Emo is a lot like pornography – it’s hard to define but you know it when you see it. There’s also a lot of fake moaning and screaming involved. Also the term “ten-inch vinyl” comes into play. And when it’s over you feel empty and sad on the inside. What were we talking about again? Right, emo. That word sure has gone through the wringer. You’ve most likely been berated at some point by some scene elder for listening to My Chemical Romance because it’s not “real emo.”
Well, we’re not here today to be judgy and get into what is or is not real emo. But we are going to rank the top emo songs of the ‘90s and why this era is way better than My Chemical Romance which isn’t real emo. Shit, I guess we are the scene elders now.
Anyway, we devised a very scientific list of criteria that we can’t get into but let’s just say if it has an old-timey photo with typewriter font it probably made the list. So now that I broke out this sweater vest from storage which weirdly seems tighter in the mid-section than I remember and also put on thick-framed glasses that have actual prescription lenses in them now for my astigmatism, let’s get into it.
50. Mohinder “To Satisfy”
I used to work with a guy named Mohinder who would look at his watch when I got to work and just say “Late.” That guy was an asshole so I’m hoping this band wasn’t named after him.
49. The Jazz June “Rich Kid Shakedown”
What was it about jazz that was so fascinating to emo kids? Was it the cool vintage aesthetics of the album covers or the fact that jazz musicians could actually play their instruments? Anyway, this song is super catchy and is in no way jazz.
48. Penfold “I’ll Take You Everywhere”
These guys were definitely let’s just say “inspired” by Mineral. Kinda like how GoBots were “inspired” by Transformers (We’re talking about songs from the ‘90s and referencing toys from the ‘80s because we’re old as fuck.) We’ll give Penfold a pass on the imitation because this song is good.
47. Portraits of Past “Bang Yer Head”
Whoever first came up with the term “screamo” must’ve felt pretty good about themselves for how clever they are. I guess Portraits of Past would be considered screamo but this song breaks it up a bit it with some mid-tempo melodies.
46. Bleed “Deadlikeus”
What’s better than having an off-key screaming frontman doing temper-tantrum vocals? Having TWO off-key screaming frontmen doing temper-tantrum vocals! Extra points awarded because this split 7” with Chain To Thread came in the emo staple — the manilla envelope cover.
45. The Appleseed Cast “Marigold & Patchwork”
Cover art shouldn’t really be a deciding factor when ranking songs but I’ll be honest I really hate the cover for this album. That art class drawing of a sad boy just staring at you feels a little low effort and just too on the nose for an emo record. That said, if you close your eyes and don’t look at it this song is pretty good.
44. Ribbon Fix “Some Saturday”
Soft female vocals paired with the male screamer were a well-worn trope that sometimes worked and sometimes did not. Ribbon Fix however flips it a bit and Andi Camp’s vocals get more aggressive and aren’t just the pretty counterpart to some guy screaming.
43. Brandston “Blindspot”
This sounds like the soundtrack to sitting inside all day on a Saturday with nowhere to go and no one to see. Which honestly now as a withering old adult sounds fantastic but when you’re young and actually have the desire to interact with other human beings it’s the worst. Or at least I would assume so since I can’t even remember that far back.
42. Moss Icon “I’m Back Sleeping, Or Fucking, Or Something”
Uh-oh, I can already hear the “Um, actually…” crowd furiously typing away to let us all know that this song was technically first released in 1987 and not actually in the ‘90s. I bet most people first heard it on “Lyburnum Wits End Liberation Fly” in 1993 though. Also, I don’t really give a shit. This song deserves to be on this list either way.
41. Joan of Arc “The Hands”
The first of many appearances by the Kinsella brothers on this list. After Cap’n Jazz ended brother Tim started up Joan of Arc and dialed down the goofiness of the Cap’n a bit but kept things pretty lighthearted. If I had to nitpick I would say I don’t love whatever that “boing” sound is that permeates this song.
40. Ashes “Sometimes”
Oh, here we go again. More pretty female vocals with a dude screaming. These dreamboats swooped into the mid-’90s hardcore scene and stole everyone’s hearts with their big pants and X’s on their hands.
39. Walleye “Episode”
This song starts off with the line “Drank myself into a stupor last night trying to escape my demons” and I know exactly what they mean. I myself had half a glass of Pinot Grigio last night because my Amazon shipment for my weighted blanket is late.
38. Godspeed “April”
No, this is not Godspeed You! Black Emperor. After Turning Point broke up a few members started a spin-off project and went all in on the emo that TP had been dabbling with on their last release. RIP Skip Candelori.
37. Falling Forward “Character”
This is the band Chris Higdon was in before forming Elliott and this definitely sounds like a rough sketch of what Elliott would sound like. This is a song hardcore dudes would play for their non-hardcore girlfriends as like a gateway song to try to get them into hardcore.
36. Rainer Maria “Tinfoil”
The vocals here work way better when they are harmonizing but falter a bit on their own. I do really appreciate the use of the word “goddamit” in the chorus though. I can’t think of another song that has it in the lyrics. Sure, it would’ve been easier to drop a few f-bombs in there but “goddammit” has a nice vintage charm to it.
35. Still Life “Sometimes”
The second song on the list with the name “Sometimes.” A lot of Sill Life’s songs seemed to meander a bit and lose the plot but this stays on course with driving guitar hooks and punchy singalong parts.
34. Rye Coalition “Algebra of Need”
Rye Coalition probably falls a little outside the realm of emo on most of their material but this song feels pretty damn emo. They also scooped Refused by stealing this vintage jazz cover design 4 years before The Shape of Punk To Come came out.
33. Samuel “Lives of Insects”
Samuel was like Velocity Girl but for cool people. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were approached by major labels about signing since every label in the mid-’90s wanted their own version of Letters To Cleo.
32. Hoover “Electrolux”
Oh yeah, now we’re talking. A heavily distorted bassline that chugs along in an odd time signature? When you say it out loud doesn’t sound like it’s going to be emo but it surely is. I hate to be the cranky old man but they just don’t make ‘em like this anymore.
31. Anasarca “Eugene Debs”
Listening to this you can almost visualize a room full of dudes with Spock haircuts in tight ironic thrift store t-shirts rolling around on the floor screaming. Unlike a lot of the other screamo bands at the time who would just serve up a screeching wall of noise, these guys have some groove to their songwriting with some interesting dynamics and even a few guitar leads.
Honestly, it’s tough picking the worst Cramps album. They’re so consistently the SAME that it’s a real chore to consider what’s the bottom of the barrel (or in their case, dynamite powderkeg) “Look Mom No Head” fills the role though, in just being the most “more of the same” offering they ever served up. But, there are positives: An Iggy Pop appearance on “Miniskirt Blues” is fun, where he trades snotty vocals with Interior like two kids on the playground. Poison Ivy really cooks on tracks like “Eyeballs in my Martini.” Lux livens up his standard yowy-growly vocals by sometimes sounding like a wayward Cookie Monster who requires his cookies with a side of hooch. But, overall this one’s as “computer, load up a Cramps album” as they come.
Hey, a middling Cramps album is still a Cramps album, damn it! “Fiends of Dope Island” is what ended up being the final Cramps record before the passing of Lux Interior, and it’s a credit to the group that they can still sound the same as ever after all those years. Convincingly aping juvenile delinquents while theoretically being able to use a senior citizen discount has gotta be difficult, but Lux and Ivy make it look easy. If you can ignore the lame ChatGPT-vibes cover art, this is a more-than-respectable final transmission from one of rock’s most enduring oddballs…but c’mon, we’re not going to put it above second-to-last place!
Recorded after a far-too-long label dispute, “A Date with Elvis” shows the Cramps’ interests turning from the trash-horror subject matter of their infancy, to the trash-sexploitation stuff that would guide them through the rest of their careers, as if they started hanging out with a different crowd in the summer break between elementary and middle school. Highlights this go-round are that we finally get to hear Poison Ivy sing a little bit (delightfully off-key) on “Kizmiaz” and “Get Off the Road,” and it’s interesting to see a real concerted emphasis on jacked-up country/western with songs like “Cornfed Dames.” But, unlike a real date with Elvis Presley, this unfortunately won’t leave you feeling quite as satisfied as a belly full of Monte Cristos.
Another batch of tunes that would make John Waters weep with trashy joy, “Big Beat From Badsville” proves yet again that the Cramps didn’t mess with their successful formula. With a tracklist that includes more animal songs than a Raffi concert (come to think of it, what a shame we never got a Cramps rendition of “Baby Beluga”) Badsville historically remains the only Cramps LP to consist of entirely original material. And for a band that clings to their covers more than a kid who thinks there’s a monster under the bed, we take our hats off to them!
An apt title to say the least, this one’s sick indeed! The last album with their incredibly stoic drummer Nick Knox, the Cramps burst down the door of the ‘90s full force with “Stay Sick!” The band is in absurdly fine form, with “God Damn Rock ‘n Roll” sounding like they’re snidely turning that one Bob Seger track upside down and dangling it over a highway overpass. Ivy’s production is appropriately ‘50s drenched, and she makes Interior sound exactly like he’s using exclusively those rectangular “crooner” style microphones the entire time. Good luck swallowing one of those, Lux!
Coming to the Cramps for nuance is like going to a pet store for airline tickets, and while their second album is light on variety (let’s face it, most Cramps albums are and we love them for it), it more than makes up in pure slimy style. Every track oozes effortlessly into the next one, proving you don’t need to play at a breakneck pace to break necks (you can break them from nodding “hell yeah” too much in this case.) Plus, it even doles out sage advice in the process…I mean, you really shouldn’t eat stuff off the sidewalk…Thanks, Lux ‘n Ivy!
It’s certainly apt that Flamejob is packed with its fair share of automotive songs, because it absolutely makes you want to crank up while hauling ass down the open highway. Incorporating some hauntingly faithful covers like “Strange Love,” and their take on “Route 66” that sounds uncannily like something you’d hear while being shuffled out of a dive bar at last call, with pint glasses sneakily tucked into your pockets. There’s just something about “Flamejob” that edges it over ‘Psychedelic Jungle,” and if you don’t agree, who cares – we’re already 30 miles down the road in a cloud of dust.
The Cramps burst (or, rather, slithered) onto the scene with this incredible collection of electrified sleaze that cemented them as punk mainstays. Inventing psychobilly seemingly without batting an eye, they throw the ultimate party with a guest list teeming with werewolves, zombies, sanitation trucks…the gang’s all here! Somehow they managed to dumb down a Sonics song even further, which is a salutable feat in anyone’s book. “Songs the Lord Taught Us” may have been named ironically, but if you ask us, there’s no question that this record is sent from heaven.
When Into Another first arrived on the scene in 1991 with their self-titled album on Revelation most everyone took one look at their long hair and their shiny shirts and gave it a hearty “Nah, I’m good.” It wasn’t really until “Ignaurus” came out and their sound came together that people really started to take notice. If you can hear that opening chord ringing out in “Drowning” with the running bass and drum lines and you don’t want to do that hand-waiving, side-stutter mosh thing that all the kids were doing back then there is something wrong with you.
This supergroup of sorts formed from the fallout of several NYHC bands and released this 7” that seemingly invented a new genre. The slower, drop-D grooves must have ruffled some feathers when it first came out but goddamn does it still hold up to this day. And yes, you could probably draw a straight line from this to something like Breaking Benjamin or any of those early 2000’s Matrix-core bands but you can’t really blame Quicksand for letting that post-hardcore genie out of the bottle.
At the height of posi “society is fucked because of drugs but let’s plaster on a fake smile and pretend we’re all friends” hardcore, these dudes came along to drop some hard truths. This was the soundtrack for a generation of straight edge kids who fantasized about smashing in the face of those partying popular kids in their high school and is really a precursor to the militant X DRUG FREE X chugga bands that would dominate the ‘90s.
Before Vic Dicara became the angriest Krishna alive and formed 108 and also before Zach de la Rocha started up some rap metal band, there was Inside Out. On their only official release, Dicara’s raw wailing guitar sound mixed with Zach’s pure fucking fury scratched a lot of itches. Out there on the world wide web you can find a live set of theirs with an unreleased song called “Rage Against The Machine” and frankly, we’re glad it went unreleased since anything after these six songs would’ve been a letdown.
Trumpets, whistling, harmonica – this album’s got it all! In fact, it’s so good that 34+ years later you can still find GB playing sold-out shows to venues full of both the young and old alike (assuming the olds have found a sitter for the night). It’s both fun and serious, melodic and moshy, and the perfect album to remind you stage dives make you feel alive (again, only if you can get a sitter).
Starting off with an honorable mention, the album that started it all now mainly lives on Microsoft Zunes and bootleg YouTube playlists–and for good reason. Between tacky synths, hilariously bad titles, and extremely-dated suburban white boy hip-hop lingo, this one is painful at best. Years after its release the band would make the mistake of committing to a re-master before realizing how bad of an idea it was. Commenting on the album’s re-release, Campbell said “If you like the record, enjoy the new mixes. If you hate the record, I’m on your side.”
Considering the band started their careers singing about The Kool-Aid Man fighting Cap’n Crunch, this darker, more mature release is actually pretty decent. The problem is, it’s just that. Lyrically it feels less inspired than most, with certain hooks that already lacked depth repeating themselves a few too many times. Unfortunately this album’s lack of standout performances across 44 mins of strained yelling will leave you feeling as sad and empty as the dog on the album cover. Put simply, “Sister Cities” is an enjoyable enough Wonder Years record that is flanked by superior releases. If you love The Wonder Years, you like this record. If you aren’t really a fan, you can skip it.
Look, this one is rough around the edges, but it’s deeply important to the band’s history and helped carve out a place for their iconic sound in a burgeoning emo/pop-punk scene. There are still some rowdy tracks that will have you flailing about with angsty teenage spirit while cleaning your one-bedroom apartment, but there is also room for improvement and a definite realization that time has not been super kind to these songs. It’s a good time if you dig their early stuff, but it just doesn’t shine like the releases that immediately followed it.
The intro and opening track on this record really sets a powerful tone. One that will give you goosebumps, and also make you want to call your siblings and apologize for being a dickhead between uncontrollable sobs. This record showed the raw power of The Wonder Years in a new, more mature light and sent the band hurling into their next chapter as a sadder, more evolved version of themselves. Too bad the production on this one absolutely blows, because between catchy tunes and an amazing feature from Jason Aalon Butler of letlive., this record is an absolute ripper that makes few mistakes and almost all of them are the goddamn drum mix. Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK?! Can we get a re-master on this one, Soupy?
Finally. A well-produced Wonder Years release that combines their newer sound with crippling levels of sadness and nostalgia. “The Hum Goes on Forever” is guaranteed to make any new parent cry at least twice, and that’s a compliment from this emotional masterpiece of post-pop-punk perfection. The band’s latest release is nearly their magnum opus, and certainly the pinnacle of their second chapter. Coming off of a similar project that didn’t quite stick the landing, there is just so much that this record gets right, and that about all you can ask for from a bunch of pop punk dudes in their late thirties still writing songs about being depressed.
Continuing from the success of “The Upsides” this record saw the band hitting their stride, setting them apart from their peers and giving the kids a nasty string of hard-hitting punk songs about being broke, depressed, and balding while everyone around you gets married. A very strong collection of standout tracks and few relative duds, “Suburbia” plants itself firmly on the band’s upswing into legendary status as it delves into jaded perspectives on organized religion, drug use, and burying a friend. Yeah, it’s mostly sad, but if you’re a Wonder Years fan that’s basically what you sign up for every time you put on their music.
The Greatest Generation is the epitome of a pop punk band reaching relative maturity and finally dating women their own age, or at least close. The pimples of the past have faded as The Wonder Years present the best version of themselves in this relative glow-up that stands the test of time. This record is the farthest you can go while still being called pop-punk, and ushered in the band’s next chapter as the definitive face of the post-punk revival. The subtle harmonies are perfectly placed over the sad poetic passages of Campbell’s writing, and the instrumentation is infinitely smoother as you get taken on a journey through, you guessed it, a series of sad songs about growing older and realizing everything sucks. That said, this is the perfect record for that exact mood which is why we love it.
1966: 10 Year Old Piano Prodigy Kevin “GG” Allin Suffers Head Injury After Falling From Jungle Gym
1968: John Fogerty Writes ‘Fortunate Son’
1971: Jim Morrison Devises Foolproof Plan to Fake Own Death
1977: Delighted Johnny Ramone Finds Perfect Bowl to Achieve Dream Haircut
1980: Drug Dealer Mistakenly Delivers Large Amount of Heroin to Tom Petty’s Heartbreakers Instead of Johnny Thunders’ Heartbreakers
1985: The Cramps Announce Necessity to Tour Normal Rock Clubs as Reagan Administration Shutters More State Psychiatric Hospitals
1988: Swans’ Michael Gira Inadvertently Sets World Record For Longest Continuous Scowl
1989: Kid Rock Completes Reverse-Elocution Lessons in Order To Pass as a Redneck
1992: Supreme Court Strikes Down Law Which Restricted Women in Alt Rock Bands to Only Playing Bass
1996: Lighting Bolt Announce They Will Henceforth Only Perform on Floor