Fall Out Boy

American Beauty/American Psycho (2015)

nickEp

There’s no reason to cry “sellout” talking about Fall Out Boy in 2015. We covered that years ago. American Beauty/American Psycho represents the next step of a band attempting world pop domination. And that’s okay. We’re all going to be okay.

What other band from our little niche of the music scene has had the same massive success? Blink? Green Day? Yes, but those bands spent years being our heroes before opting for multi-millions. Fall Out Boy never got that chance. The moment they released “Sugar, We’re Going Down,” we had already turned our backs on them.

It’s not like Fall Out Boy has ever shied away from the music they’re making. They’ve taken every opportunity for a Lil Wayne or Courtney Love cameo no matter how cringe-worthy the results. Sure, it’s weird to think of songs in terms of Big Hero 6’s “Immortals” or college football’s “Centuries," and when I hear them, I think more of an advertisement than a record. But, there are also some real gems on AP/AB. Plus, it's fun and catchy and upbeat too. Yeah, the vocals are overproduced and, no, I’m not sure you can hear Pete Wentz’s bass on a single track, but at this point, these are not new complaints.

When it comes down to it, Fall Out Boy has always been about the giant hooks. And each song on AB/AP has one. For the life of me I can’t get “Jet Pack Blues” or “Forth of July” out of my head. The Munster’s theme looped in an Uma Thurman reference? Catchy. As. Hell. And if you think the references are cheesy, remember when you used to scream, “ I can be your John Cusack” at the top of your lungs.

There’s no shortage of bands making "cool" punk rock. And there’s certainly no lack of bands making the same record year after year. And we love both types. So why can’t we have a guilty pleasure? We can listen to our Fall Out Boy mp3s and still keep our vinyl copy of Rented World tucked beneath our arm.

A new Fall Out Boy record is not designed for twenty-somethings predetermined to hate it. But, I have to admit, I like the damn thing.