Oh shit, Mom just said she and Steve ordered pizza and they got us mozzarella sticks! It’s time to wave the checkered flag and throw on our best Hawaiian shirt. You know, the one with the fedora pinned to it like mittens on a snow jacket. We ranked 50 ska songs based on how good they go with eating mozzarella sticks.
50. Buck-O-Nine “Irish Drinking Song”
This Irish jig-ska song makes us want to run around and fight our friends (but no punching faces). However, it puts us in more of a potato scone mood than a mozzarella stick mood.
49. Mephiskapheles “The Bumble Bee Tuna Song”
This song is great for making us hungry for mom’s famous tuna sandwiches and also the ominously warm embrace of Beelzebub. Unfortunately, it simply does not make us want to eat crispy, delicious ‘tizers. Hail Skatan.
48. Hepcat “Dance Wid’ Me”
While not as fast or bouncy as most songs on this list, “Dance Wid’ Me” is perfect for many things in our life. Mostly dancing poorly. Unfortunately, eating cheese sticks just isn’t one of them. Heck of a song though.
47. Voodoo Glow Skulls “Shoot The Moon”
We doubt this song title is in reference to the sick yo-yo move we learned at camp last summer. If it was, will one of the Glow Skulls please let us know? If so, we’ll move this much higher up on the list because when you add ska to yo-yo’s and cheese sticks, they form the holy trinity.
46. Dance Hall Crashers “Lost Again”
This swingy ’90s ska classic is timeless yet perfectly encapsulates the time it was released. With every horn line we get a wave of what it must have felt like to live in that magical time known as the Summer of Ska. However, it also reminds us of the time we rollerbladed too fast after “too much” fried cheese and upchucked something heinous so we’re gonna have to rank this one on the lower side.
45. Westbound Train “I’m No Different”
This sounds like old people music. No offense, old people. But you just can’t rollerblade to the Cheese Stick Hut for a hodgepodge of moz when you’re listening to this song.
44. Skankin’ Pickle “I’m In Love With a Girl Named Spike”
Despite the sick high school marching band-style horns, this song just doesn’t pair with cheese sticks. However, this band does make us think of another appetizer though. We’ll let you guess which one. Give up? It was tuna ceviche.
43. Operation Ivy “Unity”
This song reminds me of the time we all got moz sticks and then when there was only one left, we started arguing over who got to eat it. I wish someone would have played this song at that moment. Maybe then John would still be here with us today, instead of hanging out with the kids down the street.
42. No Doubt “Spiderwebs”
Everyone knows this song, even people who don’t eat mozzarella sticks. “Spiderwebs” mixes 3rd wave synth-ska with a pinch harmonic-based lead guitar making for a really fun musical experience while describing a stalker. We’d rank this one much higher if it didn’t slow down so much in the middle. We’re trying to enjoy a summer day by eating moz sticks until we’re literally sweating cheese. We don’t need a creeping reminder of our mortality.
41. Catbite “Everybody Talks”
Now THIS is cheese stick eatin’ music! The current wave of ska bands focuses more on two-tone with lyrics that are far more serious than their third-wave counterparts. While we were initially concerned with how this would impact the pair-ability of ska with cheese sticks, our fears were swiftly quelled. Bring on the sticks!
40. Bad Operation “Grandma’s Car”
Bad Operation is one of the “New Tone” bands that make up what will likely be known in the future as the mythical 4th wave of ska. “Grandma’s Car” is a great song that makes us consider stealing our grandma’s car and heading down to the restaurant ourselves to get the sticks hot out of the fryer. Unfortunately, we can’t because we don’t have a grandma or the ability to drive a car.
39. The Pietasters “Out All Night”
The second this one started, our foot started tapping and our stomach started growling. It sounded like it was saying, “Sweet, now we’re primed for cheese sticks!” It’s pretty impressive the things your body can do when you listen to ska.
38. Rx Bandits “Analog Boy”
We’re not sure what it is about suburban reggae that makes breaded mozzarella go down extra smooth, but this song has it in spades. We can’t wait until we’re old enough to have an unrequited crush on a girl and relate to bands like this but until then we’ll be at the kitchen table pounding sticks.
37. The Toasters “Don’t Let the Bastards Grind You Down”
Parents, teachers, mall cops. These are the bastards who grind us down in our life. But not today. Today we put on the Toasters and toast to cheesy sticks.
36. MU330 “Tune Me Out”
Turn it on! Turn it on! Turn it o-o-on! We are, of course, referencing the fryers that will cook our delicious friend appy-tappys.
35. The Forces of Evil “Angry Anthem”
What’s the first name in mozzarella sticks? “Aaron.” This song is perfect for the occasion. It’s fast, it’s fun, and it has lots of swearing. And let us tell you, someone our age fucking LOVES swear words. My shit ass damn mouth is piss-ass watering right now.
34. Stacked Like Pancakes “SFDD”
Can you believe they got away with sneaking in sick cuss words into the title of the song?! Now these guys are clever. Plus, they’ve contributed to the soundtrack of our journey to stickville. God, we love cuss words.
33. Madness “One Step Beyond”
Who needs vocals when you’ve got some hot, hot sax? And who needs vegetables when cheese is just as good? That’s a question we’ll be asking mom in about 45 minutes when this food gets here.
32. Save Ferris “The World Is New”
This song is the most fun we’ve had since we found out we were gonna binge on bovine brie tonight. It is impossible not to dance to this band. And we’re working up a real appetite doing the dance we got grounded for saying the name of.
31. The Slackers “Have The Time”
Do we have the time to eat the six orders of moz sticks we begged Mom to order? As long as we’re listening to ska bangers like this one we do.
The band’s first release without Gilbert, and their last with god-tier bassist Peter Hook, “Waiting For the Siren’s Call” boasts only a sprinkle of highlights in what is otherwise kind of a snoozeworthy collection of songs. “Hey Now What You Doing” invokes “Out of Time”-era REM, while “Turn” echoes back to the band’s most indie rocking late ‘80s moments. Just like pizza and sex, though, even the worst New Order is better than no New Order at all.
If the thought of Billy Corgan doing a guest spot on a New Order record makes you want to retch, proceed with barf bag in hand. “Get Ready’s” third track, “Turn My Way” features the head Pumpkin in charge on its chorus, and the whole thing comes off sounding a little too similar to that Moby and Gwen Stefani song for comfort. Let this be a lesson: Never let an ugly bald guy duet with a gorgeous blonde ever again. Opening track “Crystal” is a banger, though, and one of Hook’s finest performances on record. You can hit stop right there.
New Order’s highest Billboard charting album, and their first after longtime label Factory Records folded, “Republic” kicks off with the marvelous lead single “Regret,” accompanied by a charmingly awkward “Baywatch” collab music video featuring the Hoff himself. The remainder of the album shows the band leaning further into the house and italo-disco they helped to pioneer, with piano and strings paying each other compliments on tracks like “Spooky” and “Young Offender”, and even a touch of hip hop on “Ruined In a Day” and “Times Change”.
Anchored by the enduring hit “Bizarre Love Triangle,” the band did us a favor on this album and made one side all rock songs and the other side all dance songs. So no matter if you picked your date up at the rave or the Cure concert, you’ll know exactly which side to throw on to get busy when you’re home. Convenient!
A decade break in between albums this far into a band’s career can produce dicey results, but “Music Complete” is a pleasant surprise. We’re still Hookless here, but Gilbert is back behind the keys for the first time since 2001, and what we’re served is a very listenable set of tracks that lean much more into the dance than the rock. We’re also treated to some fun guest vocals courtesy of La Roux’s Elly Jackson (“Tutti Frutti,” “People on the Highline”) and The Killers’ Brandon Flowers (“Superheated”). Oh yeah… Iggy Pop shows up, too. He does the same weird spoken word schtick on “Stray Dog” as he did 23 years prior on “Black Sunshine” by White Zombie. It sounded much cooler then.
If Joy Division wrote the blueprint for moody post-punk, New Order called in the contractor and poured the foundation with “Movement.” With the loss of Curtis still fresh in the air, Hook assumes vocal duties on “Dreams Never End” and “Doubts Even Here,” while Sumner sings the rest. Bernie’s innocent quiver proved a more compelling contrast to the cold synths and proto-industrial grooves, so the front seat became his permanently. It’s worth pointing out that this album might have inspired the Edge to buy a pedalboard, so feel about that how you will.
It would be remiss not to mention that the bulk of the band’s biggest hits were released only as singles, and 1987’s two-disc “Substance” compiles all of them up to that point, with some 12” mixes and re-records to boot. This is the one you can throw on at the barbecue and your guests won’t hate you for it.
With the promise of a ‘90s electronic music renaissance looming over the horizon, New Order did what any forward-thinking dance group would do and made a pilgrimage to Spanish party island Ibiza to record a good portion of “Technique.” The result is a fun push and pull of club bangers like “Round & Round” and “Vanishing Point” aside breezy rockers like “All the Way” and “Dream Attack.” Longtime visual collaborator Peter Seville provides a super cool album cover depicting a cherub statue bathed in purples and blues; an aesthetic borrowed by countless alt-rock bands in the early ‘90s. If there were any doubts that New Order were from the future, they laid them to rest with this one.
Any record that features the drummer on the cover immediately gets bumped to the front of the line, but honestly, this album should be rebranded as “The Peter Hook Show” because homeboy is in beast mode for the entire 40 minutes and 7 seconds. This is undoubtedly the point where New Order came into their own, with production value taking a significant leap forward. Stephen Morris is a monster out of a Cronenberg film, morphing himself into half man, half machine, and in turn, creating a trunk-rattling drum sound that propels tracks like “The Perfect Kiss” and “Sub-culture.” If the band called it quits right here they would have already cemented their reputation as legends of alternative music until the end of time.
New Order’s piece de resistance and the apex of post-punk, inspiring just about every worthwhile musical artist you can name ever since. From Hook’s beautiful hiccup at the beginning of “Age of Consent,” to the lucid dreamy synth leads in “Your Silent Face,” to the dancefloor-ready “586” and “Ultraviolence,” “Power, Corruption & Lies” is a marionette string tugging at your very soul. You’re crying, you’re dancing, you’re nostalgic yet hopeful. Released in 1983, but it’s everything we’re feeling in 2023. Not to mention Saville’s beautiful still life cover art looks equally chic in a record frame as it does on a $500 Raf Simons crewneck. Long live New Order. Thank you for not breaking up.
Converge’s debut release is a lot like a freshman high school yearbook photo—looking back, there was some good stuff even if the guy in the picture turned out to be a sketchy bartender that sells drugs and exotic meat out of the back of his hometown bar now. Good thing Jacob Bannon is the vegan, straight edge type. Otherwise, listening to this album would be depressing instead of nostalgic.
This album is the one your cool, older cousin Tony liked. Tony loved this album as much as he loved huffing glue and stealing bikes. He listened to it while you pissed the sleeping bag because you weren’t ready to hear this album when you were 10. But what were you doing hanging out with a 17-year-old, anyway? You weren’t ready for it then, and it’s honestly not worth dredging it back up and the subsequent therapist’s appointment now.
Overall, this album is classic Converge. However, it is the only Converge album featuring an alarm clock in a song’s intro. Alarm clocks are for cops. Fuck cops and fuck songs that remind us of cops. Also, why is our sleep paralysis demon Gabe painted on the cover? That guy is the worst. Cops and demons aside, this album is objectively better than the entire Rush discography.
This collaboration with Chelsea Wolfe is the only album in the Converge discography that you can properly do drugs to. We’ll stop short of calling it Boston’s “Dark Side of the Moon”, but if you light some incense and shotgun a couple Mountain Dews, you’ll really blast off, man. Tripping on caffeine and yellow dye 5 to this album is transformative. So transformative, you’ll forget you sublease a one-room apartment from your ex-wife’s step-uncle with two cats and a Russian man that hates cats.
You might remember this album for its tight transitions that make the songs seem to bleed together through a minefield of squelches and feedback as well as the surprise full-album visualizer posted to YouTube in advance of the album’s release. The video features vibrating colors and patterns interplaying with one another while the songs vary between jackhammers full of rage and plodding, glacial doom. Huh. Maybe there are two Converge records you can do drugs to. I’ll go get the Mountain Dew!
Imagine having a baby with a dude and he writes “A Single Tear” in response. Pretty sick, right? If there’s anything babies and new moms love, it’s thrashing guitars, guttural screams, and breakneck drumming that are the perfect soundtrack for chugging 12 warm beers. Almost enough to make you treat every day like it’s Father’s Day.
This album about failure and loss is a lot more fun than it sounds. First off, the album cover is a severed hand, and who doesn’t love finding one of those? Plus, it’s got these inspirational song titles like, “Death King” and “In Her Blood” which are—a better time than you think.
This album is the Sergeant Peppers for aging hardcore dudes clinging to their camo cargo shorts and ‘90s Honda Civic hatchback. Those dudes have it at number one, but if we’re honest, the cover is more iconic than the music. Good thing you’re cranking out that bootleg merch in your mom’s garage! Why should Converge be the only people raking in cash on hoodies, tank tops, hats, banners, bandanas, tee-shirts, onesies, ashtrays, coozies, and tumblers with the visage of a stoic woman emblazoned on it? Nothing says, “I had 00-gauged ears twenty years ago!” like Jane Doe merch.
“No Heroes” sounds like the band caught an eagle and put it in a blender—sorry, not sorry, PETA. The main ingredients in this bird smoothie include some of the most unintelligible lyrics in the Converge discography, razor-sharp guitars that only get better as the album progresses, drama, and the absolute wall-smasher that is “No Heroes”. This refreshing, feather soda should be played loud because it is the work of a group of musicians hellbent on playing heavy music at a blistering pace and killing rare birds at a rate captive breeders cannot keep up with.
When “Axe To Fall” came out, the 2008 financial crisis was fresh in the air, Millennials were ruining the restaurant industry with avocado toast, and Converge was ripping America’s underwear right over its head with this album. From the blistering opening of “Dark Horse” to the depths of “Cruel Bloom” and “Wretched World”, this album does it all. The anger and weirdness fit perfectly with the then and now—when things are totally fine and nothing is wrong at all.
Eric would use the phrase “I’m not racist, but” an uncomfortable amount, so I’d have no choice but to sneak out right after I ate without saying goodbye.
Jack would cancel his barbecue a half hour after everyone got there because, according to him, the grill “just didn’t feel right today.” I don’t know what that means but I won’t be asking follow-up questions.
Steve is going to go on and on about how the Pixies always threw a way better barbecue than Nirvana ever did, but they didn’t get enough credit in the mainstream for doing so. That’s not something I care about when I’m five beers deep.
The Black Flag guitarist would ask us all to chip in to help fund his barbecue despite making us pay a $5 cover to get in. Total cheapskate.
The Kiss guitarist would own an over-the-top flashy apron that says something like “kiss the cook” that he wears while barbecuing and you know he has a couple extra at a merch table he set up. But we all know it’s just a gimmick to distract us from the fact that he’s an average griller at best.
J Mascis would text me while I was on my way to ask if I could pick up a five-pound bag of ice. No problem, right? But 10 minutes later he would see if I could get some ketchup too since it totally slipped his mind. Then burgers. Oh, and hot dogs. Also, buns. I’d basically be supplying this whole thing.
John would make a lot of weird gestures with his face and mouth as he grills up a plate of burgers. Almost like he’s in pain. Something tells me that’s completely unnecessary and it’s making us all uneasy. But unfortunately there’s no good way to broach the “grill face” thing with him.
Zakk is an experienced griller, but he seems like he’d make us hunt and kill our own food for the barbecue. He’d drop us off in a forest, arm us each with a bow and arrow, and tell us not to come back until we’ve “bagged a deer.” I’m just not built for that type of hands-on barbecue.
Noel is definitely the kind of guy who would pick up an acoustic guitar at a party and play “Wonderwall” after saying something like “I wrote this on my own with no help from anyone.” Read the room, Noel.
Rivers would wear his shirt in the pool and I couldn’t get past that. He’d also ask us to keep the noise levels down to a minimum so we don’t disturb the neighbors, even though their party is already more boisterous than his. I might just go next door.
Yngwie would make everyone hang out in the front yard while he grills in the back because that’s all just “part of his process.” Evidently, his process also consists of boasting about how great of a cook he is. He’d make it difficult to separate the grill from the griller.
I’d feel like kind of a dork when I start complaining about the humidity and she’s over there grilling while wearing a leather jacket not even breaking a sweat. Outdoor parties are typically at their best when we’re all suffering from the heat together as a unit.
The Korn guitarist would host a barbecue that was sponsored by Monster Energy. He wouldn’t reveal that to us directly, but I’d put it together after seeing the coolers full of them, Monster Energy-infused snacks, and patio umbrellas with that “M” logo everywhere. Personally, I prefer barbecues that aren’t sponsored by energy drinks.
The My Bloody Valentine guitarist’s party would be a lot more fun if she assembled a livelier playlist. I mean, I like Slowdive and Elliott Smith as much as the next guy, but would it kill you to put on “Who Let the Dogs Out”?
The Strokes guitarist would invite us all to his barbecue in a condo in Brooklyn, only he uses a George Foreman Grill to cook hamburgers one at a time in his galley kitchen. I don’t think one bed, one bath apartments in Park Slope are meant for this sort of summertime event.
Scott would have nothing but cornhole boards strewn across his backyard and would constantly encourage us all to play in some sort of tournament. He would even call himself the commissioner and volunteer to keep score. Can’t we just hang out, Scott?
Everyone knows that when you show up to barbecues you exclusively talk about your favorite family sitcoms of the late’80s and early ’90s and the fact we would all have to tiptoe around mentioning “Full House” would be a problem.
The Minor Threat, Bad Religion, and Dag Nasty guitarist’s barbecue would feature six live bands, four of which he’d be in. Starting to think he’d see us less as guests to a barbecue and more of an audience he can perform to. Very sneaky, Brian.
Lars would have a designated fence we would all use to urinate on in his backyard. While it’s fairly convenient and surprisingly private, I’d likely have to take a dump at some point and it turns out his fence is the only form of plumbing on his entire property.
“Punkgasm” was the second album by Don Caballero featuring a new lineup with original member drummer Damon Che remaining at the epicenter. This album builds on the more pounding rhythmic approach of the previous “World Class Listening Problem” and is the first Don Cab album to feature vocals. If you’ve been an instrumental band since the early ‘90s, introducing singing is taking a chance but the ‘80s prog rock inflection of “Celestial Dusty Groove” works surprisingly well. While “Punkgasm”, the album’s namesake track also has vocals, it’s the wackiest song Don Cab ever recorded sounding like a Van Halen tribute band suffering from the effects of heatstroke in an unairconditioned practice space.
1993 was an inflection point in alternative music. While Nirvana trolled their fan base with the less than radio-friendly “In Utero” bands like Green Day and the Offspring were readying their polished major label debuts in hopes of gigantic payouts. “For Respect”, Don Caballero’s first full-length, sounds like it comes from an alternate timeline where Grunge, chain wallets, and frat bros going to shows never happened. It’s an important album, with Don Cab effectively creating their own genre of frenetic instrumental music, unattached to any scene or pretenses.
Most music that is labeled as “math rock” is pretty sterile and boring. While an 11/16 polyrhythm might be impressive to someone who graduated from the Berklee College of Music, its complexity is lost on those of us who can’t even get clapping on the one and three right. Don Cab may experiment with odd time signatures, but calling them math rock is unfair. On “What Burns Never Returns,” Damon Che’s drumming is as precise as it is chaotic, with Ian Williams’ guitar lines adding abrasive and intricate textures. The rest of the players anchor these songs, giving Damon and Ian plenty of room to fill with swirling pulses of sound.
A great sequel takes what made an original special and amplifies it. “Don Caballero 2” is the Empire Strikes Back to For Respect’s New Hope, expanding their musical universe and adding depth. While most of their previous song clocked in at five or six minutes, “Don Caballero 2” sees them pushing things with several tracks at the ten-minute and 11-minute mark. This studio album also captures Don Cab experimenting more with dissonance and atmosphere, complicated song structures, and a head-bashing sense of repetition.
Remember when you were in a relationship for eight years, you broke up, and months later you were dating someone new? World Class Listening Problem is Don Caballero’s rebound with Damon Che finding an entirely new lineup than who six years earlier wrote and recorded American Don. Most notably missing was longtime guitarist Ian Williams (now of Battles), who had contributed so much artistically over the previous four albums. Though most bands can’t weather through such a change in lineups “World Class Listening Problems” feels fresh and optimistic, seeing the band go in a new direction that’s more linear and riff-based.
“American Don,” the band’s fourth studio outing, would be Don Caballero’s last before the line-up change that would leave Damon Che as the only original member. With spindly guitar lines, pummelling bass, and galloping drumming, this album shows them at peak chemistry, despite the ongoing friction between Damon and Ian that would be their undoing. Add analog recording wizard Steve Albini, who captured it all on tape with a punchy and organic sizzle, and “America Don” of the best albums of indie instrumental music ever recorded.