Jimmy Eat World

“We never imagined this album would mean so much to so many people”, Jim Adkins says, looking out at the army of Jimmy Eat World fans that packed out Crystal Palace Bowl last Sunday night. It’s true, at the turn of the millennium the band found themselves dropped by their record label after the commercial failure of 1999’s Clarity. To create the album they’re celebrating tonight, the Arizona natives returned to their day jobs and self-funded their first European tour, circulating demos on Napster where the word-of-mouth attention would find its way back to major labels.

This year, Bleed American turns 25 years old, and for every person who descends upon the idyllic Crystal Palace Bowl to relive their youth, there’s someone else who has no idea what Napster is, or in my case, is younger than the record itself. Regardless, stepping into the park has the same effect on us all — rolling back the years to shine a spotlight on Bleed American and its influences. 

It’s fitting, then, that the afternoon eases in with the dreamy, modern sound of Jay Som. The California-based solo artist provides a brand of lush indie that sounds at home on outdoor festival stages in the sun. Her set does an impressive job balancing the two sides of soft rock and bedroom pop, and the video screens at Palace Bowl manage to capture both those dancing their hearts out and those transfixed, eyes closed and lost in the music. The biggest example of those two sides is ‘Float’, a duet that sees Jimmy Eat World’s Jim Adkins join the band in the highlight of their set. 

The Get Up Kids take the stage as the sun begins to set over the bowl, casting the emo forefathers in momentary rays of golden sunshine as they rip through a series of pop-punk tunes, every chorus rousing fans to throw their arms in the air and sing along. They may be reminiscing on close to 30 years on the road with and around bands like Jimmy Eat World, but their songs and live presence are as sharp as ever.

It’s dusk by the time Rise Against take the stage, and the Chicago punks quickly whip up a pair of mosh pits and a flurry of bodies flying over the barricade. The band are on impeccable live form, emphasising their bridges and intros to songs like ‘Ready to Fall’ in a way that has the crowd eating out of their hands. Amongst the barrage of riffs and clouds of dust, Tim McIlrath takes the time to bring up touring with The Get Up Kids and Jimmy Eat World while in a previous band when they were much younger. When ‘Savior’ wraps up and the dust finally settles from Rise Against’s biggest punk singalong, you’re left wondering when their next trip across the Atlantic will be.  

Much as the story of Bleed American doesn’t necessarily start with the production of the album itself, Jimmy Eat World chose to start their set with a quartet of tracks from Clarity, huddled close to the centre of the stage, illuminated by just a couple of lights. In the years since Clarity’s release, these tracks have been countlessly re-appraised, and what was once considered a commercial failure is sung back at them with joy. ‘Lucky Denver Mint’ is the highlight here, distilling the anxiety the band felt with its chorus “You’re not bigger than this, not better, why can’t you learn?”. As the song draws to a close, the stage begins to open, expanding and rearranging into columns of screens, instrumentals falling silent, save for Zach Lind, whose kit moves back as the beat seamlessly incorporates a singular, unmistakable and driving snare that heralds Bleed American’s opening track. The song sounds all the more urgent introduced in this way, not with words, but rather the riff arriving as the Crystal Palace crowd becomes unglued. While the title track speaks to the isolation and angst Bleed American was born from, the rest of the album is a bulletproof, life-affirming guide to dealing with the uncertainty of youth, something the band have embraced. 

The members of Jimmy Eat World may not dress or look like their 80s rockstar heroes, but it’s their humility which allows their songs to connect with so many people. Jim confesses to enjoying how ‘The Middle’ means something different to everyone, and it’s impossible not to feel heartwarmed by the track, Jim’s delivery on the opening line “Hey, don’t write yourself off yet” wraps around you like a warm hug and guides you toward the euphoria of the iconic chorus. Visually, the album’s art depicts a collection of bronze and silver trophies, reflected in glimpses on stage visuals tonight and a nod to the underdog story it aims to conjure. Every song from Bleed American is given the appropriate energy; ‘A Praise Chorus’, ‘Sweetness’ and ‘Get It Faster’ incite frenzied mosh pits and crowdsurfers, while emotional ballads such as ‘Hear You Me’ and ‘Cautioners’ are the biggest tear-jerkers of the album, leaving Palace Bowl to sway slowly with lighters in the sky. 

As the band return to the stage for the encore, they take the time to briefly explore their career following the widescreen success of Bleed American. Deep cut ‘Disintegration’ is met with shocked joy from the die-hards while ‘Pain’ is enough to incite one last wild pit. The band closed on a beautiful rendition of ‘23’, dedicating it to the fans, endlessly thankful for their support. 

One constant through Jimmy Eat World’s career, more specifically Bleed American, is how unashamed their humanity is, carrying an earnestness that has allowed the album to endure and touch generations. Bleed American pulls emo into the new millennium, sonically laying the blueprint for what bands such as Paramore, Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance would go on to do, while lyrically providing scripture for the nervous and unsure.

Bleed American’s closer, ‘My Sundown’ ends with Adkins repeatedly whispering “No one cares”. With Crystal Palace hanging on his every word, never has that felt less true than tonight.