Today marks the 15th anniversary of Chicago based pop-rock band The Academy Is…’s debut album “Almost Here,” which mean’s it’s time to finally give TAI… the credit that they deserve for shaping not only a corner of the emo music scene, but also my life.
Released in 2005, “Almost Here” put The Academy Is… on the map.
With everything from their up-beat and somewhat scathing track “Black Mamba,” to their gut-wrenching track “Down and Out,” The Academy Is… grabbed the ‘attention’ of everyone in the emo music scene.
With countless tours alongside label mates Fall Out Boy, Cobra Starship, Gym Class Heroes, Mayday Parade, We The Kings, and dozens of others, TAI… solidified themselves as part of the “emo essentials.”
Their fans grew in quantity as they released their sophomore album “Santi” in 2007, and then their final full release “Fast Times At Barrington High,” in 2008.
By the time of their 2011 breakup, the band had played nearly one thousand shows together and amassed over 410,000 fans (on Facebook at least).
Their impact was great enough to reunite the band out for an Almost Here 10-year-anniversary tour in 2015- which had hoards of formerly emo kids traveling the country to see their once favorite band back on stage.
And now, five years later, every alternative music site is still posting about the band and “Almost Here” as if it was still 2005.
And this is where it gets personal.
Rewind to 2008.
I was in 8th grade and at 13 years old had yet to figure out my taste in music.
Yes, I liked listening to the music that was popular on the radio at the time (think Rihanna, The Pussycat Dolls, Sean Kingston, early Katy Perry) but I had a hard time relating to the lyrics or stories they were telling. I was too young to drink, too insecure to pursue relationships (ignoring the fact that I was a child), and also too awkward to stray from whatever my friends liked and find my own interests.
I didn’t feel as though I fit in at school. I was overweight and going through an intense struggle with anorexia. At home I had just lost my pet dog to cancer and my grandfather was in the hospital following a car accident. I felt- as cliche as it sounds- like an outcast, and I needed something to latch onto that would make me feel “okay” again.
And then, as if someone in the emo heavens was looking down on me and giving me a sign, I found out about the band Cobra Starship via a boy at school.
Excited about the prospects of new music, I got home and immediately looked Cobra Starship up and listened to several of their songs- most of which were far too ‘scandalous’ (pun intended) for my 13-year-old self.
But, while listening to every song the band had released up until that point, I found a video titled “Bring It (Snakes On A Plane)” featuring vocalist William Beckett.
I watched that video hundreds of times- thinking it was the greatest song and video on earth. I recognized Pete Wentz and Samuel L. Jackson, who both make cameos in the video, and became fascinated. I had listened to Fall Out Boy, or at least I knew their popular songs, and was excited to find a band that was somewhat similar.
I spent the next few days googling all of the people featured on this song, listening to all of them in their own bands. And while I enjoyed all of them- no band stuck with me like The Academy Is…
The first song I heard by them was “About A Girl,” the lead single off of “Fast Times at Barrington High.”
From there I began to listen to tracks off of “Santi” and “Almost Here,” though “Fast Times,” was my favorite, somewhat due to it’s accessibility online.
For Christmas that year I asked for physical copies of all three albums so that I could download them to my iPod. I remember opening them and being giddy with excitement- forcing my family to listen to each of them on the drive home from our family Christmas party.
Every second of my day became about The Academy Is… from then on out.
I watched every TaiTV video, listened to every song, and read every Alt Press article about them. I knew the member’s names, birth dates, favorite songs. I became a member of their fan club, Santi’s Little Helpers, and used to push homework off to watch their live streams and enter contests.
I even remember where I was the day Alt Press published the article announcing that William Beckett had a daughter, and I remember telling all of my friends that they HAD to listen to their music as if it would save them from damnation.
On the outside, I was a fan girl- openly and proudly. But on the inside, I felt as though I had finally found something that was “mine.” Something I connected to on a deeper level than just “yeah, they make cool music.”
The Academy Is… was the first time I had found something I enjoyed and didn’t care if other people also liked it. And, it was the first time I found music that I related to.
I wasn’t happy all the time, and I didn’t feel ashamed to show it any more. These songs, these people, that community all made me feel less alone.
It was around 2009 when The Academy Is… saved my life.
I was rapidly losing weight after starving myself for months. My doctors were worried, my parents were terrified, and I regularly lied to both about how well I was doing. I wasn’t anorexic in my mind, I was just becoming beautiful.
But no matter how much I assured everyone I was fine, nobody believed me, and it eventually it got to a point where I was told I was going to die if I didn’t seek help.
At this point in my life I was just weeks away from going to a summer school program for band geeks with my best friends. I was one summer away from starting high school, but most importantly- I was two months away from seeing The Academy Is… for the first time on the MTVU Summer Tour, and I didn’t want to miss that for the world.
I needed to see them, just like I needed to get help.
Capitalizing on this, my parents threatened to take my tickets away if I didn’t agree to go to therapy and out-patient treatment. So I did.
I went to treatment, hundreds of doctors appointments, and began following a meal plan that helped me begin to gain my strength and health back.
But, most importantly to my 9th grade self, I got to see and also meet The Academy Is… that summer.
My mom and I both cried that day- for me, because I got to meet my heroes. For her, it was the first time I ate without crying in nearly six months because I was too excited about the show to care what went in my stomach.
As I began my freshman year of high school, I began to relate even more to TAI…’s music, and I became less and less afraid of talking about them to other people.
They became my crutch as I began to navigate the terrifying world that is high school.
If I was sad? There was a TAI… song for it. If I had a crush on someone? They had a song for it. If the guy I had a crush on posted that he was dating someone new for the one millionth time that month? There wasn’t a song for it, but “Everything We Had” filled the void.
My wardrobe became full of TAI… merch (along with t-shirts for other bands I had gotten into because of them), I adopted a kitten and named her Tai, I began to listen to more music that nobody knew and didn’t care any more that it wasn’t popular.
I didn’t want to be popular- I just wanted to be myself.
Three days after my 15th birthday my parent’s brought me to a The Academy Is…. and Mayday Parade co-headliner at House of Blues in Boston.
This was the first time I had ever stepped foot in House of Blues and also the first time I ever attended a concert with a pit.
This was where I fell in love with live music.
I remember being packed as tight as sardines in the front row, following a really awkward meet and greet where my dad told the band that I loved them and I cried. I had just gotten over the flu, and even though I physically felt like I was going to die- I was mentally on cloud nine.
Here I was, surrounded by thousands of people who shared the same interests as me. Who wouldn’t judge me for wearing a Tai… t-shirt or experimenting with green eyeliner and purple mascara (I know.)
I wanted to stay there until the end of time, just soaking in the music and feeling that happy for as long as I could.
The day The Academy Is… announced their breakup was the first time I ever experienced heartbreak.
I remember sitting at home when I saw their post, and then getting flooded with texts and Facebook comments from everyone I knew asking if I was okay.
The Academy Is… was my brand at that point, and their announcement was one that hit like a punch to the stomach.
I was honestly- at the core of it all- fine. I cried a lot, but at the end of the day fans had known their breakup was inevitable after two members left to start side projects or families and the culture of “emo” wasn’t as strong as it used to be.
What I was sad about wasn’t that TAI… was gone but more that I was so afraid I would never find something to give me the same happiness that they did.
By that time in 2011 I began to listen to several bands they toured with, including You Me At Six, Mayday Parade, and We The Kings but no matter what, TAI… was always the band I came back to.
And every time I listened to their albums I related in new ways that I never knew I could before.
The song “The Phrase That Pays” became my personal anthem as I battled with newfound anxiety and depression. “Winter Passing” became my go-to sad song after my first relationship ended. “40 Steps” became the song I based my Tumblr URL off of. The list went on.
But by the time I turned 18 and was graduating high school all of their music had entirely new meanings to me.
This band that I had grown up with was no more, but that didn’t take away the fact that I had catalogs of music to go back to any time I needed a pick me up.
I had new shows to attend, and by the end of high school had attended dozens of concerts spanning a variety of genres- everything from Kiss to Justin Bieber.
I stopped being so upset about losing TAI… and began realizing that I had infinite other bands to still discover. Every day my list of favorite bands grew, as did my list of new concerts to attend and new merch to buy.
The Academy Is… opened my eyes to a whole new world of music. They made me feel that being different was okay and that I didn’t need to be afraid of being myself or talking about my interests.
If people didn’t like it, they could ‘take a long walk off of the shortest pier they could find,’ while I got lyrics tattooed, shaved half my head and pierced my nose.
I was a more confident person because of how this band helped me grow up, and I didn’t need them to still be around to feel okay. I just needed to believe in myself.
In 2015 when The Academy Is… reunited I was beyond ecstatic.
Not because I thought this meant a permanent reunion, but because I was finally going to get to see my favorite band and thank them for everything they did for me as a young teenager.
Unfortunately, due to a lingering sense of awkwardness that I still had at 21, I never got to fully express my gratitude to them.
But now, 5 years after their reunion and 12 years after discovering that small emo band from Chicago, I have them to thank for my love of music, for my interest in the industry, and for inspiring me to keep staying strong.
I have been through quite a lot in my 25 years on earth, but because of what that band helped me through, I now run my own music publication alongside my best friend, and get paid to work in music every day at the very same venue I last saw them at.
I 100% believe that without The Academy Is…, none of this would have happened, and for that I just want to say:
Thank you William, Andrew, Adam, Mike and Mike. You truly changed my life by releasing “Almost Here,” and I will be forever grateful for the impact you had on 13-year-old me.
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