FOR some time now there has been a term that has been thrown at young people and bands alike, a label that is shrouded in mystery for anyone over 20 years of age: emo.

But just what does this term mean? Is it a kind of music or a tribe of teenagers? And wasn't Emo that pretend bird that Rod Hull used to goose Michael Parkinson with?

The interesting thing about emo – already a somewhat dated label – is that if you were to go to a concert and ask the youngsters with their jeans halfway down their backsides and their hair stuck to one side of their face exactly what it is, they might not know either. The use of the term is often fluid and unspecific, and the kids that find themselves the target of the term usually hate it (that shouldn't stop anyone calling them it, though).

Like most youth movements or trends, emo is a total mystery to the parents of its exponents, and rightly so – youth culture loses some of its kick when dad is in on the action, and so the emo child positively courts the disapproval of the parent figure.

The term found its origins in the USA in the '80s, when a loosely-related group of bands were given the label "emotional hardcore". Their style of music was picked up by the likes of Husker Du and Fugazi, who in turn, influenced our current crop of emo outfits – most of whom hate the label (Jimmy Eat World, Panic! at the Disco, My Chemical Romance).

Much of the appeal of these bands to the teenage ear lies in the original definition of "emotional hardcore", with the emphasis very much on the word "emotional". Few of us remember our teenage years as an enriching journey towards maturity, and instead appreciate them for the harrowing descent into emotional turmoil they were, so it seems logical that young people will look for music of this type.

Just as I found solace in the dad-upsetting scream and explosive guitars of Nirvana and Soundgarden, the next generation of teenagers have found their own laureates in Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance, or pin-up Pete Wentz of Fallout Boy.

Self-expression and introspection are very much the order of the day with these artists. Dashboard Confessional – aka Chris Carrabba – makes use of diary-like lyrics, and an appreciation of sometimes mawkish sentiment is very much a must for those intending to become emo kids.

The scene often attracts the more sensitive kids at school, reinforcing the athlete/aesthete divide that persists in sixth form blocks across the land.

A ton of bands have had the emo label applied to their music, and for many years the term was particularly irksome to rock journalists who fetishise specific categorisation.