Old Friends, Old Songs, Haunted Halls: Face To Face at The Stanley Hotel
The mountain air felt crisp as we pulled into Estes Park, that high altitude feeling mixing with the kind of excitement you get before seeing a band whose music was part of the soundtrack to your teens. We made the trip for the Face To Face show at the Stanley Hotel, and the whole town already felt like the right place for it. The town is tucked into the mountains, cool air and cool people, with just enough weird charm to make you feel like you're on a trip you’ll remember years from now.
Before the show, we toured the Stanley Hotel, which transformed the whole experience from just another show into something bigger. Everyone knows the hotel because of The Shining, but walking through it hits different. Strange details catch your eye in every corner. That place has been through a century of stories, and unlike most haunted tourist traps, the Stanley lives up to its reputation without needing to exaggerate anything.
Before the show we stopped at the bar where they filmed Dumb and Dumber, already awesome on its own, but doing it right before a punk show made it even cooler. There we were, sitting with friends I’ve known since high school, talking about the shows we went to as kids, now all adults in a bar from a Jim Carrey movie inside a haunted hotel about to see a band we grew up with. Total nostalgia overload in the best way.
These weren’t just show friends. These were the people who were with me at the local venues, my first pits, the broken hearts, the bands we found before anyone else cared. They’re a huge part of why I eventually started Emo Punk Memories. So being back in that room with them, waiting for the lights to drop, just felt right.
The auditorium was the perfect setting. Wooden stage worn smooth by decades of performers. Vintage lights casting warm shadows. A room that’s witnessed more history than all of us combined. It’s intimate without being cramped, creating an energy that pulls you closer to the band than usual. The kind of room where you don’t just hear the music but feel it bounce through the whole space and settle in your chest.
The crowd was exactly what you’d expect. Gen X and older millennials who’ve had Face To Face in their rotation forever. People who’ve seen this band in every kind of venue and were ready to see them in a place like this. And once the band hit the stage, everyone slipped right back into that old feeling.
You could see it in how people moved toward the front and how faces changed when the first chords hit.
They played their entire self-titled album front to back, almost like they were opening for themselves. No era hopping. No easing in. Just a full run of 1996. And the crowd loved it because those songs aren’t deep cuts to this group. They’re the foundation.
The pit fired up with that old-school etiquette you don’t see much anymore. People paying attention, helping each other up, keeping the room safe without making a big deal out of it. That unspoken understanding that we’re all here together. Seeing that still alive meant a lot.
After the album playthrough, they stepped off for a minute, then came back out for what felt like the true headlining set. That’s when they started pulling from the rest of their catalog, and the room made everything sound bigger. The vocals and guitars wrapped around the wooden beams and old architecture in a way modern venues just can’t replicate.
When they closed with “Disconnected,” the entire room pushed forward one last time. It felt personal, like watching them in their prime again, but surrounded by people who understood how much that song has meant.
Walking out into the mountain air afterward, it hit me how rare nights like this are. A historic hotel. A mountain town. A punk band that still sounds incredible. Friends who were there when this music first mattered. It didn’t feel like trying to relive anything. It just felt honest.
This is why I still go to shows. Why this scene still matters. It didn’t die. It grew up the same way we did, the same way the Stanley did. Still standing. Still loud. Still capable of giving you a night you think about long after.
On the way out, I kept thinking about what other bands would crush it in that room. Alkaline Trio inside that old wood and warm lighting would be unreal. The Stanley has a way of pulling the best out of bands with depth. That show needs to happen.
