Machine Gun Kelly
– Mainstream Sellout
If Tickets to My Downfall was MGK’s angsty, neon-pink pop-punk rebirth, Mainstream Sellout feels like the morning after—hungover, pissed off, but still determined to prove something. It doubles down on the sound he carved out with Travis Barker: power chords, whiny nihilism, and a high-gloss nostalgia trip back to the early 2000s. But while the energy is there, the cracks are showing, and at times, they feel intentional.
There’s a sense of exhaustion lurking under all the bratty bravado. MGK swings between sneering self-awareness and outright petulance, calling out critics while simultaneously making their case for them. The hooks are still massive, the production polished within an inch of its life, and the guest spots keep things moving, but the whole album plays like a mix of defiance and insecurity—an artist fully embracing his lane while daring you to tell him he doesn’t belong in it.
Is it fun? Yeah, in the way a sugar rush is fun before the crash. Is it groundbreaking? Not at all. But Mainstream Sellout knows exactly what it is: a record designed to get under your skin, whether you’re singing along or rolling your eyes. Love it or hate it, MGK isn’t asking for permission—he’s too busy dyeing his tongue black and jumping headfirst into another mosh pit.
Choice Tracks
“Maybe”
A high-energy, radio-ready anthem with a guest spot that gives it some extra edge. The kind of song built for blasting in a car with the windows down, even if you’re half-mocking it.
“Emo Girl”
Pure pop-punk camp, and MGK knows it. The lyrics are ridiculous, the hook is absurdly catchy, and it’s impossible to take seriously—but that’s kind of the point.
“Sid & Nancy”
A chaotic, distorted sprint that leans into full-throttle angst. It’s loud, messy, and over in a flash, but it leaves an impact.
“Twin Flame”
The closest thing to a heartfelt moment on the album. Stripped back and introspective before erupting into something bigger, it’s a rare glimpse of vulnerability beneath all the noise.