Introduction
What the fuck is emo?
This is a question that many have agonized over and continue to agonize over. Most of the bands that have been canonized as emo don’t claim the term and, even better, don’t even know what it means. So how am I to write a complete and compelling history of emo music when half of the heroes of the genre spend their time pointing fingers at someone else and saying, “Our band wasn’t emo, that band was emo”?
“You set yourself a challenging task,” Chris Simpson, the vocalist and guitarist of Mineral, said to me.
Indeed I have, which is why what you are about to read is as much a comedy of errors as it is a serious attempt to encapsulate a time in rock history for posterity. But through all of this confusion, what I have concluded is that nobody can agree on one definition of emo because there is no single definition; rather, there are multiple.
The first wave of emo influencers in the mid 1980s and the bands that followed in the mid-to-late ‘90s weren’t emo in the same way that mainstream music listeners think of bands such as My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, or Panic! At the Disco (who are actually more alternative, pop rock, or indie in terms of sound). That’s because the meaning of the word has shifted and has remained ambiguous over time. From Rites of Spring to The Promise Ring to American Football to Sunny Day Real Estate to Jimmy Eat World, the word “emo” has amassed quite a reputation. The soundscapes bands such as these created the musical elements that would soon be classified as emo: personal and vulnerable lyrics, a combination of the edginess of punk and hardcore with pop sensibilities and catchy melodies, and variations in tone and tempo from slow, minimalistic, and melancholic to aggressive, upbeat, and whiny (in the best possible way, of course).
At the turn of the millennium, bands like Brand New and Taking Back Sunday took the basics of ‘90s emo and developed more of a flair for the dramatic. This new kind of emo developed a style, as does almost any genre, from hip-hop to heavy metal. Increasingly, emo became known as a fashion and lifestyle choice. The emphasis on this new visual aesthetic is what ultimately broke through to mainstream music and television. My Chemical Romance would become the poster boys for the mainstream’s vision of emo, when, really, this was the turning point that many earlier emo bands point to as the downfall of the genre.
Then there is simply the word itself: “emo,” short for “emotional.” This may be the most confusing point of all, for what kind of decent music is not emotional? What kind of good jazz or punk or classical music does not make the listener feel something? Music is inherently emotional. Yet, there was something about this set of sounds and this set of bands during this set of years that warranted the name more than any other.
It is the purpose of this book to discover what that something is. What was it that made emo so popular, yet so open to ridicule? What was it about emo that had fans claiming it saved their lives? This book aims to give as extensive and thorough answers to these questions as possible. It also aims to make the point that this genre is worth such an effort to portray in its entirety, for there are many who don’t think emo is a substantial enough genre to earn a place in rock history. In fact, as I type this, spellcheck insists with its red dotted lines that there is no such word as “emo.” So fuck whoever thinks they are too good for this. Fuck the pretentious critics and the computer software that don’t recognize the emo movement and its significance.
Emo is significant. It is significant because of every girl in a Get Up Kids T-shirt and every boy who broke up with her. It is significant because of the bonds it made and the suicidal hands it stayed. It is significant not only for the way it sounded, but also for the way it made us feel. And ultimately, it is most significant to the current culture of openness about mental health, as it aids us to connect with one another at last.
Chapter 1
Look Back & Laugh,
a.k.a. Where Emo Came From
When I was thirteen years old, my best friend’s older brother played in a band called Eastbound. The year was 2006, and they were doing something no one else in our quiet New Jersey suburb was doing. I had never heard this kind of rock music before; it was fast and loud and forceful, but it was also catchy, with a voice that sounded almost gentle. When I saw them play a show for the first time, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Each member was jumping and moving around the stage like they had never had more fun in their lives. Even the drummer was barely in his seat. They were opening themselves up completely and unapologetically for everyone to see. I remember thinking, “This is the coolest thing I have ever seen.” I had just begun to discover what this thing, that would later be called “emo,” really was.
Now, Eastbound wasn’t emo per se, but they were definitely influenced by bands that were, especially since the siblings’ cousin happened to be Matt Rubano, the then bassist for the Long Island-based emo frontrunner, Taking Back Sunday. The first TBS song they showed me was “A Decade Under the Influence,” which I then played over and over again on my first generation green iPod Mini. (Remember when iPods had black and white screens?) Then they started telling me about other bands, such as The Early November, Midtown, The Get Up Kids, and Jimmy Eat World. From there, I began my own research into screamo bands such as Senses Fail and Thursday and plunged into the rabbit holes of Myspace, PureVolume, and Limewire. It wasn’t until much later, though, that I realized that I was coming of age in a hot zone (a.k.a. the Garden State) for what would ultimately be classified by its proponents as a musical movement.
But emo didn’t start with me and my story. In fact, many of the people I’ve interviewed say the first seeds of the genre were planted in the mid-to-late 1980s by Dischord Records bands such as Fugazi, Embrace, and Rites of Spring.
“The first wave of emo was born from hardcore and post-hardcore music,” explains Ethan Fixell, US executive director of Kerrang!. “In 1985–86, you had DC Dischord bands like Rites of Spring, Embrace, Gray Matter, and Dag Nasty all coming from the hardcore scene and pushing the boundaries of what it meant to be a part of that world. Their music was slower, more melodic, and simply less aggressive than that which they’d been producing previously in bands like Minor Threat or S.O.A., for example.”
“I grew up on Rites of Spring and Dag Nasty and Embrace,” attests Eddie Reyes, founder and former guitarist for Taking Back Sunday.
“Embrace was a massive reason that we became a melodic band with singable melodies,” explains Chris Conley, vocalist and guitarist of Saves The Day. “We loved Minor Threat. They sounded like Bad Brains, and they were just so raw and aggressive and powerful, and then [Ian MacKaye] starts Embrace and that record was so important. If anybody out there that’s reading this has not heard that Embrace record, you have to go out and get it today. That was a massive reason why all the bands in that era sounded like they sounded. It was so much of Embrace. They were beautiful and sad and melodic and cool.”
Fred Mascherino: “I really liked Fugazi. Their ethics were so up here. (Motions above his head.)”
“I learned how to write lyrics by listening to Fugazi,” says Matt Pryor, vocalist and guitarist of The Get Up Kids. “They would always write really abstract lyrics about really specific things. I kind of took that approach.”
It may seem counterintuitive that the vulnerability and melody for which emo became known actually stems partially from one of the biggest icons in hardcore, Ian MacKaye, cofounder of Dischord, as well as vocalist for Embrace, Fugazi, Minor Threat, and Teen Idles. But, upon closer examination, we can see the first breadcrumbs of emo in Minor Threat songs, even though he still, for the life of him, can’t tell you what emo music is or why he’s relevant to it. (Chris Conley: “Oh, give me a break. That’s just silly.”)
“People