The Academy Is… A Time Capsule in Motion
- Vaneza Gutiérrez Wyckoff
- Apr 28
- 4 min read
Updated: Apr 29
Almost Here’s 20th anniversary tour shone as a living, breathing love letter to the 2000s.
Article & Photos by Vaneza Gutiérrez Wyckoff
There are shows that feel like concerts, and then there are shows that feel like stepping through a wormhole in time. The Academy Is…’s Almost Here 20th Anniversary tour landed firmly in the latter, pulling the crowd headfirst into the glittering, angst-laced heartbeat of the mid-2000s and refusing to let go.

Setting the tone for the night was Jon Walker, delivering a scaled-down, solo set armed with nothing but an electric guitar and a quiet confidence that felt almost conspiratorial. He serenaded the crowd with original songs, such as “Sun and Moon” and “Fairytale” before leaning fully into the spirit of nostalgia that hovered over the room like a familiar melody you hadn’t realized you missed. Closing his set with covers of Fall Out Boy’s “Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today,” The Young Vein’s “Take A Vacation!,” and Panic! At The Disco’s “Nine In The Afternoon,” Walker didn’t just warm up the crowd, he rewound them. Each chorus felt like flipping through an old yearbook, each lyric a scribbled note in the margins. By the time his set ended, the audience wasn’t just ready for The Academy Is… they were submerged in the 00s, positively buzzing for what was to come.

And then came the main event.
Taking the stage with the kind of electricity that doesn’t dim with time, The Academy Is… launched into Almost Here in its entirety, celebrating two decades since its release with a performance that felt anything but dated. Instead, it pulsed with the urgency and vitality of a band that knows exactly what these songs mean, both to themselves and to the crowd rejoicing in front of them.
From the opening notes, it was clear this wasn’t just a playthrough of a familiar album - it was so much more.
The crowd screamed every word back at the stage with unwavering intensity, their voices colliding into a chorus that blurred the line between the band onstage and audience. It didn’t matter if the song was one that had soundtracked their teenage years or one that had only been out for a matter of weeks, the enthusiasm never wavered. Each lyric was delivered like it still had something to prove, like it still mattered just as much now as it did then.
Woven between the Almost Here tracklist were fan favorites like “About A Girl,” “LAX to O’Hare,” and “We’ve Got A Big Mess On Our Hands,” each one landing like a familiar punch to the chest in the best possible way. And then, seamlessly, the band bridged past and present with songs from their recently released and long-awaited album Almost There. Tracks like “L Train,” “2005,” and “Miracle” didn’t feel like newcomers trying to earn their place. Instead, they slotted into the set with a natural ease, as if they had always belonged in this world.

At the center of it all shone William Beckett, whose vocals were as sharp and controlled as ever. His stage presence was magnetic, his energy infectious, constantly reaching out and pulling the crowd along with him. There was a sense of familiarity in the way he moved, in the way he egged the audience on with the same vigor that defined the band’s early days, but it never felt like a reenactment. Joined by most of the original band, it felt lived-in, fully realized, and undeniably present.
What made the night even more striking was the crowd itself, a kaleidoscope of eras colliding in real time. There were elder emos clad in outfits as black as their hearts, longtime fans in local sports jerseys and jeans, and younger attendees channeling the spirit of 00s scene kids with colorful, teased hair and friendship bracelets stacked all the way up their arms. It was a visual reminder that this music didn’t just belong to one moment in time. It had stretched, evolved, and found new life in every person singing along.
In a world that moves quickly, often leaving its past behind without a second thought, The Academy Is… proved that some things don’t fade. They transform, they deepen, they gather new meaning with every passing year.

For one night, Almost Here wasn’t just an album celebrating its 20th anniversary. It was a living, breathing time capsule, one that invited everyone in the room to remember who they were, who they are, and maybe, just maybe, who they’ve been all along.





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