Well said, John Cusack. Now, did I listen to emo music because I'm miserable or am I miserable because I listen to emo music? Chicken, meet egg.
I'll defend emo music for as long as I can breathe because I grew up during the "golden" days of emo. Right before Chris Carrabba became MTV's poster child for the genre and the midwestern boys took it a tad too far in naming their bands/songs. Back before the naming became an internet meme, before black nail polish meant you had a sensitive soul, and back before every freaking band has a singer and a screamer.
Paste Magazine made a list of ten bands that supposedly paved the way for today's absurdity. If you took away Rites of Spring from the list and replaced it with Jets to Brazil and Saves the Day, then you've defined my musical taste in high school. Many of these bands are defunct, i.e. the Promise Ring, Braid, Texas is the Reason. Some bands have grown to an unrecognizable form (I'm talking about you, Weezer. What happened after Pinkerton?) Others are drifting in search of a solid state: Alkaline Trio, Cursive (to a degree).
What makes the music from those halcyon days any better than the stuff we have today? The emotional drive. The honesty. The soul shaking guitar riffs. We can dissect these songs until I've proven my point but sometimes you can't understand a sentiment until you've experienced it. These bands arrived as pop music peaked. The mid to late nineties plastered the world with boy bands, girl power, choreographed dance movements and matching outfits. Radio pop music had (and still has) an obsession with sexually charged songs. Case in point would be the introduction of Britney Spears' to the world in 1998 with "Baby One More Time." One more time to do what, Brit? The music videos prances her in a school girl uniform, the skirt a bit too high and that bare stomach a bit too taut.
Then "10 Minutes" by the Get Up Kids reach my ears and I was given three minutes of honest, well phrased lyrics. Three minutes of jaunting, upbeat guitars over lines like "you're falling in love/while I just fall apart." It's a purge of wants and frustration crammed into three minutes of simple chords and crashing drums.
And what do we have today? My Chemical Romance? Boys in angled hair cuts and black tight fitting jeans? Songs about being so depressed that death is your bitch lover? Wow, no thanks. The emo of yore acknowledge heartache and depression but in a humorous, self-deprecating way over a three-chord riff. My favorite example is Weezer's "Pink Triangle": "I'm dumb. She's a lesbian/I thought I had found the one." No speak of endless tears under the inferno of the sun or demented brooding.
Emo was good ol' rock n roll fun with a dash of lovesick pain and occasional spite. As if you gave Paul McCartney and John Lennon from the "I Wanna Hold your Hands" days rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs with the following directions: Go nuts. The end results may be simple, honest lyrics hidden by loud guitars, but man, oh, man, it was a frolicking good time.
My emo playlist:
-"Out of Reach" by the Get Up Kids
-"Across the Sea" by Weezer
-"Forever Leaving" by Tijuana Crime Scene
-"Cars and Calories" by Saves the Day
-"My Heart Skips a Beat" by the Promise Ring
-The New Amsterdams' Para Toda Vida album
-"Sweet Avenue" or "Starry Configuration" by Jets to Brazil
...my list is actually unending for this genre but these songs were on constant rotation when I was 16. I might also revert to a giddy 16 year old come this Sunday when I'll catch Sunny Day Real Estate. Here's hoping they play Diary in its entirety. If not, who cares? I'm seeing Sunny Day Real Estate!
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