CAPE MAY, N.J. — Local Punk Steve Tillman’s nerves were quickly put to ease recently after realizing the trumpets he heard blaring were merely angels sounding off the end of the world and not a band playing ska music, repenting sources report.
“I was at my apartment taking a piss when all of a sudden I could hear trumpets blasting as if they were right outside my window,” Tillman explained, adding he lives across the street from a venue that books “annoying” bands all the time. “The first thought I had was, ‘Goddamnit. It’s my only day off this week, and now I gotta hear shitty ska music at 8:30 in the morning.’ Then I quickly noticed the fire and blood rain, and then the four horsemen riding in the sky. I thanked my lucky stars it wasn’t a Reel Big Fish tour or some shit. I’m just glad my lease is up this month.”
The Angel who sounded the first trumpet had an inkling that this misunderstanding might occur.
“This is so embarrassing. I knew we should have proclaimed the end times with seven sick shredding guitar solos or something,” the Angel explained. “It was pretty obvious the inhabitants of this realm were going to confuse the six other Angels and I for a third wave ska band, and now we have to have that in the back of our minds while we cleans the Earth of sinners. The whole trumpet idea was perfect until about 25 years ago.”
Ska fan Dwayne Kilbourne talks about his own experiences with his preferred music genre and the religious world.
“Seems like every two years or so, there will be a few weeks where evangelical Christians will gather outside our band’s jam space,” Kilbourne said. “They must hear our horn section and think it’s the Apocalypse or something, because they all just stand there with their heads facing up, staring into the sun. I saw a seagull crap on some guy’s face one time, it was awesome. Where’s your god now, birdshit-brows?”
At press time, a second blow of the trumpets was eventually revealed to be Tillman’s downstairs neighbor watching the “Sanford and Son” opening credits at a very high volume.
Dayton may be the ‘Birthplace of Aviation,’ but no one really cares about that anymore. Arguably more exciting is the fact that Dayton is the birthplace of Brainiac (or 3RAN1AC if you want to be a dick about it). Before their five-year run was cut tragically short by the untimely death of lead singer, Tim Taylor, they pushed the envelope on nearly every subgenre of punk and hardcore in existence. The band’s out-of-control sound has been cited to have influenced countless bands including, but not limited to; Nine Inch Nails, The Mars Volta, The Blood Brothers, and somehow even Muse (when they were good, we assume).
Among the first wave of punk acts to emerge in the late ‘70s, Dead Boys from Cleveland made their mark as one of the most chaotic and violent groups of the fledgling genre. Not unlike the multitude of Ohio residents who have never left their hometowns, the original iteration of the band would ultimately fall apart after releasing only two albums. An event equating to an unfortunate waste of a mountain of potential. Still their influence and legacy lives on, spawning sporadic reunions as a fresh lineup has been teasing new music since 2017.
Have you ever wondered what System Of A Down would sound like if they consisted of just a cello player and a drummer? Quit dreaming and listen to Cincinnati’s very own Lung. Performing as just a two-piece, the band manages to craft a lush and chaotic sound thanks to Kate Wakefield’s shredding effects-driven cello and operatic voice. Drummer Daisy Caplan holds down the fort with thudding dramatic beats. Together they make a racket so righteous you’d think they were from a respectable state.
Genre-bending pioneers and horndog legends Nine Inch Nails originated as the brainchild of Cleveland’s Trent Reznor. Despite Ohio’s legacy of agricultural innovation, Nine Inch Nails is largely responsible for popularizing and propelling Industrial Rock into the mainstream, though you would be apt to not mention that in front of Reznor or a farmer. The next time you listen to ‘Closer’ alone in your car like a depraved psychopath, consider how truly challenging it must have been for Trent to overcome such instilled Midwestern reservation to deliver the sex jam of the century.
A full two years before the masked metal band Slipknot emerged, Mushroomhead was already ahead of the curve regarding their costumed concept. In fact, the commonalities between the bands coupled with the suspected plagiarism committed by Slipknot lead to a chaotic feud that erupted in a violent 1999 tour-stop in Mushroomhead’s hometown of Cleveland, OH. As Slipknot took the stage, a horde of angry concertgoers began pelting the band with anything they could get their hands on, including (allegedly) a padlock that struck bassist Paul Dedrick Gray square in the face. All of this is apparently water under the bridge as each band claims fandom of the other, but one thing remains clear: Don’t fuck with Cleveland or you’ll get the padlock.
Columbus’s All Dogs formed as a bit of a supergroup featuring members of local legends, Delay, Saintseneca, and Slaughter Beach, Dog. Their sugary hooks mixed with their vulnerable lyricism made their debut album, ‘Kicking Every Day,’ an instant hit among those yearning for the next pop-punk explosion. While the band would essentially disappear for eight years after that review, rumblings in their camp have suggested a comeback may be on the horizon.
You don’t have to be a divorced middle-aged Dad to thoroughly enjoy The National, but it helps. Though technically formed in Brooklyn, New York circa 1999, the original lineup of the band was comprised entirely of members that claim Cincinnati as their home base. Since Brooklyn already has enough bands, we likely won’t get too much pushback here by rightfully claiming them for the Buckeye State. With captivating lyrics and delicately produced backbeats, The National remains one of the most revered contemporary alt-rock bands among very sad Midwesterners, and likely will for years to come.
This one is probably pretty obvious considering their massively popular and genre-defying single “Ohio Is For Lovers.” While Hawthorne Heights in no way invented or pioneered Midwestern Emo, we want to give Ohio a win here and fill our comment section with inflammatory retorts, so we’ll just go ahead and say it: Emo music did not exist until Hawthorne Heights released ‘The Silence In Black In White,’ making Ohio not just the birthplace for modern Emo, but the entire genre as a whole.
