Sunny Day Real Estate
Why it’s daunting: Can you say “emo” without wincing? In 2010, the word has become associated with so many things that it’s become practically meaningless, and whatever connotations it does have are overwhelmingly negative. To defend it is to invite the most withering of scorn. And why not? If all you knew of the word was dudes in eyeliner with stupid haircuts, what would you think? It doesn’t help that the bands that self-identify as emo are generally terrible—and often too young to know any better themselves. Ask them about Rites Of Spring, and chances are they’ll tilt their heads like confused puppies.
More confusingly, virtually every good band associated with emo never identified with the label, not only because few artists like to identify with subgenres (especially ones with silly names—see also: chillwave), but also because emo’s sonic attributes have changed since the mid-’80s. What began closely aligned with melodic hardcore and punk morphed into more removed and moody sounds, then gradually grew poppier to the point that its only association with punk was power chords.
So, to recap: Emo as a descriptor has been misappropriated into meaninglessness; no good bands ever associate themselves with it; and the ones that do are generally awful. Why dig through all of that dirt to find the diamonds? Well, because they’re diamonds—even a genre as maligned as emo has produced its share.
Possible gateway: Sunny Day Real Estate, Diary
Why: What the first Ramones record was to a legion of kids who started punk bands, Diary was to a group of bands that would cohere into the second wave of emo. Although Sunny Day hailed from Seattle, it drew heavily from the post-punk sound that developed in Washington, D.C., in the late ’80s and early ’90s around Dischord Records. Bands like Jawbox, Shudder To Think, and most notably, Fugazi, had popularized a more cerebral strain of punk that experimented with dynamics—part of the loud/quiet revolution also incited by Pixies and Nirvana. What Fugazi harnessed better than any other was the power of restraint. Hardcore had been all about balls-out intensity, but Fugazi’s twisty rhythms and patient calculation made the louder, more intense parts of songs that much more powerful.
That dynamic plays out plainly—but magnificently—on Diary’s first two tracks, “Seven” and “In Circles.” “Seven” in particular shifts dramatically between loud and quiet. “Sew it on,” sings singer-guitarist Jeremy Enigk, just his vocals and a chord progression on his guitar. Then the rest of the band launches in for just a measure, each beat emphasized by drummer William Goldsmith and Enigk and guitarist Dan Hoerner’s dramatic melody. Enigk’s voice and guitar by themselves again: “Face the fool.” BA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-BUM, then into the verse, and the kind of oblique yet intensely personal lyrics that would inspire thousands of copycats:
December’s tragic driveThen a bridge that alternates an exhaling guitar solo and the gut-punching breakdown from the intro, another verse, then the bridge, which gives way to a simple but brilliantly anthemic chorus:
When time is poetry and
Stolen the world outside
The waiting could crush my heart
You’ll taste it“In Circles” boasts a similarly majestic chorus, a more pronounced loud-quiet dynamic, and lyrics even more heart-bleedingly emo:
You’ll taste it
In time
Meet me there, in the blueWhen people like Chris Simpson of Mineral would later squeal “I wanted to taste that victory, but my mouth was dry, MY MOUTH WAS DRYY-YYYY,” or Jim Adkins from Jimmy Eat World sang “I really want to care when you say: ‘I'll change that.’ / I just don't feel a thing when you say, ‘We'll get there...,’” it was easy to trace the lineage of such bald sentiment back to Sunny Day Real Estate. (The album was called Diary, for crissakes.)
Where words are not and feeling
Remains sincerity
Trust me to throw myself into your door
I go in circles running down
I dream to heal your wounds
But I bleed myself
Enigk’s lyrics are so unflinchingly sincere and guileless, it’s almost uncomfortable. They reflect the powerful longing that fuels Diary, but it never feels overly saccharine. SDRE owes much of that to the execution of the material—the music never wilts. Hoerner and Enigk’s guitar theatrics bear more than a passing resemblance to Treepeople, who were tearing up Seattle indie label C/Z Records around the time SDRE formed. Diary veers into dreamy atmospherics (like the piano and bass of “Pheurton Skeurto”), but it never wusses out. That sounds simplistic, but a little oomph goes a long way. When Enigk opens “Shadows” with his voice over a dreamy guitar singing “In the shadows buried in me lies a child’s toy,” it’s not long before the rest of the band kicks in, propelled by Goldsmith’s busy beats. (He is Sunny Day Real Estate’s secret weapon.)
Diary hovers in a difficult-to-find sweet spot, alternately contemplative and cathartic, an engrossing mix of melody, power, and atmosphere. For so many bands that came after Sunny Day Real Estate—who would essentially break up (for the first time) just months after the album’s release—Diary was the blueprint.
Next steps: If it’s historical perspective you seek, check out End On End by Rites Of Spring. (Really, you should get it regardless, if for no other reason than to hear the fantastic “For Want Of.”) While you’re ordering from the Dischord store, pick up the self-titled debut from Embrace. After the end of seminal hardcore outfit Minor Threat, frontman Ian MacKaye took an introspective turn in Embrace, a shocking move for a guy who’d formerly been known for his hoarse-throated polemics. Although even in 1986, the “emocore” label chafed:
