Jawbreaker at House of Blues 4/23
There are a couple of things about emo that I didn’t understand for a long time. As a former arbiter of “REAL EMO,” it’s pretty hypocritical for me to say that I find The Promise Ring’s Nothing Feels Good to be an unremarkable record, and a lot of post-2012 emo to be totally unlistenable. Perhaps one of my worst takes was that I just wasn’t all that excited about Jawbreaker. Jawbreaker is a band with incredible pull in the emo community, with their final release Dear You frequently topping emo charts online. Years ago, the record’s iconic cover featuring what appears to be some sort of mule framed dearly in the center of a photo album convinced me to give the record a shot, to which I found myself feeling overwhelmingly neutral about it. I liked all the songs I heard, but nothing was capturing me. What was it about Jawbreaker and that mule that always made its way onto those clairvoyant top-ten lists that shaped my listening habits? I was unsure whether or not I’d attend Jawbreaker’s then-upcoming show at the House of Blues, but I figured that it’d help me come around on Dear You. After all, Jawbreaker’s recent tour was in commemoration of the record’s 25th anniversary, and tours like these happen rarely, leaving fans wondering if they’d be the last. I knew I’d be beating myself up forever for missing this one.
The first thing I really think I have to mention is how much I love the House of Blues. Every show I’ve attended there has been phenomenal, and Jawbreaker is no exception. The open, cavernous interior of the House of Blues leaves the impression that the performers you’re watching are truly worthy of commanding such an enormous space. I also really commend the staff there for the hassle-free process of entry—the staff at the House of Blues held me back in conversation momentarily to complement both my outfit and the camera bag they had just checked. (Have you ever heard of the study that proved judges who had just eaten a filling lunch were more likely to give out more lenient sentences? Having a venue’s security detail compliment you on your way in is like that—putting me in a good mood before a show makes me far more likely to enjoy the show.)
To my surprise, three bands were playing that night, not just Jawbreaker: the show opened with Brooklyn-based punk band Worriers, followed by the legendary Get Up Kids, a group that soundtracked a majority of the years of my emo phase. Jawbreaker’s three members stood in a distant triangle from one another, dwarfed by the towering image of the Morton salt girl standing behind them: the band’s iconic logo. The salt company’s slogan had been corrupted to say: “When it pains, it roars,” a phrase perfectly reflective of Schwarzenbach’s lyrical style. Of course, even after 25 years, Schwarzenbach’s voice sounds the same now as it does on the 1996 recording of Dear You. They played the entirety of the album, saving the best song, and my favorite, for last: “Jet Black,” a song that I think should be nominated as the national anthem of pop punk. Jawbreaker knew what the fans wanted, and they waited ‘til the end to give it to them—it’s moments like these that are the most satisfying, a long night ending with an entire crowd belting out every single lyric as one.
Worriers provided me refreshing insight into the modern sound of emo and punk, and the Get Up Kids brought me into a nostalgia-trance of emo memories. That duality of time reflected the audience members—as I weaved through the crowd for pictures, it was not uncommon that I’d find attendees younger than me to my left and some decades older to my right. It was strange and comforting to find myself among those who were emo before emo really was, who had been fans of Jawbreaker before emo gained the many definitions it has today. Jawbreaker provided an excellent finale to the show that united both the veterans and novices of the emo community, two groups which I found myself in the middle of.
Since the show, I’ve come around on a few of my emo bad takes. I learned that I should give albums second chances—so maybe I won’t hate Nothing Feels Good forever. I also learned that I’m totally wrong about the listenability of post-2012 emo, and whoever saw me dancing in the pit to Worriers can attest to that. I think it’s my opinion of Jawbreaker that’s changed the most, however. Their performance at the House of Blues really did prove to me that they, and Dear You, are worth the hype.
