Some Days

Indulge me for a moment, guys.
Let me tell you about me and a nice old band named fun.
I worshipped the Format. When I was in 9th grade, I went to my first ever concert EVER. It was at Thanksgiving Point and it was 12 hours long and it was a giant festival and the only bands we knew were the Aquabats, Dashboard Confessional, Colbie Callait, and the Format. Obviously, we were there for only one of those. (The Aquabats were a perk though. I won't lie.) I will never forget that moment when they played "On Your Porch" or "The Compromise" and my little geeky self was like "I LOVEZ THE LIVE MUZIKS!" all over that grassy field and I bought an XXL shirt because it was the only one they had left but I love it and still cherish it to this day.
Then, I found out they were breaking up. Probably a month or two later. It had been one of their last times in Utah before the fateful disintegration.
I cannot tell you the sorrow. The agony. I still listened religiously.
A few years later, I heard the good tidings of great joy: lead singer guy was making a new band. Its name? fun.
I got a hold of their CD. It was summer before senior year of high school, I think. I was naive. I was afraid it was going to be bad. A desecration of the beloved Format legacy. A farce.
I don't know how I could have underestimated Nate. I have since repented.
I took that CD home and didn't stop listening for a week. I didn't come down to dinner. I had my iPod blaring nonstop. I don't know if you guys do this, but when you have nothing to do on the computer and you just want to listen to good new music so you set your iTunes on loop and you sit and play 11 games of solitaire just to keep your hands and eyes occupied while your ears and brain embark on a 45-minute journey to the constellations and back.
I heard they were coming to Utah. To a tiny little venue called Kilby Court in the backwoods of downtown Salt Lake. I went with friends who knew all the words too. I could barely see the band over everybody's heads but I picked up a free bumper sticker and slapped that on my red car the minute I got home, keeping it on for 3 more years. I stood in line for a free shirt, this time one that fit me. I was infatuated.
I saw them twice more after that, falling more and more in love every time. I met the man behind the music (if saying "OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH CAN I GET A PICTURE WITH YOU" counts as meeting a person) and their shows never ceased to be, well, FUN. That album defined two summers, a number of road trips, the end of my high school, the beginning of college.
And then, some months after I had last seen them live, they released a single off their new album. I watched that music video over and over and over again. I'm embarrassed to say how many times. It wasn't the same, but man was it good. And they released more songs. And they got on a Superbowl commercial. And somebody told me Glee did a cover of a song. And now they're on the radio. And three or so days ago, they released their brand new album. No, it's not the same.
But it's good.
They changed some things. They autotune. They have (in places) superficially orchestrated their songs, where they had previously masterfully orchestrated them. They have replaced an organic sound with a more refined, more streamlined, more pop-ey sound. But no, let me amend that. They have not replaced their sound. I believe they have rather added to it. Because in the end, listening to this album over and over across 11 solitaire games, the old stuff was there. The old album was there, but more importantly, the old Format was there too.
I've gotten past the stage in my life, I think, where I am jealous of my little old bands hitting the big time. I've moved past the phrase "they sold out," and I've moved past the phrase "they've completely changed their sound." Because that's the point. Any self-respecting artists takes chances, works to improve, and experiments. To stay in one place is suicide, the formula for every one-hit-wonder on the planet. The same is true for books, for art, for thought in general. Of course, I would probably be saying this even if their new album completely tanked. So I don't think the application of that principle itself fully justifies Some Nights. Nor do I think it discounts any who dislike the new approach. But I guess that I can say both that the album is good (not perfect, but good) in and of itself, and that the fact that my little old band is finally getting the recognition (and pay!) that they deserve makes me happy for them.
I think this means I'm getting old.
(But seriously. Don't criticize the autotune just because it's there. If Imogen Heap and Bon Iver can pull it off, let's give fun.'s attempt a fair critique.)
(Sorry for those of you who don't care. Which is likely a grand majority of you. I just had to put this out there somewhere. Welcome to my blog, a silent dumping-place of all of Lindsey's thoughts that no one in real life cares to listen to!)
(P.S. The album is streaming for free here. Go check it out.)

Some Nights Intro -- fun.