Cut my wrists and black my eyes: the bastardization of punk rock in the wrong hands

Never mind the bullocks, this is the true story of a scene called emo. Is it the angle of a self-taken photograph that defines me as a person? Is it the tightness of my pants that renders me an indvidual? Is it my expression of emotional sensitivity that shows my worth as a human being?

An invocation of the word "emo" calls to mind several images. Trendy fashion, horrible music, annoying complaints. One cannot deny the obvious association of the term with a musical sub-genre. For decades millions of American, and in fact the world's youth have defined themselves based on the corporate label of the music they fancy. Rockers, mods, punks, goths, metalheads, hipsters, all down to the latest step in the evolutionary chain of trends, emo. And who are the proprieters of such a bold statement of aesthetic and attitude? My Chemical Romance? The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus? Fall Out Boy? Chiodos? Oh, no, my friends. Such is the equivalent of mistaking apples for oranges, gold for silver, or America for a democracy. Indeed, to understand emo, one must think back to a time before the age of mascara and hair straighteners, razor blades and suicide notes. For to understand emo one must understand another cult of subcultural trend-followers, ironically a group responsible for most naiive acts of emo-hate (think: Mexico "emo" riots).

It was a time of leather jackets and safety pins. Disco was dying, soft rock was dwindling, and a generation of punk rockers were preparing to follow Henry Rollins' famous call to "rise above." Rock 'n Roll had returned to the streets, and the proletariat had regained the primal energy and ferrocious aggression long gone from the state of rock music. Groups such as Black Flag, Bad Brains, and Minor Threat had taken on the torch lit by the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, and MC5 to birth hardcore punk. Armed with the angst of punk and the anger of metal, hardcore evolved into a scene unto itself, notorious for its contradictory diversity, infamous for its universal ostracization.

Neither police nor parents were very happy about the rise of a musical movement not even the record labels would carry. Loud music, incoherent structure, scathing lyrics, staunch cultural defiance, and violent dancing characterized an otherwise undefinable, widespread movement. But the kids loved it. Their angers, their fears, their anxieties, their aspirations all meshed together into 2 minutes of sloppy power chords and shouted anthems of rebellion. Yet the by the late '80s the appeal of hardcore had died.

Though hardcore had always experienced huge disparities among the many different styles within the umbrella trend, of significance to the matter at hand is the emergence of the post-hardcore scene. Distancing from the violence and aggression of earlier hardcore, post-hardcore acts such as Rites of Spring began to focus on the artistic authenticity of hardcore with a more musically-minded approach. Structure and melody became more developed, along with a more mature, often poetic approach to lyrical content. Ian MacKaye, frontmen of the hardcore powerhouse Minor Threat, formed Fugazi, a legend among punk rockers, ironically responsible for abandonment of the once-glorious hardcore scene. The result was further ostracization, even from the hardcore scene, contributing to the perjorative label "emoXcore." Thus began the unfortunate life of the creature called emo.

Emo gained a following within the circles of indie and pop-punk, evident in the rise of bands such as Sunny Day Real Estate and Cap'n Jazz. And while the hardcore lineage was slowly disappearing, the hardcore scene had adopted traits of the emo movement into its own form. A more furious hardcore emerged, armed with the angst of punk and the emotion of emo. Screamo, or "emo violence," exemplified by favorites pg.99 and Saetia, displayed an intensified expression of emotion never before seen in contemporary music. The evolution of emo had extended beyond its scope of punk rock and into musical and cultural territories never before anticipated. And in Sweden the band Refused would call to arms "the shape of punk to come."

In the post-grunge era of modern rock music, emo had become assimilated and adopted and transformed into an entirely new animal. Perhaps the greatest indication of emo influence lies in the continuing post-hardcore scene, widely dominant in both the East and West coasts. However, the incessant whore-ing out of emo had given license to all sorts of trickery and shenanigans, and by the early 21st century, emo had become a term used to refer to something completely different. A wave of indie and pop-punk bands, indubitably influenced to some extent by "real" emo, paved the way towards even more infantile bands naiively refering to themselves, or referred to by others, as emo. And it didn't help that this generation of youth would seek to define themselves yet again.

Thanks to its reemergence in the mainstream's radar after a decade-long draught, rock music became marketable again. Thanks to the whitewashing and diluting of punk rock, the new breed of emo had a foundation on which to flourish. Obnoxious aesthetic and fashion statements, packaged and sold as consumer-friendly "individuality," became readily available for suburban youth to brandish an imaginary scene. Whiny pretty boys in their little sisters' jeans, with a vintage band t-shirt they've never listened to, with a straightened hairstyle reminiscient of a skunk.

Contrary to popular belief, hardcore and emo are alive and well, though in hiding, and damged beyond repair. Hardcore has gone onto bring new levels of br00tality, though of course arguably to the dismay of lovers of good music everywhere. Italy's La Quiete is evidence of a prolonged interest in the emo of old, and Japan's Envy is proof that hardcore has become a force to be reckoned with. Of course, along with this is a generation of nasally-voiced scenesters complaining about their ex-girlfriends while a sea of mindless sheep flock to a mosh pit of sterilized slam dancing or ritual hair-straightening. The "emo" of today mirrors the emo of yesterday in its utter ambiguity and difficulty in classification. But at the end of the day a movement of artistic integrity and emotional sincerity is nothing like a scene of artificiality and naiiveté.

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