Bands. Brand New. Taking Back Sunday. Acceptance. Motion City Soundtrack. Kill Hannah. Mae. Coheed and Cambria. Postal Service. Death Cab for Cutie. Thursday. From Autumn to Ashes. As Tall As Lions. Feeling Left Out. Hot Hot Heat. Fall Out Boy. The Smiths. Nirvana. The Cure. Something Corporate. Straylight Run. OK GO!. Copeland. Count The Stars. Billy Talent. Garbage. Funeral for a Friend. Bright Eyes. JamisonParker. Die Radio Die. Coldplay. Tripside. Eisley. Mars Volta. Rocking Horse Winner. Weezer. Save Ferris. Yellowcard. Armor for Sleep. The Von Bondies. The Ataris. Le Tigre. Goo Goo Dolls. Hot Rod Circuit. Zebrahead. 30 Seconds to Mars. Matchbook Romance. A Static Lullaby. Jack Off Jill. Lifehouse. Saves the Day. Majandra Delfino. Jimmy Eat World. Patent Pending. Story of the Year. Early November. Wheatus. Many More.
I am a self proclaimed dorky, obsessive, music crazy, movie loving, over analytical, fag hagish, mood changing, phase loving, whining insecure hypochondriac of an emo kid.
That's me, don't like it? Don't add me, that simple.
You're more punk, hardcore, mod, straight edge, emo, indie than me. Your hair is cooler, your pants are tighter, you have more tattoos. You have cooler pins on your messenger bag and your favorite band is more obscure than mine. Your shoes are more vintage and so is your t-shirt. You own more black clothes than me. I don't even own a trucker cap OR a denim jacket. Your glasses are thicker and blacker than mine, the plugs in your ears are bigger. You know more people in bands and your black jelly bracelets are the envy of scenesters everywhere. Your photography is blacker and whiter, your Makeoutclub profile is wittier, and you have much better soul records. Your tie is whiter, or redder, or blacker. Your scene points are double, perhaps triple, mine. Because as we all know, that's what really matters. In a scene where the music has taken a backseat to the haircuts, you win and I lose.