Featured Essay: I Just Want to Sell Out My Funeral: How The Wonder Years Changed Pop Punk Forever

by Ryan Curtiss

There are only so many hours in the day, and so little of it is spent listening to music. So, if you’re a music fan like me, when you find a band or album that speaks to you, you want to hold on to that for as long as you can. It acts as a testament to a time or period in your life, yelling at you through speakers as it softly spins on a turntable. A constant reminder that things aren’t as bad as you think, and music can help you explore facets of yourself while reaching out a hand of understanding.

Music makes it all make sense.

That’s what The Wonder Years’ The Greatest Generation did to me when it came out in 2013. The third installment in a trilogy of albums that chronicled lead singer Dan “Soupy” Campbell’s fight with his own demons, this was the swan song to show that people can be better despite their circumstances. People keep fighting even when they don’t have the fight left in them. This was the album that showed the final battle between him and his struggles. A real Gandalf versus the Balrog moment.

Grab your popcorn, ‘cause it just got serious.

To say it had me in a chokehold is putting it lightly. Every track on the album is a flawless execution of what a band can do to a genre if they put their everything into it. It spoke to me in a much deeper way than any other album I had ever heard. There was something different about this record, the way it flowed, the way it was. It was just different. It hit the right chords, but in such an alien way.

Maybe it was maturity, the loss of my teenage years, and finally becoming an adult. Maybe it was how the band worked tirelessly to craft an album that would throw them further into the spotlight. Or maybe it was Maybelline. Whatever it was, it completely turned a genre and my opinion of it on their heads.

Let’s be real, pop punk is not held in the highest regard. It’s usually stereotyped as a bunch of whiny teenagers crying over heartbreak. In most cases, that’s pretty spot on. Blink-182, Good Charlotte, New Found Glory: they’re all fun bands. I still put them on from time to time to jam out to those classic pop punk songs. But, if you don’t think they’re whining over heartbreak, nostalgia has corrupted you.

The Greatest Generation broke the mold, crushing the stereotype under the weight of the chords that were played and the lyrics that were spat out. What The Wonder Years did on that album forever changed the face of pop punk. 

The album and the band forced a genre to become more serious in the coming years. They spawned a legion of other bands to follow suit and get more serious about what they were talking about in the genre and craft something that spoke about something deeper.

Track after track of heartfelt lyrics sprawled across instrumentals that would go from slow-paced, soft ballads to a crashing emo-inspired pop punk rippers created something completely different. They were painting a picture of an entire generation of humans who felt like they did, when they thought they were only painting a self-portrait.

Steadily, the past two albums (The Upsides, and Suburbia, I’ve Given You All, and Now I’m Nothing) had taken a more serious tone from their first album (Get Stoked On It!). The band went from writing songs about the Kool-Aid Man being cheated on and pirates to songs about feeling lost and hopeless in a world that seemed like it didn’t care.

The irony is that although they felt like the world was apathetic to the suffering, they understood it, making a legion of teenagers and young adults feel like others did care. So what if the world didn’t? This little community did. The proof was in the album.

The Greatest Generation showed that this band from Philadelphia was gearing up for a lifetime of making music that the most jaded music enjoyer would relate to. They were mountain movers. They had a vision, and they carried it out. 

I say all of this to give you a backdrop of why I own just about every variant of this album.

From the standard black variant to the official test press only given out to 13 super fans that paid a steep $500 price tag for one of the coolest merch bundles ever conceived, I own it (A stupid purchase? Perhaps. Worth it? Totally.). The bundle included shirts, a jacket, all five variants of the 7 inch single “Dismantling Summer," signed posters, drum sticks from the recording session, and the holy grail of my collection, The Greatest Generation test press.

This test press was unique. One side of the jacked features painted art by guitarist Matt Brasch (each member made art for each jacket) and handwritten lyrics to “We Could Die Like This” on the other side. It is just a flimsy black vinyl with a white center label. But, god damn, it really holds a large space in my heart.

Other limited versions became available, too. 

To celebrate the release of their album, they hosted a pop-up shop in Philadelphia for a week. From noon until night, some band members hung out, talking to fans, and giving away prizes. One of the limited vinyl was there. Standard black, so nothing special there. However, a screen-printed laminate was included, marking it as a “Pop-Up Shop Exclusive”. 

They did an ambitious 24-hour tour where they hit Philadelphia, New York, Chicago, and Anaheim to support their new album. I was lucky enough to grab a copy of both the pop-up shop and Philadelphia vinyl.

Don’t worry, I will get the others soon enough.

I am a firm believer that physical media needs to be saved. In recent years, owning media has become a fleeting idea thanks to streaming services like Spotify and Netflix. As long as I have this on vinyl, I will never have to worry about listening to this album and feeling the pulse that connects us as humans.

Years later they would revisit The Greatest Generation in the form of a box set that has three LPs, sporting the original album and never before heard demos. A book of photos, notes, and essays would come with it to give fans a chance to peer into the lore behind this monumental album.

They are a band from Landsdale, Pennsylvania that went by The Premiere before switching the line-up to include some friends, and began playing in basements, VFW halls, and anywhere that would have them. They became known as The Wonder Years. They made a few albums and they did the impossible. They created art that resonated with people. They had a message and broadcast it to the world or to whoever was listening. They changed an entire genre forever. 

They gave a shit.

Author bio: Ryan Curtiss is a stand-up comedian, owner of Over Caffeinated Records, and writer for New Noise Magazine. He hosts the podcast Get Into It, and lives in New Jersey with his girlfriend, two cats, and two dogs. Visit his website iamryancurtiss.com.