Favorite Albums: 2000-2004
25. The All-American Rejects, The All-American Rejects
Original position on my Stylus ballot: #40
Though they looked and yelped like the signed-to-Doghouse emoids they were, you could tell right away that these guys would have loved to just go ahead and be on the radio, if these Oklahoma basement show vets had any idea how one accomplished that. One sign was that they were a duo, with the yelper playing bass and the other guy doing “Guitar/Drums/Keyboard/Programming” (that novelty was a big reason I even bothered to check out the promo). Tickled by their bombastic arrangements and shameless sugar rush, I made hepper friends give it a listen. One said she’d already heard them on the radio. “No, they’re on some shitty emo label,” I contradicted. “But you will.” Little did I know DreamWorks-into-Geffen had already swept the album up for a quick reissue.
Not that my good ear was necessarily proof I’m the premature reincarnation of Jac Holzman - what’s weird is that this wasn’t a major label album in the first place. The double guitar leads over organ swells crashing into power chords and Cars-keyboard squiggles are more Disney rock than actual Disney rock is, bursting with the all-ages bubblegum I so rarely hear coming from that playground (for better or worse, the band mellowed considerably in the multi-tracking dept after acquiring a rhythm section - lest they be mistaken for Wham! - and touring schedule). Not everyone will forgive Tyson Ritter’s moronic, mewled poetry (David Cross lost his boner for the Do-The-Collapse-done-right of “Swing, Swing” in Spin after hearing the guy end a line with “faouwne” instead of “phone”), but I think Tyson’s baby blues and eagerness to please earn him a pass.
