Dynamite Boy

Pop-punk is a tricky beast indeed. There isn't a lot of room for diversity without becoming emo-pop-punk, hardcore pop-punk, polka pop-punk, or what-have-you. So those who stick to the tight moniker of pop-punk, have to be very good at what they do. Luckily, for Dynamite Boy, this is definitely the case.

It's a great album. It's nice and loud, and the melodies are sugary sweet, but what really makes it good is that it's so honest. How can you not feel something when you see that album cover. Any guy who's ever had his heart broken would see something in the picture... and more importantly, the music.

Someone said that every punk song is about one of three things. Politics, girls and masturbation. Admittedly, this was my cock-rock loving roomate, and he had mostly heard Green Day, but he's pretty close to the truth. Of course, the thing is, it's not what you write about, it's how you write about it. For some bands, articulating the pain of that lost girl is as riveting, as being there yourself. Any you have. Don't lie. To me, the best sad song is one that's played upbeat. And these guys do it, it's like saying "I'm sad as hell, but I'm going to smile just to show that I'm not." Which is much worse, and in real life, almost always the case.

So this I say to Dynamite Boy. Congratulations. You got to me. You had me thinking about how losing someone was once the pinacle of pain in life, you had me remembering simpler times before work, cars, and bills. For this, I thank you.

(And to those of you who read this far, I'm sorry for being so melodramatic. I'll write a review of something hardcore, and get all macho, deal?)