If you are an older millennial who grew up in the suburbs, Epitaph’s Punk-O-Rama Compilations were your introduction to punk. Yes, they were. Your pre-teen ass wasn’t reading Maximum Rock-n-Roll and attending basement shows in the bad part of town. That foolishness may have flown with your equally full-of-shit college friends, but we’re not one of your little friends. Anywho, here’s our ranking of the Punk-O-Rama compilations that absolutely no one will have an issue with and threaten to doxx my family in the comments.
10. Punk-O-Rama Vol. 9 (2004)
This one is a bit confusing. I guess it’s just my fault for expecting a compilation called Punk-O-Rama to actually feature punk music and not just a random assortment of emo outfits, cringe white dudes rapping, and whoever was signed to Tim Armstrong’s label at the time. This was an hour of your life you will never get back if you’re foolish enough to actually listen to this entire thing.
Play it again: “Miss Take” by Horrorpops is a throwback to early punk bands like The Gun Club.
Skip it: “Burn in Hell” Error. Apparently Brokenycde was not available.
9. Punk-O-Rama 7 (2002)
Remember when you were in school when you were assigned a paper and had like three months to write it and it’s the night before it’s due and you haven’t written a word so you stay up the entire night to write and just pray you get a C when you turn it in? Well, here’s that in compilation album form.
Play it again: The Division of Laura Lee “Black City” is the only track that really remotely stands out.
Skip it: NOFX’s cover of “Olympia, WA.” No. Just no.
8. Punk-O-Rama Vol. 10 (2005)
Much like the beloved family dog that couldn’t really walk up the stairs or hear too well anymore, Epitaph put the Punk-o-Rama compilations out of their misery after this one. An improvement on the previous one, this one is still cursed by being punk in name only thanks to the heavy emphasis on metalcore, hip-hop, and emo. The mid-aughts were truly a terrible time. Thanks Myspace.
Play it again: “Shadowland” by the Youth Group is pretty good, though it’s more indie rock than punk.
Skip it: “Mixin’ Up Adjectives” by This is Me Smiling answers the question no one asked of what Jens Lekman covering the Hold Steady might sound like.
7. Punk-O-Rama 8 (2003)
After listening to “Punk-O-Rama 7” you might expect each subsequent compilation to get progressively worse. Fun fact: this was the first entry in the Punk-O-Rama series I hadn’t bought since I started buying them in ‘98. Though this one is definitely of its time though which can be either good or bad depending on your outlook of punk music circa 2003. (Which did not age well.)
Play it again: I listened to this one so you didn’t have to.
Skip it: Yes.
6. Punk-O-Rama Vol. 2 (1996)
Epitaph’s second compilation could’ve easily been referred to as their sloppy seconds, which per my more online friends is not a sexist term. While it added more artists including the Descendents and Millencolin that weren’t on the first, much like one’s sloppy seconds, this one is just kind of forgettable.
Play it again: No one’s going to call you poser for not having an encyclopedic knowledge of this one.
Skip it: Me First and the Gimme Gimmes “Only the Good Die Young.” And thus hundreds of Punk Goes…compilations were born.
5. Punk-O-Rama Vol. 6 (2001)
Sometimes it’s just best to quit while you’re ahead. This comp isn’t terrible, but then it has its fair share of duds and you get the sense that some of the bigger bands were just phoning it in due to a contractual obligation. A pre-conspiracy theory Exene Cervenka shows up to do a cover of “We’re Desperate” with Pennywise so it’s got that going for it.
Play it again: “Only Lovers Left Alive” by the International what the hell they were calling themselves on this one.
Skip it: “Strangled” by Osker. Even emo kids thought this one was too on the nose.
4. Punk-O-Rama (1994)
This is the only comp in the series to feature the Offspring before they signed with Columbia and that seemingly gave record stores such as Sam Goody and FYE an excuse to charge $20 for this the fucking thing while still keeping the ‘dirt cheap’ sticker on it. Of course, they’re out of business now, so guess we had the last laugh. But strangely we still yearn for the days when we got gouged on physical media at the mall.
Play it again: “Crack in the Universe” by Wayne Kramer. If you don’t know who this is, you should not be reading this website.
Skip it: None of the tracks are skippable, but a few bands have more than one track on this one which is a big no-no when making a compilation.
3. Punk-O-Rama Vol. III (1998)
With a little bit of everything under the punk umbrella circa 1998 (so, yes, there’s ska) this compilation could be the Golden Corral of the Punk-O-Rama collections. Though unlike Golden Corral, this won’t leave you spending the remainder of the evening with the trots.
Play it again: “World’s on Heroin” a jaunty punk ditty with a not-so-jaunty title.
Skip it: “Delinquent Song” Voodoo Glow Skulls. The lone ska song on this one just feels out of place.
2. Punk-O-Rama 4: Straight Outta The Pit (1999)
Stylistically and quality-wise on par with Punk-O-Rama III. What gives this comp the edge is its inclusion of Tom Waits and Refused. And if you’re going to get into a whole ‘Tom Waits isn’t punk’ argument with me, you can kick rocks. Being a pedantic nerd is for posers and accountants.
Play it again: “Don’t Panic” by Gas Huffer because I’m a slut for garage punk.
Skip it: You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you don’t listen to this one in its entirety. Even the ska track slaps.
Punk-O-Rama #5 (2000)
Am I making this one number one because it features The Hives before they got big? Maybe. I mean, what other compilation featuring some kick-ass tracks by Millencolin, Dropkick Murphys, and The Bouncing Souls is going to teach you about the metric system? Well, maybe a Metric LP, but they’re not punk technically, and yes I understand that now I look like the pedantic nerd..
Play it again: Coinflip between “No Cigar” by Millencolin and “Automatic Teller” by New Bomb Turks.
Skip it: “Badge of Pride” by Pennywise. I can’t help but think Good Charlotte was listening to this one when they wrote “The Anthem.”
This Happy Gilmore ripoff is a vehicle for everyone’s second favorite racist podcaster, Adam Carolla. This generic underdog sports movie came out in 2007 and is based on his background in boxing and carpentry. The story offers nothing, but has a surprisingly good soundtrack featuring Bad Religion, The Offspring, and two Social Distortion songs. “Story of My Life” is featured over the closing credits, so you don’t need to support this anti-vax right-wing nutjob by digging into the film to listen to how it’s used.
Not only is Benadryl over-the-counter, but they also don’t even check your ID for it. But here’s the tricky part: you need to power through the exhaustion to push your fever dream into the conscious realm in the form of horrifying, waking sleep paralysis. When you finally see the Hat Man staring in your doorway, tell him that you are in a jam, and he’ll help you brainstorm. Just be sure to have a legal pad handy when you lock your gaze into his crimson eyes, and make sure that you don’t prick your finger to write down all your great ideas with your own blood this time.
I want you to familiarize yourself with the concept of the “blackout rage submission.” This one is really easy to pull off if you’re okay with losing track of alarming amounts of time. All you have to do is pour caffeine into your caffeine, let your soul explode into your spreadsheet, and grind your teeth into powder as you submit projects with reckless abandon. If you really want to level up, just make sure you have some smelling salts handy because you really shouldn’t have constricted sinuses when you get started. Time is money, and you can only swallow so much mucus when your stomach is already a hotbed of ramen noodles and Imodium.
When you’re ready to take your five-minute scroll through Upwork, you don’t want to over-commit, so it’s best if you slow down with some cold medicine to regain some lucidity. But here’s the trick: you’ve got to take the night-time formula during daylight hours, because you’ve already got nine gamer drinks gestating in your gut, and you’re about to go into orbit. I strongly recommend those blue Nyquil capsules. But just like in “The Matrix,” you might find yourself trying to peel off the wallpaper in your apartment because you think the seams are hiding the world outside the simulation, and you really can’t afford to be distracted right now. So make sure you have a totem handy so you can reliably discern between reality and hallucination.
If you follow all of the above tips faithfully, and without variation, you’re going to have to power through some diarrhea. It’s also worth noting that the store brand eucalyptus-infused facial tissues are not only surprisingly affordable but also an excellent way to soothe your anus after yet another “freelancer’s blowout.” And through the searing pain of trying to convince yourself that “being your own boss” allows you to have the best work/life balance you’ve ever had, just remember that one of the best parts about working in a gig economy is that you can cry in the comfort of your own bathroom for as long as you want.
“It’s a really bad time for media outlets that just want to report the news on acid.”
“Just goes to show that if you go woke, you’ll go broke eventually after nearly 30 highly successful years.”
“I can’t think of a worse time to be a journalist with ethics and standards.”
“That sucks. They had such informative and engaging content that I meant to get around to reading one day.”
“They once taught me how to make THC-infused sesame yuba noodles and I will never forget them for that.”
“First Buzzfeed News, then MTV News, and now this? The only hope we have left for fair and balanced stories is Yahoo News.”
“If only there were visible signs that the digital media industry was going to shit.”
Nothing says you shouldn’t have spent $80,000 on an English degree from NYU more than this album. Dreams of being a world-renowned published author were demoted to hopes of becoming a copywriter intern before settling on starting a blog about brewing IPAs. That’s a little Interpol’s fault. And a lot of boomers fault for jacking up the price of tuition. They only paid like 50 bucks for the same degree in their day.
This record will make you yearn for a simpler time when a youth large t-shirt fit, that finger mustache tattoo still looked cool, and MySpace was the dominant social media platform that somehow didn’t need a predatory algorithm to hook you with false dopamine hits. What a time.
You might remember playing “Wolf Like Me” on the pub jukebox before ordering a round of Jager bombs and entering the “blackout” portion of the evening. But now you’re sober and only drink Liquid Death because your favorite podcast host does. You once stood for something.
This record syncs up perfectly with a Wes Anderson movie. Can’t remember which one. Maybe the one with Tilda Swinton. For a brief period of time, Vampire Weekend inspired the world to look intellectual and read “Infinite Jest.” But it’s been at least 10 years and you still have 700 pages left to go. Give it up. We only read TikTok now.
This is the album that got you into indie and garage music. Also smoking. The special edition of this record even came with a pack of Marlboro Lights to get you going. But maybe it’s time to quit for your health. Not cigarettes, this album. No good can come out of romanticizing the past.
“Banquet” still bops, you occasionally put on “Helicopter,” and from time to time and you even text your buddy Dave to see if he remembers that time you were supposed to start a sick post-punk band inspired by Bloc Party, but never did because you got promoted to manager at American Apparel and “things got crazy.” What a shame.
If the first 40 seconds of “Such Great Heights” still does something to you emotionally, you may be entitled to student loan debt relief compensation. “Give Up” probably inspired you to get a Master’s Degree in Russian Literature, even though no one was hiring Dostoevsky experts in the free market at the time. Damn you, Ben Gibbard.
MGMT likely motivated you to buy a pair of skinny jeans and gave you the confidence to wear them in public. Don’t worry, happens to everyone. Hopefully you were one of those who got out of that phase alive with only minor fashion-related injuries. If not, there’s still time.
“Mr. Brightside” almost felt like the “Smells Like Teen Spirit” of the aughts, but unfortunately you haven’t been able to name a single new band since 2012. But who needs new music when you still have your copy of “Hot Fuss” you burnt off iTunes that you still listen to on repeat because it’s stuck in your car’s CD player and you can’t play anything else, even if you wanted to?
The “Garden State” OST and a couple of Shins songs changed your life in the mid-2000s. Perhaps for the worse because you spent the next several years trying to look aloof at parties to seem interesting. But you were 23. No one is interesting at that age. Luckily, you’re much wiser now and don’t need Zach Braff to curate your music taste.
The Cure never made a “bad” album, but you gotta start somewhere with these lists, so here we are. This is a fine record, it’s just not really the Cure. It’s a fun post-punk pop band that would eventually become The Cure. So as far as we’re concerned: no hairspray, no lipstick, no Cure.
This was the follow-up to The Cure’s most successful record “Wish.” And most of us wished that it was as good. It’s kind of even keel gothy-pop with a hit song called “Mint Car,” which isn’t about cars at all, but sex as a metaphor for fleeting happiness. Shocker. The production sounds good, and, well, there’s not much more to say about this one. The Cure has a lot of fucking albums, so there is no sense in focusing too much time on the weaker ones.
After the abyssal gloom of “Pornography,” most of the band quit, leaving Robert Smith to make most of this record himself. It’s weird and has all the psychedelic playfulness of a “Zoobilee Zoo” episode. This was also the record that started introducing “world music” elements to The Cure’s sonic palate, for better or worse. It’s a rainstick of a Cure album, that has its moments, but certainly not the place to start.
This is the third in a “trilogy” of albums that included “Pornography” and “Disintegration.” And it is definitely the “Return of the Jedi” of the bunch. This one is riddled with late-90s production tricks that have not aged well. I’m talking tiny techno drums, phased-out keyboards, and reverse guitar intros. It’s as if Butch Vig took a bunch of ketamine and drooled all over a Garbage album. And yes, that makes total sense.
This is the most recent album from The Cure and it’s actually pretty good. Most folks have probably never listened to it. It has the sad, it has the happy, and then it has more of the sad. Just what you want from a Cure record. The cover art is pretty bad though. Sort of like an AI Lars Ulrich painting.
This is The Cure’s “Sandinista” – some real bangers here, but a few too many tracks. Home to “Just Like Heaven” most of these songs are fairly upbeat. It’s like the Welbutren has finally kicked in and Bobby and the boys are here to have a good time. This is also one of those records where the ’80s production sound actually enhances the songs, especially the synth horns in “Why Can’t I Be You?” It’s like a red Maserati with the top down, tearing down the cocaine highway to Malibu.
This is an album that some music sites have chosen to shit on. But not this one. This is the edgiest record in their catalog. They traded out the chorus pedals on this one and replaced them with some Boss Distortion. Robert Smith’s voice even approaches something close to a growl at times, which actually rules. Fuck you, Stereogum.
This is where shit gets real. From here on out, it’s all glorious gloom. “Faith” is the dark twin to “Seventeen Seconds” in sound, mood, and amount of grey on the album cover. “The Funeral Party” might go down as the most Cure song to ever Cure. I can imagine the Chris Kattan character in the Goth Talk SNL sketch being based entirely on the vibe of this song. Full goth abandon.
Any record that has an opening line of “It doesn’t matter if we all die” has a lot of despair to sustain, and boy does this one do just that. “Pornography” is one of those records that if it stopped answering the phone, you’d definitely want emergency services to go and check on it. Despite the despair, it’s also the most rhythmically interesting record The Cure ever did. The drums are front and center on this one, like some proto-industrial Blue Man Group shit. But instead of performers catching marshmallows in their mouths, they’re catching quaaludes.
Everyone loves this record and for good reason – it continues the tradition of windchime use on a rock record. “Wish” is like if “Disintegration” got its shit together and finally finished that Psychology degree it started fifteen years ago. “Wish” always has money for rent and is an album you’d feel comfortable having cat-sit while you’re out of town. “Friday I’m in Love” is the one Cure song your norm-friends will know and for that, this record deserves a spot near the top of the list.
This one finds the band reformed after The Top, and their sound has a decidedly more approachable vibe. It has one of the strongest openers in the Cure’s catalog (In Between Days) and is the first to use a very rare wooden instrument that would feature prominently on future records – the acoustic guitar. “Close to Me” remains one of the band’s danciest jams and a reminder that the term “goth” is about as effective at characterizing the Cure as long sleeve fishnet shirts are in getting you laid.
I know, I know… this should be number one. Ranking “Disintegration” number 2 is some contrarian-Pitchfork bullshit and I should be stripped of my black fingernail polish and Aquanet for doing so. But hear me out – yes, it’s The Cure at their absolute highest powers. Yes, there’s not an album in their catalog that captures the band’s essence as well as this one does. And yes every song is a dark magic jewel in the crown of sad rock. But “Disintegration” is the logical culmination of a decade’s worth of solid songwriting and development, and for that, I let this one fall at number 2. Feel free to pour absinthe in my gas tank.
We will end this list the way we started it – by using abstractions to rate music rather than the music itself. The Cure’s second record is a wild departure from its predecessor in like, every way. It’d be like if U2’s second record sounded like Depeche Mode, if Depeche Mode didn’t exist, and they continued to sound like that for the next 40 years. To try something so different and unique, and to nail it so perfectly on a single album is a feat rarely seen in music. And for that, I rank this number 1. Come at me, nerds.
