Trapped in the monotony of suburban Connecticut, I felt a kinship with this motley group of hardcore dudes from Long Island, who sang about trashed friendships and soured love. At 13, I held my beat-up CD player on my lap and rode my bike in circles on my long, winding driveway, listening to Your Favorite Weapon and, later, Deja Entendu. I wore skinny jeans years before they became universally popular and gigantic band T-shirts meant to hide my steadily withering body. At some point, virtually every teenager has a relationship like this with a band: practically druglike, all-consuming. For those of us with a commitment to an alternative aesthetic — goths, punks, emos groups that looked like the same brand of bad news to our parents, but were Totally different things, Mom, god!
Martin Cizmar 4. Today's emo kids do not, I assure you, give a fuck about Guy Picciotto. It's more than dumb, teenage angst filled culture that bothers me than the music itself. I don't hate it so much myself, least not anymore. Glory Fades," Brand New Ah, those dual vocals: When used properly, Being emo sucks take an ordinary pop breakup song Your xxx tv make it truly sound like sucka heart being ripped out.
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Finally, someone has apologised for helping invent emo.
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Trapped in the monotony of suburban Connecticut, I felt a kinship with this motley group of hardcore dudes from Long Island, who sang about trashed friendships and soured love. At 13, I held my beat-up CD player on my lap and rode my bike in circles on my long, winding driveway, listening to Your Favorite Weapon and, later, Deja Entendu. I wore skinny jeans years before they became universally popular and gigantic band T-shirts meant to hide my steadily withering body. At some point, virtually every teenager has a relationship like this with a band: practically druglike, all-consuming.
For those of us with a commitment to an alternative aesthetic — goths, punks, emos groups that looked like the same brand of bad news to our parents, but were Totally different things, Mom, god!
The way we dressed, after all, signified the stuff we listened to: If you were in the know, you could easily tell a Marilyn Manson devotee from a Nausea-loving crust punk from a My Chemical Romance—sort of scene kid.
Preps and jocks thought we were all fucking weirdos, but we had our own allegiances. Our own religions. And shows, of course, were where we went to church: in shag-carpeted basements, in dive bars, at festivals like Warped Tour, and, later, bafflingly, in stadiums. We slammed our bodies into one another while the music played, turning ourselves inside out. Just as we were on the verge of being smacked in the face by adulthood, here were a bunch of bona fide adults singing to us about how much everything sucks — jobs, relationships, life itself — and swearing that they were never going to grow up.
But, of course, we did. And the world looks different now than it did when we were The alternative rock, emo, and punk scenes have been just as bad at stamping out rampant strains of misogyny and sexual harassment as the music world at large , but the Lacey allegations feel like a particularly heartbreaking blow.
Because Brand New was such a formative force for budding musicians and fans. Because, in hindsight, these allegations were alluded to in lyrics about mistreating women that we romanticized as teenagers. You can sin or spend the night all alone. So much for that. Last Friday, in a since-deleted Facebook post, a woman named Nicole Elizabeth Garey wrote that Lacey had solicited nude photos from her when she was 15 and Lacey was 24, among other accusations.
I am sorry for ignoring the way in which my position, status, and power as a member of a band affected the way people viewed me or their approach to their interactions with me. And I am sorry for how often I have not afforded women the respect, support, or honesty that they deserved, and which is their right. Garey has since spoken to Pitchfork about her story. In addition to asking her for nude photos when she was 15, Garey said that Lacey also Skyped her while masturbating when she was 22 or Lacey was my hero.
I have a feeling I would have given him anything he wanted. Boys who would understand me. That was a ridiculous thing to assume, of course. But when dating my first couple of boyfriends, overjoyed and overwhelmed to be with guys who listened to the same bands and loved the same things that I did, I excused a lot of bad shit. It turns out that emo boys were not inherently any worse or any better than other dipshit teen guys.
But still, I held them to a higher standard; I expected better, wanted better. One of my oldest, dearest friends, a coworker at the snack shack where I worked during every middle and high school summer, took me to my first ever Warped Tour when I was Packed in a crappy car with a bunch of gangly older boys on the way to Warped, I felt inadequate and shy, but when we cranked down all the windows and cranked up the music, I eased up, screaming along to the lyrics like everybody else.
When we got there, I shoved against them all in the Against Me! And I felt grateful, for years afterward, that my friend had taken me along to experience that. He was a big guy, covered in tattoos, gentle and soft-spoken and kind. Even as I got older and stopped having such an obsessive relationship with Brand New and other bands, I could still get in the car with him after work and drive around with the windows down, screaming the words to the songs I had loved so much.
He was supposed to be one of the good ones. Now we no longer speak. What happened in that room at that party soured the joyous memory of being a year-old taken in by a motley crew of older boys — young men — who shepherded me through the messy world of alt-rock when it seemed like music was all I had. Now that golden-hued trip to Warped Tour seems predatory. Now in his forties with a wife and family, he reflects on his past wrongs.
Men inside and outside of the mids alt-rock scene have gotten away with far too much shit for too long. But now, an era is ending. Science Fiction and the tour that followed it were supposed to be a way for Brand New to grow up and graduate with accolades and grace. The good reviews seemed primed to launch them on a triumphant comeback tour. Along with the end of Warped, it felt like the fitting last act of an era: bittersweet, but necessary.
Time to grow up. If Brand New stops producing and touring for good, fans will be spared from having to actively choose not to spend their money supporting an alleged serial sexual exploiter of minors. But what to do with all the music that already exists in the world — music that gave Lacey the kind of power he might have traded on to coerce and manipulate teen girls? In the past month in particular, when and whether to separate art from the flawed artists who make it has been exhaustively debated.
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10 Emo Songs That Dont Suck | Phoenix New Times
Don't have an account yet? Get the most out of your experience with a personalized all-access pass to everything local on events, music, restaurants, news and more. Everyone hates emo. Well, everyone who matters hates emo, at least.
Ten years after Jimmy Eat World's Clarity set the standard for the genre, it seems to be on its last legs, creatively and commercially, without any real fans among tastemakers. Since critics, not charts, tend to write music history, there is good cause to fear time will make emo only more of a joke. That would be a shame. Though most emo is rightfully reviled by anyone who isn't a teenager with a ridiculous haircut, there have been plenty of amazing songs released in the past 10 years or so that are, nonetheless, quintessentially emo.
Those songs, and the bands who recorded them, deserve their due. If anyone has to defend the genre, it's us — Arizona. Clarity , which Jimmy Eat World is celebrating by playing the album in its entirety in 10 cities including Tempe at a sold-out homecoming show Saturday at the Marquee is probably the most influential record ever made by an Arizona band. Though emo is certainly a national musical movement — perhaps the first distinct genre emerging without any real regional roots — Phoenix has consistently proved to be a fertile market for spawning and supporting emo bands.
When emo's poster kids, Fall Out Boy, wanted to record a live disc, where did they go? Cricket Wireless Pavilion. Emo is part of Arizona's musical heritage — just like Gin Blossoms and The Meat Puppets — and it's time we own and defend it. To me, that's ridiculous: So-called first wave emo at the time called emocore is just hardcore with sappy lyrics. Today's emo kids do not, I assure you, give a fuck about Guy Picciotto. But songs like "Ohio Is for Lovers," with its hyper-melodic power-punk refrain set above a hardcore growl, cause the confusion.
Hawthorne Heights sounds poppy and polished, but there's something different here: that growl, the grit in their guitars, the over-the-top emotion. That's pure, undistilled emo, and it's wonderful. The odd thing is that, as Way told the New York Times , he wrote the song about being on the other side of the equation on a teen-filled subway car: "That was the first time I felt old. I was nervous and I was a target. I felt like I had become a parent figure or part of the problem.
This is the theatrical side of emo the hair, the showmanship at its best and it's a sight to behold. Glory Fades," Brand New Ah, those dual vocals: When used properly, they take an ordinary pop breakup song and make it truly sound like your heart being ripped out. Not that "Sic Transit Gloria" is a typical breakup song. Actually, I think it might be about a guy being raped by his girlfriend. Pretty weird, but entirely emo. Frontman Matt Pryor has gone to incredible lengths to disassociate himself with the tag, but it's stuck, and "10 Minutes" will show you why.
A burst of blissful pop with lyrics like, "Don't be gone when I get home; you're all I have. If I had to explain it, I wouldn't know where to start. You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter s - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
Kansas' The Anniversary, using a heartrending keyboard drone, somehow manages to make Des Moines sound romantic in this track off their absolutely perfect album Designing a Nervous Breakdown. Weezer's beloved album Pinkerton is, musically, not much different from their geeky alt-pop debut, but the lyrics were, clearly, inspirational to the emo acts to come. I'll call Pinkerton proto-emo and declare "Pink Triangle," an extended whine from a guy in love with a girl who turns out to be a lesbian, the best reason for seeing it that way.
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