Every summer, while most people are thinking about pool parties or road trips, I am drawn to stadium lights, drumline warm-ups, and the roar of a brass hit that shakes you to your core. That’s the sound of Drum Corps International – or just DCI to those of us who live and breathe it.

Now, I know what you might be thinking: “Isn’t that just, like, fancy marching band stuff?” That’s what I thought at first, too. But trust me, once you experience a real DCI show, you realize it’s in a whole different universe.

As a sousaphone player and section leader at Pride of Portola, Portola High School Marching Band, I’ve spent years in the trenches – sweating through rehearsals, perfecting posture, memorizing drills, and trying to make our bass sound wall-to-wall. But DCI? It’s like a marching band leveled up by a 1000. It’s where the best of the best go to push themselves past every limit–and make magic out of music, movement, and madness.

What even is DCI?

For people who’ve never heard of it, DCI is basically the NFL of marching arts. It started back in 1972 and has grown into a massive summer tour that brings together the most elite student musicians and performers from all over the world. Currently, there are 50 active corps, split into World Class, Open Class, and All Age categories. World and Open Class performers are mostly 21 years old, which makes what they do on the field even crazier.

Each corps has up to 165 members, and to even get into one, you have to go through intense auditions that test your marching abilities, musical skills, and visual performance. We’re talking months of training to make the cut. And once you’re in, it’s full-time. Like, eat-sleep-rehearse-perform-repeat full-time.

The season runs from late June to early August, and it ends with the DCI World Championships in Indianapolis. Every show is eight to 12 minutes, but it is packed with high-speed drill, original music, insane visuals, and storytelling that makes you feel something in your chest. Judges score corps on everything from general effect to music performance, and the Blue Devils have taken home 21 titles, more than any other corps in history.

Why does it matter so much to me?

I joined a band in high school, not quite knowing what I was getting into. But somewhere between hauling that giant brass hunk around and running sets on the turf in full sun, I fell in love with it. And when I became a section leader at Portola, everything changed. Leading the sousaphone line taught me patience, grit, and a sense of pride.

But even on our best days, I’d watch DCI videos on YouTube and think, “How are they even doing that?” The precision. The stamina. The sheer emotion behind the performance. So when I finally got to attend a live show this summer, Drum Corps at the Rose Bowl, it was a straight-up dream-come-true moment.

We rolled into Pasadena just as the sun started setting behind the stadium. I remember hopping out of the car, barely even caring that I hadn’t eaten in hours. My brain was buzzing. People in corps shirts were already everywhere – talking, laughing, and speed-walking to the “lot” to catch warm-ups, but tighter and meaner. I swear, hearing a snare line run through their book from just a few feet away hits differently. It’s physical.

The performances hit me harder than I expected

Once the actual show began, I was hooked. Every single corps brought something completely unique to the field. The Boston Crusaders blew me away with their loud brass section and confident attitude; they knew they were cool and didn’t care who knew it. The Santa Clara Vanguard was the opposite – clean, controlled, and artsy in the best way. Their show was called “The aVANt-Guard”, and I still can’t get the visuals out of my head. Then the Mandarins showed up and… I wasn’t ready. Their show “If I Must Fall…” was straight-up emotional. It wasn’t just about being loud or fast – it was poetic. At one point, I looked around and saw people wiping their eyes. No kidding.

But, the coolest part? I recognized someone in the field. A senior from Portola who graduated a month ago, Nikola Ahrens, is now marching baritone with Pacific Crest. That moment made the whole thing feel real, like, “Okay, I could actually do this someday.”

Interview: A real voice from the field

I caught up with Ahrens after the show, while he was loading up gear behind the stadium. He looked exhausted, but lit up when he saw me. I asked him a few quick questions:

Q: What’s the hardest part of marching DCI?

A: “Honestly? It’s the grind. You wake up at like 6:30 a.m., and you’re rehearsing all day in the heat. It’s brutal. But weirdly, you get used to it. You even start to love it.”

Q: What makes it worth it?

A: “ That moment at the end of a show when the crowd’s on their feet and you’re holding the final pose, and you know you just gave everything…It’s unbeatable. Like, you’re dead tired, but you feel alive in a way that’s hard to explain.”

Q: Advice to someone who’s thinking about auditioning?

A: “Don’t talk yourself out of it. Just go for it. I didn’t think I was good enough when I auditioned, but I worked like crazy and made it. Even if you don’t make it on the first try, the process makes you better.”

Talking to Ahrens made the whole thing feel even more achievable. He was one of us, not some prodigy, just a guy who cared a lot and refused to give up. If he could do it, so could I.

This isn’t just marching — it’s art. It’s family.

Look, I get the jokes. People love to say the marching band is lame. But the second you see a DCI show in person, your jaw hits the floor. These are teenagers and young adults moving like dancers, playing like pros, and performing like their lives depend on it. And they do all of this under the sun, day after day, traveling across the country with their corps family. They eat together, sleep on buses or gym floors, rehearse in 90-degree heat, and still show up every night with enough energy to blow away thousands of fans.

According to DCI, members rehearse up to 12 hours a day and perform at over 30 competitions per season. That’s more work than a lot of full-time jobs. But they do it for the love of the activity. For the rush. For the art.

And yeah, DCI is a competition. Scores matter. But most fans don’t remember who won last year. They remember the shows. The moments. The feeling when a chord resolution makes the entire stadium erupt. That’s what sticks.

Final thoughts: You’ve gotta see it to believe It

On the way home from the Rose Bowl, my friend and I couldn’t shut up. We argued about which corps had the best drill, which one had the best closer, and which soloist had the best tone. I remember thinking, “This is why I love this activity.” Not just for the music, but for how it brings people together.

DCI isn’t just a “high-level band.” It’s athleticism, artistry, emotion, and connection all rolled into one. If you’ve never seen it, go! Even if you don’t know anything about marching, just go! Watch the lot, grab some merch, eat a corn dog, and sit back and let your brain explode when the show starts.

Because once you see a corps hit their final pose with 70,000 people on their feet screaming? You get it.

And you’ll never forget it.