I Was A Young Menance: In Defense of Fall Out Boy's M A N I A
In a time where genre lines are blurring, we look for poppier tunage, why did we switch off M A N I A even with similar lyricism?
*Before we dive in, there are mentions of suicide, self-harm and mental illness. Please read with caution and take care.*
“Wow! I think you’re the first person I’ve seen rock a M A N I A back-patch!” I exclaimed over the loud pop-punk song that sounds like every other pop-punk song ever played.
Seeing someone who has the same love for an album, that seems unloveable to many, is similar to capturing a rare howler-monkey on film. (Any “Avatar: The Last Airbender” fans out there?) Especially that of a typically likable band. They’re the “sell-out’s” of pop-punk; creating family-friendly singles that appear in Disney movies or blare over ice rinks to support other hometown heroes in their quest for the cup. Therefore, anything veering away from their earliest works is a blatant abandonment of their sound as a whole.
Not quite.
“M A N I A” came out swinging, ready for a fight. The poppy-EDM album split FOB fans into a group of haters and ride-or-die-ers. A large departure from their OG sound of Pete Wentz screaming during angry-pulsating chords yet still consistent with not fully knowing what words Patrick Stump is singing. Regardless of the evolution of their sound, FOB still maintains impactful, pop-culture laden lyricism which those once-young misfits (and maybe still, so) find comfort in.
We experienced pop-rock collaborations with Coldplay and Beyoncé plus the largely praised “After Laughter” from pop-punk royalty Paramore, so what’s the difference when it comes to FOB?
“The trendy trop house vibes of ‘Hold Me Tight or Don’t’ also contain shades of the jittery neurotic intensity of an Elvis Costello cod reggae track.” Said Spin magazine music critic Al Shipley.
To be blunt: I’ve never listened to an Elvis Costello track before, but all I know if Nick Jonas likes him. My former radio station played him often so I’m deducing he’s a talented, practiced musician. However, knowing how “traditional” seasoned writers perceive rock music; no synth, rap, or otherwise, the updated sound of this song, or any from the album besides “Wilson (Expensive Mistakes)” and “Church,” doesn’t fit into that bland cookie mold. The lyrics, though, are still very old-school Fall Out Boy.
“And I'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke,
Spiritual revolt from the waist down,
From the waist down,
I'm just a full tank away from freedom” -Fall Out Boy, Bishop’s Knife Trick
We know Pete Wentz writes a large chunk of FOB’s lyrics. Everybody’s favorite hat-wearing singer, Patrick Stump said in a 2008 New York Times interview he “chiseled” at Wentz’s writings that he calls “beat poetry” to create a “hyper lyrical emotional heft”; an “Ornette Coleman with words.” To analyze past albums with longer titles, significant teen angst paired with the manifestation of being generally OK with oneself are the typical themes we find in their lyrics. The only thing that’s progressed is the sound.
Back to “Bishop’s Knife Trick” and Wentz: I did some good ole’ Google searching to find the lyrics and what the meaning behind the song is. Someone’s perception of a song varies based on their own experiences, plus if the artist in question has ever commented on the reasonings they have about it. Otherwise, it’s all up to our interpretation. An article is Us For Once magazine works to breakdown, line-by-line, what story, emotions are being portrayed:
“ … a song so deeply beautiful that’s hidden in plain sight, a song inspired by lyricist Pete Wentz’s battle with mental illness/bipolar disorder, the Best Buy incident, and the fans that have stuck around for all these years.” -Lexy Bouras, Us For Once magazine
*We begin to dive into talks of suicide, mental illness, and self-harm. Please skip ahead if these may be triggering to you. Take care of yourself.*
Wentz has spoken candidly about his battle with mental illness. In a 2018 People magazine article, he shared that a routine has helped him in finding a balance in life; after the announcement of FOB’s hiatus in 2009, his depression worsened, in 2011 he and Ashlee Simpson divorced. The “Best Buy incident” relates to a suicide attempt by Wentz sometime in the early 2000s. NME reported that Wentz had taken a depression drug in an attempt, called his manager who ultimately called his mom to get him from the parking lot of a Best Buy to get him treatment.
Within a genre which is heavily derived from pre-existing emotions, trauma, bouts in relationships, whatever discourse someone may experience; which allows for internal wreckage of the soul, heart and fleeting thoughts to trigger a fight or flight response, in some cases, to frantically searching for a light that may never flicker, these types of lyrics, backstory, writings, are comforting. Now, there are critics about listening to sad music to make someone feel better, or moreover to feel heard, accepted at the moment. During the height of the pop-punk/emo wave in the early-mid 2000s, the accusations of “glamourizing suicide” came about when a My Chemical Romance fan, Hannah Bond, completed suicide. Her mother attributes the band with their dark presentation as an influence on her death. MCR publicly stated they are saddened for the loss but they are anti-suicide and anti-violence.
Recently, an academic study concerning death culture among Czech teens who reside within the emo subculture (or as they write it as EMO) looks at their perception of death, self-harm, friendships, and other stereotypes projected from the sub-culture.
The qualitative study conducted by Radek Trnka, P.h.D. argues that many “EMO teens” are fine with suicide, self-harm idealization in “extreme” circumstances, while likening it almost to a cult in his conclusion: “... it is not clear how strong the influence of EMO peers on attitudes of newcomers joining the EMO subculture is.” There is an overwhelming statement made though, which I do agree with; being, those who have experienced trauma like abuse, more often than not, will indulge with this type of music. While this study was conducted in another country, in 2018, it is noted that more information about the psychological impact lyrics in these songs on “EMO” teens: “We hypothesize that listening to the lyrics of EMO music may potentially elicit feelings of alienation, pessimism or hopelessness…”
While I heavily disagree with the overall findings of this study based on personal experience and other observations of being in this culture for nearly half of my life, and friends with others in the same venue as I, the end of the discussion, for now, rounds us back to lyricism. The words that we derive, imprint on which gives us comfort in times when perhaps, no one else can do so. Relating to my previous newsletter about my experience with Death and MCR: while the context of these songs can be perceived as violent, depressing, anxious - whatever negative verbiage that can be attached to it - there isn’t inherent malice behind it. Those artists producing the music are also coming from a home of pain, fear - emotions that they may also have no way of expressing other than through music. In turn, music listeners, emo, indie, normie what-have-you, want to hear that content to understand themselves, feel understood, belonged, comforted, held. It’s not abnormal to have sad lyrics and it is not an inherent correlation towards suicide/self-harm, is the TL;DR of this.
This was stirred up by seeing a tweet by a libertarian, ring-wing news writer:
First, I had no idea who this person was. I assume he is the owner of Summit News, which, I also looked into for their media bias when it comes to their news reporting.
Pro tip folx: if there is wording that sounds skewed, for example, on their site, one of the headlines reads, “Wuhan Lab Complains It Is Being Scapegoated For Coronavirus Spread,” then that is biased reporting based on specific wording and language.
So, it’s safe to assume that someone who reports biased, “fake news” will result in a very bad take.
Many people disagreed with this comment and included their reasons to why this type of music helps them:
Last year, a study was conducted about poppy, upbeat sounding music with mismatched lyrics. Researchers start in the ‘50s and run through 2019, where they analyzed each song through a rating system of joy through some insane math calculations that I would never be able to complete, nor fully understand, and were shocked by their findings:
“Expressions of anger and disgust roughly doubled over those 65 years, for instance, while fear increased by more than 50%. Remarkably, today’s songs are even more aggressive and fearful than in punk’s heyday. One probable reason for this is the growing influence of rap music, which, like punk, has reflected social unrest and feelings of disenfranchisement. Sadness, meanwhile, remained stable until the 80s, then steadily increased until the early 2010s, while joy, confidence, and openness all steadily declined.” -David Robson, “Is pop music really getting sadder and angrier?”
Big Ol’ NO DUH, here.
As we have seen from not only the year of our probable destruction as a society, 2020, but in the last few decades, there have been significant changes to infrastructure, power, politics, civil unrest; pretty much everything has been progressing towards change through “typical” actions like going through the courts or government, or through actions which ignite good trouble. Music developed as such due to the environment we were begrudgingly thrown into without flotation devices, and being told to “just float and paddle, you’ll be fine!”
Needless to say, the Kids Aren’t Alright; but they’re doing something about it, with a great playlist, too.
“Lyrical depression and feel-good music have always been natural partners,” says Variety magazine writer, Chris Willman, concerning his 2018 review of M A N I A. The natural partnership between these divergent moods makes sense for a generation of young adults who want to party yet experience a heavy side effect of existential dread thanks to the long-time prescribed doctrine of out-dated, oppressive ideologies.
In a beautiful dark, twisted way: it gives us comfort.
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“Young and Menace” is a song that should never be played live.
Their first attempt was at their Chicago House of Blues show. It was awkward for everyone. At Wrigley Field a year later, it was done with just Stump with an acoustic guitar. It was fine but didn’t have the same energy. There is no way to enjoy this song outside of your BlueTooth headphones unless the pop-punk/emo scene declares techno-emo (like techno-goth) a thing. Regardless of this, it’s one of my favorite songs from this album. It’s greatly frowned upon similarly to how many misfits were, or still are, from their peers for going against the norm; ironic. The album came out during my final year in college undergrad. The successes I had made a shocked family, old friends, myself simply because no one anticipated I would make it past high school. I almost didn’t graduate. Smearing comments drifted from mouths about my mental abilities, how socially inept I was, my lack of ambition; there was no real believing backing force to my educational career. Yet, somehow, I made it through the final turns, just a few feet from the finish line with a decent GPA, running a college station, respect from my peers, friends, professors, music industry professionals, and graduating top of my major. In turn, the theme for my graduation photo’s was “M A N I A.”
It all sounds like a humble, not-really humble brag. I guess it is? Fully grasping the amount of work I have done, with great feedback, surprises me. I still question if I often deserve it. When I heard “we’ve gone way too fast for way too long, and we were never supposed to make it half this far,” I felt recognized. Growing up sucked. Trauma was encountered in a cycle similar to Groundhog Day; coaxed to minute events within my mind when it should be amplified. There was no positive psychic vision to the outcomes, but it was altered. Reflection upon my adolescence through the artifact of music, especially that of one of the “worst” albums out of the rock music scene that year, mirrors the theory of being an outlier a stone’s throw from normality.
Willman acknowledges that “Champion” isn’t the great Blackhawks Hockey anthem-like “Centuries.” “Wilson (Expensive Mistakes)” comes off “… as a carefree sing-along, not a black-clad goth excursion, and the album, in general, feels pretty cheerful, even withstanding lines like, “My head is stripped just like a screw that’s been tightened too many times.”
Yes, we all miss the “old” FOB sounds of Wentz screaming in the background, the outpouring hatred of a sordid ex-lover, coming-of-age anthems that exude nostalgia for space never visited. Yet, M A N I A carries other themes their older works possess when it comes to reflection on your past self, progressing forward intertwined with the anxiety and massive uncertainty sewn together. Sure; they could've stayed on the typical rock hype train as Shipley suggests: “But in their restless quest to achieve pop immortality and piss off punk purists, they should remember that classic rock grandeur does the trick just as well as a dance beat.” But then we would’ve heard the same ol’ album’s on repeat with no character development.
Realistically, that isn’t very FOB or punk, at the end of the day.
Excavating your brand, who you want to morph into, requires stepping out of your restricted zone to flourish through hazards tiny and gigantic. Using music as a vehicle to carry us down that path, or fly us over objectives makes for a more indulgent adventure. Doing what you want to do for your betterment, is very up the punx.
“If the band ever decides to keep writing about that kind of angst while just fully turning on the AC [Adult Contemporary], that might really be punk-rock.” -Chris Willman, Variety