Remember (or imagine) the cycle of initiation going on in the bedroom of a punk kid in the nineties, the one who giggled at Unfun. The one who got serious, and felt like the king of Chesterfield every time he listened to Bivouac, and who entered 24 Hour Revenge Therapy with the confidence of somebody entering a friend’s house. He was the one whose little underground heart broke when Dear You moved towards mainstream, although later he understood that, in order to grow, sometimes you have to look ahead and leave that bedroom that you know inside out. You can open your eyes now. Here you are again, Jawbreaker and you face to face again after such a long time. The t-shirts are even more worn out. The songs - Parabola, Boxcar, Indictment…- are as explosive and vital as they were twenty five years ago, when they raised the emotional fortress of a whole generation.
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