The Albums of My Life Take One: INFINITY ON HIGH

The summer of 2007 was the best summer of my life.
Skating, swimming at the lake beach, drinking whiskey and vodka listening to Infinity On High. I spent so much of that summer drinking and singing along to that album. I watched my head float out the open windows as the moist summer air encompassed me. Lyrics mingled with alcohol in my bloodstream, creating an internal oil painting within me. I spent so much time laying in the emerald green grass, letting Pete's angst, despair and isolation resonate through my own as it harmonised with Patrick's melodies.
Under sheets of pop-punk music, I spilt the apathy of my youth. I wasted what I believed to be endless summer skies, drowning in depression and daydreaming of better days, unaware that time was nothing more than an illusion. I allowed what the music sparked within me to consume me, addict me and defame me. It was complete and pure beauty. Chicago skyline wishes filled my waking and slumbering thoughts. I ached to go to the Windy City, the land that inspired such lyrical perfection that managed to captivate me, despite the thousands of miles between us.

The opening track is a thank you to all the support the band received, but it also opens up a discussion about the hope that music instils in people. The lyric "fix me in 45" reminds me of all the time I spent in and out of a psychiatrist's office and trying to manage the depression that was storming inside of me. So many days of my youth were spent talking to crusty women who really had no idea of what I was going through; nor could I really be open with them. The opening number is followed up by an evenly scoring arrangement of rock, insight to the culture in which we're immersed and a connection to Pete's inner struggles. I could relate to the lines about smiling in the dark, hiding parts of myself in secret places and how one's head can indeed be a prison. I started to examine my surroundings through different lenses. I'd spent the last 10 months of my life being horribly abused by my classmates and suffering horrid remarks at home. I'd felt so alone in those 10 months and felt like I'd never had anything to even try and connect to. I loved From Under the Cork Tree, but this album was a bit more mature, examined different facets inside myself and made me feel like I could be apart of something. 

The next two tracks spoke to the corruption of my youth. The pressures of sexuality, sexual influences and acts of sexual natures. It captured the ideals of love and romance seen through a teenager's eyes and in a way, set expectations for me that were never met. I don't blame Pete for this, it was just how I was and me not fitting in with the people and the area that I was living in. The pre-chorus that examines an aspect of perfection in culture. Expectations and reality are two things that rarely ever merge and often times, we're left lonely, bitter and full of negativity, despite what it looks like on the outside. That pre-chorus of "We're the new face of failure, but not any better off, bulletproof loneliness at best, at best" still resonates with me today and I'm close to 30 years of age. It taught me that I needed to look at myself and find a few things, even if it was just one thing, inside myself that I liked I could cling to it and no one could take it away from me. I wanted to be liked, but I didn't want to compromise what I liked, give it up. I still don't want to compromise my core likes or beliefs. Why should I? In doing so, I'll only end up emptier and more dissatisfied with life. 

Golden was the perfect representation of how I was treated by the parents of my peers. It still happens with friends parents despite my age. I look forward to the day when all of these uptight assholes are dead. They have no imagination, no room for any sort of acceptance and don't even bother to get to know me before they condemn me. They don't want to know anything, they don't want to jeopardise their pathetic, short-sighted worldview. So many times I was left out of things, not allowed to parties or ongoings at people's homes because I was considered a dangerous influence. I wasn't Charles Manson as a teenager and I'm not really him now, but I was the one blamed for their kids cutting themselves, rebelling or doing drugs. Look it, kids do these things because it relieves the negative emotions their feeling for short periods of time. They want to escape. Some of them do it because they want to be cool, but for the most part, they want to escape their reality. That's not my fault. It's the parent's fault. 

We're going to skip a few tracks, it's not that I don't like them, it's just that I don't want this to get too long. The Carpel Tunnel of Love. The most rock and undeniably badass song on the album. It's one of my favourites and I feel that it doesn't often get the attention it deserves. It's a shift the familiar FOB melodies and it rips into you like a maniac on crystal meth does when you won't hand over your wallet. It explores the violent nature of depression, the emotions and thoughts that are hidden under the umbrella of depression which is often times miscategorised as chronic sadness and or worthlessness. To me, depression is a warped version of hatred; it's anger toward inward. The Song talks about the romance of escapism, the wonder that freedom has and explores some of what people have to do in order to survive not just in life, but in love. It was a beautiful statement on the duality of life, emotional fragility in the human animal. 

And this is the last song that I'm going to talk about in this blog, and that's Fame Infamy. The song opens up with the underbelly of the music industry exposing the way musicians often feel and the way the public perceives them as. "For the salvation, I'm bringing you. I'm a salesman, I'm selling you hooks and plans, and myself making demands." Musicians are not only artists, but salesmen. They are selling you their work. And so many people fail to realise that these bands, singers, rappers, etc are just human beings. They are no different from the people who buy their records or merch, go to their shows or tattoo their work on their bodies. In today's society, musicians and certain artists have been elevated to a godlike status and the masses are looking to them for salvation, rather than look inside themselves to find the answers to their problems. 
The song, for me, twists and turns and explores the inspiration that mania can spark in someone with bipolar disorder aka manic depression. The volume in your mind goes up and sometimes you just can't stop the inspiration. Thoughts flow and race through you and you just can't contain them. You're filled with a grandiose sense of self, which really does go to your head. You're filled with the thoughts you're the best thing since sliced bread, you're infallible and everything you do is amazing, but then you start coming down and you realise that you're just alright. Reality smacks you in the face and reminds you of your place. 

I can't believe that it's been 11 years since this album came out. I look back through the illusion of time and can't believe all the days and nights that fill the empty spaces that have now become the pages of my life. A novel filled with violence, artistic flair, unspeakable beauty that I'll never be able to read and reflect on completely. 

This is part of a new series I'm going to be doing. I'm going to pick some of my favourite albums through ages 13-18 and talk about the impact they had on me, the memories and emotions they encompass and more. I don't know how frequently I'm doing to be doing it. I'm hoping this can also be an opening to new talks with new people about music, something that's a rare enjoyment for me.