Your new band, Twin Forks, isn't completely terrible. I wish it were; maybe that would make this easier. Instead it's just bland -- the Lumineers and Mumford & Sons trend has obviously made an impression on you. Your set is full of spirited clapping and group singalong choruses that feel stale and put-on. But the crowd seems to enjoy it.
There are a few graduated scene girls whose black hair and eye makeup feel out of place amongst the crowd of drunk moms and backwards-hat bros mostly there to see the headliner, Augustana. I'm watching your show Chris, and there's not a word that I comprehend. But wait, were some of those lyrics you sang "candy apple ass on the hood of my car"? I'm pretty sure they were. But I'm always assuming the worst. Is that a mini tambourine on your leather boot?
I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You were always a bro dressed in sensitive boy clothes. Even at age fourteen I was too embarrassed to admit my Dashboard Confessional love. You had a song in Spider-Man 2 for god's sake. You were Bright Eyes for the mainstream aggro dudes and cheerleaders who alienated me. But still, I cherished The Swiss Army Romance. I abandoned it for punk for a while, but an especially potent heartbreak at age 24 brought me back to you. I fell in love again with that album, Chris. With Dashboard and Further Seems Forever. With you. Your diary-entry lyrics and emotive wail shot straight to my heart.