Picture this: it’s 2000-and-something, you’re in all black, rocking dirty Vans and bracelets practically to your elbows on what feels like the hottest day of the year. Even before you walk in, the clash of drums and loud guitars hits you from outside the gates. You don’t know the set times until you step onto the grounds, and suddenly you’re swallowed by clouds of dust kicked up from a dozen mosh pits. For many, Warped Tour wasn’t just a festival—it was a rite of passage.

Read More