Taylor Acorn’s ‘Poster Child’ Is the Pop-Punk Therapy Session Every 2000s Kid Needs

Album Review

Taylor Acorn-Photo by Jonathan Weiner

By Angelina Singer, Rock At Night Boston

Review: Taylor Acorn Album Review “Poster Child” – Release date October 24, 2025

Taylor Acorn is one of the newer artists on the pop punk scene to sign to Fearless Records, credited with bringing back all the nostalgic angst that any 2000s emo kid would love. However, she’d previously been an indie artist for about a decade. I had first discovered Taylor Acorn on TikTok a handful of years ago, when a friend posted one of her acoustic emo covers. From there, I journeyed deep into the backlog of her other covers, and even some of her original music. This past summer, I even got to see her perform live as part of the Summer School Tour in Worcester, MA. With over 400 million streams to her name, Taylor Acorn is someone you’re going to want to keep your eye on, if you’ve been looking for an artist that hits as hard as Paramore and Avril Lavigne did back in the day.

With her newest album Poster Child, Taylor’s building on the style she’s fine-tuned, with an added level of energy that you just can’t find on every album. Starting off strong with the first track, “People Pleaser” has probably the most aggressive opening line I’ve heard in a while: “You’re pissing me off / but I never say / you don’t like my hair like my clothes like my face / oh baby I need a change.” Sonically this one sounds like a Kelly Clarkson B-side in the best way possible. Then the pre-chorus is a big diversion into the pop punk scene. Fuzzed-out lead guitars bounce off the clarity of her vocals, creating a sense of sonic balance amidst the thematic tension of the message. Such a strong start to the album, setting the bar sky-high.

Next up on the album are “Crashing Out” and “Hangman” — the first of which is straight out of the early-era Paramore playbook, with post-hardcore heavy rhythm guitars and poetic lyrics showing what it’s like to be stuck in an unhealthy relationship. “Can’t slow down / it only makes me want you more” is only a taste of the thought-provoking lyrics. I also love the rhythmic changes in this one that reflect all the different emotions and textures throughout.

In contrast, “Hangman” starts out a lot more chilled out, with light guitar articulations and smooth vocals — until it rapidly expands and pulls back. I’m a big fan of the push-and-pull of music, which also beautifully plays on the uncertainty of the topic: “I’m holding on by a thread / are you playing hangman / did you run out of letters / am I stuck here forever?” This might be the angriest song yet, but it’s also the saddest, and it’s perfectly primed to take over a stadium.

The fourth track is the title track, “Poster Child” — and this one is all about blaming yourself for a failed relationship. It’s heartbreaking, full-throttle pop punk but so melodic and well-produced. I absolutely love how strong her rhyme scheme is in this one: “I’ll be the first to admit it you’re as good as it gets / so I don’t know why I push every good one away / call me a runaway train / until you stepped on the tracks / now I’m slammin’ the brakes”. I swear every song I listen to on this album is somehow my favorite — and that doesn’t happen often.

“Home Videos” is a nostalgic punch to the gut, and Taylor’s taking no mercy. It’s an honest look at her childhood, with visceral images like climbing trees and all the memories that came with her younger years. “I’d watch those old home videos / swear I’d jump right in the frame / there’s not one thing I would change / if I could go back for a day.” I’m not quite sure how she managed to capture everyone’s childhood in a song that would fit perfectly next to a campfire, but she really did.

Next up is “Cheap Dopamine” and “Blood on Your Hands” — which both mark about the halfway point of this incredible album. The first of these two is a lot more relaxed and reflective, with a melodic approach to the truths laid in the lyrics written all about using someone for your own selfish gains. The second song starts with an interesting sci-fi feel with a recorded voice, probably sampled from some movie I couldn’t place. It’s all about comparing a breakup with solving a murder mystery — which is such a great metaphor as it’s often hard to pinpoint whose fault it really was: “You broke in uninvited / shoved a knife through my heart.” I would love to know more about her writing process, because there’s so much going on in this album lyrically. Bonus points for the unexpected ad-lib right before the last chorus that made me chuckle.

“Goodbye, Good Riddance” is a song of hers that I’ve already had the chance to hear live, which was fantastic. The tempo on this one is pretty fast, making it perfect for an angsty treadmill or kickboxing session. The message is self-explanatory, and I loved the effects on the vocals to make her voice sound almost ghastly, like there’s more than one Taylor singing as she proclaims that her former lover is good as dead to her now.

As we get to the tail end of the album far too soon, there’s the melodic Avril-Lavigne-esque “Sucker Punch”, which opens up to a much bigger chorus like a lot of her other songs. This song looks at the paranoid side of healing from a breakup, where you’re scared it might happen again. “The clarity I needed straight to the gut might’ve knocked me right off of my feet” is at the center of the message, reflecting on what might’ve hurt at the time but made you stronger in the end. It’s a certain level of brokenness that brings gratitude for the lessons learned — which is something that anyone can relate to, no matter their relationship status.

“Vertigo” is much more in the pop realm, with some staccato electric beats and percussion. It depicts the feeling of being dizzy, with her vocals cutting through the noise to remind the listener to cling to inner truth instead of the craziness on the outside. “Ears ringing on the daily / are you thinking of me all the time?” plays into the romantic side, even if it’s borderline obsessive. Part of what I love about Taylor Acorn, is that she doesn’t shy away from showing things exactly like they are — there’s no glittery façade here. In the bridge especially, the vocals are layered to show that feeling of confusion.

As we get to the very end of this musical journey, listeners are left with “Theme Park” and “Masquerade”. The first one goes back to the nostalgic moments of “Home Videos” with a slightly older storytelling voice after the sampled-in sounds of a theme park. In this song, she’s taking listeners back to her sixteen-year-old self as she remembers a relationship that thrilled her as much as a rollercoaster back in the day. Sonically, it fits so fluently withing her backlog dynamically, but I love the positivity of this one that makes it stand out from the angrier tracks.

And finally, “Masquerade” is a more self-reflective track. “I’m just another imposter / parading around / playing charades / fade in and out” is at the center of this song written in a waltz beat, as Taylor realizes that she’s tired of being something she’s not. I find this super ironic because I think this entire album is incredibly honest, but that’s likely not the full story. I really love the buildup of this one, which is easily the biggest song on the album. It’s giving runaway princess vibes, and I really like the metaphors she uses to paint this picture. A light string section punctuates the whole production, which grows to an unimaginable level, before everything suddenly drops out at the end of the song, leaving just her vocals and a light guitar as the album comes to a close.

I can’t say enough good things about this entire album. From start to finish, it has so much raw honesty, smart production value, and a lot of heart. If you haven’t met Taylor Acorn through her music yet, Poster Child is a fantastic introduction to her body of work and artistry. And of course, if you ever get the chance to see her play these songs live, go for it.

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Angelina Singer