But how do you even know you have it in you? Let’s talk about that.

Weezer’s first self-titled was the first album I ever sat myself down and listened to front-to-back. Rivers from the get-go understood how to weld imagery in a way to fuel your imagination, into spaces of levity (Jonas, Holiday, Surf Wax) or tense corners (Undone, SIAS, TWHTALMH, OID). There’s a sense of wonder and optimism that you’d get out of let’s say, a Beach Boys record, but also a sense of isolation and insecurity (as if he’s flowing in and out of daydreaming). Pinkerton too, despite the soundscape flip, shares this same attachable dynamic. It resonated with me, and by the last track I was emotional, pacing in my room, trying to scour through these feelings that I never knew could be expressively utilized. It remains one of, if not my favorite album ever.

Back then, I never viewed Weezer outside of the 90s alternative rock wave. Later I fell in love with Jonathan Coulton, who does a similar, but humorous style of soft rock that melds hooks with punchlines. When I discovered OZMA from a Spotify shuffle, I never knew you could cram so much epic-osity around a melodic hook. The rabbit hole was endless: Weezer led me to Billy Cobb, to End Transmission, Jeff Rosenstock, Sanglorians, Fountains of Wayne, Ovens, the list goes on. A swath of artists that nail the dynamics of angst and pop rock songwriting.

Pop rock…well no, that’s like, Maroon 5 or something, right? I guess it would apply to the Beatles, but they’re old! You could say nostalgia is an ingredient, for sure, but for the final product to come out fresh you need a novel sort of edge, right? Simply, heavier guitars tamed by accessible hooks.

Power pop*…that’s it. I guess it could be both, though. You’ll find out later that I hold a pretty broad-spanning perception of what is and isn’t power pop.

Of course I’m no one-genre-pony, but as soon as I got my first guitar (a cherry ‘79 Stratocaster), I wanted nothing more than to try to emulate what I heard on Blue. This decision put me in lessons, band camps, and what I want to touch on a bit more, social media.

As a sub-rural teenager, social media really did seem like the big city, a sporadic drive around Nashville. The communities I found myself stopping by held a diverse insight into my fledgling interests. At first, I used Instagram to simply share demos with a close-knit group of school friends and bandmates. Just existing on the app, however, put me in arm’s reach of fandoms, and excuses to jump to more niche platforms (at least by 2018 standards) like Discord or even later on with AlbumOfTheYear.

Through these channels, not only did I find conversation, but a sharing of passion. I’ve interacted with big-name rockstars, producers, archivists, songwriters and listeners alike. My passiveness would have never put me in these situations offline. I would have a vastly different understanding of my music taste and the industry at whole. I would lose a vast context.

This ecosystem is an unending spout of energy, that is most certainly kinetic in it’s effect.

Years later and now I, because of my indecision, have skipped out of sharing my own passion. I’ve welcomed heavy shame towards that but little action. There’s been a sort of aimlessness to me that has completely withered my self-esteem. This Substack is going to be remedy of sorts. To continue what started as lists and single paragraph-long reads into something a tad bit more beneficial, for the both of us. I hope you’ll bear with me as I figure it out.

*And yes, I know power pop is a subgenre of pop rock.