by Karina Tapia
I’ve always found comfort in the music I know. From K-pop and soft jazz, these genres feel like home. My friends, however, have introduced me to their own obscure music tastes and I’ve grown to love discovering new sounds though them. Despite being open to new music, I’d never ventured into emo or alternative rock. Not because I was afraid of it or the culture around it, but because I already felt safe and seen in the gentle rhythm of the music I knew. Emo, with its feral rage and raw vulnerability, seemed so far from my emotional language.
I didn’t want to stay in my comfort zone forever, though. I decided to explore new genres beginning with k-rock. That’s when I realized the sound itself, beyond language, can express feelings in a way words never could. A subgenre of emo called screamo struck a chord. There was something so cathartic about it. It gave space to vulnerability and emotional release that I didn’t know I was craving. So when I had the chance to see The Used live, a band that boldly called themselves “the best band in the world,” I took it. It was a truly unforgettable experience for all fans.
They packed the main floor not only to be close to the band, but to also feel the presence of others who also shared the same love of music, dancing and shouting lyrics that clearly mean the world to them. I’ve always loved a catchy sound and emo music delivers that with an emotional intensity I haven’t experienced before. I watched people cry, scream, and smile to songs that hold deep meaning. The songs aren’t just music, but poetry and pleas for change, healing, and connection.
I previously thought emo music was just hardcore noise with dark rebellious messages. But now I understand these are songs filled with depth, touching on pain, love, death, and human rights. One album can take you from a scream-filled anthem to a soft nostalgic ballad about a past lover. The versatility and emotional range are surprising and beautiful. The androgyny of the genre makes it even more inspiring. It truly feels like it’s for everyone. It reminded me to be more open to try new music, and I realized this experience let me see the suppressed emotions I had in my heart.
Every song holds a frequency, and emo music holds one that encourages emotional honesty. It’s not depressing; it gives permission to feel everything. Sure, sad pop songs exist, but nothing satisfies an angry desperate emotion like screamo. It lets you be loud, raw, and real. Being in that crowd, surrounded by people of all ages, all singing and screaming together was a powerful reminder that music helps us process emotions society often tells us to hide. Everyone there had a story. Whether it’s about heartbreak, mental health, or the fight for human rights, emo music gives people a space to feel and be heard.
