Maturation, Uncertainty, and Brotherly Love: Dissecting Pennsylvania’s Punk Rock Scene

By: Tommy Walzer

It’s been 20 years since Pennsylvania punks Weston released their first record, A Real Life Story of Teenage Rebellion. Weston never found the mainstream popularity that other pop-punk acts enjoyed during that time, but their cult legacy and influence lives on in today’s Keystone State bands.

I recently had the pleasure of seeing Philadelphia’s Modern Baseball open for veteran pop-punk outfit Say Anything. It was the most fun I’ve ever had at a show, despite having some guy’s teeth cut into my head in the pit. I felt something I hadn’t really felt at any other show before. It was a generational bond that gripped me and gave me a cathartic, guilt-free juvenile release. At age 22, I have to grapple with the imposing responsibilities of adulthood, but I’m also as old as the members of Modern Baseball, and damn were they having fun.

Modern Baseball present candid, humorous glimpses of young adult life over simple but invigorating musical arrangements. On “Rock Bottom,” Lukens and Ewald whine, “After reading that text from your friend/ I started losing all my confidence/ so I’ll stay tired I know soon I’ll be bailing.” These guys are the mouthpiece for a largely millennial fan base, their lyrics littered with situational comedy and tragedy crafted for the social-media savvy. Their motto, “Whatever, Forever,” epitomizes a life of passive-aggressive uncertainty. Despite this, the majority of the band members possess the dedication to attend college at Philadelphia institutions such as Chestnut Hill College and Drexel University. They’re navigating young adulthood with the same success as the rest of us; they just have the talent and honesty to make albums about it.

I want to place the emphasis on honesty here. After all, punk rock doesn’t require much but a rudimentary understanding of your instrument, and clothing that can afford collecting a few PBR stains. All that really matters is whether you can bleed your heart out on stage. The rest goes out the window, along with the crowd’s inhibitions.

“If I was in high school, this kinda shit would have saved my life—which it did,” exclaims Spraynard guitarist/vocalist Pat Graham on a live recording from his parent’s house. The West Chester, PA outfit released their latest album, Mable, this July. Like their earlier works it’s a mix of short, sweet, shoulder-shrugging anthems about love and self-acceptance, and bleak (but equally sweet) testimonies. The tunes are performed with passion and gusto, with each element of the music very carefully pronounced. It’s as if Spraynard is telling us to forget everything and live in the moment, as measured by the length of each song. “I hate my own body/But I am fucking lazy/I sit here wanting change but end up doing the same damn thing,” sings Graham on “Pond.” A lot of bands might come off as being desperate for attention with this kind of self-deprecation, but I doubt that’s important to Spraynard. Their qualms possess a certain carefree feeling that says, “Don’t overthink this, just dance, laugh, and maybe cry too if you want.” These guys aren’t trying to be something they’re not, and neither should you.

It’s a trope common in these parts, perfected in basements “caked in stale beer and sweat under half-lit fluorescents,” as The Wonder Years (TWY), another Philly outfit, put it in their song “Came Out Swinging.” It’s in these intimate settings that true camaraderie is forged, just as it was in the 80s and 90s punk and hardcore scenes. The music is raw, tell-all, and fueled by DIY spirit. But it’s not uncommon for it to grow and develop into something more. As TWY continue to look back on their new record No Closer to Heaven, it’s definitely a step forward for them. The songs gain a sense of maturity through improved guitar work and studio production, and overall they just feel more personal (the video for “Cardinals” hits hard). These elements shine through on tracks like “The Bluest Things on Earth” and “Stained Glass Ceilings.” But that’s not to say that the album doesn’t have the pop-punk punch of their earlier works. Remember, everyone in this scene is in it together; that means reaching for more, but also never letting go.

The idea that growing up calls for a change of pace is embodied in the evolution of another Kingston, PA band-- Title Fight. Formed in 2003, Title Fight began playing fast and loud post-hardcore songs that could lean towards traditional pop punk as well as fierce hardcore-oriented styles. On their 2015 album Hyperview, the band has nearly completely shed this style in favor of a slower, dreamy dismalness reminiscent of 90s acts like Sunny Day Real Estate and perhaps even Nirvana. Aside from angering scores of YouTube commenters, I think this change signifies a turning point for the band, and for many bands entering their second decade of existence.

At some point, growing up becomes more about embracing the youthful spirit inside of us than it does holding on to the past. Title Fight are very aware of this. “Lately life moves slowly/ I stop to smell a rose/Inhale, press its thorns against my nose,” lead vocalist Jamie Rhoden hoarsely yells on “Rose of Sharon.” The kind of music they play has always been about finding inspiration in the lasting quality of emotional pain, but this time around it has found a way to resonate even deeper. Dreamy, reverb-saturated guitars swing and sway over slightly muffled vocals begging to be at the forefront. The lyrics are like battle cries from the losing side, and give the music a sense of gloomy reminiscence. It is with this new sound that the band maturely articulates the lingering pangs of yesterday.

Is the music there with you, or is it there for you? That’s important to consider when listening to an artist you enjoy. Thinking back to that Modern Baseball show, I remember feeling like everyone was on my side, including the band. I don’t know how else to end this piece than in a cliché way, with a song lyric from the good ‘ol boys in Spraynard: “If we’re gonna die tonight, I wanna be by your side/Be right by your side, ‘cause you’d be right be mine.” Because even if I am one day stripped of all my relational and material happiness, at least I have the music to keep me in check and reassure me that I’ll never be completely on my own.