DAY 5 - DIVISIVE
I love this album. Love.
But it is not universal.
I know the man who recorded and helped produce it, and when I told him this is my favorite album of theirs, he asked "are you sure?"
On my Facebook page, I had written an essay in 2017 about why I love this album for one of those "Top 10 Albums That Shaped You" sequences. This was #9, from when I was 21 years old in 2002.
The following is the essay:
So, apparently, a type of music that I loved for years and felt a kinship with had a name: EMO.
Guess what? I never heard that word until summer of 2000. It didn't make any sense to me then, and makes almost as much sense now. A catchall name for a genre? You can't do that.
Except rap. And rock and roll. And classical. And jazz. And soul. And anything else you wanted to identify. Make no mistake: the concept of “Emo” had been going on for years, but not as long as the concept of organization.
When I was listening to Sunny Day Real Estate in 8th grade, no concept of emo. It was just music. The guitarwork to me was a stroke of genius, as seemed to be all melody with nary a power chord on the horizon; the basslines were the most melodic laid to tape since the first three Elvis Costello albums; the drums were heavy metal in spirit and precision but not in blinding, relentless aggression; the vocals literally went from a whisper to a scream with NO NOTICE. It was just a rock album to me, but not like anything I had heard before. Apparently, this had been going on for years, but I was unaware of it. Apparently, I had bought my first “emo” album.
Interestingly, I bought other albums considered to be a part of this genre: Jawbox, Rites of Spring, Fugazi, Elliott... all they had in common to me was a spirit, albeit a spirit that was on the verge of an emotional collapse. Apparently, I loved emo music.
But what the hell IS emo? That answer to this day is going to depend on who you are asking, and it has splintered into subgenres within subgenres, not to mention all of the cross-pollination.
To give you an example, I point to a friend of mine who was into emo music that I used to visit at a local coffee shop. He was in love with emo music. His personal picks: Get Up Kids, Saves The Day, New Found Glory, Hot Rod Circuit, The Anniversary, Alkaline Trio, MxPx, Jimmy Eat World... apparently, emo music was a form of power pop with lyrics that had a more personal edge that was borderline embarassment.
Then there were friends of mine I worked with at another coffee shop. Their cup of tea? Well... they loved those bands too, but added Darwin Radio, Casket Lottery, Promise Ring, Rainer Maria, Braid, the Husking Bee, Appleseed Cast, Cap'n Jazz, Christie Front Drive... I was very confused. No power pop that was explicitly discernable, but it still made lyrical and melodic sense, but the vocals verged on shouting in certain areas.
Then, there were friends that had a much harder take: Portraits of Past, Julia, Orchid, Funeral Diner, Blood Brothers, Hope Conspiracy, Hopesfall, Snapcase... what the fuck? Yes, it made sense, but, really, this was much louder and every shout hurt MY lungs.
I really was confused by all of this. I began searching for musical consistencies in places they didn't exist. Julia and Portraits Of Past played music that was slow, dreary, and sparse... does that mean that Codeine and Low were also emo? Sunny Day Real Estate were on Sub Pop with Hazel and Velocity Girl, two other bands rooted in a punk sound... by way of the people listening to Saves The Day and MxPx, I presented this question: were they also emo? The beautiful guitarwork that was at the heart of this music was also in bands like Chavez and Superchunk... the jury is still out.
I didn't get it.
Then there were the shows... how the hell could Saves The Day play with bands like Bane or Dashboard Confessional? Why was Superchunk on a bill with Hot Rod Circuit? And why were Hot Water Music on the same bill as Sparta? Or Weezer? Or Glassjaw? Or... you get the idea.
And what about bands that were more “melodic” or more “math” than others? Where does Piebald fit? Where does Recover fit? Where does Hey Mercedes fit?
The long and short of it is this: nobody has any damn idea. And anyone that tells you they have an idea is a liar at best or a charlatan (read: NOOB) at worst.
I was in the throes of trying to figure all of this out in early 2002. My favorite go-to band was The Get Up Kids. I have no shame in this: every album they ever made is essential listening to me in one way or another because they have never made a bad album or released something that seemed ingenuine. They were for some reason the at the heart of everything... and Thursday. These two bands dominated.
But then came the album
On A Wire.
Somehow, the band that everyone seemed to agree on made an album that NO ONE could agree on. Was this still an “emo” band? Then why did this album sound more like Wilco, Son Volt, Elvis Costello, or late-era Replacements? Was there even a precedence for this? The answer: yes, there in fact WAS evidence in their previous works that people conveniently overlooked at the time. I kept having to remind friends about “I'll Catch You,” “Michele With One L,” “Out Of Reach,” and, hey, what about The New Amsterdams, a Get Up Kids related side-project that all of you were raving about with me in the last year?
I had spent years at this point trying to understand this music, and make connections with people through it. It would seem that the one thing everybody had in common was that we were all a little bit lost in one way or another, and trying to find friendship and companionship through shared musical loves. But that didn't stop people from making very clear, concrete, political decisions about their friends, their fashion, or their taste superiority. It seemed that most people found like five or six people within that lost crowd, buddied up, and had zero room for anyone else. For a scene that to the outside, and to an extent on the inside, was so lonely and isolated, I found many people within it to be very cold and dismissive. For a while, I had three to five friends I could really talk about this music with, and they all hated each other's musical tastes. So much for a community.
And for all those reasons and more, this album holds a special place with me in a way their others don't.
Something To Write Home About is an undisputed classic, and every time I hear it, I am reminded of the first time I heard it, driving on a highway to a gig, and I relive what it was like to be excited about things that haven't happened yet. And I have great memories, inspiration, and love because of and for
Eudora, Four Minute Mile, and
Guilt Show, and, while I haven't listened to them as much, I did love
Simple Science and
There Are Rules.
But this album... this album seems like a “screw you” to the aesthetics of what was expected to them, which is the biggest message for me: WE ARE MORE THAN A GENRE, WE ARE GREAT SONGS. This album does not belong to a musical style; this album does not belong to horn-rimmed glasses; this album does not belong to Chuck Taylors; this album does not belong to skinny jeans; this album does not belong to twin SG guitars fighting for dominance; this album does not belong to pretention.
And this, for years afterwards, was a reminder that I should not care about any of that either, let alone people who make those their musical values.
This album belongs to people who don't care about any of that, but just want to enjoy listening to a block of music for 40 minutes.
And I am just the man for the job.
