You know you’ve been around for a minute when you’re going to see a show to celebrate the 25th anniversary of a record that you remember purchasing and listening to in your adult apartment over and over again before and after going to your adult job while feeling adult emotions around an album recorded by a band’s name even then you were a little embarrassed to say out loud: The Get Up Kids. Needless to say, both The Kids and I are no longer kids in 2025, but their album, Something to Write Home About, sounds exactly as it did in the year of our lord 1999. That’s where the magic is — a time machine to a sound and a place and a time before the fizzle of Y2K, before 9/11 and before third-wave emo brought shame to the genre.
Yes, The Get Up Kids are Midwest emo. They are literally from Kansas City, which, last time I checked, is in the Midwest. They slotted right into that second wave, and this album — with its pop-punk inflections and rise out of the murk of some of its predecessors — ushered in the peak of this second wave, which exploded in 2002. Before the rising third wave of a genre that became the Spencer’s Gifts of the rock ‘n’ roll world. Or the Hot Topic, I suppose. But this album was still imbued with the punk energy, played by dudes with Fenders and ironic t-shirts. Shit, the lead singer, Matt Pryor, looked like Brandon from 90210 with his sideburns and alt-pompadour. A look that I admittedly rocked through a good deal of the mid-nineties. I do wish sideburns would come back, but I think that’s a battle I will never win. The point is, The Get Up Kids were an influential band in this world — and not only in my apartment. And Something to Write Home About was their most influential album. So, why not drive to mid-Jersey to see them act it out 25 years later?
Matt Pryor no longer looks like Brandon. He more so resembles Jack Black. In fact, with his beard and kind of high singing voice (high not being a technical term) I imagine anyone who’s seen a Tenacious D show might not argue much. But, amazingly, that same kind of quintessential, nasally emo singing voice is almost identical 25 years later. Pryor was an actual kid when this band started, so he’s only now in his mid-forties, but it’s an impressive feat keeping his voice so strong and similar all these years later. It’s a pretty funny visual, actually, that voice coming out of this man with the luscious gray beard, but impressive all the same.
But let’s go back. Opening for The Get Up Kids was The Anniversary. There are so many layers of meta there. Having an opening band called The Anniversary to celebrate the anniversary of your most famous album is cool. But when that band called The Anniversary is also celebrating the 25th anniversary of their most popular album, Designing a Nervous Breakdown, my brain just folds in on itself. I was less than kind when writing my reviews of The Anniversary’s album(s) from back then, but that was back when I authored this site in a purposely douchey hipster voice, because that’s what one did in the late 90s and 2000s: created a “character” and stuck with it. Or maybe I just wasn’t a fan. Live, they’re fun and just a little weird. Ms. Hipster was a big fan of the keyboardist/singer, Dri’s, shiny jacket. She was a trip.
Did I mention it was Valentine’s Day? Yes, I dragged Ms. Hipster to Sayreville, NJ — not exactly a destination point for anything other than maybe a Bon Jovi pilgrim or a broken-down semi — to make her see a band that she probably gave maybe 1/8th of a shit about. Or whatever the lowest level of shit is that’s not no shits. She’s just a nice person and luckily isn’t that into Hallmark holidays. But, hey, we got to go to this new (to us) venue, Starland Ballroom. Our neighbor, who grew up in that area, knew it as a dance club called the Hunka Bunka Ballroom. Which is the most Jersey thing ever. He said it was advertised on the radio and hosted what I imagine was a parking lot full of Camaros and lots of hair spray and Z Cavariccis on the inside. Classy. Now it’s a rock club hosting a lot of what feels like emo, pop-punk, ska and generally very Central-Jersey-feeling type bands. Again, not being from the state, this makes total sense to me for some reason, but the Brunswicks and whatnot just feel like ska punk to me.
The venue is definitely a strange one. It feels like a dance club, not the typical hall I’m used to. It’s wide and multi-tiered with viewing positions wrapping around the stage, railings and even some stools in places. Multiple bars sit on the top tier, but also on the floor, but also maybe on the side? Each tier is one step high and the steps are also wide, but also practically invisible as you step off them. We stood to the side of the stage, which was also on the way to one of the restrooms. People focused on getting to the bathroom would inevitably miss the step down to our tier, which caused us to watch as person after person either stumbled, twisted an ankle or was basically saved from falling by one of us grabbing them as they headed to the ground. It’s a bit treacherous — especially when it’s crowded and you can’t really see your own feet. The joint must have a pretty good insurance plan. I hope.
The band played Something to Write Home About front to back. People yelled out songs and Pryor had to continually tell them something like, “Assholes, we’re playing the whole album! In order.” I’m not sure it sunk in to everyone, but this is a thing that a lot of these “legacy” indie rock acts have been doing in the past decade to celebrate big milestones of their most popular albums from the 90s and early 2000s. Great concept, but sometimes less successful in practice. This one worked really well, however, as the record is varied and includes tracks that weren’t on the US version (like “Forgive and Forget” above) but appeared on foreign releases, or American EPs, or splits and, eventually, the collection of said rarities and b-sides, Eudora. So you not only got the tracks you expected, but some surprises as well. Some of their better songs, in fact. It was also fun to be in a crowd that was clearly happy to be there, enthusiastic and actually sang along pretty well. And behaved themselves. The sound, at least where we were, was a tiny bit muddy in the room, though sounds better in the recording somehow. It’s clear that as seasoned performers with a very recognizable sound they can do this show night after night with a pretty high success rate. These guys are true pros and put on a good show all these years later.
