17 years ago in Chicago, American Football's released an album that would, for better or worse, dramatically change the face of emo. Instead of the shouting/screaming vocals they opted to gently sing theirs. There were no blast beats, no sudden crashes of chaotic feedback but instead gently arpeggiated guitar parts and a light dusting of trumpet. While their contemporaries - such as I Hate Myself - were sad, poetic kids who scared everybody, American Football were the kind of kids who had just enough charm to not seem douchey when whipping out their acoustic guitar at a party. Their music was gentle and had lyrics deeper than even Chicago's deepest dish, and all of this culminated into one particular stellar debut record. However, that was 17 years ago, and while American Football may have returned on a live stage to a large amount of fanfare by the critics who made them legends and fans who adore them, it is questionable how well they have stood the test of time.