The Get Up Kids - There Are Rules (Deluxe Edition) (2021) Hi-Res

For their latest album, the Kansas City emo outfit again drafts the help of producer Bob Weston (Mission of Burma, Shellac).

Perhaps no band has gone further to disassociate itself from emo than the Get Up Kids, which shouldn't be a huge surprise: Their brand of pining pop-punk, which became the predominant sound of early-2000s alternative rock, was probably more despised by punk and indie kids than any other chart-toppers at the time-- post-Disney pop, nu-metal, big beat electronica. No one got it worse than the Get Up Kids, attacked with the vigor of a scene that finally got to pick on someone its own size. Existing somewhere between the Promise Ring and Jimmy Eat World-- but lacking the former's jittery roots and the latter's obvious pop ambitions-- they once worked with Bob Weston (Mission of Burma, Shellac) and chose not to leave Vagrant, and yet somehow an air of dishonesty was projected on them. Considering they were just some guys from Kansas City who wanted to write songs called "Anne Arbour" and cover Mötley Crüe, I'm not sure the churlish punishment fits the crime.

There Are Rules isn't a return to form sonically-- neither to the limp, acoustic bowouts of On a Wire or Guilt Show nor to the eager-to-please effervescence of Something to Write Home About-- but a return to results, a just-all-right record from a band that always felt a step behind even in their own genre. The announcement that Weston was brought back in certainly perked some ears, but anyone expecting his gnarly edge to improve much on their material is destined to be disappointed. "Tithe" and "Birmingham" are the most obvious beneficiaries of Weston's imprimatur, and they snarl more than anything the Get Up Kids have done in the past. But these dudes just can't do menace, in large part because Matthew Pryor's vocals are the literal embodiment of "snotty," emanating almost completely from his nostrils.

What they can do is momentarily remold themselves in the form of borderline-emo go-getters Hot Hot Heat on spasmodic word puzzles "Automatic" and "Pararelevant", or regain some of their caffeinated buzz on "Regent's Court". And though they have dabbled in synth-pop before, "Shatter Your Lungs" is a legitimate surprise-- Pryor's vocals soften and let the tumbling melody come to him rather than force it, hinting at the sort of maturity There Are Rules should have aimed for.