The Rise and Fall of Emotion-Wave

Through my formative years it seemed like music was getting more and more emotional, completely out of control.  It affected so many different styles of music and I thought it would never end.  I was born in 1987, and I would say this lasted at least from 1988 to 2005.  I have been wanting to address this topic for a while now and I have the outline a bit clearer now.  I will be pretty harsh on a lot of artists, though some of them I actually like to some extent.  After all, music should be emotional... but there is a limit.  I remember one day in Summer 2005 when that limit was reached, and not just in my opinion.

(The opposite effect, with the shift from the likes of The Smiths and the Cure to the anti-grunge of Britpop was considered as part of this article, but then I remembered that British music hasn't been worth writing about in almost 20 years.)

Part I:  Forming

It can be hard to point out where this all began.  The most obvious argument is the rise of grunge as it is one of those few movements to affect the mainstream and the underground equally.  This is understandable, especially with songs like "Jeremy" being some of the biggest hits of the era.  However, if you look at Nevermind it's pretty balanced emotionally.  It's much more emotional than Poison which was a change for sure, but feelings weren't everything.

Now take how the ultimate - and worst - party band, The Red Hot Chili Peppers breaks out of the marginalized thrash-funk scene and into every home with "Under The Bridge."  When the band who recorded "Party on Your Pussy" and "Fight Like a Brave" has a hit like that, there is no doubt the trend is already in motion.  Another massive 1991 hit that bridges the gap in mainstream and underground rock is "Losing My Religion," by R.E.M..  This song can't be ignored, and is certainly a far cry from "Dr. Feelgood," but actually the rise of underground rock had little to do with the change of pace, it was merely in the right place at the right time.  After all, this is the music that evolved from The Butthole Surfers, Meat Puppets, and Beat Happening.  Additionally, Hüsker Dü's move to the majors did little to intensify the emotion of American rock music.

Dü's, and to a lesser extent, The Replacement's, attempts to reach the mainstream with their emotional brand of American Underground mirrors the actual truth in the larger shift as it was metal's change of mood that really did it.  Perhaps it was the death of this guy...

Cliff Burton, metal skuzz.

His death brought it on, but Metallica's album ...And Justice For All, particularly the hit single "One" that brought the often macho (mainstream), often snarky and ironic (underground), rock scene to weepy boy intensity.  This propelled Metallica into a snowballing success that only grew with their self-titled album highlighted by the hits "The Unforgiven" and "Nothing Else Matters."  When America accepted "sensitive" metal heads it opened the floodgates for all kinds of emotional masturbation in rock music.  If Metallica is not enough of an example, just look at the roughly 140 minutes that make up Guns 'N' Roses' Use Your Illusion project.  "November Rain" was another smash, but it's not the only heartbreaking epic and Axl Rose's sensitive balladeer persona predates even Eddie Vedder's, though hailing from the world seemingly least likely to embrace it.

Part II:  Eddie Vedder Syndrome

Sure, Nevermind had its moments like "Lithium" and "On a Plain," but no one would deny that humor and irony were a huge part of what made Kurt Cobain great.  Not so with San Diego transplant Eddie Vedder.  If you're looking for comedy in Pearl Jam, your search will conclude with Jeff Ament's hat collection.

I believe, there is no need for me to dissect Pearl Jam's debut and its lyrical focus on incest, school shootings, and schizophrenia, or even talk about how intense Vedder is all the time, or even more how - despite what I will say at the conclusion of this article his Ukulele Songs album might actually be the peak of this wave.  What I do need to reinforce is that all these songs, most significantly "Black," were rock radio staples of the era.  Any savvy aspiring rock star aiming to be as big as Zeppelin while playing venues like the Viper Room and the Roxy could tell which way the wind was blowing and quickly dropped songs like "Unskinny Bop" and "Girls, Girls, Girls," in favor of "Counting Blue Cars" and "Sister."

If you were playing rock in the 90s, got airplay, and still sucked you could bet your singer was imitating Vedder, in both vocals and lyrics.  I could go on and on about the kind of dreck that was perpetrated by bands like Seven Mary Three (now country), Days of the New (do you even remember?) and Collective Soul... but I'll keep it to Everclear and Creed.

Though not as much influenced by Pearl Jam, Everclear was the ultimate post-grunge band.  They had the roots in the Northwest and even a sense of humor, but frontman Art Alexakis built his whole image on his willingness to discuss his daddy issues.  While no fan of fathers myself, it is a well-known fact that nothing is less inspired than discussing this topic exclusively.  The fact that America allowed this approach (which was even more repetitive in sound than in subject matter) proved not only that the rock audience was incredibly accepting of this over-emotional garbage, but that it was starving for more and more.

And that is exactly what we got with the Tallahassee, Florida band Creed.  If you are unaware, Creed's first album, which made up a huge portion of every "edge station" playlist for 1998, looks like this:

Creed - My Own Prison (1997)

It sounds like that too: a man standing in a fetal position in an abandoned house with no shirt on.  He is wearing shoes, though.  I'll spare everyone else the reminder of what this album, and its follow-ups Human Clay and Weathered sounded like, but this ungodly quartet brought Praisefest intensity to the inescapable masses.  If the most pompous, tattooed junior pastor in the world put all his holy energy and limited intelligence into imitating Eddie Vedder it would sound almost this bad - and almost as emotional.  No matter what bassist Brian Marshall says, it's not as good as Pearl Jam.

I wish my article ended here.

Part III:  No One Is Safe

This is all rock, alt rock for rock fans who love Pearl Jam and believe that sensitivity is a good thing, that it is okay for a man to cry, for a man to stick up for women's rights.  It was the 90s and it had its good points.

Woodstock 99 would paint the picture of a different kind of audience:  destructive, misogynistic, and just plain dangerous with their Family Values Tours and their - you guessed it!  Anger Management Tours.

So let us not forget that anger is a valid emotion as we look at how nü-metal and Eminem were no less a part of this trend than Thursday and Connor Oberst.  Similar to post-grunge I will keep it simple and not pontificate about the heart-wrenching rap-rock of P.O.D., or talk about how even Limp Bizkit released "Rearranged."   I won't even go on about the existence of Linkin Park, but in this case only because it has already been done so well here, or maybe I'll place them in the emo section.  They have more in common with those bands anyway.  So instead I'll focus on the leaders: Korn and Eminem.

To keep things chronological, I'll start with the Bakersfield quintet.  Like all the others in this subsection, anger is their principle emotion.  However, the band's tendency to remain deliberately serious keeps it more consistently emotional than "The Nookie" or "Break Stuff."  I don't need to give much evidence other than these images:

1999

and of course, their video that graphically depicts domestic abuse:

...hard to believe that happened, isn't it?

So, as rap rock became as emotional as the wussies its fans take pride in terrorizing, the natural next step was hip-hop itself - just in time for the arrival of the most legendary white rapper of all time.

While Eminem's sense of humor and endorsement from Dr. Dre may have broken him to the world with hits like "My Name Is" and "Role Model," it was a shock when his follow-up arrived looking like this:

The album containing "The Real Slim Shady"

This album was, and still is, heralded as a masterpiece.  But, this reputation is built less on the MC's ability to rhyme in a creative rhythm or the musicianship of the production, but rather its bludgeoning emotional force.  In true fashion of the times its aggressive, violent emotions are balanced with tracks of a weepier tone, subjecting yet another audience to the belief that artistry is defined by full-frontal emotional nudity.  It would not be the last time a Michigan artist would build his reputation this way.

Part IV:  Short For "Emotional"

Hip-hop is not for everybody, and at the turn of the millennium bands like Creed and the Foo Fighters weren't gut-wrenching enough for a mainstream rock audience that wanted song like "The Way I Am," but with some guitars and harmonies.  That's when Emo stepped in.

I don't have to go through the whole story of Emo that began in the 80s in Washington, DC, then traveled to the other Washington with Sunny Day Real Estate, and then invented itself again with Weezer's Pinkerton a whole five years before the not-particularly-emotional Jimmy Eat World started scoring mislabeled hits.  I don't have to because it's not worthy.  It's only worthy of one sentence.  A run-on sentence, at that.

The real story began a few months later when no teenager in America could escape Dashboard Confessional and "Screaming Infidelities," because somehow many of their peers loved it.  Then there was Thursday, Saves the Day, Taking Back Sunday and so many more.  As rock's popularity continued to wane nu-metal was out, and garage-revival proved unable to connect for long.  By 2003 success was hopeless if you did not jump on the emo bandwagon.  Far removed bands like pop-punk brats Sum 41 rode the wave with "Still Waiting" and fantasy prog-nerds Coheed and Cambria owe their whole career to the emo label.  Before long emo, and its offshoot screamo, became an enduring subculture that has become one of the most maligned globally.  In the US circa 2002, though, it was just the norm.  Even the jocks rocked out to Finch, and even goofballs who knew better were still getting floppy haircuts because it was the only way to get girls.

Emo male

Emo female

The look of emo became synonymous with the music and seeing it let the spectator make no mistake about a person's likelihood to express excessive emotion at any time.  This fashion allowed the intense feeling of the time to manifest itself beyond the radio and MTV and into the public eye wherever the affected went.  In other words, full cultural penetration.  The good part was that any savvy observer would know the breaking point was on its way.

Part V:  Emotion Beyond Comprehension

The militant hardcore types may argue for a clearer and narrower definition of emo, but many, including its fans, saw it in vaguer terms.  Most often these terms included Bright Eyes.  Sometimes, they even included Elliott Smith.  Anyone with an ear for music would be unable to hear what musically these artists had in common with My Chemical Romance or Cursive, or even Mineral, but they certainly fit in line with my argument.

After all, Elliott Smith did commit a very brutal suicide in 2003 after creating the final word in sad music, the works that all sad music shall be compared to for the rest of time.  As for Bright Eyes, he sounded like this in 2005 and I think that keeps with the gradual increase.

Another album came out in 2005 though, one that may have made a bigger impact than any artist I have mentioned after Eminem.  After several records featuring both avante-garde experimentation and a more symphonic take on the Elliott Smith sound, Sufjan Stevens broke into the greater consciousness with Come On Feel the Illinoise, a record as torturously long as the titles to most of its tracks.  His banjo may have charmed some folkier cuts like "Decatur," but this 74-minute album revolves around the most uninspired dreck to pull at the naive heartstrings of college freshmen.  Look no further than the autotune of "John Wayne Gacy Jr." and the half-assed sad childhood lyrics of both of the aforementioned songs to remember how bad it got.  About a year later he released an even longer album of outtakes.  People also loved that.

In truth, the emotional content of the album may not be much worse than its predecessors, but its breakthrough represents the peak of this miserable wave.  In 2005, the coolest thing a sap with a guitar could do was cover "Romulus" or "The Dress Looks Nice On You," and many of those people heard this album first.  Plus "Chicago" is utter garbage.  No one wants a world like that, and living in it exclusively was no fun.

Part VI:  The End?

At least it ended there.  Though Stevens' next album debuted at number 7, it was a real change of pace and his angel-winged figure has not been as visible since "Chicago" became a staple for movie trailers.

Around the same time a new wave of Canadian bands took over the "indie" rock fan base that the previously-mentioned singer-songwriters enjoyed.  Unfortunately Arcade Fire was one of them and this mysteriously-acclaimed (I still can't forgive Bowie) band took over where this movement left off.  We all know what happened next when it comes to this group, but even with enough members to be several groups, they are just one... and even I will admit the lyrics are better.

The indie rock audience remained fickle and went through many phases including animal bands, chillwave, and seapunk, along with so many other sounds.  By now, nothing can be clearly defined, and most will tell you that Sufjan Stevens, The Arcade Fire, and anyone else with more emotion than Deerhunter just isn't cool.

But then again, not everyone is a hipster.  Some people listen to the radio, and gone are all the artists mentioned above, gone is a pop star's need to compete with a heartfelt semi-underground, and it doesn't even seem like Eminem is all that angry anymore.  But, there is one final point about this era and that is, of course, Kanye West.

Clearly, West is a troubled guy and does not have any hesitation when it comes to talking about it.  Why should he?  He's just one man.  But where did it all begin?  He became a household name right at the peak of this emotional movement and some of the most talked-about tracks were "Through the Wire" and "Last Call."  The former is a literally pained vocal not unlike the worst of screamo, and the latter an intense life story - more similar to Elliott Smith than ghetto noir.  Would West have broken through so easily at this time with anything else, such as an album comprised exclusively of his lighter tracks?  I would argue that his rise would have been a little less meteoric.

With so much fanfare surrounding the rise of this movement, it is surprising to see how few noticed when it went away.  The reasons why it happened are as nebulous as its disappearance and therefore it is nearly impossible to predict if it will ever happen again.  Even though many of these artists and their fans got carried away at times, there are worse things that could happen, but I'm still glad it's over.

Roots, part 12: Shooting Stars

Most likely this is the end of the series, and so far it may be the most important.  No, it's not really related to anything I'm doing now, it doesn't have any of the familiar characters, it doesn't even amass any great talent like BATWÖLF.  In fact, it was far from my band.

What is so special about Shooting Stars is that they are the oldest.  Xyster (whose material will probably never surface) was barely even a thing at this point.  I believe that Tommy Holden, Adrian Ricelli, Aidan, and myself had only played all together once at this point.

It was July 2001 in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania.  I was in my first week of the legendary Summer Music Programs in a "misfit band" that I decline to name and discuss in detail, mostly because it was just lame kid stuff - nothing interesting, offensive, or competent.  The three boys (not even one girl that week in the overnight program) were not on the same wavelength musically and it seemed like few others were.  That was, until I met Shooting Stars.

They kept to themselves as they had all come together.  Two of the oldest - Chris Ott and Emilio Rovello, and one of the youngest - Johnny Ott, students at the program.  I sat with them one day at lunch and we connected over love of the B-52s, Ramones, and many other hip artists.  My band didn't appreciate this desertion, but I didn't care.  I learned that these three were the only kids in the program for all three weeks, they had traveled unaccompanied via train from Stamford, CT, and had rented all their gear.  None of them had any experience playing music, even on their own, until that summer.

Of course that put off other students, but I knew that training had nothing to do with making music. These three had no boundaries in the music they loved.  They were some of the only people there who liked hip-hop, they liked punk, and ska, and psychedlia, and experimental rock, and even jam bands - even though they couldn't see how anyone would listen to that exclusively.  It was liberating coming from an enviroment full of very close-minded music fans.  They were open to anything but Weezer.  Despite being thrown into their guitar, bass, and drums and having to sing at the same time they managed to make a big splash on the scene their first week.  Their key composition "Current C#" with its infectious reggae-inspired groove became the best remembered song in that program's history.  No joke.  Instructors would be playing this catchy tune for years afterward.

So, with it apparent that these were the koolest cats in Bryn Mawr I asked Chet, the leader of this fine institution if I could join Shooting Stars despite there already being a bass player.  Luckily it was allowed and that Friday night I became another Shooting Star.  On Monday we were given a slightly hippie-ish instructor named Josh and we went to work on the next EP.  Josh was pretty helpful despite being in over his head and he more than anything was there for an extra skilled hand as the four young musicians swapped instruments and made Summer Music Programs history.  Here is the evidence:

Back and front cover, featututing the barely visible typo from our designer.

These are thanks you's that are hard to read, and most are not that important, mostly obvious.  There's a lot of thanks to the Sage Dining Service and their gruff employee Tyone Ellis and no hanks to Weezer and The Bon.  Also thanked are Pooch, the "industry insider" that would speak at Summer Music Programs for many years, and "bitch on wheels" which was a catchphrase of that week.

Inside artwork, taken from a fun and immature afternoon with Hayden Wright.
That's us in tennis skirts.  Shame Emilio was cut from that image, he cross-dressed too.

Back cover starring Johnny Ott.

The EP kicks off with "Music,"young (12) Johnny's original, which despite being sung from a drummer's perspective features Chris on drums playing some really cool awkward-length fills (on purpose).  It features Josh on Chris's role of guitar and is the only song with two basses.  It's pretty cute.

Next is my vocal spotlight "Now I wanna Sniff Some Glue" which we had to change to "snip" some glue, if you can even tell.  It's kinda ruined by the high, snappy snare that EVERYONE had to use on that trip to the studio, but also established me as "the Ramones guy" for many years at the program, almost more than I wanted.  For the sake of extension, we added a solo that Chris made real weird.

Then things really move into our unique territory with "61 Cans on the Wall/The Bon" which, of course, was mixed up on the CD.  This was a loose, reggae-inspired jam, with hippy-dippy rap lyrics a la De La Soul from Chris and Emilio.  The tracks features myself and Josh on piano, but no need to mention that - it's mentioned in the improvised lyrics towards the end.  Chris gets really weird on guitar on this track, further showing how willing this group was to just have fun and be weird.  At the end we go into the noise breakdown "The Bon" - a noisy punk attack with all four of us shouting out the memories from the week, largely about Tyrone Ellis and "Johnny Dinglehopper." Johnny Ott's screams my be my favorite part.

Ending it is the six and a half minute instrumental "Twisted Symphony" which really foreshadowed just about everything I have done with music since.  Chris Ott gets even weirder with his guitar parts and he and Josh overdubbed some pretty weird sounds.  Emilio is on keyboards, and I play a repetitive bass drone.  On the rhythm track josh lended an extra set of hands on drums.

I will admit it can be a rough listen at times, but far less than Chronic Insurgence.  If you want to hear a bunch of kids who love music and hate rules and conformity here it is.  I have never had more fun recording in my life and when I hear this all the memories come back.  You can hear some of these tracks and realize that I really haven't changed in the 12 years since making this.  Shooting Stars was a rare band, especially this week.  We genuinely liked each other and shared a lot of vision.  Never gain would Summer Music Programs have a band go into a professional studio and just jam and mess around.  Just listen for yourself, you will be glad you did because there is nothing else like it.  Maybe the Shaggs, but I think it's a lot easier of a listen!

DOWNLOAD:  Shooting Stars - Politically Correct (2001)

Roots, Part 11: Chronic Insurgence

Here's the real star of the day.  I promised a nü-metal song featuring myself and Aidan and that is one of the high points here.  It's an odd story, for sure.

So, the week before, Aidan and I were on our own and as the Popes, created Shabazz!.  The next week was a different story as we were thrown into the "misfit band."  That got off to a real bad start as that Friday we met our drummer, a preppy redneck with no talent, knowledge, or taste.  He was named Chuck.  Just overall one of the most terrible people I ever met and a constant sore in all of our sides that on numerous occasions almost came to blows.  The four other members could all say they "almost killed him," as did nearly everyone on the staff.

Next we met our self-imposed frontman.  First, I should say that as a good citizen who got to do whatever he wanted the week before, I let this clown have his way a bit, plus he was a lot better than Chuck.  The fact that this guy, Josh had blue hair, wore all black - juggalo pants and sleeveless tees, and dog collars exclusively, was from Chicago, and was convinced he was the smartest person on Earth should show just how awful Chuck was.  Obviously he played a B.C. Rich.

Last arrived our bassist.  He was a nice guy from Rochester named Kevin and was your typical bass geek.  You know, the kind of person with a chin beard who wants to tell you how great Big Dumb Face is.  He, of course, played a 5-string, which was still the least offensive ax not owned by a McEneaney.  This left me playing a different instrument all week - usually my Explorer.

That Monday, the five of us began this miserable musical exploration.  Five days later, watergun outlet emerged and here is the evidence.

The inside, featuring all five members in front of tires surrounded by chainlink fence:
Uno (Christopher McEneaney) on guitar and bass, Gorak (Aidan McEneaney) on guitar, Qev (Kevin) on bass, Josh, who proudly announces that he is Satan on guitar and vocals, and Chuck Daddy on drums.

The back and front cover.
To the left we are in Satan's room.  We thought it would be funny, and it is.  The right is the cover designed by Satan which he loved to remind us was not the same as the Quake logo.  The scan never worked, and I don't care because this is fucking stupid.

Here's the back cover (GET IT?!?) which segues into further explanation...

Our tracklist was as odd as the membership.

We began with "Just Like Honey," which I sang, and thankfully did not play guitar on - two was bad enough.  I can't listen to this version of the song, because I can't stand my own voice, especially at 15, but I'll mention that this is my mom's favorite recording ever.  Funny story, when we practiced it, Aidan naturally turned his distortion all the way up.  Satan told him not to because "it's a soft song."  Keep in mind in addition to him knowing nothing of good music just chooses to ignore the fact that Aidan was familiar with the original song.

"Sunday Bloody Sunday" was an odd choice too, just showing what a "compromise" amongst this group means. In rehearsals we would have a fairly interesting noise breakdown that unfortunately was not recreated in the studio.  Still funny on the CD, though.

"My Atonement," as should be obvious by now, was the aforementioned nu-metal track.  It may outdo "Wait and Bleed" as the nu-metal song I find most enjoyable due to my participation and the laughter it induces.  Naturally, this song has the best use of Qev's fifth string, and on the verses the sound of the three guitars palm muted is a truly rare sound.  It's so bad though, I think this would be funny to anyone, especially as the metal vocals nowadays sound like a really horrible Louis Armstrong impression.  It includes consecutive solos by Aidan and Satan, and it is very easy to tell which is which - one is tasteful and simple, while other sound like a reject from an unrelated Dream Theater song.  It speaks for itself, so give it a listen! 

Unlisted is, "Mirror In the Bathroom."  Originally by The (English) Beat, the song was butchered by Fifi on the SLC Punk soundtrack then THAT version was re-butchered by this band.

Overall this is a horrible recording, though one that is enjoyable for being so horrible.  It seriously is worth a good laugh, but perhaps, unlike The Power of Rawk only once.  Firstly some people in this band, mostly Chuck, lack proficiency on their instruments while others, mostly Satan, want to get a showy as possible.  There are three guitarists and everyone has completely different taste in music, so coupled with belligerence, bad ears, and ego there are no dynamics at all, and it's all very busy.

If you dare, here is Chronic Insurgence - watergun outlet (2002) for your listening pleasure.

Tomorrow, or perhaps Thursday, Shooting Stars - Politically Correct

Roots, Part 10: Lost Images

I just got some things I somehow left in California.  Firstly, the great images from The Shears whose story is told at that link, so I won't dwell on it.

First there was ¡Swing Pad! named after the room Aidan and Sam shared those two weeks.  Hopefully their essence is captured as we would have hoped.

Back and front cover with images from the title location.

Inside cover - some of my favorite images from the era.

Tray image.  This is a cartoon by Sam.  the letter in my hand reads "Dear Chris, I'm in love w you. - Gerry"  Gerry was my high school nemesis, so I react "WHAT?!?"  Aidan says "Hi, I'm Aidan and i'm Gay."  The third character, says, "wait... i'm not Sam."  At the time, he clearly didn't look like him, but years later he would look EXACTLY like this.

Then there was Smokin' in the Girls Room - a much looser affair featuring Jeff Ziga.

The Shears int he actual girls' room.

The back - us at Acme.

The inside, featuring Jon Shapiro and Jeff Ziga on the see-saw.

The tray.