You may have heard about it on NPR lately. Or perhaps through Blender, Time Magazine or friends in Mexico who rock the tight pants, eyeliner and longish hair look (whether they may be male of female). Emo-bashing has become a serious issue in Mexico.

Here in the States, emo kids have hundreds of MySpace friends, their own cliques in high school, and apparently the ability to start their own clothing and record labels as well as impregnate a Simpson sister. In Mexico, life is not so good for lovers of the modern era of emo.

Currently, emo could best be described as a post punk or post pop-punk derivative of music (short for “emotional� to the moms and dads out there) that is identified by soaring melodies and/or screaming guitar freak outs along with a very distinctive sense of fashion. You’ve got your hoodies, the shaggy hanging-in-you-face ‘do, the tight jeans for the guys as well as gals and the aforementioned eye makeup for both genders. In Mexico, this look can make you a walking target.

The typical emo rival tends to dislike the genre’s followers due to the sissy aspect of the style or because they think the music is unoriginal and completely aped from “purer� forms of music, like good, old fashioned punk.

Extreme? Yes! Inappropriate and intolerant? Of course! Understandable? Well, kinda.

Mexico is a country that has been undeniably seeped in macho culture for ages, for better or for worse. Of course, that doesn’t mean that all Mexican men are womanizing, cockfighting brutes. Quite the contrary. It’s a diverse country with diverse people and a rich cultural history. But the “machista� thing is definitely out there.

And when los metaleros (metalheads) or un punk sees what they perceive to be a whiny-looking, scrawny poseur, the testosterone probably can’t help but be brought to a little bit of a boil. On the other hand, the attitudes of a few bitter metaleros and punks really aren’t doing their group’s image any favors either. But the issue has gotten to the point where emo kids have waged their own war in the form of protest marches, promoting tolerance under the watchful eye of the police. Let’s wish them luck.

On the other hand, the U.S. has it’s own brand of emo bashers getting their opinions out in the years since the genre became mainstream. But it’s mostly been in the form of rants and raves from self-proclaimed music critics. Let me explain…

You see, back in the earlier days of emo in Tucson (that would be a good 18 or so years ago, before a good chunk of today’s emo fans were born) we had a little something that could have been called emo. Except we didn’t call it anything.

It didn’t have a name yet. All we knew is that it was a form of punk that featured heart-on-the-sleeve, often poetic lyrics, musical changes that swerved from soft, whispered and melodic to intense, guitar-heavy and gut wrenching. Some of it was poppier, some of it was punkier (and some bands fit into the self-explanatory subgenre of “screamo�), but in general it was created by introspective individuals that tended to be politically aware and often feminist, progressive, supporters of animal rights, etc., etc.

In other words, shows put on by bands like these were pretty safe and respectful places to be. In fact, the most controversial event that I remember witnessing in Tucson was when a younger uber-feminist called out Jawbox’s Kim Coletta for wearing eyeliner (she got upset for some reason). Or when a highly inebriated jazz musician/UA music student screamed at Jawbox’s J Robbins that, “You’re not punk rock!� Everyone who knew the band was horrified. The drunken young man had just heard punk (Henry Rollins) for the first time that night and had no idea what he was screaming about. He was forced to write a letter of apology to the band.

And lucky for us here in Tucson, pretty much all of the good bands came through town, the vast majority playing at the very venue where poor Jawbox was so mercilessly picked on. Thanks to the efforts of Steven Eye’s venues Dodajk (now known as Solar Culture) and the Downtown Performance Center, young music fans had the opportunity to see not-yet-legendary bands in a town that would have been bypassed.

So back in those days on a typical evening, a teen or twenty-something could pay a reasonable admittance fee at an all-ages venue affectionately known as “the DPCâ€� and see greats from Sunny Day Real Estate, Fugazi, Jawbox, Jawbreaker, Nation of Ulysses, Shudder to Think, No Knife, Mineral, Cursive, Jejune, Braid, Christie Front Drive, The Promise Ring and the one name that will be familiar to the youngins – Arizona’s own influential Jimmy Eat World.

Eleven years after they formed in Arizona, Jimmy Eat World play Club Congress in 2004. Photo by Adrienne Lake.

Soon after emo had a moniker in the late ’90s, people began to argue about who was the first true emo band and the winner was usually Rites of Spring, who later morphed into the celebrated Fugazi. All the debating is ironic because it just goes to show just how analytical (with the emphasis on “analâ€�) and introspective the original emo types could be. They loved to think, debate, discuss and share.

But I digress (typical). Back in the early days, Ian MacKay and Guy Picciotto were turned off by the violence of the hardcore scene in D.C. and fought back by starting something new, namely their bands – Rites of Spring and Embrace, respectively. They also joined forces to become Fugazi and became gentle warriors in their quest to create a fairer and more just music world by committing acts such as launching a label with a conscience (Dischord), promoting women’s rights (both via songs and at shows) and by making sure that fans weren’t overcharged. And of course, they laid down a very D.I.Y. (Do It Yourself) framework that was carried on by other bands in the scene. By the early ’90s, many were using the term “emo-coreâ€� to describe Fugazi and their scene mates, but the term didn’t seem to make it to Tucson until a little later.

It seems like emo crashed onto the indie rock scene in waves. The first wave would be represented best by Fugazi. The second by bands like Sunny Day Real Estate and Shudder to Think, the third by bands like Mineral and Cursive, which ended around the era of At The Drive-In’s (the precursor to Sparta and Mars Volta) Relationship of Command. Then things got a little shady.

With the introduction of bands like Dashboard Confessional, My Chemical Romance and eventually the most abhorrent of all fourth-wave emo bands, Fallout Boy, there was a sudden shift from the MacKaye/Picciotto-founded D.I.Y., progressive ideals that were prevalent in the first three waves. Suddenly, the focus seemed to be more on complaining about nasty ex-girlfriends via music, major label deals, fashion, fashion, fashion and money, money, $$$. Politics vanished along with relentless, dirty tube sock touring. These bands had lip-licking managers, attorneys and A&R people, all waiting to capitalize on the latest youth craze.

Now, there isn’t anything so terrible about being in a band and touting these ideas, but if this is your focus, don’t call it emo. Call it what it is – corporate poseur rock with a little whine thrown in there for the angsty teen.

The forefathers/mothers of emo surely recoil at the thought of a supposed representative of emo bleaching and capping his teeth until they resemble a set of blinding piano keys, launching a clothing line that features a line of hoodies (the longtime emo winter wear of choice) for rich suburban kids, and posing relentlessly for every issue of People/Us Weekly/OK!/what have you as possible with his nip & tucked Barbie-doll baby mama (OK, you all know who this is). Because all of these things go against the very foundation of what emo was supposed to be about. It was supposed to be real, relatable… not A-list soulless celeb/red carpet “glam.� Not sponsored by Chevron.

So Chemical Romance and Fallout Boy fans, please know – it’s not your fault. It’s the era’s fault. You just became a music fan in an era where a good thing got lost, warped and spoiled. The soul was sucked out of emo years ago and now all we seem to have left is puppets, checking their hair and makeup every five minutes. Smile for the camera!

So guys, it’s nothing personal. It’s kind of like when George Lucas tried to “improve� the Star Wars trilogy with added effects that just looked fake. Or when Coke changed their formula, thus inspiring legions of Americans that probably didn’t even vote in the election to write angry letters demanding the classic Coke back on shelves. OK, all those examples are as dusty as a Rite of Spring album, but you get the idea. “Emo� no longer stands for an ideological movement, it stands for a brand. The very thing it fought against. What went wrong?

And speaking of wrong, the bashing in Mexico is clearly wrong, wrong, wrong and shouldn’t be tolerated. But here in the States, cut us oldschoolers some slack. Because while bashing may be wrong, well, so is what happened to emo.

The soapbox is now free.