Claude says:A Fever You Can't Sweat Out arrived in 2005 as theatrical emo-pop maximalism—all baroque pop hooks and Ryan Ross's verbose, darkly funny lyrics—and you've kept it spinning for two decades, cycling through the bratty title tracks and the genuinely clever deep cuts that made this Vegas kid's debut feel like a statement rather than a trend. The Martyrdom opener became your anchor, but you've given equal weight to the album's weirder moments, which says something about what stuck past the initial fever.