The first Panic! At the Disco song I heard was, surprisingly, not “I Write Sins Not Tragedies.” I was sitting in my childhood bedroom, and Apple Radio (before the pay-to-stream era) suggested “Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time” from their album Death of a Bachelor. I was hooked.
Driving to The Woodlands High School in the mornings, and now as I’m walking around UVA Grounds, I use thunderous beats and heavy drums to make my ears ring. If I time it right, I can match my steps to the rhythm. I watch the passing cars and fellow students with a glare in my eye; do you not like me? Especially in Texas, I’d imagine myself standing out from the crowd; am I too loud, too outspoken, too future-WGS-major for you? And does it look like I give a damn? The lyrics spark something in me, however subtle. I’m not angry; I’m a badass. I relish in the idea that my airpods’ sound would make my peers recoil.
Then someone sitting next to me in class taps on my shoulder. “Do you have a charger?” they ask. The spell is broken. Oh my goodness, of course I do! I hand it over with a bright smile. It’s pink.
I’ll be honest– I struggle to define alternative music, or pop punk, or modern rock. I’m not in any particular local music scene. But I know how music makes me feel.
But I was left with a feeling of indescribable cool; when I pressed shuffle on my alternative playlists, I would take on an identity that didn’t seem as average, as basic. I think that’s what draws people to the music– the idea that merely listening transcends us to an alternative group of people, carving their identity off the beaten path.
I’ll be honest– I struggle to define alternative music, or pop punk, or modern rock. I’m not in any particular local music scene. But I know how music makes me feel. And I recognize that anger seems to be resurfacing in places it hasn’t been seen in quite some time.
In the past year, whatever music genre I’m trying to describe (let’s go with the catch-all “Radio Rock”) has seen a revival. To me, the genre was born with pop-punk’s Blink-182 introducing nasal-based, raspy vocals and fast-paced drums to pop traditions of repeated choruses and catchy melodies. From there, bands like Fall Out Boy and Panic! rose to prominence in the early 2000s. To the peripheral, you have modern rock, like The Killers and Cage the Elephant taking another corner of the alt-scene by storm (let’s agree to not include Nickelback).
I don’t know the intricacies of pop punk and modern rock’s lineage, but I find the music of the late 2010s to be aesthetically different, less frustrated, than the radio hits of the early 2000s. Just compare “Dark Horse” by Katy Perry to “Beverly Hills” by Weezer. One was released in 2013, the other in 2005. Both went Top 10 on the Billboard Hot 100.
Alternative was officially “norm-y.” While more traditional underground punk bands continued to push boundaries and avoid the ‘pop’ sound, alternative music in the early 2000s was, simply, not alternative: it was the main event.
Avril Levine, Paramore, Green Day– hell, even Cobra Starship incorporated (formerly) niche alternative styles to create radio-dominating music. Alternative was officially “norm-y.” While more traditional underground punk bands continued to push boundaries and avoid the ‘pop’ sound, alternative music in the early 2000s was, simply, not alternative: it was the main event.
And then music changed. Radio Rock began to fall out of fashion; it wasn’t “trendy” anymore. A prime example of the shift is Maroon 5– just listen to “Harder to Breathe” from their first album, Songs About Jane, to “Don’t Wanna Know” from Red Pill Blues. “Harder to Breathe” is dark, self-assured, led by a heavy guitar riff. Passionate. “Don’t Wanna Know” sounds…island inspired? Rock never left the music scene (Fall Out Boy released Save Rock and Roll in 2013), but it became alternative again. A song like “Dirty Little Secret” by the All American Rejects wasn’t going to go #1 in 2016.
This brings us to today– the era of Machine Gun Kelly’s Tickets to My Downfall, Willow’s “Transparent Soul,” Olivia Rodrigo’s “Brutal” and “Good 4 You.” In the past three years, pop punk influences have been repackaged and commercialized, coming back into the limelight with a vengeance. Those same heavy drums, nasal-y vocals, and unabashed lyrical anger are found on iHeartRadio once again. Once more, anger is back on trend.
Maybe we’ve always wanted our music to reflect our mood, and the music industry is looking to cash in on the fact that the kids are pissed.
If I want to be political, I can ask: why the “angry” music comeback? Could it have anything to do with the Trump Presidency and mass political polarization? Immigrant children in cages; Black citizens shot in the streets? #MeToo; Jeffrey Epstein; January 6th, 2021; Iranian women executed for daring to demand equality; COVID-19; the ever-ticking clock of Climate Change? We have an awful lot to be angry about; the fury is warranted. Since 2017 we have found ourselves in a boiling pot of water and the temperature (literally!) keeps rising. Meanwhile, the kids and young adults of today must deal with the timeless struggles of figuring out what they want to do with their life, what they want to achieve, who they want to love, and how they should define themselves. Maybe we’ve always wanted our music to reflect our mood, and the music industry is looking to cash in on the fact that the kids are pissed.
Or maybe Radio Rock has never been about politics. Again, there are things that I know, and then there are things I just feel.
“Don’t Threaten Me with a Good Time” is an individual experience. I sink into “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” as I stare at my ceiling fan, feeling in unison with Brendon Urie. The song is silly, but my mind and the song’s undertones echo the same: our day was… messy.
I’m a college student. My experiences aren’t wholly unique. Bad communication and young adult heartbreak, scrapping the five-year-plan and struggling to find an internship, the sinking thought of “God, maybe I should go back to therapy?” are almost universal at this age.
We find comfort in the music that makes it OK, even “cool,” to brand our angst as a positive. As a shining character trait instead of a hidden, lurking flaw.
And I know college students like me aren’t the only ones who Don’t Have it All Figured Out, who need music to feel seen and heard. Alternative, angry, defiant music has a way of making our chaos a badge of honor. “I’m discontent, and that’s what makes me incredible.” Maybe that’s why Radio Rock (call it what you will) never seems to leave the public consciousness – no matter how dominant sugary pop may have become during the 2010s. We find comfort in the music that makes it OK, even “cool,” to brand our angst as a positive. As a shining character trait instead of a hidden, lurking flaw. Even just for three minutes, before I hand over my pleasant pink charger with a pleasant, pop-sugar pink smile.
I was sitting in my college bedroom when I ran across the announcement that Panic! At the Disco was officially retiring. A small part of my heart hurt. I grew up listening to that music. They were one of my first concerts.
But another part scoffed. Retiring? Not for me. The childhood Eryn that worshiped Panic!– that alternative, punk, I-don’t-give-a-damn badass – resurfaces with the opening notes of “Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time.” Be very scared (and please, may I have my charger back?). My Panic! lives on. And maybe some lucky kid, who’s youth is defined by Olivia Rodrigo (who’s pop-punk imagery may glisten, then give out with the changing commercial tide), may one day feel the same.
