From The Best Damn Thing
Holy shit. Actually, think about those two words for a second: holy shit. Sacred, profane, magnanimous pointlessness. What a concept! This song is like a Zen Buddhist koan. A Zen Buddhist koan that sounds like the Go-Go’s and features the line, “She’s, like, so
whatever.” Big-budget production is getting so awesome these days. Five years from now, sound will be so loud, sharp, and dangerous we’ll just drop boomboxes playing this stuff onto Tehran. “Girlfriend” is produced by Dr. Luke. I mean, this tune is produced by a guy who calls himself “Dr. Luke”! (He has a PhD in jammers; herpetology didn’t stick.) Dr. Luke is who you’d get if you made Rick Rubin shave his beard, pop Paxil, and fly around in a jet pack wearing a Lycra jumpsuit. Dr. Luke raped me.
Fall Out Boy
“This Ain’t a Scene It’s an Arms Race”
From Infinity on High
What does it mean if a scene is an arms race—that 14-year-olds are making cutthroat deals for Paul Frank T-shirts and wielding their two-ways like AK-47s? And did the Scissor Sisters write this? ‘Cause it’s too clomping and ostentatious to be anyone else. Whatever anyone says, though, Fall Out Boy get a break, because they came out of a local emo/hardcore scene with real mosh pits and everything, and anyone who can’t appreciate a good mosh pit is a dick. There’s also a big call-and-response breakdown here where hombre commands, “Sing until your lungs give out!” Yes, sir, Mr. Emo-Punk, sir. Look—there goes Oliver North! Yoink [steals Paul Frank shirt]!
“Here (In Your Arms)”
From Zombies! Aliens! Vampires! Dinosaurs!
Those of us lucky enough to have heard this know the truth: “Here (In Your Arms)” is the best song ever. Slap that on your next album cover, boys—you’re winners! You’re either tough enough to have proudly crafted this beauty, or so fey you think that Bronski Beat were a couple macho four-wheelin’ types. For those who don’t know, this song is the Postal Service meets Fall Out Boy meets Cher. Cher! Homies are so brazen they do the AutoTune effect on the chorus, which lifts a beat from my bygone trance music days. There’s a press photo of these guys where one dude’s wearing goofy shades. This is what those cherry-sweet dudes who like to fuck stuffed animals—plushies?—listen to while they’re, you know, fucking a stuffed animal.
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on February 13, 2007