sync24

I’ve seen better days 
Past present and future 
Superimposed, always
Barely tied together by a suture
Endlessly searching for the right phrase, taking every wrong turn

From late december to sometime mid march, after finishing Red, White and Royal Blue (I know) I revisited my interest in The Social Network, which, in some ways, is responsible for my critical eye -- it was my first conscious, no-longer-a-child movie-heartbreak, exacerbated by The Social Network Press Tour wherein Andrew Garfield firmly established himself as the kind of actor who would fall in love with his costars without reservation. It's endearing, the mark of a young actor, and encouraging for gay people and gay interpretations of the film to see that one of the actors had approached the role through a romantic lens without considering fans or being prompted by fans. It's still a rare sight. When it does happen, it usually comes across as an inside joke; not something earnest.

Then, someone new started following me.

(This does not happen often, my tumblr is a relic from the 2010s, when my sort-of-ex-friend Marcela (who I love dearly still and simply don't talk to much anymore) first introduced me to the website while we were balls-deep in bandom, especially Cobra Starship (a parody of mindless dance pop), Panic! At The Disco (responsible for cult classic A Fever You Can't Sweat Out), and Fall Out Boy (pop-punk emo kids who never belonged in any categories ascribed to them).)

Apparently, old bandom culture yet lives, because this person's url and description were unmistakably pre-hiatus Fall Out Boy lyrics: as earnest as they are self-aware, intended to come across tongue-in-cheek as much as cause legitimate heartache.

I suddenly longed for Pete Wentz's unstable overly-self-aware melodrama as sung by soul-vocalist E2-to-C6 range Patrick Stump, fitted with Andy Hurley's loud and meticulous drums, and Joe's scene-stealing, energetic guitars. I still do; Fall Out Boy has been dominating my Spotify since I was reminded of their existence, suddenly and violently. Their grip on my listening habits was immediate and immense: statsforspotify only lists 10 non-FOB songs in my top 50 across the past 6 months, despite the fact that I was only pulled into these listening habits two months ago.

Fall Out Boy songs are fucking excellent even when they're not, I firmly maintain Take This To Your Grave, From Under The Cork Tree, Infinity On High and Folie a Deux are no-skip albums. Infinity On High is a genuine masterpiece and Folie a Deux, the furthest departure from their sound which contains some of the band's most abstract and overspecific lyrics, is my personal favorite.

Even after their hiatus, when Pete Wentz got his shit together and became just some guy who hangs out with his kids instead of the dumpsterfire disaster of a gossip rag poster boy he used to be, the music slaps. Whether it's the lack of guyliner, the recovery and stability, the fact that he has not attempted to strangle Patrick Stump in several years, the fact that emo is dead in a ditch and they're all dads now, Fall Out Boy songs will never again sound like they did before. This is a good thing, mostly.

It would be a lie to say I don't miss the borderline-cringe earnesty, the livejournalian poetry of Pete Wentz circa 2002-2009. I enjoy some of his old, edgy blog posts more than almost all of the American Beauty, American Psycho album - which is apparently his least favorite Fall Out Boy album, thanks Pete. I am happy to enjoy the capsule of pre-hiatus, as I got to know them only shortly after they decided to take a break, but I do long to enjoy at least some of their newer music, get over this roadblock I've created for myself. Miss Missing You and The Kids Aren't Alright and Young And Menace are songs that I know should be dear to my heart for wildly different reasons, yet they still can't stick with me the way every single song off their first four records did. My goal for this period of obsession is to be able to enjoy those songs whole-heartedly without nostalgia and elitism holding me back.

A few anecdotes to end on:

1. Patrick Stump being both fat and attractive to me has done irrevocable damage (positive) to my sense of self-worth. Still not enough to not hate myself, but there's something therapeutic in finding features you hate on yourself beautiful in someone else. That's my wife.

 

2. When I went to their first concert in the Netherlands post-hiatus, in 2013, the 10th anniversary of their first studio album Take This To Your Grave, no-one around me knew their old music and I wish you a very die. I recently found the flag I bought then, my proof of concert. I hope they'll come back in 2023 as well. I'm seeing them on the Hella Mega tour within 2 months.

3. I do not think any members of Fall Out Boy are, or ever were, in love with each other. But Pete is a romantic in the strangest ways, has definitely written and spoken about Patrick like he is - very genuinely, as well as with the explicit goal to annoy Patrick and encourage fans. Less so, these days, but it's still there. They are real people, with a complex relationship, a friendship that doesn't seem nearly as close as when they were actively at each others' throats (funny how that works), colleagues who still work well together. But in the heightened, fictionalized, prestigious coming-of-age Fall Out Boy miniseries in my head, the subtext is undeniable - I imagine at least one of the actors would approach it as something resembling a romantic relationship.