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May 26, 2022 Web Exclusive By Austin Saalman

Return for a moment, dear and faithful reader. See yourself not as you are now, but as you were then: 16-years-old, clad in your favorite Academy Is… T-shirt and a pair of neon yellow (wait…or, were they zebra print?) skinny jeans, fresh from Hot Topic at the nearest mall. It is August 2009 and school begins next week. Sophomore year. What you know is that the opinions of others have never mattered more than they do at this moment. What you don’t know is that the entire third wave emo movement and its various offshoots have since entered their twilight. Within the next couple of years, little of this will seem recognizable. For now, however, it is still early on and not even summer break has ended. Of course, with Cobra Starship’s newly-released third album Hot Mess burning away in your stereo, you halfway suspect that you have at last located the secret elixir, the possibility of an eternal summertime, and it is right here, nestled somewhere in between those bubbling synth riffs and hopping dance beats.

While Cobra Starship’s official origin story of a peyote “vision quest” taken by frontman Gabe Saporta in the Arizona desert may seem poetically appropriate, the blueprint of the group’s sound was, in reality, much more like those of its fellow “scene” contemporaries. As writer Erin Coulehan observed in her October 2021 Paper Magazine article on the Hot Mess reissue, it was far less a product of cosmic mysticism than a response to the socioeconomic strife and millennial disillusionment of the mid-’00s. Saporta, formerly of influential New Jersey cult emo act Midtown, was most certainly the necessary figure to usher in the Apocalypse, which, according to his desert prophecy, was most certainly around the corner. Like a phoenix, Saporta had recently risen from the ashes of his former group as something greater. He imagined Cobra Starship as an extramundane musical ensemble, rooted in hip-hop and ’80s-style synth pop, while remaining loyal to Midtown’s classic pop-punk base and catering to the booming Warped Tour scene. The act emerged to regale the young mall-goers and Friday night rebels with generational classics such as “Snakes on a Plane (Bring It),” “Prostitution is the World’s Oldest Profession (And I, Dear Madame, Am a Professional),” and “Guilty Pleasure,” signing to Decaydance and supporting Thirty Seconds to Mars on their 2006 Welcome to the Universe Tour. Three years on, Saporta had long since integrated himself with the current generation, eschewing Midtown’s “underdog” image in favor of purple hoodies, shutter shades, and lusty lyrics boasting of his own prowess, sexual and otherwise. Upon its release, Hot Mess peaked at number four on the U.S. Billboard 200 chart, although Cobra Starship lyrics already littered countless Myspace profiles.

The glitz and often gaudy decadence of the late-’00s is faithfully cataloged on Hot Mess, with keyboardist Victoria Asher and guitarist/synth player Ryland Blackinton creating a classic consistently party-friendly atmosphere as Saporta spits sentiments of flamboyant vanity and carefree hedonism. The album’s sweaty title track establishes Saporta as perhaps the greatest emo faux blue-eyed soul singer this side of Patrick Stump, while fan favorite “Good Girls Go Bad” features a fantastic guest performance by actress Leighton Meester, whose hit show Gossip Girl was enjoying peak popularity at the time. Tongue-in-cheek anthems “Pete Wentz is the Only Reason We’re Famous” and “You’re Not In On the Joke” place Cobra Starship in step with the likes of fellow Warped Tour darlings Fall Out Boy, and standouts “Living in the Sky with Diamonds” and “Wet Hot American Summer” see the group perfect its unique genre mutation.

Still, Hot Mess’s finest moments occur on its most intimate tracks, which find Saporta embracing an approach of confessional introspection. “Fold Your Hands Child” and “The Scene is Dead; Long Live the Scene” stand as two of Cobra Starship’s greatest offerings, balancing danceable beats and irresistible hooks with lyrics of romantic intrigue, uncertainty, and resentment, Saporta singing on the latter, “Maybe you’ll understand when I’m gone/That you had no idea at all/That at this very second/I’ll never mention the dreams I keep from you.” Organ-driven closing track “The World Will Never Do” serves as something of a comedown anthem, the post-party haze in which one wanders back out into the night. B.o.B. has a featured verse, on which he shines—an interesting contrast against Saporta’s smooth vocals.

Once that final track has faded, you suddenly realize that perhaps the time for nostalgia has indeed arrived. Your favorite songs, those melodic roadmaps by which you once navigated that magical and manic hellscape, otherwise known as high school, now sound “of a place and time”—in other words, dated, obsolete, and out-of-step. They have officially achieved relic-hood—only fueling the bittersweet sensation of hearing the racket of that distant world some 13 years later. In honor of Fueled by Ramen’s 25th anniversary, the Hot Mess vinyl reissue should serve as a warm throwback for those old enough to recall the scene in its vibrant heyday.

The reissue comes equipped with “Beautiful Life” and “Party With You,” two previously unreleased tracks recorded prior to the group’s 2015 split. Old fans may rejoice, as the latter is an especially strong Cobra Starship cut possessing plenty of classic appeal. With popular culture hosting a fairly prevalent emo revival in both music and fashion—not to mention this November’s planned “Emo’s Not Dead Cruise”—the Hot Mess vinyl reissue may also be of interest to some younger listeners. It might even be the ideal gift for these possible end times, providing its intended function of instigating dance parties the world over as the horizon darkens and the sky rains fire down upon the land. ¡Viva la Cobra! (www.cobrastarship.com)

Author rating: 7.5/10