A battered Penguin classic, Danni Minogue with a Biro moustache.

Dog-eared, coffee-stained, pen-scrawled; books and magazines cannot help but retain fragments of every reader they pass through. The 18.25 train home from Dublin was its Mecca: chucked chick-lits and finger-flicked Frampton biographies all drenched in reminders of the human hands that held them. From notes to self and plumber's numbers, these temporary moments turned into steadfast mementos add another dimension to literature.

If the half-decade between Fall Out Boy's last album and this don't-call-it-a-comeback record seems longer to their fans, it’s probably because they've  done a lot of growing up in that time. The fifteen-year-olds who littered shopping centres and painted their Bebo pages with choice quotes (as Joanne wonderfully reminisced about last issue) are now grimacing 20-year-olds eager to sweep away the evidence of their angsty selfies into their Recycle Bins. Luckily, Save Rock and Roll features Fall Out Boy 2.0; produced by Butch Walker, this is a blend of their previous Morrissey-lite lyrics and Pinkerton-esque pop-rock clashing with the contemporary.

Musically, the album picks up from where their best LP, the forward-thinking Folie á Deux, picks off, but lyrically their heart-on-sleeve lyrics are clogged with nostalgia. ‘Young Volcanoes’, bound to be the breakout single of the bunch, unashamedly craves Fun.’s success, with possibly a dash of ‘Hey Soul Sister’. A handclap driven campfire sing-a-long begging to be “the song” of the summer for youngsters teetering at the edge of their teenage years soon “doomed to organise walk-in closets like tombs”, to quote from the similarly themed ‘Where Did The Party Go’. Wentz is no stranger to discussing mortality in his lyrics, but whereas before they were throwaway macabre references, here he seems truly in fear of the spectre of aging.

Elsewhere, ‘Just One Yesterday’ featuring the painfully hip British singer Foxes is the delectable album highlight. Stump’s voice swells like it never had the freedom to between oppressive walls of guitars; spiralling between climbing synths and unforgiving 808 wallops. Sadly, the middle section has a soggier bottom than anything Mary Berry has ever scoffed at. ‘The Mighty Fall’ features G.O.O.D. Music’s Big Sean at his laziest, his verse sounds even more phoned in than the Jay-Z verse that opened Infinity on High, which was literally done down the phone (fun fact, fact fans!) However, the bizarre bottle-rocket of ‘Rat A Tat’ featuring spoken word verses by Courtney Love is Fall Out Boy’s own version of The Cribs’ ‘Be Safe’ (which starred another 90’s grunge demi-god, Lee Ranaldo), while the fist-pumping title track boasting Elton John’s bellowing lungs more than makes up for these discrepancies.

Save Rock and Roll is a characteristically tongue-in-cheek title for an album that finds a band the furthest away from their rock roots; ‘Miss Missing You’ is as rock ‘n’ roll as Bill Oddie on the banjo. Yet, the earnest essence of rock and roll permeates through it: a desire to write songs that mean something people, hooks designed to snare snapshots, songs begging to be burnt onto mixtapes and into memories. These are tracks to be tied around tales, tunes yearning to be ‘our song’, lyrics needing delicately drawn names in hollow hearts soon to be hastily scribbled out between their lines.

It’s hardly album-of-the-year material, but it’s a rare success; a reunion album by a band that has matured with their fanbase and managed to accomplish something worth coming back for. A make-up wipe for their mascara-stained back catalogue, Save Rock and Roll is a diverse and rambunctious collection of blank songs waiting to be scribbled on with stories and passed to the next listener, transformed from an album into a soundtrack.