Jimmy Eat World + Smoking Popes
Just as the spotlight had turned away (okay, perhaps years after that happened), Jimmy Eat World delivered its best album in a dozen years this past summer, Damages. The warm and unfussy rock record carries the regret and energy of a newly divorced man. Pleasant, punchy choruses exude the bittersweet nostalgia and creeping, increasingly comfortable melancholy that comes with approaching 40. Its fans are growing older, too. Which means they can afford the three-figure ticket and not give a shit what people think about cry-shouting along to I-miss-her choruses.