Most people don’t give much thought to the title of a song. After all, it’s the music that matters, right? Some folks couldn’t tell you the name of their favorite song if a million bucks were riding on it. And things aren’t going to get easier, thanks to the latest crop of  It bands like Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco, who are taking the naming of songs to astonishing — if not slightly obnoxious — new levels.

What if the Who’s classic anthem “My Generation” were named something else? Something entirely too clever and even vaguely nauseating, like “Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, but Your Discontent with My Friends and Me Is Radically Unimportant to Us”? Would it still resonate with audiences? Or if the Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction” were retitled “I’m Having Rather Troublesome Difficulty Feeling Happy Lately, but You Could Change That if You Play Your Cards Right, Sweetheart”? Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue with the same sort of cross-generational irresistibility, does it?

Fall Out Boy’s 2005 breakout album From Under the Cork Tree kicks off with an opening track that hands the record label suits a blistering dose of clever retribution titled, “Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued.” Take that, Boston Legal!

On Panic! at the Disco’s fiercely catchy debut, A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out, there are gems like “The Only Difference between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage” or “There’s a Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered, Honey, You Just Haven’t Thought of It Yet.” Of course, none of these lines actually appears in any of the songs. That would be too easy.

All this has left us wondering: Whatever happened to the good old-fashioned song title? After all, these bands are well on their way to becoming the voices of the iPod generation — and wreaking havoc on word counts at magazines and newspapers along the way. “A lot of bands don’t really think about the song titles,” says Ryan Ross, guitarist and lead songwriter for Panic! at the Disco, who took home an MTV Music Award in 2006 for Video of the Year. “It’s just a one-word thing or something from the chorus. We thought, Why not be creative with the song titles as well as the music?”

But while one might imagine that these bands spend immeasurable amounts of time sitting around the studio thumbing through thesauri and books like Metaphors for Dummies, Ross reports quite the opposite. None of the titles on the band’s debut album were even finalized until a week before the CD was pressed, and most of them didn’t take nearly as long to think up as they take up space on the CD sleeve. “We don’t all sit around a table and say, ‘Let’s go over song titles now,’” he says. “We just think it’s kind of cheesy to go straightforward with it. We didn’t set out to make long ones. We just wanted good ones.”

In the case of “There’s a Good Reason,” it was originally a line from the song. When the band couldn’t find a slot for it in the song itself that made sense or worked phonetically, it was simply extracted and made the title. “We put it as the title to keep it part of the song,” says Ross. “It’s a thing for us. We feel like we’re being lazy if we just name a song the obvious title.”

So, if you thought you had trouble remembering song titles in the past, buckle up. It’s going to be a long ride. Gone are the days when bands actually made it a point for you to recall the fruits of their creative labors; songs like “One” by U2, because the band actually repeats it over and over, or Aretha Franklin’s “Respect,” where she even has the common courtesy to spell it for us. These days, it seems bands are more concerned about a song-title Pulitzer.

“It depends on what the Pulitzer is judged on,” laughs Ross. “I think we have the longer ones, but the most clever would have to go to Fall Out Boy.”