THIS POST DOES NOT FEATURE MY OWN WRITING BUT JUXTAPOSED ARTICLE SECTIONS FROM THREE EXTERNAL PIECES,

From VICE.com1997: the year emo broke – a Group of articles on various albums from the banner year 1997 – Definitely worth taking a look at this page.

A big chunk of this was taken from One article from that page: ‘The Get Up Kids’ ‘Four Minute Mile’ Was the Bridge to Emo’s Future’ By Eduardo Cepeda

From The Guardian‘The Get Up Kids apologise for inventing emo’

PUNKNEWS.ORG review of The Get Up Kids – Four Minute Mile – Staff Pick – by REVIEWER Julie River

and the material on Roger Bannister’s track record is from the page for May 6th – This Day In History segment from History.com

This post intentionally doesn’t feature any recent articles on the Get Up Kids later albums, or on how they have continued to evolve and make great music, albeit in relative obscurity to the bands they helped launch into prominence. In. My. Opinion.

From History.com : https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/first-four-minute-mile

In Oxford, England, 25-year-old medical student Roger Bannister cracks track and field’s most notorious barrier: the four-minute mile. Bannister, who was running for the Amateur Athletic Association against his alma mater, Oxford University, won the mile race with a time of 3 minutes and 59.4 seconds.

For years, so many athletes had tried and failed to run a mile in less than four minutes that people made it out to be a physical impossibility. The world record for a mile was 4 minutes and 1.3 seconds, set by Gunder Hagg of Sweden in 1945. Despite, or perhaps because of, the psychological mystique surrounding the four-minute barrier, several runners in the early 1950s dedicated themselves to being the first to cross into the three-minute zone.

Roger Bannister, born in Harrow, England, in 1929, was a top mile-runner while a student at the University of Oxford and at St. Mary’s Hospital Medical School in London. In 1951 and 1953, he won British championships in the mile run. As he prepared himself for his first competitive race of the 1954 season, Bannister researched the mechanics of running and trained using new scientific methods he developed. On May 6, 1954, he came to the Iffley Road track in Oxford for the annual match between the Amateur Athletic Association and Oxford University. Conditions were far from ideal; it had been windy and raining. A considerable crosswind was blowing across the track as the mile race was set to begin.

At 6 p.m., the starting gun was fired. In a carefully planned race, Bannister was aided by Chris Brasher, a former Cambridge runner who acted as a pacemaker. For the first half-mile, Brasher led the field, with Bannister close behind, and then another runner took up the lead and reached the three-quarter-mile mark in 3 minutes 0.4 seconds, with Bannister at 3 minutes 0.7 seconds. Bannister took the lead with about 350 yards to go and passed an unofficial timekeeper at the 1,500-meter mark in 3 minutes 43 seconds, thus equaling the world’s record for that distance. Thereafter, Bannister threw in all his reserves and broke the tape in 3 minutes 59.4 seconds. As soon as the first part of his score was announced–“three minutes…”–the crowd erupted in pandemonium.

Bannister went on to win British and Empire championships in the mile run, and the European title in the 1,500-meter event in 1954. At the end of the year, Bannister retired from athletic competition to pursue his medical career full time and in 1955 recounted his experiences in the book The Four Minute Mile. He later earned a medical degree from Oxford and became a neurologist. In 1975, he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II. He died in March 2018, at age 88. 

His world record in the mile did not stand long, and the record continued to be lowered with increasingly controlled climatic and surface conditions, more accurate timing devices, and improvements in training and running techniques. A “sub-four” is still a notable time, but top international runners now routinely accomplish the feat. Because a mile is not a metric measurement, it is not a regular track event nor featured in the Olympics. It continues, however, to be run by many top runners as a glamour event.

VICE.com’s take on the rise of EMO and THE GET UP KIDS contribution:

By 1997, the shine of grunge was wearing off and a new crop of bands was taking music in a more emotionally honest direction. Whether or not their members realized it, they were building the foundation for what would come to be labeled as emo. 1997: The Year Emo Broke explores the albums that drove this burgeoning genre that year.

The band’s 1997 debut set the tone for the teenage heartbreak and small-town ennui that would become prominent in the genre.

The eager crowd at Dallas venue The Door began to thin during the final stretch of The Get Up Kids’ set in September of 2000. Hundreds of devastated fans had no luck getting in, but many inside fared no better. Some left before their bodies succumbed to extreme dehydration while others were carried out by the dozens of EMTs who waited outside the oversold, under-cooled venue. The fervor for a band that was only booked to play mid-sized theaters was a bit surprising. Jimmy Eat World was better known, but didn’t incite the same kind of passion in fans yet. Along with Saves The Day, The Get Up Kids were one of the first. The hype surrounding them helped propel the rise of Vagrant Records, and the advent of highly marketable pop punk emo, something they later apologized for. For emo, the ability to appeal to a wide, youthful audience—and by extension a mass-market—was just around the corner.

“something they later apologized for…”

The Get Up Kids apologise for inventing emo –

from The Guardian 2009

The heart-on-sleeve indie rockers have said sorry for inadvertently helping to spawn a generation of miserable, eyeliner-wearing bands with not a song between them.

Finally, someone has apologised for helping invent emo. The Get Up Kids, the recently re-formed Missouri band that launched the soundtrack to 10 million eyeliner-wearing adolescences, have said that they are sorry.

“If this is the world we helped create,” guitarist James Suptic said, after looking into the crowd at a reunion gig, “then I apologise.”

The Get Up Kids were either second- or third-wave emo, depending on who you ask. What is certain is that they formed in 1995, released four albums, broke up in 2005 and reunited last year. And yet their earnest, heart-on-sleeve punk pop inspired much of the more theatrical late-noughties emo boom.

“There should be a How to Be a Pop-Punk Kid Starter Kit with bands like the Get Up Kids, so kids would know whose shoulders bands like us are standing on,” Fall Out Boy’s Pete Wentz told Alternative Press in 2005. “Fall Out Boy would not be a band if it were not for the Get Up Kids.”

“Honestly, I don’t often think about the state of emo,” Suptic told Drowned in Sound. “We played the Bamboozle fests this year and we felt really out of place. I could name maybe three bands we played with. It was just a sea of neon shirts to us … the punk scene we came out of and the punk scene now are completely different. It’s like glam rock now.”

While acts like Fall Out Boy pay tribute to Get Up Kids, the feeling isn’t mutual.

“If a band gets huge and they say we inspired them – great,” Suptic said. “The problem is most of them aren’t very good. What does that say about us? I don’t know. Maybe we sucked.”

MORE FROM VICE: The Get Up Kids’ ‘Four Minute Mile’ Was the Bridge to Emo’s Future

The Get Up Kids were either second- or third-wave emo, depending on who you ask. What is certain is that they formed in 1995, released four albums, broke up in 2005 and reunited last year. And yet their earnest, heart-on-sleeve punk pop inspired much of the more theatrical late-noughties emo boom.

Emo began as a largely teenage endeavor, and The Get Up Kids’ debut album, 1997s Four Minute Mile oozed with pubescent heartbreak and small-town ennuiHumdrum suburban life and the tragedies of high school dating fueled many early emo bands’ unrestrained emotion and wanderlust, especially The Get Up Kids. This 28-minute debut fully captured what it meant to be impatient teens eager to leave the comfort of home and see the world. Despite obvious flaws in production and some lack of maturity in songwriting, Four Minute Mile started The Get Up Kids’ ascent to the emo spotlight, where they bridged the gap between emo’s vanguard and its future. And while some bands chose to perpetually recreate their adolescent despair on record after record, The Get Up Kids instead evolved with age, a move that many claimed prevented them from fully taking their place in the spotlight.

The Get Up Kids formed in 1995 in Kansas City, Missouri. Everyone in the band was eager to tour, including their second drummer, 16-year-old Ryan Pope, who had to navigate around his school schedule to make the band work. After releasing a couple of seven-inches to some notice, Doghouse Records offered the band a deal and $4,000 to record their debut. With Pope still in high school, the band had to lay down their full album over a marathon weekend session in Chicago. As soon as Pope graduated, The Get Up Kids launched their first national tour with Braid.

Four Minute Mile‘s release instantly reaped The Get Up Kids the kind of attention that kept them on tour for the next year, including a European trek with Braid, where they overtook the senior band’s popularity with audiences. It’s not difficult to see why crowds flocked to embrace the young band. Their self-described “swinging dance numbers about crying” resonated with the young and lovelorn in a way that some of the more established bands of the genre couldn’t, or simply wouldn’t.

Though Four Minute Mile suffered from a flat mastering and shaky production at best, that didn’t stop people from zealously embracing the music. The unrefined sound gave the record an organic punk feel, and let fans have a glimpse of how The Get Up Kids delivered their music live. At times, the vocals can be heard bouncing off the studio walls, giving the album a confined sound, letting audiences connect with the lyrics in a more personal way.

On “Don’t Hate Me,” vocalist Matt Pryor earnestly pleads with words that could have come from just about any 16-year-old. “Oh Amy, don’t hate me / for running away from you… I’m sorry I can’t be everything to you / your place is at the heart of what I do / everything’s for you.” What on paper reads like a note passed between gym and chemistry class is elevated by the addictive cadence of Pryor’s despondent off-key wail. The Moog-style Bass Station synth on the track also foreshadowed the synth-enhanced sound the band would eventually master (with the help of Coalesce’s James Dewees) on their follow-up, 1999’s Something to Write Home About.

“Stay Gold, Ponyboy,” whose title references The Outsiders (and by extension, Robert Frost), spoke of youth and the urgency of loss. “I’ll cry ’til I can’t see the whites of my eyes / for two more years / we’ll be old enough to know better / young enough to pretend.” On “Last Place You Look,” the glistening guitars and breakdown bring a new dynamic to a sound that was still being developed. “We’ll be home in December / The leaves don’t fall from the trees / As long as you remember you are always with me,” Pryor achingly sings before the song picks back up into the driving punk rhythm.

Perhaps the most remarkable quality about this record is that, at only 28 minutes, it doesn’t play like 11 short punk songs slammed together. It’s a well-rounded album that takes the listener through various emotions and dynamics. Four Minute Mile ends with “Michelle With an L,” a six-minute anthem that gradually builds and closes the album on an epic note. A listen from start to finish is much more fulfilling than 28 minutes should be.

Along with bands like Lifetime and Hot Water Music, The Get Up Kids developed a sound that was certainly responsible for the future of emo. These were the bands that picked up where Jawbreaker left off, and each in their own way contributed to shaping the future chart-topping genre. The Get Up Kids weren’t the first to combine punk with twinkly guitars and dramatic lyrics, but they did it in a way that was severe yet lighthearted, and left the listener singing along.

Four Minute Mile wasn’t as big of a seller as the Promise Ring’s Nothing Feels Good, though part of that can be attributed to the trouble Doghouse Records had in keeping up with demand. But what they lacked in sales figures, they made up for in the kind of hype that led to a bidding war for their next album. Labels like Sub Pop and even Geffen showed interest, but after a brief agreement with Mojo, The Get Up Kids finally landed with their manager’s label, Vagrant.

With the momentum they gained from Four Minute Mile and constant touring, The Get Up Kids were poised to be one of the first breakout bands in emo, and to a great extent, they were. Their success continued with the release of Something To Write Home About, which was a masterful follow-up to their unfussy debut. The album was a huge seller for Vagrant, and helped usher in the label’s domination of the punk-influenced emo sound. But The Get Up Kids never broke to the next level.

In an interview with Popmatters, Pryor talked about why they chose to grow as a band, rather than worry about pleasing fans. “If I tried to write an album like I was 18, it would suck. Even if the songs were good, it would be a totally different headspace. You just get to a point where you’re like, ‘Sorry you don’t like it.'” The Get Up Kids embraced growth as their career continued, and as a result, their discography shows an honest band aging throughout the years.

Four Minute Mile was a snapshot of a young band with their career ahead of them. The earnest candor of the lyrics coupled with the innovations in bridging punk and emo make this album a staple in emo’s history. It’s understandable why some would choose to cling to this album desperately; 20 years later, it holds up as a near-masterpiece. But had The Get Up Kids rehashed this album over and over, the close-to-perfect legacy it left behind might have been tarnished. They played the long game, and avoided becoming a Get Up Kids cover band, something they left for their successors to do.

TOO HIGH, TOO FAST

FROM PUNKNEWS.ORG

I’m going to paint in broad strokes here, but I like to think of it like this: There have been three generations of emo. The first generation, or as we could also call it, emocore, was born in the 1980s and was literally D.C. style hardcore punk, played more melodically, with emotional, rather than political, lyrics. There were a handful of these bands, but Rites of Spring were the originator and most well known band of this generation. The second generation in the 90’s, which I’m going to call post-emo, is when the emotionally wrought lyrics and singing of emocore were blended with softer punk, or even indie rock and post-rock. This is where you get bands like Sunny Day Real Estate and early Appleseed Cast. Then you get the third generation in the early-2000’s, what I like to call the pop-emo phase, where the music shifted its musical base from indie and post-rock to pop-punk in the wake of Blink-182’s success, and that’s when emo finally became mainstream. That’s when the word “emo” turned into an insult so widely used that no emo band wanted to call themselves “emo.”

I’ve always seen The Get Up Kids as the bridge between the second and third generations of emo bands. They’re certainly not hardcore, and they definitely have elements of pop-punk, but it’s not a overly bouncy and infectious pop-punk you might hear from one of the more mainstream, big name pop-emo acts like Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance. At the same time, The Get Up Kids reach back into the post-emo era to borrow from the indie rock vibe at times, but also, at times, to borrow the more raw, unpolished melodies of the post-emo and even the emocore eras, particulary on Four Minute Mile.

Four Minute Mile is an album that is often overshadowed by its successor, Something to Write Home About. Most Get Up Kids fans, myself included, would point to Something to Write Home About as the Get Up Kids’ best album. But the way that Something’s popularity dwarfed Four Minute Mile was unusual. I’ve been to a lot of Get Up Kids concerts in my life (and they’re very good live if they’re sober) and there were a few years after the release of Something to Write Home About where the only song in their set list from Four Minute Mile was “Don’t Hate Me.”

I even remember one concert where people were shouting out requests, and I actually shouted “Anything from Four Minute Mile!” to which a guy near me looked at me and said “I know, right?”

Thankfully this didn’t last long, and if you see them live today, as I last did at Riot Fest Denver in 2015, they have a wider variety of their songs from all of their albums except for There Are Rules, and the less said or even thought about that album, the better.

So, why does Four Minute Mile get so overlooked? For one thing, every Get Up Kids album after Four Minute Mile would have the slicker, more polished sound of Something to Write Home About, which probably has to do with the fact that they moved from Doghouse Records, who put out Four Minute Mile, to Vagrant, who put out everything The Get Up Kids put out from Something to Write Home About until their short lived breakup. Vagrant, in those days, scooped up all the best underground pop-emo bands and always churned out slickly produced albums. I have to admit, rather embarrassingly, that when I was a teenager, deeply in love with Something to Write Home About, I tried listening to Four Minute Mile and felt it was too “hardcore” for me. Don’t worry, by the time I got to college and a girlfriend introduced me to The Blood Brothers, The Locust, and An Albatross, I had a whole new framework for what “hardcore” means. Now, at 33, and far from that naïve teenager I used to be, I can appreciate Four Minute Mile more than I did then.

THE DULLNESS IN POLISH. THE JOY OF OBSCURITY.

What I love about Four Minute Mile is that there’s an immediacy to the album’s emotion. This doesn’t sound like an album full of songs about breakups and relationships that happened four years ago and that the singers had moved on from. Every song sounds like the singer, either Pryor or Suptic, is on the verge of tears. Opening track “Coming Clean” is a prime example, as the album opens on a note of absolute urgency and a singing style that’s somewhere between screaming and begging. “Don’t Hate Me” is the most popular song on this album, and that’s largely because the chorus is a crude but effective pop hook, and because it’s remarkably easy to rhyme with Amy. I don’t mean that to defame the song. As a matter of fact, I love the song and, as crude and jagged as that song’s pop hook is, the Get Up Kids never really came up with a better one. The keyboards add in just the necessary touch to make this song exactly the pop song it needs to be. In fact, this album has a lot of keyboards on it considering that keyboardist James Dewees wouldn’t join the band until Something to Write Home About.

While the album mostly barrels through with the most punk sound that The Get Up Kids would ever produce, it slows down for a few heart wrenching slow songs, too. “Lowercase West Thomas” and “Better Half” swirl with guitars that are vaguely reminiscent of the post-rock associated with second-generation emo. And, for all the love that Something to Write Home About’s closing track “I’ll Catch You” gets, Four Minute Mile’s closer, “Michele With One ‘L,’” is just as good, if not better.

If you’re the kind of person who dismisses emo out of hand, I’m never going to sell you on Four Minute Mile. But then, I don’t think you should really dismiss anything out of hand. If you’re one of the people who generally skips over Four Minute Mile because you think of Something to Write Home About as where this band’s career started, I understand where you’re coming from, but go back and listen to Four Minute Mile. It’s the blueprint, the rough prototype if you will, for everything that would come in their future career. It may not be as good as its successor, but it’s still a very strong debut album, and deserves to be judged on its own merits.

THIS POST DOES NOT FEATURE MY OWN WRITING BUT JUXTAPOSED ARTICLE SECTIONS FROM THREE EXTERNAL PIECES,

From VICE.com1997: the year emo broke – a Group of articles on various albums from the banner year 1997 – Definitely worth taking a look at this page.

A big chunk of this was taken from One article from that page: ‘The Get Up Kids’ ‘Four Minute Mile’ Was the Bridge to Emo’s Future’ By Eduardo Cepeda

From The Guardian‘The Get Up Kids apologise for inventing emo’

PUNKNEWS.ORG review of The Get Up Kids – Four Minute Mile – Staff Pick – by REVIEWER Julie River

and the material on Roger Bannister’s track record is from the page for May 6th – This Day In History segment from History.com

This post intentionally doesn’t feature any recent articles on the Get Up Kids later albums, or on how they have continued to evolve and make great music, albeit in relative obscurity to the bands they helped launch into prominence. In. My. Opinion.