There’s a scene from season one episode five of the previously short-lived, recently-revived Starz workcom Party Down, in which ditzy waiter/actor/model/musician Kyle Bradway describes his in-universe band, Karma Rocket, as “Power Emo” while flirting with one of the guests at the adult film awards show afterparty that he’s working. It’s a bit of a throwaway line in the grander scheme of both the episode’s narrative setup of the team catering the after party for a porn award show and a series-long running gag about Kyle’s shitty band and faux-deep persona. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched this episode (and pretty much every episode from Party Down’s initial run), but this particular line didn’t really bubble up to the surface of my mind until a couple months ago.
I was trying to succinctly describe a particular wave of bands that occupied a space between the poppier aspects of 4th wave emo and anthemic heartland rock. Bands like The Menzingers, Japandroids, and Titus Andronicus that gained dedicated cult fanbases and relatively widespread critical acclaim, bands that could headline The Fest and be a vital late-afternoon pull for Pitchfork’s Blue Stage. Sonically, I was searching for a phrase that could encapsulate a type of emo-adjacent, anthem-oriented, rough-around-the-edges punk sound that– whether due to its thematic content, narrative structure, or impassioned vocal delivery –took on a larger-than-life theatricality.
As I thought more about this description, I began to see its applicability to a wider range of bands, albums, and songs across a roughly 2-decade timespan, many of which share little in common on a surface level but converge at this weird intersection of cross-genre commonalities. After consulting a few friends who are similarly nerdy and obsessive about music (and share my love of coming up with fake little hybrid genres), I came up with the following incomplete list of Power Emo’s defining characteristics. More than anything else, Power Emo is a feeling, a classic case of “I know it when I hear it.” A band/album/song doesn’t have to meet all of the criteria, but if it meets most of them, there’s a good case for its inclusion in the Power Emo canon:
Emo or emo adjacent, usually associated with the late 2000s-early 2010s emo revival. According to music writer and emo historian Taylor Grimes, this generally refers to “mathy, tapping instrumentals and self-pitying lyrics.” They don’t have to be an emo band, but they’ve probably toured with a few. A band can make a Power Emo song or a Power Emo album but not necessarily be a Power Emo band.
Draws inspiration from heartland rock, sometimes with a sort of down-to-earth, blue-collar bent. Often incorporates Americana imagery and rhetoric as a means of subverting it. This is especially common in the more politically-charged examples of Power Emo. (Titus Andronicus’s The Monitor, songs like “The Execution of All Things” by Rilo Kiley and “Good Things” by The Menzingers)
Songs often take on an anthemic or theatrical quality. Power emo albums are often concept albums or even rock operas that revolve around a specific overarching idea or narrative (see: The Monitor, Ezra Furman’s Transangelic Exodus, The Menzingers’s After The Party, Los Campesinos!’s Hello Sadness).
If we want to take this a step further *Jeremy Strong voice* dramaturgically, a Power Emo– whether it’s intentional or not – often takes structural cues from musical theatre. A lot Power Emo concept albums loosely follow a two-act structure, and many Power Emo songs could arguably be categorized as stock musical theatre numbers. “Human Being” by Chris Farren is your classic “I Want” song, while Japandroids’ “The House That Heaven Built,” Los Campesinos!’s “Baby I Got The Death Rattle,” and the title track from After The Party could all be considered 11 o’clock numbers.
Whether explicit or implicit, there’s usually a focus on communal catharsis and the band (and sometimes the audience) as a collective. This often manifests in the form of gang vocals.
Contrast between the disillusioned worldview of its lyrical content with declarative, almost triumphant vocal delivery and an upbeat, danceable tempo. Power chords optional but heartily encouraged. As my best friend and fellow Power Emo theorist Lou Barcott put it, “Power Emo is a wall of sound you can dance to about having a bad time.” (See: “The Verge” by Bad Moves, “Kids” by PUP, “Queen Sophie For President” by The World Is a Beautiful Place And I Am No Longer Afraid To Die)
Most Power Emo emerges from a figurative or literal harmony of self-deprecation and unyielding earnestness in the face of despair. This is perhaps the most crucial tenet of the genre. (see: “Tibetan Pop Stars” by Hop Along, “Bodys” by Car Seat Headrest, “Journey Proud” by Tree River, pretty much any PUP or Japandroids song)
I’ve decided to chronologically break down a few essential tracks from the Power Emo canon in order to illustrate the very real ethos of this very fake genre:
Titus Andronicus, “A More Perfect Union” (2010)
Following a fuzzed-out sample of Abraham Lincoln’s Lyceum address, the opening track from Titus Andronicus’ magnum opus comes barreling in with the janky, reckless fervor of a Fung Wah bus with its breaks cut. In seven minutes, it plays out as a multi-movement opening number (you can almost picture a dirty-faced ensemble chanting the “rally around the flag” passage, chorus members using the instrumental outro as a backing track for an elaborate dance break. Think “Do You Hear The People Sing?” but for people who read The Hard Times and Brooklyn Vegan.) “A More Perfect Union” is the quintessential Power Emo protest song. Case in point: Patrick Stickles heralds in a sick guitar solo by flipping The Boss’s immortal words on their head?: “I never wanted to change the world / but I’m looking for a new New Jersey / ‘Cause tramps like us / Baby we were born to DIE!”
Hop Along, “Tibetan Pop Stars” (2012)
Mark Hoppus was right when he called “Tibetan Pop Stars” “the most painfully beautiful song ever.” Over guitarist Mark Quinlan’s heavily chugging riffs, Frances Quinlan rhapsodizes a landscape of Dirty South surrealism, whizzing past “hospitals and space camps” and painting a portrait of a seven-fingered man with “three sleepless wives, all equally sick of him.” If you’ve never had the privilege of seeing Hop Along live, there’s really no way to put into words how it feels to watch Frances rake their voice across the sandpaper of the phrase “creepin’ on you so hard” only to breezily float over to the second verse like it’s nothing; to cry out “why is everything so expensive?” at the top of your lungs with everyone else in the audience. When Frances repeatedly yowls “nobody deserves you the way that I do,” it’s unclear whether it’s meant to come across as a braggadocious boast or self-inflicted wound. Either way, it hurts just right, the way a Power Emo anthem should.
Japandroids, “The Nights of Wine and Roses” (2012)
Japandroids just might be the definitive Power Emo band, so much so that Celebration Rock might itself be a better name for the genre. They sit squarely in the Venn Diagram of emotionally charged DIY punk and bombastic stadium rock; their many “woahs,” “yeahs,” and “heys” are delivered with utmost urgency and sincerity; and for a while they were the first result to come up when you typed “dudes rock” into Spotify’s search bar. Given all these bonafides, it was difficult to pick just one song from Japandroids’ many entries into the Power Emo Canon. I landed on Celebration Rock’s explosive opener (literally– the first ten seconds are just a soundbyte of fireworks, soon followed up and impressively mimicked by David Prowse’s drumming). The rowdy yet earnest duo acknowledge the relative shittiness of their current existence— they’re sitting around crushing beers and chuffing darts, wondering what exactly it is they’re living for. They welcome life’s meaninglessness as an opportunity to create meaning of their own— or at the very least, to “yell like hell to the heavens” and hope that something good comes of it.
PUP, “Dark Days” (2014)
PUP have made quite the career off of songs about feeling like shit. When I was choosing which PUP song to write about for this entry, “Dark Days” just barely beat out 2016’s “If This Tour Doesn’t Kill You I Will.” While the latter Trojan-Horses an affectionate roast of one’s bandmates inside a snotty, satirical track about wanting to murder them, “Dark Days” doesn’t dress up PUP’s ride-or-die loyalty to one another as anything other than exactly what it is. There’s a longstanding tradition in punk and emo of portraying the bond between touring bandmates as similar to that of soldiers or prisoners or an equally fire-forged band of brothers (i.e.: plenty of tracks off Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, arguably a work of proto-Power Emo). “Dark Days” burns with a similarly palpable desperation and world-weariness. You can hear it in the charging drums, rubber-burning guitar melodies, and battle-cry backing vocals as PUP’s members cling to one another when there’s nothing else to hold onto. This tour almost killed them, but at least they survived. And really, what more can you ask for?
Car Seat Headrest, “Bodys” (2018)
Car Seat Headrest is not an emo band. Twin Fantasy is not an emo album. However, “Bodys” (at least the 2018 version) is one of the most shining examples of Power Emo’s emotional, structural, and sonic philosophy. It’s composed almost entirely of flawlessly crafted hooks, but the expertise behind them doesn’t make Will Toledo’s clumsy flirting and overall dorkiness any less believable. “When the chorus does come, it’ll be more rewarding,” Toledo tells us during “the building of the verse,” and he’s so goddamn right. Along with its spiritual cousins “You! Me! Dancing!” by Los Campesinos! and “Don’t Feel Like Dancing” by The Sidekicks, this type of anthem has become something of a Power Emo genre staple: the song about wanting to dance with someone (usually someone who, for whatever reason, isn’t around to dance with you), and distracting yourself from your loneliness and insecurity by— you guessed it —dancing (probably not very well, but that doesn't matter).
Camp Cope, “The Opener” (2018)
Do you know how hard it was for me not to just write “I MISS CAMP COPE SO FUCKING MUCH” and end the entry there? I miss Camp Cope’s righteous, collective anger, and even more than that I miss the place of deep, fiercely protective, sisterly love that it comes from. Love for each other, for their music, for the girls in the audience who come to the front, for the girls in the audience who stay in the back because they still feel apprehensive about coming to the front when the singer says “girls to the front,” for anyone in who’s been blocked from fully experiencing the potential joy of the music they love because of scenes that bolster the same hierarchies of power that they claim to oppose. Yes, “The Opener” is an eloquent middle finger in the face of “another man telling us we can’t fill up the room / another man telling us to book a smaller venue,” but it’s so much more than just that. It’s a band announcing to everyone exactly who they are and exactly what kind of bullshit they refuse to put up with. When Georgia Maq, her voice brash and ragged, howls “show ‘em Kelly!” it’s more than just a command for her friend and bandmate to lay down the fattest, sickest bassline, it’s the eternally echoing rallying cry of a band unafraid to take what’s rightfully theirs and settle for nothing less.
… And A Few Honorable Mentions
Little Big League, “Sucker” (2014)
Cayetana, “Scott Get In The Van, I’m Moving” (2014)
Antarctigo Vespucci, “I Drew You Once In Art Class” (2014)
Alien Boy, “Wondering Still” (2022)
Summerbruise, “Thanks!” (2022)
Diva Sweetly, “Dark Horse Lane” (2019)
The Menzingers, “Boy Blue” (2017)
Mannequin Pussy, “Drunk II” (2019)
Los Campesinos, “Baby I Got The Death Rattle” (2011)
Ezra Furman, “Suck The Blood From My Wound” (2018)
The Sidekicks, “Medium in the Middle” (2018)
Gladie, “Heaven Someday” (2022)
Ok, good, "Scorpion Hill" is in the playlist. Maybe because I absolutely wore out "The Dream Is Over" I actually prefer "Morbid Thoughts" overall, and that's the biggest, heaviest, and longest song they ever wrote, I think of it as being the most powerful?
Feel like we could have snuck a Touche Amore or Fiddlehead song in here? Or maybe the vocals are too hardcore?
Final thought: I feel like a couple of songs from that Anxious album should slip in here, and that reminds me that the package tour of Webbed Wing, Anxious, Drug Church, and Prince Daddy was fucking incredible, and I was too old to stay up for the whole Prince Daddy set but felt like I easily got my $20 worth without it.
Oh all the songs I love have a genre now, tight