Pop-Punk: The Aesthetics

The staples of an average millennial high-schooler’s bedroom: a skateboard propped up against the wall, a closet full of Hurley, and a Tom DeLonge Signature Strat in the corner. The fact that most of us can relate isn’t an accidental coincidence. Pop-punk reigned king of the airwaves during the late-90s/early-2000s. While various sub-genres such as midwest emo and shoe gaze had already been around for a while, nobody could’ve really predicted the rise of simple four-powerchord choruses with catchy hooks. Thanks to a plethora of the era’s bands and record labels—most notably blink-182 and Drive-Thru Records, respectively—a ceaseless wave of wide-eyed dreamers invested in the scene with utmost sincerity.

And so the story went that with the sound came the image and finally, the characteristics of any pop-punker the world over: wearing one’s heart on their sleeve, being overly emotional, and having a very stylized flair for the dramatic. The romanticized idea of “soulmates” wasn’t a new one and certainly not unique to any genre of music. It was, however, deeply embedded within the sentimental lyrics like an on-demand cookie-cutter. High school sweethearts were essentially doomed for inevitable heartbreak that they could then nurse with their favorite songs on repeat.

This isn’t a criticism. I myself was a frontline pusher of the aesthetics in every way with scraped knees from failed kick flips and calloused fingertips from constant “What’s My Age Again?” riffing to match. I embodied the look every chance I could and while it never really did much for me in return, it did make me feel part of something bigger than myself. I suppose the same could be said for nearly all counterculture movements. The ultimate consequences to this lifestyle weren’t just a bunch of nautical star tattoos and a colorful wardrobe thanks to local PacSuns everywhere. It created a generation of excessively softened hearts. Those who would jump at the sudden sight of a failed relationship. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with wanting things to work out with a loved one. But the reality is that it often doesn’t when you’re still in the midsts of adolescent dreaming. And if it’s one thing we all eventually learn along the way toward adulthood is that there is always someone else to give our hearts to. The sea is big, the fish are plentiful. That’s one thing they don’t teach in the school of pop-punk: a goodbye is not the end of the world.

Now in my 30s and having a new perspective on all-things-love, what are my lasting thoughts of it all? I can safely say that it was well worth it. Not just for the sense of belonging that it brought or the memorable concerts or even the self-made punk songs, but for the way that if one wasn’t around during that very specific time, they wouldn’t have those very specific memories. The oversized Discmans stuffed into our front pockets may’ve been uncomfortable, but the peeling back of a new CD’s sticker more than made up for it. Mostly though, those who lived through the era will always remember the subtle innocence of it all. That’s something that can’t be replaced and for that, I’m forever grateful to have experienced it.