Indiana Jones was introduced to the world in the year 1981, and so was Canada’s SNFU. Both traveled the world having oddball adventures, searching for mysterious artifacts, fighting Nazis on tanks – and both had plenty of influence on the future of their art forms. Raiders re-invented the action-adventure genre the way SNFU re-invented hardcore. They also have in common imitators who could never capture their inherent silliness. What they don’t have in common is the habit of releasing bullshit – there is no bad SNFU record. Nevertheless, we ranked them and put one in last place. Don’t bother trying this with Jones.
8. Never Trouble Trouble Until Trouble Troubles You (2013)
It would be easy to dismiss the only Belke-less SNFU album for that fact alone, and that’s probably what we’re doing. Still thrashing and tight ‘til Tuesday, the guitars are missing the brothers’ radioactive/mutant quality, much easier to notice when it’s gone. The late Mr. Chi Pig is belting out his cutesy horror lyrics nearly as well as ever and, coming out of a rough period of addiction and homelessness, that’s a more impressive miracle than getting a crowd to make really tiny fish sandwiches or healing some jerk with leprosy. Let’s hope he gets resurrected faster than this other guy.
Play it again: “Donald the Dead”
Skip it: “Speed Weenie”
7. FYULABA (1996)
Geography dictates that there are countless similarities between Vancouver and Seattle. Trees and mountains are everywhere, it won’t stop raining, and hard drugs could feasibly be elected Mayor. This is a very Vancouver album – green and grimy and soaking wet and Bif Naked is here – except for the song that takes place in Virginia with Lorena Bobbitt cutting her husband’s cheating doodle off. That’s cool, but it’s a 3,000-mile jump in location. Was no one paying attention to continuity?
Play it again: “Gaggle of Friends”
Skip it: “Charlie Still Smirks”
6. Something Green and Leafy This Way Comes (1993)
There weren’t many SNFU shows without “Reality is a Ride on the Bus” or “Painful Reminder” in the setlist, and there are other gems on this album too – but when an emergency rehab stint a few days into recording sidelines your producer, you may lose some of the sonic intensity you were hoping would be your top cherry. The blazing Belke attack is somewhat neutered, and that snare drum is bordering on Snapcase. Chi is, as always, a suitably jovial/disturbing host.
Play it again: “Joni Mitchell Tapes”
Skip it: “Seven Minutes Closer to Death”
5. If You Swear, You’ll Catch No Fish (1986)
Fresh off of pretty much inventing melodic hardcore, these freaks are already fucking with the formula. “What if Jerry Lee Lewis was Darby Crash?” seems to be the seed of “The Devil’s Voice,” while “I Forget” sounds as if AC/DC had their first show at the 9:30 Club. The only problem here is the blatant lie in the title – you had at least one grandparent who both cursed a blue streak and could easily snatch up a rainbow trout with their bare hands.
Play it again: “Black Cloud”
Skip it: “Welcome to My Humble Life of Disarray”
4. Better Than a Stick in the Eye (1988)
Leading off with an ad for their new venture as futon salesmen, SNFU are all business on this record. Sure, for this band a G.I. Joe coming to life and raging with murderous penis envy is all in a day’s work, and laying the groundwork for the entire future of skate punk is something you can just do whenever you feel like it. Seriously, go out to your garage right now and try it. Just watch out for that old box of action figures.
Play it again: “Time to Buy a Futon”
Skip it: “Postman’s Pet Peeve”
3. …And No One Else Wanted to Play (1985)
One of those “instant classics,” a term so overused it lost all meaning until it was brought back to life by the writing of this article. This instant classic hits the ground not only running but already chasing down prey – it’s speedy, it’s thrashy, it’s gnarly, it’s… catchy?! Sure is, and we can still hear the influence of this album today. Also noteworthy is that this band is from Edmonton, which until now we thought was a fictional city like Metropolis or Saskatoon.
Play it again: “Loser at Life/Loser at Death”
Skip it: “Bodies in the Wall”
2. The One Voted Most Likely to Succeed (1995)
The mid-’90s were a pivotal time for SNFU. Punk records were finally sounding like they were made in a real studio with real engineers, which was good because at the time they were selling an absurd amount of them while writing the catchiest shit ever. This was also a time when science was the closest they’d ever gotten to figuring out what the fuck is happening on any of the band’s album covers. Looking at them for an extended period is discouraged, you’d have a better chance of staying sane if you were taking care of a remote mountain hotel for the winter.
Play it again: “Drunk on a Bike”
Skip it: “Manuel”
1. In the Meantime and In Between Time (2004)
At the time of its release, many had forgotten about SNFU or assumed they had petered out the way bands do. Unexpectedly, after eight long silent years, they unleash this blast of speed, riffage, and absurdity that tears through town like a tornado. The playing is sphincter-tight and Chi Pig is in top form on both the page and the mic. When those burners are firing, they can go places that no one else can. If we have the guts, they’re happy to take us along for the ride.
Play it again: “I Think Fine Art’s Fine”
Skip it: If you don’t care for fine art.
Hippos kill more humans than any other animal in the world, but aside from inviting a few mean jokes toward the heaviest member of your family, there’s very little chance for Hungry Hungry Hippos to tear a family apart forever.
If you’ve never played it, Apples to Apples is basically like an even more dumbed-down version of Cards Against Humanity without the “Against Humanity” part. Just simple, non hentai/AIDS/racism nouns matched to adjectives. Any family game night can have a sore loser, but if this one causes significant friction in your family you guys have way deeper issues to work out.
Basically a glorified version of Tic Tac Toe, Connect 4 actually requires you to make pleasant chit-chat in the hopes of distracting your opponent from what’s right in front of their face. If your family can’t enjoy Connect 4 without serious conflict, move out immediately.
Look, if you’re arguing over a game of checkers, it has nothing to do with the checkers and everything to do with the fact that you hate your siblings.
Unless someone in your family is drunk enough to make really inappropriate “twink” comments you’re pretty safe playing Dream Phone.
In the commercials when you lose at Jenga that’s okay, it’s part of the fun! In reality, it’s Mom, every single goddamned time. Is she doing it for attention?
A deceptively challenging game with a million opportunities to make one innocent mistake that will 100% be interpreted as a lie.
This game seems straightforward, but there’s just enough room for error in the interpretation of certain questions to build accusations of cheating that will serve as the seeds for resentments that can last a lifetime.
There’s no reason for this game to devolve into a passive-aggressive tiff rooted in homophobia when played with a family group, and yet every family has at least one dude who will bring it there every single time.
In the movie, Jumanji is a magical game forcing players into an epic high-stakes adventure. In reality, it’s little more than a re-skinned version of Candyland that will have your family shouting “Whose dumb idea was it to play this boring game anyway?!” in no time.
This classic Napoleon-themed war game is simple enough to instill children with the close-to-the-chest tact they’ll one day use to tiptoe through future family gatherings.
Versions of this game date back to ancient Egypt, but the modern American version always ends the same way: Children in the back of a car whining “Why do we always have to go to Grandma’s house, it’s boring!”
If your family agrees to play Risk, it’s because it’s a board game they have heard of and they have absolutely no information beyond that. Technically the game can last days, but you’ll all storm off hating one another within a few torturous hours.
A straight-up dice gambling game disguised as wholesome entertainment, sort of like the razor-thin veneer of “loving family” You know is hanging by a thread.
If you think your problem-drinking uncle isn’t going to turn your game of Othello into a race thing you’ve got another thing coming.
A game with absolutely zero strategy, the winner is determined by what each player randomly spins. So why is my brother looking so smug after winning? You didn’t like, DO anything bro, get over yourself.
Another zero strategy game, the winner being predetermined by the order of the cards at the beginning of the game. So why does your cousin keep insisting she’s “good at it”? You should be able to let it go, but you just can’t, I mean what does that even mean?!
With all of those colors, numbers, and a somewhat complex scoring system there’s bound to be at least one member of your family with just enough of a processing disorder to have a full-on meltdown.
This ain’t your Grandmother’s card game! That’s probably why she’s so confused. You’re trying to explain the rules as politely as you can but you know it’s only a matter of time before you yell at her, and you already hate yourself for it.
This game seems like a cutesy celebration of ‘80s consumerism, but it can bring out the worst in people. It’s basically Black Friday, the home edition. You even need to find your parking spot after you buy everything.
The first time you hear that little buzzer go off everyone has a nice fun laugh. After the 100th time, you will look the woman who gave birth to you dead in the eye and say “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
While its cousin Scrabble is a much more potent argument generator, Boggle gets some points because you can grab it with one hand and use it as a projectile if you’re mad enough.
It’s never too early to teach kids the smarmy passive-aggression that will generate physical fights with their siblings for years, maybe decades!
Fresh off the first of many hiatuses, something about “Blaze” is a little off. Remember that this is an American band, and since the world had last heard from them America had to endure 9/11, Columbine, and Woodstock ‘99. Nickelback were consistently hitting #1 and subprime mortgages were a dime a dozen – but 2003 wasn’t as great as it sounds. “Blaze” is still Lagwagon, your mom will still let you play it in the car.
Rock and roll really does belong to the youth, punk rock even more so, with ‘90s skate punk being a prime example. Despite that, these ancient skate punks actually have some legs left. “Surviving California” and “Bubble” are serious Lagwagon, but throwing everything they had into the ambitious “The Suffering” may have tuckered these old boys out a bit. They’re back, but unlike RKL they aren’t mad about it.
This much-loved 12” slab of tartan barf is the first album to feature current Lagwagon drummer Dave Raun, one of many eventual members who was young, wealthy, and liked acid. Dave’s a decent guy (like most of us) until he drums, when something akin to demonic possession occurs and the violence begins. “Double Plaidinum” sounds remarkably cohesive for a band with two new members, but it only reaches Gingham status.
Something about the combination of the noose on the cover and the warm, wall–of–sound production of “Hang” could easily send you down an internet rabbit hole of autoerotic accidents, and despite everything you learn about how easy it is to get the smallest thing wrong and end in one of the least private tragedies imaginable, you will definitely look into the actual logistics of it once you finish writing this article. Maybe blast “You Know Me” at the peak.
You know things are serious when they tune down right at the beginning. “Resolve” serves as a eulogy for original drummer Derrick Plourde, and the loss can be heard in every note on the album. Good thing it’s not your job to write jokes about this album, eh? You might end up typing different versions of “Thanks, Joey. Thanks a lot.” until you hit your word count. Thanks, Joey. Beautiful record, but you fucked up my day.
The word “Duh” means nothing to us, so we did some research and our data suggests it’s an acronym for “a Debut record this good is UnHeard of.” One of the blueprints of the “Fat” sound, every piece that makes Lagwagon great is already here. Even today, there are plenty of folks who will passionately argue that it’s still their best album. It’s not and they’re goofs, but “Tragic Vision” alone makes a very good case for them, along with classics “Bury the Hatchet” and “Mr. Coffee.”
This record is 25 years old and still feels like “the new one.” The ‘90s were an incredible journey for Lagwagon, going from house parties to full houses and writing dozens of songs that are still played and loved every single day. If you see them live and listen to what happens when they introduce “May 16” you wonder why it isn’t a federal holiday. We could use a pre-game for Memorial Day.
Lagwagon may be a garbage soccer team, but they’re a hell of a band. The songs that actually appear on this collage of movie clips (including Bobcat Goldthwait’s immortal “Shakes the Clown”) are nearly all classics of the era, and the ones that aren’t totally are as well. Your band covered “Bye for Now” because a) everyone loved it and sang along and b) it was the only song on the album your guitarist could play. If there’s a negative here, it’s that Van Morrison may have gotten royalties from this record.
Top-tier musicianship and 14 of the most memorable songs you’ve ever heard might be enough to achieve the gold medal. Honestly, the impact of “Sleep” alone could possibly do it – if there was a party in 1996 where the highlight wasn’t when that song came on the boombox, we weren’t at it. The master stroke was releasing an album that features a song called “Name Dropping” and somehow that’s not the song that drops the names of the two most famous and sexiest humans to ever walk the earth, Sherilyn Fenn and Billy Gibbons. Subtle artistry like that has some legs.
Anyway, with five full-lengths and two extended plays, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better pound-for-pound discography than the band that some say are the inventors of modern metalcore as we know and love it. (As long as you ignore Cave In.)
This six-song EP (or three two-song EPs, whatever) is made up of extra songs during their time recording “Versions” that were released over a six month period while writing “The Tropic Rot.” I mean, it’s Poison the Well, so it’s still decent… but you can kind of see why they didn’t make it onto the album, and rarely make it into a setlist.
Don’t try to twist this into a “They said Tropic Rot sucks!” spin zone. If this album was in any other band’s catalog, it would be one of their best. But these are the kings we’re talking about, and technically it’s still a Top 5 album for them. It’s just in our aging, “been down since the beginning” nature to rank the newest ones last, but truth be told, this album rules. Bold decisions to include songs like “When I Lose, You Lose As Well” and “Are You Anywhere” paid off handsomely, as it proves there is no sound the band can’t capture. Chris Hornbrook in particular, who may very well be the best drummer in all of hardcore, shines especially bright.
After winning hardcore, apparently the band decided it would dominate post-hardcore with their fourth album. “Versions” is the first not to have Derek Miller on guitar, so to make up for the loss, the band had Jason Boyer play guitar on a handful of songs, and guitarist Ryan Primack added bass, banjo, mandolin, synthesizer, and Wurlitzer piano to his credit. Other instruments used on the album include trumpet, trombone, and a muu guitar; you know… classic hardcore stuff. That’s just Poison the Well though… whatever they decide to do, it’s gonna be good. Also, despite the plethora of clean vocals throughout, “Versions” boasts Jeff Moreira’s most pissed off performance of his career. I felt some of those high screeches way down in my prematurito el babies.
The very first release from the band, and the only one to not feature Jeff Moreira on vocals (Aryeh Lehrer sang on this five-song EP), the foundation was set early that melodic hardcore was in for a rude awakening. Is the Angus sample that kicks off the first song the most famous movie quote in hardcore history?
This album is much better than it gets credit for, mostly because for some reason, when it came out, no one was satisfied. If you wanted a repeat of Opposite, it wasn’t that. The songs have more structure and polish, which is to be expected of a sophomore release. If you wanted a giant leap or a completely new progression of sound, it isn’t that either. It’s the perfect transition record from what they started out as to what they’d eventually become. Essentially, if you don’t like “Tear From the Red,” you’re a poser who probably pronounces the first word of the album like “Tears for Fears” and not “tear up that major label record contract after one release.”
Speaking of… this entry is the band’s one and only album on Atlantic Records, who they signed to after their deal with Trustkill ended. A true masterpiece, and lynchpin of what hardcore can be when left to its own devices, this is the last album to feature Miller (alongside Primack) on guitar, who quit the band after vigorous touring to start the Christmas music duo Sleigh Bells. There isn’t a breakdown (or two) in every song like its predecessor… but when you write songs like Crystal Lake, one per album is enough. If you look up the phrase “ahead of its time” in the dictionary, the definition is just the album art for YCBY.
A lot of hype and buzzwords get thrown around with this album. “Genre-defining,” “groundbreaking,” “legendary,” and so on and so forth. Well let us be the first to tell you… it’s all true. Every word, every praise, every single positive thing said about this album is spot on. The band’s first full-length LP raised the bar so high it wished for wings that work, and ushered in a new era of metalcore that has yet to slow down. The addition of Moreira on vocals (and his amazing lyrical style) is just the cherry on top of what was the perfect alignment of young musicians hitting their stride. Hornbrook’s monster drumming, the duo of Primack/Miller on guitars getting both heavy and melodic, Jacob Bannon of Converge’s iconic artwork, it all elicits emotions in hardcore kids a certain age (old). The lineups for this album’s touring cycle will live on in infamy forever. Oh shit, sorry… that’s an unpleasant word.