Well, by no means do I consider myself a hipster. But music has always played an important role in my life and my tastes have been a little different.
Most conversations about music start with me saying “oh, you probably haven’t heard of my favorite band,” and ends as my coerced response of “The Wonder Years” is met with a blank expression. Even worse is when people pretend they know who they are.
Pop punk is something that I’ve witnessed transform since my middle school days of Paramore and Panic! at the Disco. I’m curious as to how it’s able to attract such a loyal audience – myself included.
I’m here to explore the facets of this culture (why people feel so compelled to defend pop punk all the damn time) and reflect upon my own experiences (my existential crisis I had in the 30 seconds I once dropped my phone at a show).
Boy, do I have some stories. The people I’ve met, the lines I’ve waited in, the people I’ve passive aggressively edged out to keep my spot at the barrier.
I write from the perspective of 19-year-old college girl with glasses from Connecticut who barely breaks 5 feet. But I also write from the perspective of someone who will do anything and everything in her power to make it to a show so she can scream her lungs out to every word because it’s the best feeling in the entire world.
So sit back, relax, grab some pizza – or pad thai, as it were – call all of your friends, get out of this town and keep reading.
P.S. If you get the title, we’re going to get along very well.