Black greasy hair and plenty of young adulthood’s favourite emotion, Angst. Yup, it’s Fall Out Boy…
Most girls learnt how to wear eyeliner from models, movie stars, or even their mams, but I first picked up my kohl liner because of Pete Wentz. Yes. I know right. But aside from influencing my makeup trends, Fall Out Boy was my enigma. In the days Scuzz ruled my TV screen, I would long for the sarcastically stupid music videos of the fallen boys and sing my heart out to the lyrics (or sing what I thought the lyrics were thanks to Patrick Stump’s Grade A pronunciation.)
The countless chat room arguments over how Folie a Deux wasn’t that bad of an album or the hundreds of reblogged gifs of Pete Wentz’s bass spin truly made my social media days bright. To this day, I can remember being donned up in their tour merch, my fist clenched so tightly, screaming “I Don’t Care” back at them as they played in Manchester.
Then it happened, the sad inevitable. To see my pop-punkers turn to autotune broke my heart, and so in turn, I took my hiatus from them. Going cold turkey from them was impossible though, as their songs always crept their ways into my playlists or hummed their way into my head. Even now, I must admit, She’s My Winona still bangs and is repeated daily through my headphones.
After being fully pop-punk sober for some time, there are still times I wish to drink myself silly on their first album, and let it all come flooding back, but I know once I get back in, I’ll never get out. And trust me, no-one wants that emo side fringe to be making its return.
Listen to Fall Out Boy on Spotify and Apple Music.
