Low Fidelity: American Football Review

Math rock/emo/twinkly legends American Football have returned, after 17 years, for their second, self-titled album, which picks up exactly where the first left off.

Still-present are the twinkly guitars, odd-metered rhythms, and confessional-while-poetic lyrics that garnered the band so many fans back in the days of yore (and by that I mean the 90’s). The cover features an interior shot of the same iconic house (704 W. High Street, Illinois) from their debut, and the lineup remains more-or-less unchanged.

That’s not to say these emo sportsmen haven’t evolved. The music is slightly more bassy, and dare I say, heavy? Opener “Where Are We Now?” features an almost shoegaze-sounding chorus, complete with Mike Kinsella’s nasally croons about the depths and complexities of human emotion.

However, American Football are a band who, due to the nature of their initial work, are trapped in permanent adolescence. By writing songs in their early 20’s about their feelings, they have confined themselves to that same mold at whatever age they are. In this case, Kinsella is 39 years old, automatically distancing this new album from many younger fans.

Fortunately, even if the band hasn’t exactly aged well lyrically, their music certainly has. Emo kids in horn-rimmed glasses and vintage shirts are going to be bobbing along to this album like there’s no tomorrow.