I Breathe the Underground

Take This to Your Grave: An Open Letter to Fall Out Boy

Dear Patrick, Pete, Andy, and Joe,

It's been about five years now. Our relationship started out so strong and I thought you were the ones, the band that would make it big and would still deserve my respect. Over the past few years, you've taken me on a roller coaster ride that I can only call "complicated," so complicated in fact that I think you wrote the entire album Infinity On High about us. I don't want you to think this is over -- but I have to confess, I've been having my doubts.

 I knew I was in love with you the moment I first listened to Take This to Your Grave. From the opening riff of "Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today" to the closing lyrics of "The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes," you held my attention. You held it and you caressed it like a little chica-dee that had just hatched from a small emo shell, a tiny little teardrop tattooed on its little eye.

And when I first saw you live, it was a cold day in winter, right after my last final exam. You were playing with the likes of Fuel, and no one came to see you. I saw the frustration in Pete's eyes when his bass spontaneously broke and shattered on the ground after he slammed it in anger. I saw tiny little emo tear drops forming at the corner of Pete's eyeshadow. I remember the tight-knit little crowd, shouting out the lyrics and moshing amongst ourselves. Dammit Fall Out Boy, I remember hanging out with you after the show.

I remember the time when you blew the lid off of the Bottom Lounge (RIP), Joe jumping off walls, Pete hanging from the lights, screaming out the closing verse of Saturday. I remember the first big show you guys played, when you co-headlined and I knew you'd made it. Like I'd always said, huh? So what if the Chicago hardcore scene mocked you for selling out your roots; I knew you guys were having fun and that's really all that matters when it came to music.

I was there when you guys started a riot at Illinois State and the cops had to come to break up the show. I remember the words of the smiling girl as she was wheeled out of the auditorium on a gurney: "Totally f@ckin' worth it."

I remember the release and critical-acclaim of From Under the Cork Tree. You told me the truth, that the album was a musical progression, but for some reason I couldn't shake the feeling that you'd changed.

We saw each other on-and-off over that year, between intense of bouts of pain and joy. Suddenly, Pete started wearing an ungodly amount of eye makeup and hair gel, Joe starting smoking cigarettes, and Patrick changed his last name from "Stumpf" to "Stump." (Oh yes, Patrick, you thought no one noticed, but I assure you they did.) It became painfully clear that, even though you still called Chicago your home, you were slowly beginning the transition that all bands make to the West Coast, that unholiest of places.

Over the next several months, we began seeing less and less of each other. I was even considering making a clean break, but Infinity On High was released. I have to be honest -- I was teetering there for a moment, but you renewed my faith with that album. I still felt slightly unsettled, but at least I knew I wanted us to be together for a little longer at least.

But then I became sick of you again. Between Pete's relationship with Ashley Simpson (c'mon buddy, a comatose gorilla has more musical talent) and Patrick's countless guest appearances anywhere and everywhere, I wanted to cover my ears and scream. But I stuck with you because I made a commitment that I wanted...no, needed...to stick to. Why you ask? Maybe it was because I couldn't let go of how you made me feel in the beginning. Maybe it was to prove to myself that I was not a musical snob. Either way, something inside me feels like we've been together for all the wrong reasons.

Are you even listening to me? I thought maybe I was starting to get through to you, but I guess not. I just saw the old-timey graphic for your upcoming Folie a Deux, the accompanying press release, the video announcing the album where you stand at a podium and speak like you're announcing the Nobel Peace Prize, your "Big Brother" marketing campaign, etc. You've either finished another genius album or have put together the most pompous, pretentious collection of songs since...well, since Angels and Airwaves' latest recording. It doesn't matter though, because I'm done with the head games.

I just want you to know that I've found a younger band, a more polished version of your current selves. I'm of course speaking of Forever the Sickest Kids. Don't give me that look; you knew what was going on here. And while you'll still have a special place in my heart, you know that the upbeat tempo and flawless harmonies of "Hey Brittany" are impossible for me to stay away from. We've been seeing each other for about three months now.

You knew this would happen. You're in too deep now guys. Sure, I bet I'll tap my foot and maybe even sing along to the new album, but I want you to know that it will never be the same.

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs,
Me

P.S. Is that Buster from Arrested Development in your video for "Beat It?"

P.P.S. Take off that jacket Pete. It's eighty degrees out and you look ridiculous.

"Stop burning bridges / and drive off of them / so I can forget about you."
- Patrick Stump(f?), "Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today"

'Bout to Get Political On Yo Asses

A recent blog post on NOFX's MySpace page reads as follows:

"NOFX are headlining the opening of the Democratic National Convention at Red Rocks in Denver, Colorado this Friday, August 22nd. To celebrate Barack "Punk Rock" Obama's nomination, NOFX will perform Punk in Drublic in its entirety and in order.

Side Note: Fat Mike is pretty sure he is on Barack's VP shortlist. Keep yer fingers crossed everybody!"

Seriously?

No, of course not seriously you jackass! As far as I can tell from my research, there appears to be no connection between the DNC and NOFX whatsoever (aside from the fact that both events are taking place in the same city around the same time). What would a bunch of politicos wearing suits want to do with a legion of overage, overweight punk rockers that can't hold a tune or write an original song?

Harsh, Mark. I know, I know. But I'm starting to get pretty fed up with some of the bands on the Fat Wreck Chords list that shamelessly exploit their influence in the punk community to promote causes based on specific and personal belief systems. To name a few: Rise Against (former Fat Wreck), Anti-Flag (completely shameless), the Lawrence Arms (that was a given, as Brendan Kelly has always been an outspoken liberal).

Why can't these bands focus their efforts on supporting nice universal charities, like Save Darfur or Jerry's Kids? Why has there got to be an agenda with these bands, the ones that call out religious groups on indoctrinating followers, the ones that criticize conservatives for closed-minded thinking? There's never a thought to the hypocrisy involved here.

IF YOU'RE GOING TO BACK AN INITIATIVE TO GET PEOPLE TO VOTE, LET THE PEOPLE DECIDE FOR THEMSELVES WHO THEY'RE GOING TO VOTE FOR. Don't mask it as an open invite when the subject matter is one-sided.

And, I'm sorry, but I don't understand what blindly backing your party has to do with exercising your individuality. I plan on invoking my personal freedoms by exercising my right to NOT vote this coming election.

Okay, Obama is ballsy enough to discuss options for a peaceful resolution to the Israeli/Palestinian crisis. That doesn't mean that one or more leaders from either side didn't end up laughing in Obama's face because we sent an inexperienced d-bag to a place that he had no business at all visiting. How many great leaders have tried to negotiate a peaceful resolution to exactly that conflict? And in goes Barack, ready to save the world and flaunting his limited foreign policy experience like its something to be proud of.

And, honestly guys, there's no reason to bash McCain on your site. The poor guy doesn't have a clue how to work the internet to defend himself.

Really, why can't you guys stick to unaffiliated punk rock? Can't you just hate the world, rather than specific people?

Exploitation. Indoctrination. Degradation. Could be the title of the next NOFX album.

"Live your life with decision / Live your life, not religion."
- Fat Mike, "Live Your Life"

When Superheroes Try to Share One Cape

LAGWAGON. Did I catch you off guard? I bet you haven't heard that name in awhile. Fat Wreck's first officially signed band seems to pop up on my map every few years, but their soon to be released EP, I Think My Older Brother Used to Listen to Lagwagon, has caught me with my pants down and forced a pang of guilt on me, as I've rarely even thought about this band over the past three years. I think the guilt is slightly based on my status as the "Older Brother."

Let's take it back about seven years. In 2000, following five full-length albums, Wikipedia has told me that Lagwagon took a hiatus! Umm shit, had no idea. When 2003's Blaze hit shelves, it seemed to me they must have ventured out on a five year tour co-headlining with No Use for a Name. Seriously though, Lagwagon isn't a very forgettable band, but it seemed only natural that a few Fat Wreck nineties punkers were about due to hit the dust. All the bands signed to Fat Wreck seemed far too happy and complacent for it to be a real record label.

When Bad Astronaut came out with its first release, Joey Cape's eternally recognizable vocals had seemed to follow his heart in a musical evolution that only seemed natural at his age. They were too old to be punk rockers anymore...weren't they?

Au contraire. It seems I saw Lagwagon at Warped Tour, shortly before this supposed hiatus, and everyone in the crowd left the stage area with a smile on his or her face. Short of a heroin binge or the development of fatal heart diseases, the band couldn't have done that much to slow themselves down.

Blaze and Resolve (2005) appeared to pick up right where the band had left off, blasting out charming, melodic punk anthems at breakneck speed. I picked up both releases, and there was a defiant pleasure in them, but the band failed to do anything noteworthy since these albums.

Lagwagon fans -- rejoice! For it turns out Bad Astronaut was not so badass after all and has not withstood the test of time, and ITMOBUTLTL has been sent to fill the gap in your safety-pin closed hearts. The EP, which drops August 19th, does not disappoint the avid Lagwagon fan. Holding the title of an "Avid Lagwagon Fan," as well as having attained the release before it shall be let loose on the starving masses, I fully endorse this album. It isn't a deviation from their last umpteen albums, but that Lagwagon charm is still intact and churning at full speed.

"I'm old school / I'm played out / osteoporosis, glaucoma and neurosis / the vultures circling above our balding heads."
- Joey Cape, "Falling Apart"

Just What the Doctor Ordered

The other night I had the distinct pleasure of witnessing a musical melting-pot of reggae, punk, ska, jam-band and rock turn the restless Metro crowd into an anxious sea of troubled waters. Even though they'd appeared in Chicago on several occasions over the past year, I'd yet to see the reputed glory of the RX Bandits, live and in concert.

When I arrived at the show, fashionably late as usual, Portugal. the Man had traveled beyond their warm-up and were moving quickly towards climax. Tight drums, penetrating clean guitar riffs, and a good balance between tame, flowing melodies and crunchy, emotional breakdowns all contributed to a good first impression. In fact, the few songs that I saw made me slightly ashamed that I had only checked these guys out to such a minimal extent -- and not for lack of hearing good things.

The main attraction, the evolving and genre-transcending RX Bandits, took the stage in a fury of jam-addled lead guitar riffs and blurred drumming. I shit you not; Christopher Tsagakis plays his set so fast that he's nothing more than a blur. Matthew Embree's vocals pierced the musical chaos calmingly while Steve Choi's erratic ivory-tickling was certainly a sight (Choi switches often between playing guitar and keyboards mid-song).

The live chemistry this band has was everything it had been built up to for me; they took control of the crowd and rocked us straight through to the encore.

If I could do it again, I would. I would.

"Am I crazy because I want to touch your skin? / Is it ludicrous that I've got nothing to believe in / that was built by human hands or controlled by demand?"
- Matthew Embree, "...And the Battle Begun"

SPECIAL: Warped 2K8 - I Laughed, I Cried, I Moshed

You walk into the pounding sun and take it all in, the jagged rocks littering the hot concrete and the wall of sound hitting you from every side. Each tune that caresses or bombards your ears is unique. It's a land out of storybook lore; it's a legendary collection of all the most influential punk/pop-punk/hardcore bands of the last ten years; it's that time of year, time for the Vans Warped Tour, and it makes me feel like I'm in high school all over again.

This year's Warped Tour lineup was disappointing at first glance. The Chicago lineup boasted only a few bands with experience and industry cred; punk legends like Pennywise, Agent Orange, the Bouncing Souls, Fear, GBH, and the Germs were on other legs of the tour. Faced with a dismal reality, I was considering not attending this year for fear the tour had turned a big commercialized corner.

I decided to go anyway and cut ties for good if I'd been dragged into a big waste of time.

Boy, was I surprised.

I didn't get to the all-day festival until around 2 PM (being Saturday morning and all, I had to watch my cartoons). The schedule worked perfectly for the bands I wanted to see; unfortunately, a couple of notables that had been listed on the website were missing from the gigantic board: Protest the Hero and Forever the Sickest Kids.

The following is an attempt to recreate my day at the 2008 Vans Warped Tour.

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2:30 PM: Entered the gates. Proceeded directly to the beer line and ordered a drink. Received massive bucket of beer. Wandered to the big schedule board and planned the afternoon.

2:45 PM: Found the Hurley Stage, where Chicago suburban locals Dr. Manhattan were rocking the early afternoon heat. The guitarist was definitely wearing a pair of over-sized tighty-whities on top of his shorts. Listened to a couple of recognizable songs from their Victory Records debut.
Overall: 3 out of 5 stars.

3:00 PM: Made our way to one of the main stages, where Norma Jean had just begun a sonic onslaught of the still energetic throngs of eager hardcore kids. (Two bands later, the hardcore kids were skulking about, drenched in sweat and calling their parents for a ride home. (Just kidding.)). Norma Jean dominated the crowd for half an hour, delivering their own quirky brand of hardcore goodness with the momentum of their coming release, Anti Mother. I am no longer a Norma Jean virgin, and I'm happy to say that it was a pleasant experience for both of us.
Overall: 4 out of 5 stars.

3:30 PM: On our way to the Smartpunk Stage to check out Four Year Strong, a familiar ditty hit my eardrums hard. We proceeded to the closest stage, where Protest the Hero was half-way through rocking album-quality renditions from their most recent offering, Fortress, and informing the crowd of the recent beheading in Canada. For all the musical talent on the tiny stage, the energy just wasn't there on that scorching Saturday afternoon. Maybe it was due to the shock of playing on such a small stage or the fact that the sun's rays had a direct avenue to the band.
Either way, a disappointing: 3 out of 5 stars.

3:45 PM: We arrived at the Smartpunk Stage, where a riot had apparently broken out. Happy hardcore newcomers Four Year Strong were melting faces everywhere, causing an uproar in the crowd. Between the unparalleled energy the band was exuding on stage, the melodic vocals that were surprisingly flawless, and the ridiculous movement of the crowd, hardcore dancing and moshing their little faces off, the experience was simply incredible.
For that, they get: 5 out of 5 stars.

4:00 PM: Stood in line for another beer. Walked back to the Smartpunk Stage and watched a little bit of Evergreen Terrace on the stage next door. I was unimpressed, but I was only half paying attention, so I won't give them an official star rating.

4:30 PM: Set Your Goals took the Smartpunk Stage. The band did not disappoint. Although their partners in happy hardcore had taken the crowd to another level, SYG competed like champions, stirring the crowd to an even boil and bursting the bubbles at all the right places. A whirlwind of speed, melody, and positive thinking, SYG earned their keep.
Overall, 4 out of 5 stars.

5:00 PM: We had planned on checking out From First to Last, but ever since they lost Sonny, I've kinda lost interest. Walked by the main stage briefly and confirmed my suspicions. Checked out the tents and saw Norma Jean signing autographs. Got another beer.

6:00 PM: The sun was still shining and the beer was flowing and Gym Class Heroes, the quirkiest pick for Warped Tour (honest, they run in music circles that are far outside of their style), had just taken one of the main stages. Patrick Stump's pre-recorded vocals blasted forth beneath the unique lyrical stylings of GCH's Travis McCoy. They made me want to dance on a day dedicated to moshing. GCH don't disappoint, even after seeing them five times.
Overall: 4 out of 5 stars.

6:30 PM: There's something comforting about Reel Big Fish's refusal to quit amidst speculation that ska truly is dead. They're probably the reason I even started listening to underground music -- and it was all because they "sold out." I'm of course referring to the band's hit radio single, "Sell Out," because RBF is a band that has done anything but sell out. They've always played the same music, and they've always done it with a strict refusal to change. Between their hilarious, almost scripted, banter, they blasted out ska anthem after ska anthem, leaving this punk with a gracious smile on his face. Oh, they also inspired me to get another beer.
Overall: 4 out of 5 stars.

7:00 PM: I had the unfortunate and distinct pleasure of visiting the other main stage for the Angels and Airwaves set. Tom DeLonge's post-Blink attempt at creating something beautiful has fallen horribly, horribly flat amidst the hyped fanfare. There's just something depressing about a 32 year old man shouting "Poo poo!" and "Pee pee!" to an audience of recycled Blink 182 fans, most of whom are pushing 30 themselves, in between some of the most contrived and pretentious songs I've ever heard. Shame on you, Tom DeLonge. Take up a hobby that doesn't require human contact, like crocheting.
Overall: 1 and a half out of 5 stars.

7:40 PM: It was finally time for the band I'd been waiting all day to see, the band that has sprouted from the ashes of the pop-punk of olden days, the one, the only, Say Anything. We approached the main stage with the last of our energy and got ready to rock. But as soon as Max Bemis walked briskly out on stage on his own, I knew something was wrong. His scratchy voice explained that he was sick and unable to perform. I was about ready to pack up and head out disappointed, but he informed the crowd that other Warped Tour performing artists would be singing in his stead.

Each song of the set was sung by a different vocalist. It was pretty cool to see, although I would have rather had Max himself. Still, the concept was cool, and what really blew me away was how these singers knew the lyrics without referring to a lyric sheet. It was like watching legends pay tribute to the new bad boy in town.
The show still rocked, so: 4 and a half out of 5 stars.

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Just a last point before I end. Although Warped Tour has managed to block out most of the bands that were instrumental in forming it in the first place, they still make the shows, the bands, and the experience as accessible to the fans as it used to be (even if a sign at the Angels and Airwaves tent warned "DO NOT ask if the band is signing autographs today. They aren't and we don't know why.").

Bands I missed that I wanted to see: Cobra Starship, Forever the Sickest Kids, All That Remains, Street Dogs, The Academy Is..., Katy Perry (just kidding about that one, even though she was actually somehow on the tour, probably kissing every girl she saw). Oh, and we also saw MC Chris, aka MC Peepants from Aqua Teen Hunger Force. It was weird.

Summer rock. Word.

DISCLAIMER: This is the day how I remember it. Performance times are only as close to accurate as my memory is. Which is not very.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up / This is not a test."
- Underoath, "In Regards to Myself"