Paramore’s Sixth Studio Album Scratches A Collective Pop-Punk Itch
As the opening notes of “This Is Why” played from the stage of The Factory in Chesterfield, Missouri, last October, I could feel it. The energy in the crowd shifted from eager anticipation to what I can best describe as a collective relief. The generational impact of Paramore’s music reawoke all of us in that room. It was as if the past several years of turmoil brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic, the January 6th Insurrection, and countless other catastrophic events melted away for the next few hours. It was suddenly official, tangible: Paramore was back.
Maybe it sounds dramatic, but only if you ignore the cult following Paramore has amassed over the past almost twenty years. Or the inspired bands that followed in their footsteps. Or the much-needed inclusion of women, people of color, and LGBTQ+ individuals in the world of pop-punk that Paramore directly fostered.
That’s the magic of Paramore’s unique sound and message. The band has managed to bridge the gap between the decades-old pop-punk crowd — consisting mainly of cisgender white men — and marginalized people who resonated with the edgy instrumentals and soul-punching lyrics of Paramore’s first few albums.
When the youth of 2007 listened to Paramore’s “Riot!”, for example, they were met with messaging much different from the pop-punk music of the time. Rather than ballads that spilled over with misogyny, Paramore’s sophomore album captured angst and loneliness without isolating its listeners. Anyone who listened to tracks like “That’s What You Get” and “Fences” could relate to the sounds of heartbreak and the curiosity, confusion, and empowerment that come with being young and growing up. And nearly every millennial and elder Gen Z has danced around their bedroom, their hairbrush held to their lips as a faux microphone, pretending to be Hayley Williams while scream-singing “Misery Business.” Ultimately, the album represented the raw human experience — the good, the bad, and the fun — which allowed Paramore to rise in the pop-punk ranks for the next 16 years.
When Paramore announced “This Is Why,” their sixth studio album, after a 5-year hiatus, fans were understandably thrilled. The album consists of 10 tracks, each about the lessons Paramore’s members — Zac Farro, Taylor York, and Hayley Williams — learned during their step back from music, the COVID-19 lockdowns and isolation, the everyday struggles with mental illness, and an unending and vicious news cycle and the collective trauma it brings. The album perfectly captures global desolation that can often feel all-consuming and perplexing. It effectively creates a safe place for people anywhere to reflect on their emotional unrest and embrace that others are feeling the same bleakness and discomfort as well.
But the album does more than just stew in the darkness. In and of itself, it offers a renewed sense of hope — a hope that many of us felt was long behind us. The songs advocate for self-expression while still validating inevitable negative feelings. To top it off, in several songs, the vocals and instrumentals are upbeat and motivating. In others, the lyrics embrace love, humor, and togetherness, which balances out the depressing slices of life also represented.
“This Is Why”
“This is why I don’t leave the house,” Williams sings, backed by high-energy instrumentals reminiscent of both “Riot!” and “Paramore (self-titled).” The album’s title track narrates a person’s battle with isolation and agoraphobia — presumably influenced by COVID-19 lockdowns. But I think the message goes deeper than the shared effects of pandemic seclusion. It represents the divides carefully drawn in the American experience. These divides have quarantined us from our own neighbors. For example, a trans woman or a gay couple may find it impossible to build a community with people who have been persuaded to strip away their most critical rights. As such, marginalized people may self-isolate for their own protection. In that regard, the song is the embodiment of the traumatized human existence.
The track’s charm goes beyond the nuances weaved within. On the surface, it’s catchy and rhythmic and extremely fun to dance to. There’s definitely a reason why this was the album’s first single and Paramore’s first reintroduction into the music scene. If you haven’t watched the band perform it live yet, please know it’s a must-see. Hayley’s dance moves alone are iconic enough to grab your tickets for the 2023 tour!
5/5 stars
“The News”
“Every second our collective heart breaks / All together every single head shakes / Shut your eyes, but it won’t go away / Turn on, turn off the news.”
These lyrics describe the exhaustion and frustration that accompany a nonstop news cycle. No matter where we are or what we’re doing, the news — mostly stomach-churning news — infiltrates our day. Many of us live in a seemingly unending state of fight or flight as our phones alert us of the latest tragedy again and again and again. These daily disruptions coincidentally only heightened during Paramore’s leave from music from 2018–2022. From nearly constant natural disasters to an isolating pandemic to mass shootings to a descent into economic despair — the news, for many, has become too much to handle.
Anyone who listens to this song will feel the burden of the past several years entangled in the powerful lyrics. They’ll feel the resentment in the quick drum rhythms and the hopelessness in the cutting guitar riffs.
If you need a great song to scream to in your car after a tough day, you need to turn on (not off) “The News.”
5/5 stars
“Running Out Of Time”
“Intentions only get you so far / What if I’m just a selfish prick? / No regard.”
These words ring true for the many who have experienced the crushing weight of decision-making and proactiveness while depressed, anxious, or generally unwell. The guilt of inaction can be all-consuming, which leads to a continuous cycle of the same depression, the same anxiety, the same habits that hold us back.
The song illustrates this vicious cycle with changing chords and varied tempos that will raise your heart rate. The music video features an “Alice In Wonderland” theme, which portrays the hurried, confusing, and stressful lyrics in a metaphorically and visually enticing way. Not to mention Williams’s scream before each chorus depicts the building stress and whirlwind of emotions that involuntary passivity creates.
A different interpretation of the track has been buzzing around the internet. Many interpret the lyrics to paint a picture of a person who is chronically late with a touch of humor and whimsy. It could be a beautiful mixture of both, adding to the song’s genius.
Skip to track three when you desperately need to feel better about your own perceived shortcomings, and dance away the cortisol building within.
4.5/5 stars
“C’est Comme Ça”
While I could easily draw parallels between the previous songs and Paramore’s earlier albums, “C’est Comme Ça” feels distinctly fresh.
The title itself, French for “it’s like that” or “it is what it is,” opens a new chapter in Paramore’s discography. On the surface, it gives non-French-speaking listeners a reason to peel back the song’s message more than usual. But perhaps more notably, the vocals experiment with spoken-word verses with increased self-referential humor rather than serious discussions on everyday struggles. This provides a refreshing mid-album break from the heavy topics covered throughout.
My personal favorite lyrics are, “I know that regression is rarely rewarded / I still need a certain degree of disorder / I hate to admit getting better is boring / But the high cost of chaos, who can afford it?” Flawlessly, these lines describe the therapeutic experience and the humor that unfolds from increased self-awareness.
The song is fast-paced and only 2.5 minutes long. The rhythm changes on a whim throughout, keeping the listener on their toes and moving the song forward effortlessly.
Give this song a listen on a particularly bad day to remind yourself that no matter what’s going on, it is what it is.
4.5/5 stars
“Big Man, Little Dignity”
The opening of “Big Man, Little Dignity” sounds like it belongs on The Postal Service’s 2003 album “Give Up.” However, it quickly shifts into a modern pop beat with lyrics that match the instrumental vibe. The synth found throughout is evocative of “After Laughter,” but the similarities end there. Like “C’est Comme Ça,” the song draws from new inspirations and gives Paramore a voice we haven’t quite heard before.
The line that sticks out the most is “Your subscription to redemption has been removed / You keep your head high / smooth operator in a shit-stained suit.” If you listen to Paramore’s entire discography, the band does not use actual swear words (unless you count “whore,” “piss,” or “bastard”). Williams has sworn in her solo career, but the band has, for the most part, avoided profanity, perhaps due to their quasi-Christian roots. In a way, allowing a casual slip of a curse word seems like a signifier of a new era.
“Big Man, Little Dignity” is, on the surface, less compelling than the rest of the album, but its newness shines through. Listen to it if you’re feeling peeved at someone and want to experience vindication without leaving the couch.
3.5/5
“You First”
The instrumentals of “You First” are like the mature older cousin of “Let The Flames Begin” or “Miracle.” The song has the makings of a 2000s emo hit with edgy guitar riffs, but it’s toned down slightly to implement pop elements.
The opening lyric, “Living well is not my kind of revenge,” reminds me of Taylor Swift’s 2017 album “Reputation.” The difference, however, is the veer toward collective suffering rather than individualistic revenge. The song laments, “Turns out I’m living in a horror film / where I’m both the killer and the final girl” and “everyone is a bad guy.” This reminds us that people are complex, and we’re all just trying to figure out how to add good to the world while battling our inner demons.
Pull on your black skinny jeans, and carve a side part in your hair before you listen to this one. It’s time to embrace the emo side you’ve been repressing for the past decade.
4/5
“Figure 8”
As the opening notes of “Figure 8” play, I’m brought back to 2017 when I first listened to “After Laughter.” The song seems to draw from classic 80s rock backing tracks while incorporating modern pop-punk lyricism.
The song describes heartbreak and betrayal with striking images of physical brokenness and contortions with lyrics like “I won’t miss the feeling / My flimsy spine, unsuspicious mind / I was only being kind / But you mistook me for weak.”
The track is raw, gritty, and the perfect picture of the pop-punk anthems we know and love. I have to wonder if it’s inspired by Williams’s rocky divorce from Chad Gilbert, lead guitarist of Three Days Grace. Williams has sung about Gilbert before in love songs like “Still Into You,” so it feels fitting to bookend their relationship with a passionate, honest song about the couple’s ultimate, messy demise.
The next track does a complete 180 and gives the listener a reason to believe in love again. But for now, scream “Figure 8” as you jump around the living room thinking about your ex.
5/5
“Liar”
“Liar” is a refreshing change from most pop-punk love songs. Rather than lyrics about heartbreak, cheating, and despair, the song alludes to a true and healthy romance with vulnerability and trust. To add to the beauty, Williams’s soulful vocals are redolent of “Misguided Ghosts.”
Lyrics such as “I got too good at fighting chemicals / And dodging arrows I was asking for / Wading through the fog and then it disappeared / Naked when I’m here / And why should I deny what’s all at once so crystal clear?” explore a romance that was pushed away for a seemingly long time until denying it was nearly impossible. Fans have to wonder if the song refers to Williams’s and York’s recently announced relationship. After all, the couple were strictly bandmates since they were teens, and they both navigated relationships and heartbreak side-by-side (notably, Williams and York are the only two members of Paramore who never left the band).
This is the perfect song to slow dance to with your significant other or best friend. Make sure to add it to your romance playlist ASAP.
5/5
“Crave”
Following “Liar,” “Crave” has big shoes to fill. And, oh, does it fill them. This song provides another bit of hope and renewal that truly adds to the intricate tapestry of “This Is Why.”
Williams sings, “I romanticize even the worst of times / When all it took to make me cry was being alive.” To me, these lyrics chronicle the road of hope that appears during the long and difficult journey of self-healing and discovery. The lyrics reinvigorate the fire to continue growing. The hope is still there, lurking in the most unexpected places. Sometimes we just need the reminder, and from now on, “Crave” can serve as such.
4/5
“Thick Skull”
A closing track has an important job. It’s not usually a single or the album’s most popular, but it has to somehow wrap up the tracklist in a memorable, significant way. But how do you do that with an album about both hopelessness and hope? The answer is with a song as brilliant as “Thick Skull.”
The track’s raw vocals provide a callback to “All We Know Is Falling,” only with a more mature voice. It feels fitting to wrap up the album with the band’s roots while still committing to their new, older sound. Then, around the 1-minute mark, the beat drops and offers a distinctly 90s grunge sound that seamlessly blends with Paramore’s fervent lyrics.
The song relays, “Only I know where all the bodies are buried / Thought by now I’d find ’em just a little less scary / Might get easier, but you don’t get used to it / Keep on autopilot / hey / hey / What’s the body count up to now, captain?” These lyrics guide us toward the album’s conclusion, perhaps signifying that hard times will come, hard times will go, and we will continue to handle them regardless. It’s not necessarily the answer everyone wants to hear, but it’s the truth. And remember: the truth never set us free, but we can do it ourselves.
5/5 stars
