The All-American Rejects
– Move Along
Pop-punk always flirted with melodrama, but Move Along plunges in headfirst – waving arms, eyeliner smudged, every chorus dialed up like it’s the last one you’ll ever hear. This is an album that doesn’t whisper its feelings. It doesn’t even talk. It yells them through a bullhorn, then tosses the bullhorn off a cliff and follows it with a flying guitar riff. And somehow, the chaos sticks the landing.
Best of…
Tyson Ritter plays the wounded romantic with just enough venom to keep things interesting. His voice cracks in all the right places—like he’s trying to hold it together and you’re hearing him lose the fight. The band’s real secret weapon, though, is their knack for writing hooks that punch through walls. Forget subtlety—these songs grab you by the collar and insist you sing along before you know the words.
It’s not all high-octane heartbreak. There are moments where they pull back, let the guitars breathe, and lean into vulnerability. But even the softer songs carry the same urgency, like everything’s on the edge of exploding. And honestly, that’s the charm. Move Along knows exactly what it is: bold, brash, bleeding-heart rock for the kids too dramatic for silence.
Choice Tracks
Dirty Little Secret
The opening salvo. That staccato guitar intro is pure caffeine, and Ritter’s delivery rides the line between confessional and defiant. It’s teenage rebellion with eyeliner and a catchy chorus.
Move Along
The anthem. It’s a pep talk wrapped in stadium-sized drums and soaring melody. Ideal for the worst day of your life—or just pretending you’re in a movie montage while walking to school.
It Ends Tonight
A slow burner with a breakup heart. The strings swell, the vocals ache, and you suddenly remember every midnight text you never should have sent. The most dramatic prom song never played at prom.
Stab My Back
Cuts deeper than it lets on. Stripped-down and simmering with betrayal, it shows the band’s quieter side without losing the emotional intensity. Like an open wound that still hums.
Night Drive
Brooding and underrated. This one slips in under the radar, a dark detour from the shiny angst. The rhythm feels like headlights flickering past telephone poles. Perfect for late-night brooding.
Move Along doesn’t ask for your attention – it demands it, hair flipped, heart bleeding, middle finger raised. It’s an album for anyone who ever felt too much and turned it into melody. Honest in its over-the-top-ness, and that’s what makes it hit.