Paramore Is a Band

Paramore / Photo by Viki Forshee

Although the quartet have spent enough time on tour in the past three years for their Bible Belt upbringing to lapse, those values remain evident. Swearing is uncommon, hugs are plentiful; if there's an addiction afoot, it's to Sonic milk shakes. But wholesome as Paramore's four devoutly Christian members might be, they understood early on that they still weren't wholesome enough to stick to the Christian-rock market so omnipresent in their hometown. (Although they did do early gigs at Christian-rock fests like Cornerstone and Purple Door.)

"When you do Christian music, you get put on this pedestal," Josh says. "And if you do anything wrong -- like dye your hair the wrong color -- it's a sin."

Williams, whose firecracker follicles have presumably sealed her own damnation, interjects, "What would we have done when we wrote 'Misery Business'?" A song about stealing back a stolen boyfriend that uses the word whore certainly wouldn't slip unnoticed onto Christian radio. (Rumors have persisted that the boyfriend in question is guitarist Farro, yet he and Williams publicly insist they've never dated.) "Writing that definitely helped me and the guys through a really difficult issue, and something that you could say kind of controlled my spirit."

The band they are right now, Fueled by Ramen president John Janick figures, could be about to change profoundly. Janick's tended over Paramore since their baby-faced beginnings, along with other FBR bands such as Fall Out Boy and Panic at the Disco as they followed similar (if sharper) arcs. He's not expecting Paramore to stay less famous than his flagship bands much longer, and their status as early adopters of the so-called all-encompassing "360 deal" may provide the longevity that has eluded many of their emo peers. "When I gave them their gold record, it was really an emotional thing," Janick says, "because I feel almost like they're family, and seeing them get that -- I felt like it was gonna start the chain reaction. They're set up well to take what's going to be coming at them, and I believe they're gonna be around a long time."

Back home in Franklin, Paramore get hints -- like the Hot Topic clerk who blasts Riot! as bassist Jeremy Davis, the band's grizzled elder at 22, shops. "Everybody says it's gonna get worse," Zac says, shrugging. "But it's not as bad as everybody says -- 'Oh, y'all probably get mauled at the mall, don'tcha?' "

That kind of stuff does happen in the U.K., though, and it largely happens to Williams. The three guys can walk down London streets unbothered, Josh says, smirking at Williams. "For her, it's like, 'Hayley Williams, come here!' " he mock squeals.