RUN EMO

The playlist starts with Tony Sly's "Liver Let Die" and I'm already negotiating with my body. Three minutes of acoustic-punk confessional that refuses to let me ease into this run gently. This is the defining tension of RUN EMO: it's built for the miles you don't want to run but need to, and the music won't let you forget why you're out here. Heartbreak as fuel. Fast beats as escape velocity. Off With Their Heads follows with "Clear The Air" and the tempo clicks up—distortion guitars meeting Midwest emo's confessional honesty. This isn't party punk. This is the genre crossover nobody asked for but runners desperately need: folk punk's stripped-down vulnerability colliding with skate punk's refusal to stop moving.

Mile two and Spanish Love Songs detonates "Self-Destruction (as a Sensible Career Choice)" directly into my prefrontal cortex. The title alone is the entire thesis of this run. Why are we doing this? Because standing still feels worse. The playlist understands this at a molecular level. No Use For A Name, The Bouncing Souls, The Loved Ones—each track cycles through punk's sprawling family tree without ever losing the plot. Folk punk's raw honesty, pop punk's hooks, hardcore's aggression, ska's upstrokes—they're all here, all serving the same mission: keep your legs moving when your brain files for early retirement. The Menzingers hit at track eight with "Tellin' Lies" and the melodic hardcore kicks in harder. This is the blend working: emo's emotional weight meeting punk's three-chord refusal to quit. My legs are composing formal complaints. The guitars are management's response: denied.

Mile four is where the lies start. My cardiovascular system suggests we've done enough. Pkew Pkew Pkew's "65 Nickels" responds with two minutes of garage punk chaos—all distortion, zero negotiation. This is punk's gift to running: the DIY ethos applied to physical suffering. Your body wants to quit? Build through it anyway. Three chords and the truth. Iron Chic, Captain We're Sinking, another blast from Pkew Pkew Pkew—the back half of this playlist is pharmaceutical-grade momentum. No ballads. No breathers. Just the relentless understanding that running through regret requires grit that sounds like this: buzzsaw guitars, shouted choruses, bass lines that refuse to let your pace slip.

The final stretch and The Menzingers return with "I Don't Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore"—a title that captures punk-emo's self-aware humor perfectly. We're all out here trying to outrun our worst impulses, one footstrike at a time. The playlist ends with The Lawrence Arms' "The Slowest Drink at the Saddest Bar on the Snowiest Day in the Greatest City"—a song title longer than some of these tracks, a Midwest emo gut-punch that reminds you why heartbreak and fast beats work together. Forty-four minutes of punk refusing to let you stop. Forty-four minutes of emo reminding you why you started. You lace up and run your little heart out because the alternative is standing still with your thoughts, and this playlist knows that's not an option.