One of the best musical decisions I ever made was to steal the first two Paramore records. I was in the office, picking up some new CDs to write about like I had some kind of authority on the subject when I spotted the cover for Riot! in a pile of jewel cases all ready to be sent out to the winners of whatever competition we had running at the time. It’s hard to describe what compelled me to do this, but somehow I just knew that this was something I wanted to listen to. It was July 2007 and outside of the confines of punk-rock America, very few people had heard of Hayley Williams or her ludicrously attractive, riff-slaying bandmates. I slipped the albums in with the other pretentious bullshit I would pretend to like so that Fasterlouder could pull more advertising without paying their writers, got into my car and promptly forgot about them for two weeks.
Here’s how I remembered; I almost had a head on collision. When you’re a music journalist you bore of sameness and predictable songwriting very quickly. This means that you’ll often see me changing lanes and CDs at the same time. It was one of these occasions when I had the exquisite pleasure of hearing the opening headrush of ‘All We Know’, the first track on the Paramore’s debut, at a volume far louder than recommended for humans. It hit me like a fat dose of morphine and I was so involved that I forgot that I was still driving and nearly ploughed into an oncoming bus. I pulled over and sat there for an hour, playing the whole thing through, delighting in an album where each song was more vicious and thrilling than the last. I didn’t turn the volume down. Four years later, I still haven’t.
As a heterosexual male, you’re allowed to say that you like Backstreet Boys. It’s totally legitimate to admit that you used to sing Spice Girls as a tweenager. But the minute you mention Paramore it’s all over. I have been mocked relentlessly and unsparingly for my devotion to this band on a scale that is pretty ridiculous given that Short Stack and dubstep still exist. But let me tell you something, this band continues to excite me more than any other of the groups I listened to as a teenager and beyond - and I first heard them when I was twenty. Hayley Williams is the best vocalist to front a rock band since Gwen Stefani, and she’s also a far superior singer. The strength with which she belts out notes over a sound that is so much more metal than emo and clearly nods to punk over pop is unparalleled in the mainstream scene. I know this because I have seen them live multiple times and she is the real deal. Just like her drummer who pulls out fills that belong in a Foo Fighters show and Taylor York who has John Mayer’s chops, Williams isn’t faking it. Every single person who is or was in this group is dynamite at their instrument, and that’s inspiring because it means that they really love what they do.
Paramore have helped me through some tremendously bad breakups. I know their songs are probably designed for people of a different generation and sex, but it is precisely their ability to extract that core emotion and pummel it into submission with extraordinary songwriting that puts them a cut above the rest. They they can achieve this without overtly sexualising their frontwoman, dumbing down their hooks or limiting their lyrics speaks volumes. Aside from Fall Out Boy, whom I also maintain are extremely clever at what they do, I don’t think I’ve listened to any emo groups seriously for more than three seconds of my life. And yet, I own all three of Paramore’s albums.
Listen to those triplets roaring out of your speakers. Focus in on how the guitars and bass wrap around the drums. The kids may love it, but this is grown up fun. I relish the opportunity to argue with snobs about the merit of this band, to point out that they singlehandedly managed to add more drama to Twilight than the actors themselves. ‘Decode’ was such a great piece of sonic drama that I very nearly gave in to the entire franchise. Brand New Eyes, which followed it, was even better. As they hit their mid-twenties, this Franklin outfit seem determined to play faster, soar higher and push harder with every single they put out. And then they turn around and back it up with ‘The Only Exception’, hands down the ballad of 2010. So go on, laugh all you want. You can have your Guitar Heroes and Rock Bands. Mine are real and have orange hair.
- JONNO SEIDLER
Jonno edits Australian music blog One A Day where he frequently discusses his love of music just like this. He once met Paramore in the Warner Offices and wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.
