To qualify for approval on the American emo punk scene, you had to be gnarly, melodically 'challenging' and denounce the very concept of a hit forever. So when Arizona's Jimmy Eat World broke for the Billboard border with their eponymous album in 2002, the 'sell-out' brickbats inevitably flew. Now their fourth album, stuffed with Fountains Of Wayne-but-shoutier chug-poppers like "Pain", arrives as a kind of Joshua Tree for the heavily pierced and mildly upset. And thoroughly pleasant it is, too: more Foo Fighters than Fugazi, and all the sparklier for it. MARK BEAUMONT
To qualify for approval on the American emo punk scene, you had to be gnarly, melodically ‘challenging’ and denounce the very concept of a hit forever. So when Arizona’s Jimmy Eat World broke for the Billboard border with their eponymous album in 2002, the ‘sell-out’ brickbats inevitably flew.
Now their fourth album, stuffed with Fountains Of Wayne-but-shoutier chug-poppers like “Pain”, arrives as a kind of Joshua Tree for the heavily pierced and mildly upset. And thoroughly pleasant it is, too: more Foo Fighters than Fugazi, and all the sparklier for it.
MARK BEAUMONT
