Album Review: Fashionably Late by Falling in Reverse

Out of prison and -- as evidenced by a huge number of posts on social networking sites -- spending his free time in front of a computer, Falling in Reverse frontman Ronnie Radke explained Fashionably Late on Twitter, by typing "When people hear the new stuff though I promise you they will lose their mind. It's light years ahead of my last album." How right he was. Inspired by the first time he heard Dr.

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Is Emo Dead? Who Killed it? You could argue that the “deified” artist, perhaps a being perfected by Wagner and his eccentric, egotistical monuments of self-expression, entered its death throes when Marcel Duchamp signed his Fountain as R. Mutt for submission into the Society for Independent Artists. This scandalous piece, itself a humble urinal without physical alteration, was transformed into an object so far removed from the pre-conceptions of the Western world, itself in the midst of World War I, centuries of imperialist and nationalism buildup at its peak.

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Someday they’ll ask, what happened to rock? You remember rock, that phylum of music, largely guitar-driven, that once loomed large in American popular culture. It’s been ceding ground for decades now — to hip-hop, to dance music, even to country — and yet it hangs on stubbornly, a retrograde province of samey ideas and white privilege. The new albums by 3OH!3 and Falling in Reverse aren’t the ones putting the nail in rock’s coffin.

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