There are some songs and bands on my iPod that I won’t readily admit to. Well, in theory.
I’m just kind of embarrassed to admit that I like certain artists. There are bands whose albums I will tell you about over and over again until you finally go get them, and then there are bands that I will only begrudingly admit to having listened to.
Motion City Soundtrack is one of those bands, but I wish they didn’t have to be. The sharp lyrics and wonderful songwriting are a mainstay on my playlists, often being the most played. Unfortunately the band falls into the pop punk/emo genre, which earns me the occasional jab from my roommates. My Dinosaur Life, the band’s fourth record and only major label release, was the one that brought them back into my attention, having been produced by blink-182’s Mark Hoppus.
After years of writing them off as just another pop-punk act, I decided to check it out, having heard strong reviews. Boy, had I been wrong about them. There was power to this record, crunchy guitar and frantic vocals supplemented with synthesizers and honey-sweet melodies. The band seems to be able to make anything into a great song, with anthems about being a nerd as well as songs about delirium and break-ups.
They’re not the most original ideas, but dear God, they manage to make them interesting and witty. The tongue-in-cheek nature of the lyrics to songs like “Pulp Fiction” and “@!#?@!” (the text that appears in Q*bert’s speech bubble) shows the versatility of vocalist Justin Pierre, as well as different facets of the band’s sound.
The band is streaming its latest single at RollingStone.com, and it still impresses me that they have maintained an interesting and unique sound through to this point in their career.
But of course they can’t be the only guilty pleasure record I have. Not all of them are actually as impressive as Motion City, but damn, some of these bands deserve less flak than they get.
Green Day will unfortunately always be a guilty pleasure band for me. After releasing American Idiot in 2004 the band apparently went off the deep end and left a lot of their fun, punk roots behind. That doesn’t stop albums like Dookie and Warning from being amazing. I don’t think I’d ever want to see them live now, especially not after the fiasco of an album that was 21st Century Breakdown, but I can’t help but love their back catalog.
Not that they were ever the most poetic band, but they managed to have a way with teenage angst that was accessible to more than just the average punk fan. Songs like “Basketcase” and “Poprocks and Coke” are still as exciting today as they were 10 years ago.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, I have a not-so-secret love for Taylor Swift. It’s okay to laugh at that, it’s pretty sad. But the girl writes her own songs, which is more than I can say for a lot of country singers. She can also make them appeal to me, pulling in musical influences I wouldn’t expect. Between her powerful vocals and actual music-writing chops, I can’t fault this girl. I just put on my headphones and tap along to the beat, hoping no one else can hear it.
As much as I wish T-Swift was the only country artist in my possession, I told myself I would be totally honest in this column, and I must say I have been loving The Band Perry. You should definitely laugh now—it might make me feel better.
The band may share less writing credit than Swift, but the melodies and harmonies are great. One of my friends gave me the album for my birthday and told me she didn’t think I could hate it. Unfortunately I don’t.
That’s not to say that these are the only guilty pleasure albums I have—there are definitely more—but these are the ones that I think are the most embarrassing, and therefore the most honest. I’m definitely hoping my roommate forgets to pick up the paper today, or I’ll never live this down.
It appears Jeremy is really asking for it this time. Send him your questions, comments and suggestions to go back to middle school at jgartzke@wisc.edu.
