Shut Up! - Simple Plan

Simple Plan – “Shut Up!”
Lava Records; 2004
2.1/10

If teen angst were a currency, Simple Plan would be Canada’s largest export. And “Shut Up!” is perhaps their most shrill, sugar-coated contribution to the pop-punk economy: a three-minute tantrum in skinny jeans, flung onto CD like a Hot Topic receipt someone refused to recycle.

Released in 2004, a golden era when every mall had at least one screaming adolescent with gelled hair and an authority complex, “Shut Up!” captures the essence of adolescent rage with all the nuance of a fire alarm taped to a skateboard. It’s not a song—it’s an eye roll set to power chords.

Frontman Pierre Bouvier delivers each line like he’s been grounded for the weekend and just discovered Linkin Park exists. “Don’t tell me who to be!” he cries, in the tone of someone who just got told to take their shoes off in the house. It’s an anthem for misunderstood kids everywhere—by which we mean, mostly kids who got a B in maths and think that counts as oppression.

Musically, it’s the equivalent of punching drywall after being asked to do the dishes. The guitars chug dutifully, the drums go “boom-boom-tap,” and somewhere in the background, the ghost of Green Day sheds a single tear. There’s an attempt at a bridge that sounds like it was written in the back of a maths book, and it ends—mercifully—with more shouting. It's unclear whether the listener is supposed to feel empowered or just relieved it's over.

Lyrically, it’s as if every line was workshopped in an MSN chat room. “Just shut your mouth / Who do you think you are?” asks Pierre, clearly directing his ire at a very rude parent, teacher, or perhaps the concept of adulthood itself. It’s emotional depth, brought to you by a packet of Sour Skittles and a half-watched episode of Degrassi.

Still, “Shut Up!” did serve a noble purpose: it was the soundtrack to at least a dozen bedroom door slams per suburban household. And in that sense, it’s historically significant—if only to warn future generations of what happens when you give a Fender and a recording budget to five dudes who just really hate being told what to do.

Best Lyric: “There you go / You never ask why” — bold of them to claim introspection in a song called “Shut Up!”
Worst Lyric: “Don’t tell me how to live!” — accidentally sums up the entire album.
File Next To: Broken skateboards, discarded diary entries, and that hoodie you wore every day in Year 10.
RIYL: Thinking the world doesn’t understand you (it probably does, and it’s fine).

— Chaz Voxworthy, November