Countdown to my date with Fall Out Boy – 6 days to go

I have this incredibly vivid memory of me at about fifteen sitting at my beat-up desk clicking away on my laptop, looking up Fall Out Boy lyrics. I had just downloaded “From Under the Cork Tree” and was trying to make myself word perfect. You know, just in case the opportunity ever arose to sing with Patrick. Or for karaoke. What I didn’t know was that I was seconds away from cementing my taste in music for at least the next six years. Which brings me to my FOB song for today:

“Seven Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen)”. This song was apparently written about Pete Wentz’s suicide attempt back in 2005. Heavy, heavy stuff. But the song still has Fall Out Boy’s poppy, light-hearted melody backing up the seriousness of the lyrics. Every time I hear this song it reminds me of a Gerard Way (frontman of the now defunct My Chemical Romance) quote:

If we write a write a song and it turns out really poppy, we have to make the lyrics really fucked up. There’s psychosis to everything we do for sure. One day we’re probably gonna write this number one pop tune that will be about a massacre!

Which they did, by the way. “Teenagers”, from “The Black Parade”, was about a shooting in an American high school a few years ago. But I am getting away from my point. “Seven Minutes in Heaven”, while feeling like a “poppy” kind of song has a lot of unexpected depth to it. And I love it when a song can surprise you like that; this super serious message that the band is passionate about hidden amid catchy chords and snappy lyrics. Everyone’s life has been touched by mental illness in some way or another. And I just love the fact that Fall Out Boy managed to find a way to talk about depression, help Pete talk about the past and hopefully move on, and entertain their fans all in a three minute song. That is bloody brilliant.

But what I meant at the very beginning of this post about “cementing my taste in music” was the fact that, at the very bottom of the lyrics website was the name “Brendon Urie”. I clicked over to MSN (yes, that long ago) and asked a friend of mine who that was. He told me, linked me to some videos, and then before I knew it I was listening to “A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out” on repeat.

Then, as I looked over the lyrics for “Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year” I saw another name: William Beckett. The same friend told me that Beckett was the lead singer of the band The Academy Is… and, after one listen to “Slow Down”, I was in love. Within a month I had watched all of the Academy Is… podcasts, made Beckett’s blog my homepage, and learned all of the lyrics for every song off by heart. Beckett was the love of my life for almost a full three years. Ask anyone who went to high school with me; they’ll tell you. Actually, the first tattoo I ever got was based on the words to an Academy Is… song. If that isn’t the mark of a true fan girl, then I don’t know what is.

After I learned that Panic! At The Disco, Fall Out Boy, and The Academy Is… all existed on the same label, I went looking to see who else  belonged to Decaydance/Fueled By Ramen. Then after I had become acquainted with these amazing musicians, I started Googling and watching YouTube videos and found all of these other bands from other labels that toured with my Decaydance guys. Bands like Armor For Sleep, We The Kings, and All Time Low. But I would never have found any of these bands, and therefore never progressed my music collection from Green Day, Blink 182, Elvis, and U2 if it hadn’t been for Fall Out Boy. And as tribute to this, I have the old Decaydance bat shoddily tattooed on my left wrist. It looks like someone drew it on in permanent marker, and it always gets mistaken for the Bat symbol, but I know what it means. So when I’m 80 and my grandkids are looking at the funny looking black blob on my wrist, I can pull out a dusty old CD and explain to them the wonders of pop punk and a little band called Fall Out Boy.

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About Bec Graham

Bec Graham, 24, was born on the wrong continent. Everything from her burns-like-paper skin tone to her inability to cope with the slightest hint of a hot day suggests she should have been born under the gloomy skies and mild sun of the UK. She hopes writing will get her to her rightful home one day. Failing that, she scans the skies for a spinning blue police box, hoping to catch a lift back to the motherland.
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4 Responses to Countdown to my date with Fall Out Boy – 6 days to go

  1. Pingback: Countdown to my date with Fall Out Boy – 5 days to go | My Infernal Imagination

  2. Pingback: Countdown to my date with Fall Out Boy – 4 days to go | My Infernal Imagination

  3. Pingback: Countdown to my date with Fall Out Boy – 1 day to go | My Infernal Imagination

  4. Pingback: Fall Out Boy’s Evening Out With…Me | My Infernal Imagination

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