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Midnight Foolishness Turns Emmure’s “MDMA” Into a Haunting Confession

Brooklyn’s Midnight Foolishness has always been a band driven by instinct, emotion, and a restless sense of experimentation. Known for their genre-bending blend of alt-rock, emo, and post-hardcore energy, the group has long refused to fit inside the boundaries of a single sound. With their newest release—an acoustic reinterpretation of Emmure’s “MDMA”—they’ve found one of their boldest statements yet: a haunting, stripped-down transformation that trades rage for rawness and fury for fragile beauty.

The original “MDMA,” released by the metalcore outfit Emmure, was pure combustion—an unrelenting outburst of pain and defiance. Midnight Foolishness takes that same emotional current and turns it inside out. Their version is intimate and ghostly, an aftershock rather than an explosion. Every chord feels deliberate, every pause weighted with emotion. Frontman Rob Corbino’s voice teeters between resolve and collapse, capturing that uneasy tension between self-destruction and self-awareness.

Where Emmure’s version screamed to be heard, Midnight Foolishness whispers to be understood. The arrangement leans on open air—fingerpicked acoustic guitar, minimal percussion, a hum of background ambience that feels more like a memory than a melody. It’s the sound of confrontation turned introspection, of someone sitting in the wreckage of chaos and learning to breathe again.

“We didn’t want to just cover the song,” Corbino explains. “We wanted to show what happens after the noise stops—when all that emotion is still there, but you’re left with nothing to hide behind.”

That desire to expose the quieter, more uncomfortable truths carries into the music video, a grim, artfully claustrophobic short film that borders on psychological horror. Set in a dim garage, Corbino appears bound and tormented by a shadowy figure, while two onlookers sit motionless—like witnesses to something both deeply personal and disturbingly universal. The violence is slow, ritualistic. Every movement feels deliberate, every cut precise. By the time the power dynamic begins to shift, it’s no longer clear who’s in control—or what the struggle even represents.

The video’s final act transforms the scene into something symbolic, almost mythic. The captor’s dominance disintegrates, and what remains feels like a ritual of rebirth. It’s not easy to watch—but that’s the point. The imagery mirrors the themes of the song: the pain of creation, the exploitation of artists, the thin line between destruction and transformation.

“Art can consume you,” says Corbino. “It can chew you up if you let it. But it can also save you. The video’s about that—about breaking cycles, about reclaiming your own narrative.”

This balance of discomfort and catharsis has always defined Midnight Foolishness. Since forming in Brooklyn, the band has existed on the edge of multiple worlds—punk grit meeting pop polish, nostalgia colliding with reinvention. They’ve collaborated with artists like Jonny Craig (Slaves, Dance Gavin Dance) and Joseph Arrington (A Lot Like Birds, Royal Coda), each partnership expanding their sonic reach without diluting their emotional core. Whether they’re leaning into the rawness of rock or the cinematic sweep of ballads, their music consistently feels lived-in—heart-first, never performative.

“MDMA” fits perfectly into that evolution. It’s not just a reinterpretation, but a redefinition—a moment where the band strips away the gloss and confronts the ghosts that linger beneath their sound. It’s both tribute and transformation, homage and exorcism.

As the song closes, the final notes linger like an unspoken confession—fragile, unresolved, and deeply human. For a band that thrives on risk, it feels like their most fearless act yet: choosing stillness over spectacle, and vulnerability over volume.

In a scene where authenticity is often marketed rather than felt, Midnight Foolishness continues to stand apart. Their “MDMA” doesn’t just reinterpret a metalcore anthem—it reframes it as something achingly honest, a mirror held up to the quiet aftermath of chaos. It’s the sound of a band still searching, still daring, still alive in the tension between pain and peace.


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