Not About Pedro Pascal (Sorry)

No, I haven’t written enough about Patrick Stump and Pete Wentz. The end of Panic! For which I am grateful, and the “return” of Fall Out Boy has me feeling reflective.

At the outset of their major-label debut, FOB declared, “We’re only liars but we’re the best. We’re only good for the latest trends.” And for the first few years, they were. They snipped the best bits of 2000s alternative music and pasted them into pop-punk pastiches that had no equals. 2007’s Infinity on High opened with Jay-Z and a metalcore breakdown called “Thriller.” “Arms Race” flirts with dance-hop. “thnks fr th mmrs” featured an orchestra and production from Babyface. If there was anything people liked hearing, Fall Out Boy did it til they were the latest trend other bands chased. Their loyalty was never to a scene or a sound.

In 2013, after years apart, they returned with Save Rock & Roll, which was only about half as self-aware as they used to be. It is, to my ear, a record of covers. “Just One Yesterday” is Adele, “Young Volcanoes” is Of Monsters & Men clap-folk, and “Miss Missing You” is Maroon 5. This was not a creative nadir, though. “The Phoenix” showcased Stump’s love for drum loops and Slavonic dances. “Rat A Tat” is the kind of noisy fun one gets whenever they collaborate with Courtney Love. The synthesis, successful or not, of present pop music was just that much more naked than before.

If Fall Out Boy wanted to keep playing arenas, they needed to keep making anthems. And make anthems they did. They were never as tight or snarky as before—that was all passe, now. They did not need to be memorable, only infectious. The kind of music played when someone scores a goal in hockey. And maybe that is what they’ve always made. I’m open to admitting my nostalgia turns my tastebuds and earbuds as much as the next millennial ageing into irrelevancy.

I obviously have little love for FOB’s post-hiatus output, but I can’t deny they remain able musicians, and have crafted a couple gems amidst the sports-arena slurry.

Once, I was stone-cold sober at a party and a friend, graciously and foolishly, asked me to explain Fall Out Boy. I had only a few seconds to not alienate them with dithering and details. Simply, I said they are a band that mistakenly bought in to their own mythology.

As a lyricist Pete Wentz was always suspicious of fame, even when he hadn’t quite tasted it. Both Cork Tree and Infinity were unsympathetic to the idea of celebrity. It was a reluctant hero schtick. “If someone has to be the poster boys, it might as well be us, the dorky guys who find it all so silly.” He was, in a self-fulfilling prophecy, correct. Come 2016, he penned the most honest lines of his career in “The Kids Aren’t Alright”:

“Former heroes who quit too late,

Who just wanna fill up the trophy case again,

And in the end,

I’d do it all again

I think you’re my best friend.”

I thought, “Oh they get it.” I thought this was probably the last I would ever hear from them.

Wentz explained to Rolling Stone, “It’s like seeing Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler. That character exists in real life. It’s someone past their prime that refuses to believe it. We’ll never be that band.”

Oh, no. They don’t get it all.

In the same interview Stump said, “Nothing is sadder than an old band that doesn’t care and goes out and just plays the hits.”

I can think of so many sadder things. Say, a band that still thinks they’re making hits as good as ever.

Nonetheless, I enjoy it. This is a love song to the band and to each other. “I’d do it all again” oh you mean become a music icon millionaire with your best friend? Wow what a sacrifice! Maybe I’m being mean, but in the Genius annotation of this song, the band’s official note on the trophy case line is “you get to be batman” with this image:

None of this is the song I wanted to write about. That’s “The Last Of The Real Ones”, another ode to nostalgia and a relationship that might not be the best, but is the most important in the narrator’s life. Maybe that relationship is Pat and Pete. Maybe it’s Pete and FOB.

It’s got a couple Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III classic lines. “I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me.” “I am a collapsing star with tunnel vision, but only for you.” Stump’s delivery is snappy and yappy. “Tell me I am the only one, even if it’s not true.” The implication: self-awareness won’t save you—only devotion.

Wentz called it Fall Out Boy’s “closest thing to a love song,” which is hilarious considering the existence of the rest of their catalogue. It’s not even the only love song on MANIA. The perspective is interesting though, that obsession is the only form of love Wentz recognizes. It’s a song about dependence.

“You were too good to be true, gold plated

But what's inside you? But what's inside you?

I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you

But not as much as I do, as much as I do”

This verse recalls 2007’s “Golden” which was another Wentz Lamentz Fame song. “The lives we lead are only golden-plated…And all the mothers raised their babies to stay away from me.” And while the image may not be the most original, it does speak to Wentz’s continued struggle to accept his position.

FOB’s initial output stuck its nose up at celebrity, even while partaking, as if self-awareness was bulletproof insulation against its corrosive tendencies. They were only liars, playing roles, having fun. But something about a Harley Davidson sponsored Hella Mega Tour suddenly lacked any trace of ironic detachment or self-indictment—which by then would’ve probably seemed more than a little insincere. So go whole hog.

Strutting across the stage during the combination Green Day/Weezer/Fall Out Boy/Taco Bell/Pizza Hut tour, Pete Wentz talked some real bravura about how, “We wanted to make the biggest rock and roll tour ever, cus kids don’t know what rock music is anymore.”

Pointing fingers at who “killed” “rock n roll” is a game as silly and old as rock n roll itself—it was even part of FOB’s pre-hiatus gags—see the music video for “I Don’t Care”. (Come for the rockabilly banger, stay for the Sarah Palin jumpscare.) When Bono debuted “The Fly” character, it was all meant to be a satire of stardom, so maybe this is the same. But like that Irish psyop of a band, it’s hard to satirize yourself without looking like a total fool.

So who are the Real Ones? Who is the Last of Them? It probably isn’t Fall Out Boy. When it comes to odes about tying yourself to fame’s anchor, however, they may have the best.

I promise I won’t keep writing about Fall Out Boy.