The Academy Is... has broken up.
It's been coming for a while. They took a break, then people left, and nothing felt the way it used to.
"From this point on, The Academy Is... belongs to you. Feel free to listen. Listen as loud as you'd like."
But this was the music that, three summers ago, got me moving. 2008 is the angriest I've ever been, driving for hours every day to a life I'd decided I didn't want, no idea where I wanted to be except for anywhere else.
Written over and over in black ink on journal pages are lyrics and the number 2978, the number of miles to LA.
The Summer of 2008 is forever branded in my mind as The Summer of The Academy Is... They screamed at me through my beat up car's speakers for the entirety of the summer, over hot leather and a broken AC. I pushed my way to the front of a sticky, dusty crowd to see them at Warped Tour, the first time I'd seen them live, skipping classes and lab and responsibilities to do so.
Some bands taught me not to give a fuck, and others taught me to dance, but I felt like TAI was yelling at me, like they knew that I was stagnating and lost. "You've got to find a way before you fold" my speakers shook. "Hold your head high, heavy heart," they continued, "So take a chance and make it big, 'cause it's the last you'll ever get."
I was nineteen and angry, and then I started to do something about it.
The last time I saw them was about a year ago, out in the middle of nowhere Northampton, and I'm glad I didn't know it would be the last. It felt like 2008 again.
This, this is how that summer felt and looked, low res and fast and dark:
With a lot of this thrown on top, just for good measure: