such a small venue is a unique experience—so unique that it felt unreal. And not unreal in a euphoric feeling type of way, but a “Where am I? What am I watching?” kind of way.
Some people crowded around bowling ball return machines while others stood on chairs in random locations throughout the floor. Overhead lights in the back of the venue remained on. Turn toward your left and see the front door where fans huddle to see from behind in the glass. Walk out the door and you’re in a quiet neighborhood with an appliance store and dive bar.
Hearing some of the most easily recognizable post-2000 songs in an arena would feel fitting. Climbing up a few stairs to find your seats and being surrounded by 10,000+ people singing every word as lights flash would feel right. That scenario seems like the real deal. At an older bowling alley without metal detectors or ticket scanners… not so much. It was as if my brain glitched and I couldn’t put two and two together:
#1) I drove to a bowling alley 10 minutes from my apartment and found easy street parking for a free show (and a donation to a local music org).
#2) The band was very famous.
The event was a good lesson about how the location of live music can affect a listener’s perception of the music itself. “Move Along” is a song that sends waves of satisfaction through my veins when heard over the speakers at a grocery store or bar. The bass’ grounded pulse, vocalists’ harmonies, and electric guitar chords push the momentum forward. For a high energy song that consistently builds tension then releases, it’s pleasant on the ears. I recorded a few seconds to have some documentation of the night in my camera role, but felt kind of numb.
Anyway, Ritter talked about how the band “sold-out” when they got lots of radio play and went big on MTV. Now, they’re ready to make new music again.
One of the new songs they played is "Sandbox,” a single about a war on a playground written through the lens of a child. It’s bright and far less emo than their earlier work, which makes sense given their most recent full-length studio album was released in 2012. “Sandbox” is underwhelming. It begins with Ritter carefully tip-toeing across a verse with a simple beat. Each time the chorus roles around, the instrumental quickly builds into a subtle burst of energy. The noise increases as if to wake the listener up, then drops. Repeat.
The other new song, set to released June 5 according to Ritter, held a stronger, yet not groundbreaking hook. The chorus goes, something, something, “Easy come, easy go.” Ritter asked the crowd to cheer “Easy come” and “Easy go.” It’s the more memorable single from the forthcoming album.
At least the band checked the boxes on their biggest singles. We got the breakout “Swing, Swing,” emo “Gives You Hell,” aforementioned iconic “Dirty Little Secret,” pumping anthem “Move Along,” and ballad-like “It Ends Tonight.” Can you imagine if they didn’t play the radio hits. Like, you stand in line for hours to see your childhood idols and they don’t play “Gives you Hell,” the song you listened to on repeat to get over an ex? What a let down.
But there was just something about Ritter’s energy when playing the decade(s) old songs that said, “I’m chasing the high of my early-20s stardom.” The way he replaced “I wanna touch you” with a vocally grittier “I wanna fuck you” in the last chorus of “I Wanna” as if it was a super edgy move came off as cringy. But then again, maybe the lyric and tone change would come off differently, more shocking and exciting, if sung in an arena.
Cool stuff nonetheless
I was part of the “matinee” crowd—the line stretched so many blocks the band decided to do a second show—and from videos, it seems the latter one was a bit more rowdy and packed. I asked an employee about the room’s capacity, and he pointed to a sign that said 400, but added that it was whatever the General Manager felt comfortable with. So who knows how many people were at each show!
Ritter said the group did not come to town to sell t-shirts, Ticketmaster tickets with tons of fees, or $25 parking; they just want to sell songs people want to grow up with. It’s a nice sentiment, even if the say he phrased it was kind of a strange. A household name band putting on free shows in random locations with day-of notice is pretty cool. (The show in Ames, Iowa was in a barn.) Still, it’s worth noting All-American Rejects will be back in the Cities in October to play the Xcel Center with the Jonas Brothers.
Sitting here under my heated blanket, I’m so, so happy for fans who may call the night at Memory Lanes a once in a lifetime opportunity, a 2025 highlight, or a memory to be cherished for as long as possible. Dare I say, a trip down memory lane? (Sorry, I had to say it). Plus, the sound quality was great. My brain just isn’t wired with the proper level of fandom to fully appreciate the event, but I am glad I went. It might be a good story to tell at parties.
P.S. If you’re ever looking for food in Seward, I recommend Cafe Racer. The yuca frita are perfect. I ate mine (along with the roasted vegetable entrée) while standing in line in the rain.