You remember Lagwagon, your older brother listened to them during his brief punk phase before going off to college and becoming an investment banker. Hailing from Goleta, CA and slowly absorbing members of Rich Kids on L.S.D. since 1989, Lagwagon have maintained their devotion to a few key elements since the beginning; catchy melodies, widdly riffs, manic fills, Fat Wreck Chords. There’s also that habit Joey Cape has of rhyming those repeating, competing three-syllable words which can be frustrating, elating. Climb into our shitty tour van as we rank the albums of Lagwagon.
9. Blaze (2003)
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.
Play it again: “Billionaire”
Skip it: “Lullaby”
8. Railer (2019)
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.
Play it again: “The Suffering”
Skip it: “Fan Fiction”
7. Double Plaidinum (1997)
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.
Play it again: “Alien 8”
Skip it: “Twenty-Seven”
6. Hang (2014)
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.
Play it again: “Burden of Proof / Reign”
Skip it: “Poison in the Well”
5. Resolve (2005)
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.
Play it again: “Heartbreaking Music”
Skip it: “Rager”
4. Duh (1992)
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.”
Play it again: “Angry Days”
Skip it: “Stop Whining”
3. Let’s Talk About Feelings (1998)
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.
Play it again: “Owen Meaney”
Skip it: “Change Despair”
2. Trashed (1994)
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.
Play it again: “Lazy”
Skip it: Just don’t stream anything that will net any racist, pickled fuckwads any money.
1. Hoss (1995)
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.
Play it again: “Rifle”
Skip it: Theme from “Bonanza”
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.
