Emo? More like SHEmo!

I hate the phrase "emo". It's so fucking vague. What is emo? Well, if I had to create an in-depth definition, I would describe emo as whiny-voiced young dudes bemoaning lost love over a series of diatonic power chords. So what is shemo? It's a phrase I made up to categorize the growing trend of female-fronted pop-rock outfits. Power chords? Check. Super-catchy hooks? Check. Lovelorn lyrics? Check. Whiny dudes in tight pants? Nah, bro. Shemo takes all the awesome elements of emo (admit it, you've enjoyed a Fall Out Boy song before) and filters out the crap. Even shitty shemo bands are better than your standard emo fare. Hey Monday write the kind of uninspired radio-ready tunes one would expect from Boys Like Girls, or the dozens of other similar-sounding bands, but fierce frontwoman Cassadee Pope instantly makes them more likeable. Hell, if Paramore were fronted by a man I probably wouldn't be as big of a fan. Aside from Paramore, fans of shemo should make sure to give Meg & Dia (pictured above) and Automatic Loveletter a listen. Sorry guys, formulaic pop-punk is so much sweeter in the hands of a spunky rocker chick.

Review: Jonas Brothers - Lines Vines And Trying Times

Juvenile rubbish from the 21st century's favorite boy band.

I used to respect the Jonas Brothers. 2008’s A Little Bit Longer brimmed with infectious power-pop. Longer was consistent in its big choruses and tight riffs. I lost the majority of my respect for the JoBros February ‘09, when a performance on Saturday Night Live managed to help expose them as the talentless dweebs they are. The three brothers had a full troupe of pros playing as their backing band. Nick and Kevin’s hands seemed to remain virtually stationary on the necks on their guitars. Singers Joe and Nick both have thin, nasal voices and their harmonies were uniformly out of tune. Yet even after the unlistenable stint on SNL, I still held onto this shard of respect. I have discarded that shard upon listening to Lines, Vines, And Trying Times. Whereas Longer purveyed enough tasteful fun to make it a deliciously uncool guilty pleasure, Lines is a rambling and lifeless mess. Everything about it is overdone, from the bombastic horns and Nick’s bizarre affected vocals on opener “World War III” to “Don’t Charge Me For the Crime”, a grossly misguided collaboration with rapper Common. There is not one interesting or otherwise redeeming element to suggest anyone should spend a cent on this worthless pile of vapid, slickly produced garbage.

Grade: D

Key Tracks: Paranoid, Poison Ivy