Okay, that’s it. I officially hate these emo bands. I’ve tried to give them a chance. I’ve tried to be nice, but damn it, I just can’t take it anymore. My #1 peeve with them besides the whining is that the song titles range from (I’m not making this up!) the ridiculously long: “I’ve Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song)”; to obscure references that the band’s fans won’t even get: “Of All the Gin Joints in All the World”; to the quasi-witty, so the brain dead groupies can awe at the band’s cleverness: “Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends”. And the worst part of it all is that the titles have nothing to do with the contents of the songs themselves! What’s the deal with that?

Fall Out Boy hit it big with MySpace whores in 2003 with their debut album Take This to Your Grave and have been riding Warped Tour’s coat tails ever since. Their new, completely indistinguishable album is called From Under the Cork Tree. It’s the same rehashed emo/emocore formula that’s been the meat and potatoes for labels like Victory Records since 1998. If you’ve ever heard The Starting Line, Motion City Soundtrack, Taking Back Sunday, Senses Fail, New Found Glory, Saves the Day, Hawthorne Heights, Finch, etc., etc., etc., you’ve heard Fall Out Boy.

I’m going to be working on my own album in the coming months. It’ll be an answer to put an end to all this bullshit once and for all. I’m going to call it Sorry to Hear Your Girlfriend Dumped You, Now Shut the Fuck Up About It. That’s an appropriately long title for an emo album right? And on it, I’m just going to whine and complain all about how much I wish they’d all stop making music. They could save themselves the trouble and just slap and new label on the same CD every couple of months.

One thing I can say for this album and others like it is that it makes for pretty good driving music. This type of music reminds me of road trips for some reason. And you know what? Every now and then when I’m feeling angsty, I can get into it. But not when I’m sober, clear headed, and relatively happy. I’ve grown up and since then I’ve decided that life ain’t so bad. Therefore, music like this doesn’t hold my attention long. Not only that, but Patrick Strump's nasally vocals start to make my ears bleed by about minute 10 of the album.

Fall Out Boy can take their faux-hawks and ringer tees and shove 'em. So unless you tYpE lYkE tHiS or write in your Livejournal about how nobody understands you and never will or have 3,295 MySpace friends who you’ve never met in real life, give this album a pass. You know, unless you’re into that sort of thing.