Hey guys? Yeah, the Juliana Theory called. They want their shtick back. Thanks.
The All-American Rejects are everything the writers of Seventeen Magazine would have you believe about emo: four good looking guys from an obscure part of the country playing “emotionally charged” music that only the most sentimental of teenage girls and unstable ex-punk rockers could appreciate.
Every song off the band’s self-titled debut, originally released independently on Doghouse Records, follows essentially the same pattern. First, start off slow so you catch the listener off-guard when the drums come in and the song really starts to rock. Now, after the second chorus or so, slow it down to a sappy break with a gut-wrenching piano solo that elicits the tears of every poser in the house. Finally, build to that unexpected crescendo that leaves them panting. You thought the song was done at the break, didn’t you? Gotcha!
The All-American Rejects present nothing new or innovative here. At the very least, their songs are catchy. But then again, the same could be said for Good Charlotte. And God knows they suck.