Conscious of the demands increasingly put upon young emo fans’ attention spans, suburban-Chicago pretty boys Fall Out Boy have made even the liner notes to their major-label debut worth perusing: You’ll catch way-meta song titles such as “I Slept With Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me,” as well as a request that you “put this record down,” since Fall Out Boy “are bad news” and aren’t “worth the hearing you’ll lose.”
If you’re me, you’ll also discover that a kid you used to go to punk shows with during your undergraduate years at Northwestern is now a member of their road crew.
Frankly, dude, I’m surprised: When we went to see Avail play in Madison that one weekend, you said you couldn’t dig 4AM Friday because it was too poppy. But FOB are totally poppy! Every song here tries unconvincingly to disguise catchy choruses and MySpace teenspeak with high-grade guitar chug and cymbals that splash as loudly as dolphins, yet it’s the catchy choruses and MySpace teenspeak that obviously make FOB worth the hearing I’ve lost. Take ’em away and all that’s left is another helping of predatory female jitters. Who’s got time for that?