Remember mixtapes? Crimson Arts does. Welcome to our biweekly feature, where we create mixtapes for every emotion and every season—for breakups, breakdowns, and breakdancing. This week our mixtape is dedicated to pop-punk and teen angst. Listen along.

“Chicago Is So Two Years Ago,” Fall Out Boy

Any discussion of pop punk or millennial emotion that doesn’t center on Fall Out Boy is 100% pointless. “Take This To Your Grave” remains the purest expression of pop punk available, before irony and showmanship began to outshine the earnest woes of restless young adults. Patrick Stump’s nostalgic crooning for Chicago on this track made me homesick before I had even left.

“You’re So Last Summer,” Taking Back Sunday

Being a teen is about wholly investing oneself emotionally in ideas and people with little to no concern for rationality or prudence. No band better conveyed this reckless regard for melodrama than Taking Back Sunday, with lines like “The truth is you could slit my throat / And with my one last gasping breath / I’d apologize for bleeding on your shirt.”

“I’m Not Okay (I Promise),” My Chemical Romance

Speaking of melodrama, My Chemical Romance took everyday angst and elevated it to a theatrical level. With every note of the screeching guitar solo and every chant of “I’m not okay,” Gerard Way reveals the depth of his conviction in that operatic disavowal of the idea that he was, in any way, okay.

“Adam’s Song,” Blink-182

From the grand pyrotechnics of My Chemical Romance, we come to the humble melodies of Blink-182. “Adam’s Song” is a sober look back upon the brighter days of 16 and the steps that lead up to a life defined by depression. While the subject matter is dark, Mark Hoppus tells such an alluring tale of youthful optimism that it is difficult not to hear a bit of hope in the song.

“Anaconda Sniper,” Title Fight

Title Fight, like the best pop punk bands, define themselves not by complex instrumentals or virtuosic vocals, but rather through their ability to distill the maelstrom of the teenaged psyche into three-minute bursts of energy. The biting power chords of “Anaconda Sniper” punctuate simple cries of ill temper that could be transcripts of conversations between any two high schoolers.

“You’re Not Salinger. Get Over It,” The Wonder Years

The Wonder Years are a much smarter pop punk band than most might give them credit for. With their imaginative song structures and use of multiple vocal melodies, they use the familiar brush of suburban frustration to create tracks that are at once genuine and ingenious. When they rally for the climactic gang vocal at the end of the song, there is an undeniable crackle of energy as they shout, “Chin up, and we’ll drown a little slower.”

“Ocean Avenue,” Yellowcard

I remember Yellowcard for two things: “Ocean Avenue” and convincing me that violins could be cool. The chugging, syncopated rhythm of the guitar and the charmingly nasal narrative paint a picture of a young love against the world that struck a chord in my predictably lovelorn teenage heart. It never got realer for my 15-year-old self than the lyric “We’re looking up at the same night sky / We keep pretending the sun will not rise.”

“Swing Swing,” All-American Rejects

Everything important about this song is summed up in the line, “Do you know what it feels like, being alone?”

“Best of Me,” The Starting Line

Pop punk bands are not very diverse in their tales of romance—they either believe unflinchingly in the promise of love, or they believe unflinchingly that they were the victim of a heartless transgression executed by some icy she-devil. “Best of Me” is a dazzling example of the former, championing the type of positivism that all but requires naiveté to thrive.

“Cute Without The “E” (Cut From The Team),” Taking Back Sunday

Taking Back Sunday specialize in songs of unsympathetic portrayals of the perpetrators of heartbreak, heaping blame on others while heaping pity on themselves—and they did it better than anyone. As Adam Lazarra wails, “Why can’t I feel anything from anyone other than you?” John Nolan murmurs in the background, “I won’t ever ask if you don’t ever tell me, I know you well enough to know you never loved me,” creating a sonic experience that is irresistibly self-indulgent in its sadness.

“Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy,” Fall Out Boy

I could write pages on what this song means to me. Its message is a simple, timeless plea to an unimpressed object of affection, “You need him, I could be him. I could be an accident, but I’m still trying, and that’s more than I can say for him.” The piercingly sincere lyrics coupled with Stump’s acrobatic vocals make for an anthem of unrequited teenage love. To this day, I’m still wondering where your boy is tonight.

Staff writer Alexander Tang can be reached at alexander.tang@thecrimson.com