From The Basement: A History Of Emo Music And How It Changed Society

There are very few (if any) recent books documenting the rise and fall of ’emo’ music, a label that was heavily popularised during the noughties following the success of bands such as My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. Used to stigmatise these bands and their adulating fans as often as it was to celebrate them, it could be argued that emo nevertheless had a greater impact on pop culture than any other genre of music during this period. A teenager myself at the time, I was heavily invested in the success of the genre, regaling my friends with band / song recommendations that I myself had learnt about watching Kerrang! or Scuzz TV.

As such, I was really excited to read From The Basement: A History of Emo Music And How It Changed Society by Taylor Markarian, released in 2019. Whilst it can sometimes feel like “credible” music journalists seem ashamed to acknowledge the emo movement’s cultural significance, it was clear just from reading the blurb that Markarian is not just another critic, but someone who has lived and breathed emo culture for the past twenty years. Whilst this can be both a positive and negative thing when it comes to dissecting a movement and its cultural impact, as a fan of the genre I was very much looking forward to reading an account that would acknowledge rather than attempt to deny the genre’s importance.

Besides, emo’s impact on many of the artists of today is undeniable. Crossover artists such as Yungblud and Juice Wrld market a weird blend of emo and hip-hop (whilst still sounding very different from each other), representing a natural progression from the ‘SoundCloud rap’ sound that was very much in vogue during the past decade. Streaming has added to emo’s longevity. Whilst the internet may be the reason that many emo bands can no longer make money from album sales, it is also the reason the genre still manages to influence upcoming artists today. Emo’s comeback moment may mean that its annals soon need to be revisited, if not rewritten.

Markarian’s book leads the way, exploring the genre’s origins and its defining qualities. She makes the point that, like most subcultures of rock, emo music came about following a strange amalgamation of sound and attitude. Sad but incredibly uplifting, the emo ‘sound’ did change somewhat when the baton was passed from its ’90s forefathers to the generation that defined its place in popular culture, but the one constant was the personal and relatable lyrics (the ‘attitude’), which would remain at the forefront throughout. So whilst bands like Taking Back Sunday and Brand New added a theatrical element to the scene, paving the way for emo to become known as a fashion and lifestyle choice and not just a genre of music, there was an incredible amount of depth behind the bravado, which Markarian captures expertly.

She does concede that what these new elements did offer the movement was a new visual aesthetic that allowed it to break through to mainstream music and television, in the same way glam metal did in the ’80s. Unlike Motley Crue and Poison however, musicians in the emo scene actually had something interesting to say. Poetic and introspective lyrics from punk bands was a new thing and in my opinion, the advent of the iPod aided its search for an audience, because solitary headphone listening on a commercial scale made lyrics as important as the music once more. And sure, many of the lyrics were incredibly abstract and zany, but they were always about specific things and situations, which almost all of us could relate to, especially as teenagers. It’s actually one of the many fan comments included at the end of the book (which in itself was a nice touch, emphasising the importance of community to the emo scene) that summed this up best in my opinion: “Emo was punk rock that you could listen to when you were having the absolute worst day or best day of your life… which was basically every single day as a teenager and early twenty-something”.

Markarian pays consideration to the impact emo music had on the conversation around mental health, praising this first generation of bands for encouraging others to be more open about their emotions. Whilst some may argue that later generations of emo bands actually glamourised mental health and suicide in the same way Instagram supposedly does today, it’s impossible to deny emo’s contribution to the mental health conversation. It was a great leveller for sexism in particular, because it laid the foundations for it being okay for me to talk openly about their feelings and acknowledge that it’s okay not to be okay. Chris Conley – one of the many artists interviewed for the book – notes that grunge music paved the way for this change. Despite the lyrics of Kurt Cobain being mostly gibberish in his opinion, he argues that if you listen through the music you can sense the alienation and hurt that he was feeling at the time. However, it was the bravery of emo’s forerunners whose honesty finally gave men poetic licence to talk about their feelings. Emo had so much healing power, and by singing about mental health, emo made it acceptable to talk about mental health, and Markarian rightly notes that the more we talk about mental health, the more we lessen the stigma.

She argues that the root cause of this change in approach was the fact that this generation of kids never expected to make it out of their basements, so wrote songs for themselves that were deeply personal. In other words, this was teenage poetry put to music and given that Americans have always been so much more open about their feelings than the British, it’s easy to see why this is one of the few genres of music that America has always done right but the UK has rarely managed to pull off with any great success. Coupled with the fact that many American artists around this time had a lot of existential questions on their mind after 9/11 (I’ve written previously about New York punching below its weight musically, but when it comes to emo there are a number of bands from the greater state area and next door in New Jersey such as Taking Back Sunday and Brand New that I adore), emo’s lyrics struck a chord with the lost and hopeless all around the world. And the fact that punk was no longer front and centre as it was in the ’70s and ’80s when it was the language of the streets, meant that this new breed of artist had time to craft melodies and hooks in their basements before releasing them into the world.

All things combined, it’s easy to see why myself and so many other teenagers at the time found something in emo that added so much to our being. Whilst a little dramatic, I can understand what Markarian means when she argues that emo is not just a hobby or interest, noting that for some it is as much a part of their identity as their gender or sexual orientation.

This identity was underscored by emo fashion, which made it easier for fans to identify those with similar tastes, adding to the sense of community around the movement. This was probably the last time that the idea of separating oneself from the norm was seen as desirable, before the internet homogenised how people dress worldwide. It’s also easy to blame the internet for emo’s downfall, with illegal file-sharing and streaming leading to declining album sales. As the spotlight veered toward the single release, radio was no longer a promotional tool for album sales, and rock music – which traditionally prioritized the full-length – was the main genre to suffer.

That said, emo culture is still pervasive. Many modern day artists have clearly been heavily influenced by the lyricism of the genre and for that reason, I imagine Markarian’s book will gain a lot of new fans over the coming months. Anyone interested in reading her account will be glad to know that she’s succeeded in painting a very thorough picture of the scene, from its origins through to its heyday, and subsequent influence today.

My main takeaway from From The Basement is a complaint to the author however, for claiming in the foreword that it is now possible to get a degree in ‘Punk Rock History’. That’s because my excitement at learning this quickly turned to disappointment – upon performing a search for the course online, I learned that one does not in fact exist, at least from what I can tell. Sadly, it looks like I’ll never be able to formalise my claim to being an expert in all things punk rock after all.