Strung Out revolutionized punk music by being talented. Metal-infused skate punk with a hint of thrash has never been this technically proficient. The solos per minute are through the roof, the drumming is somehow more accurate than a metronome, and they basically invented octaves. If there’s one thing we know: Strung Out is good at instruments. They also released a bunch of albums to prove their exceptional musicianship. Here’s how they all rank.
9. Songs of Armor and Devotion (2019)
Just when you thought we didn’t need any more songs of armor or devotion, Strung Out came along and gave the people what they didn’t ask for. There are a few highlights on this one, but it just doesn’t hit like the others. Though to be honest, it’s one of the better album covers in their discography. That’s something.
Play it again: “Rebels and Saints”
Skip it: “Under the Western Sky”
8. Blackhawks Over Los Angeles (2007)
Hate to judge an album by its cover, but what is going on in the artwork for this one? Almost had to deduct rank points for that alone. The record feels softer than many of their others. Not necessarily a bad thing, but when we’re used to getting sick licks upon sick licks, it feels like you’re not getting your money’s worth.
Play it again: “Diver”
Skip it: “Dirty Little Secret”
7. Another Day in Paradise (1994)
“Another Day in Paradise” is an excellent prequel to later records, but you could tell they were really trying to figure things out here. They worked out the kinks almost immediately following this release, but there are a handful of awkward parts that they would probably write differently today. For instance, there’s a brief four-second ska part in the song “In Harm’s Way.” When I listen to Strung Out, I don’t want to be encouraged to skank.
Play it again: “Ashes” “Talking to Myself” “Lost?”
Skip it: “Broken”
6. An American Paradox (2002)
Really wanted to put this one higher because there are a lot of classic Strung Out tracks contained within. But there are a few rare misses too. Emphasis on rare. Nonetheless, it’s still an extremely satisfying Strung Out release that is a nice continuation of their EP “The Element of Sonic Defiance” (2000). Singer Jason Cruz once said that the album cover was originally supposed to be “a lot more fucking gnarly, but we had to change it because of 9/11.” Sounds like the terrorists won.
Play it again: “Alien Amplifier” “Unkoil” “Razor Sex”
Skip it: “An American Paradox”
5. Agents of the Underground (2009)
Don’t get me wrong, “Agents of the Underground” is a great record. It checks all the Strung Out boxes and if you’re a fan of their other stuff, it will not disappoint. On the other hand, if you made AI listen to all their discography and then write a Strung Out record, it would likely spit out this one. Only it would mess up all the solos. We all know artificial intelligence is shit at guitar.
Play it again: “The Fever and the Sound” “Heart Attack” “Andy Warhol”
Skip it: “Nation of Thieves”
4. Transmission.Alpha.Delta (2015)
Would love to be in the room when Strung Out writes an album. Only because I don’t believe that a group of human beings can keep up with writing such excellent music for decades. Like, if you told me Strung Out was developed in a lab, I would absolutely believe you. Perhaps they’re even transfusing blood with 18-year-olds to stay instrumentally fit. Someone should get to the bottom of that.
Play it again: “Rats in the Wall” “Nowheresville” “Modern Drugs”
Skip it: “No Apologies”
3. Exile in Oblivion (2004)
This one leans heavily on the metal side. I mean, get a load of some of these song titles: “Her Name in Blood,” “Lucifermotorcade,” “Vampires,” and “Skeletondanse.” This could almost be a Misfits or Rob Zombie album based on track titles alone. The only thing this album is missing is “Teenagers From Mars” and “Dragula.” Perfect otherwise.
Play it again: “Analog” “Blueprint of the Fall” “Swan Dive”
Skip it: Maybe “Scarlet”?
2. Suburban Teenage Wasteland Blues (1996)
No one ever told Strung Out that you only need three chords to write a punk song, not 28. But here they were completely reinventing the wheel and making sonically precise music. Starting with this record, Strung Out went through a brief 20-year phase where they only wrote incredible music. This one solidified them as a force to be moshed to.
Play it again: “Firecracker” “Bring Out Your Dead” “Rottin’ Apple”
Skip it: This album is so stacked that there aren’t any weak links.
1. Twisted By Design (1998)
If you’re going to write a skate punk album in the ‘90s, you might as well write one of the best ones. “Too Close to See” is quite possibly the greatest opening track of all time too. You can fact-check me on that claim, if you want. This was also the last album with late bassist Jim Cherry, who evidently had a big part in writing their songs, making Strung Out the only band to allow their bass player to have any input whatsoever in their music. Truly diverse musicians.
Play it again: And again. And again. And again.
Skip it: You might want to skip this album if you’re not really into incredible music.
Safe to say GG never flushes, and we’d somehow have to buy toilet bowl cleaner weekly instead of our usual once every four years.
Proud Boys are notorious for not doing dishes because according to them, “that’s a woman’s job.” Plus, he’d have Fox News on in the background all day long and always try to get me to storm government buildings with him. I simply do not have the energy for all that.
Morrissey would call a nightly house meeting to air his grievances but always cancels at the last minute. Then he’d ask where we all were for the meeting. Listen, if anyone’s going to gaslight in this household it’s going to be me to the electric company.
Bono would hang one of those “in this house we believe” signs on the front lawn before pleading with the county to get the affordable housing unit to be built two towns over instead of down the street. Plus, he’d always be asking me to sign weird petitions.
Don’t ask me how I know but this man does zero chores.
Jack White seems like he would give me a very demand-y tour rider before moving in. But I just don’t have the time to cut the crust off of his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for him. I’ve got TV shows to catch up on.
It doesn’t matter how many Post-it notes of my name are on my leftover meatball parmesan sandwich in the fridge, Fat Mike is going to finish it without my consent. Then he’s going to complain that it wasn’t very good and that I should’ve gone to the place across the street instead.
Rob would always be asking to borrow money because he just has to have some rare prop from “The Munsters” TV show that he’s currently bidding on. While I agree that the Eddie Munster suit looks would go perfectly with the Lily Munster gown collectible he already has, is it really worth $15,000?
Tim wouldn’t believe someone would throw out a perfectly good mattress he found on the sidewalk. Only to realize three days later that the stained Serta is infested with bed bugs that, according to him, will “probably work itself out.”
Henry would be a total nightmare during board game night. I don’t even want to envision the tantrum we would have to endure if he lost at Settlers of Catan. He’d also somehow know rules for games that aren’t even in the instructions.
Billy just seems like he would never let me turn the heat on in winter and remind me that I forgot to shut off the kitchen light after I left. Just let me drain my bank account on basic utilities in peace.
Julian would always be leaving hair in the sink. Not the bathroom sink. The kitchen one. We all know strands of hair belong in the shower, not the sink.
He’d be fine roommate-wise, but I wouldn’t be able to bring Dave anywhere because he’d always ask to see the manager at every establishment we visit. Our weekly Dave and Buster’s visit is going to be completely ruined by this guy.
John sang a lot about love, so he would definitely be the kind of person who would hang a “Live, Laugh, Love” sign in every room. He’d swear it just goes well with his “But First, Coffee” sign in the kitchen.
Anthony would put the toilet paper roll on backwards and call that “California style.” I’m not rearranging my entire life for any member of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Maybe Flea.
Trent seems like the kind of guy who breeds dogs on the side. He would of course do this in the living room when I’m trying to watch “Succession.” All I ask is that I don’t watch animals procreate while Brian Cox is on the screen.
The lead singer of Rush is for sure a sword guy, which means he’ll be late on rent again this month because he just had to get the Game of Thrones replica Heartsbane Damascus imported from Iceland. Can’t you just get the store-brand one?
Ian is the most straight edge person in existence, which is totally cool, but he’s probably going to give me a stern lecture for taking Advil to relieve my headache. I prefer not to hide my ibuprofen dependence from the people I live with.
Chris seems like a very sensitive person. That’s totally fine, but there are only so many times I can hear about how he thinks he pissed off the Rite-Aid cashier because he asked if she could break a 20-dollar bill. I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, Dashboard.
Sure, he’d get annoying pretty quickly since he would call me a yuppie every time I had to go to my job at the warehouse, even though he doesn’t work at all, but he could probably talk a home invader out of stealing my laptop while we were tied up. Or at the very least, irritate the crap out of them until they flee.
A bad Smoking Popes album is hard to make, but after a decades long hiatus the boys in SP finally reunited and managed to create one craptastic piece of forgettable schlock. I’d like to say that “Stay Down” has its moments, but even after relistening to this album an hour ago I cannot recall what any of them were. So here it is – the bottom of the barrel. Don’t worry it gets much better after this.
“Return to form” is not a strong word because, if you look closely, it’s actually three words. But still, “This Is Only a Test” is a strong return to form for a band that clearly had some shit to work through (*see above entry for reference*). It may not have the same charisma as some other SP records, but the sound and the feeling you’re familiar with is right there, and that for sure makes this album a respectable offering.
“Get Fired” sounds like the feeling of wanting to punch your guidance counselor who is right about you. It sounds like the high school breakup that at the time seemed like everything but, in hindsight, could have been an email. It sounds like if Jawbreaker hadn’t gone to college. You get it – it’s a good album and you should absolutely experience it, but rest assured that better things await you later on.
Technically, this is a studio album. However, it’s only a studio album because Smoking Popes needed something to get out of their Capitol Records contract and quickly shat out a handful of unreleasable (until years later) covers to fill out their contractual obligations and give a middle finger to the label execs, which personally I respect a lot. So for that reason, and the fact that most of these covers are actually really fucking solid, “The Party’s Over” gets an honorable mention.
This album is kinda fucked up. Not in a bad way, but it’s definitely got a different feeling than any other Smoking Popes album. It sounds heavier, and longer, more intricate instrumentation augments the band’s iconic “woe the fuck is me” lyrical mentality. Ultimately, it feels like they took a big gamble on “Into the Agony” and we can all be grateful that they pulled it off.
The title “Destination Failure” feels like as much a description of the band’s own self-image as it was a prophecy of their musical future. In this way the album could almost be heard as the last, experimental death cry of a band who could feel control slipping away from them and decadent to turn fully into it. Much like a tour bus crash “Destination Failure” is tragic, beautiful, reflective and, in hindsight, completely unavoidable when you steer into the skid.
Without “Born To Quit” soundtracks for ‘90s coming-of-age comedies would be nearly nonexistent. “Tommy Boy,” “Angus,” “Boys,” and “Clueless” all include at least one Smoking Popes from this album, making them the Smash Mouth of mid-nineties movies that tell teenagers it’s okay to be themselves. Fuck, you could put that seem distinction on punk rock as a whole – and likewise, “Born To Quit” encapsulated that ideal perfectly.
A comeback album of sorts, “Roses” marked the band’s first studio album after an eleven-year hiatus. There’s nothing wrong with “Roses” of course. By and large, every Cranberries album is very enjoyable, and songs like “Tomorrow” and “Schizophrenic Playboy” are easy contenders for top-tier songs by the band. But still, there’s nothing really super groundbreaking here. But still, it’s important to remember this one came out in 2012 when the world had just crawled through the hazy fever dream of “party rocking” and badly needed an aspirin and an Egg McMuffin. The kind only the lilting sounds of the Cranberries could provide.
If there’s one thing you can say for “To the Faithful Departed,” it is probably the darkest-sounding Cranberries album. But still, that doesn’t stop it from sounding like a step down from the risk-taking perfection of “Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?” or the lyricism of “No Need to Argue.” There are some wonderful songs, to be sure. “Hollywood,” is a dark and rocking, banshee shriek of an opener, while “When You’re Gone” and “Free to Decide” are back-to-back slices of perfection and “Electric Blue” combines experimental rock with Celtic music and old-school Gregorian chanting. Like a mass held by the Priest from “Fleabag.” Still, other songs feel like steps away from the band’s best output. “Salvation,” for instance, feels a bit like a DARE lecture with punk music accompanying it. And other sections of the album just seem to drag, like a migraine you can’t quite shake, even by mid-day. The kind where you think it’s gone for twenty minutes or so at a time, but then it comes back and you think to yourself: “Should I take another Tylenol? I’ve had three already today and I don’t wanna push it, but it’s one of those ones that’s right behind my eyes.” It’s sinus. Don’t bother. Blow your nose. Drink some water. You’ll be okay by tonight. Anyway… it’s a fine album. We just wish it were… finer.
We have a soft spot for acoustic covers of classic songs. And “Something Else” does a great job at just that. Really, the seventh studio album by the group is a greatest hits piece, but more than drunken regurgitation, this album is sort of a Frankenstein-ish re-working (and sometimes improvement upon) the band’s first four LPs (as well as a few new ones). “Linger” and “Just My Imagination” sound incredible when scored with violins and acoustic guitars, and “Dreams” and “When You’re Gone” take on entirely new vibrance in their re-workings. Meanwhile, the album’s high point is a brand new song called “The Glory,” a beautiful, autumnal piece we could listen to again and again. (Note, to all writers, it’s a fantastic piece of writing music.) Still, not every song fares quite as well from the all-acoustic treatment. Some songs by the band are so punk that the acoustic treatment strips them a little. “Zombie,” for instance, while not at all bad as a folk song, definitely misses something in not having its hard abrasiveness.
The Cranberries have always been gifted at conjuring up familiar pain. This album does it as well as any, even in its opener, “Never Grow Old.” Melancholy piano music plays as O’Riordan sings: “I had a dream, strange it may seem, it was my perfect day. Open my eyes, I realize, it was my perfect day.” There’s something ghostly, otherworldly about that sentiment that pervades through “Wake Up and Smell the Coffee,” even in the most punkish songs like “Analyze” and the titular track. Ultimately, the whole thing plays out like one raucous day, and a beautiful, raucous send-off before the band’s eleven-year hiatus. Sure, it’s not always the most original sound. “Analyze” sounds a bit like if Blondie all went to Catholic school, with only the most ruler-happy of nuns before revolting and “Time is Ticking Out” echoes the concerns of “Zombie” and “Free to Decide” in ways that don’t quite live up to either. But still, it’s the band’s most profoundly underrated album and one that’s always worth a listen. We should all wake up and smell the coffee. But make ours with oat milk, please. Because even though we’re punk here at The Hard Times, the dairy makes us feel crumb-crumb in our tum-tum.
2019 is a ghost of a year now. Four years ago (at the time of writing this) feels both like yesterday and an endless ocean away. It was a year of ghosts in music too. Like Leonard Cohen’s hauntingly beautiful and spare “Thanks For the Dance,” “In the End” was released after the death of its central creative force, in this case, over a year after the death of Dolores O’Riordan. O’Riordan had completed most of the vocals prior to her death and after a brief period of mourning, the band took to the studio to finish the musical accompaniments. It worked. Beautifully. This album feels like a warm hug, a visit from a friend you thought you’d never see again. The lyrics are appropriately dark, as if O’Riordan knew that she wouldn’t live to see the record’s release. Songs like “Lost,” “A Place I Know” and “All Over Now” are almost haunting. Sonically, it feels like a throwback to the very beginning, longing, pain and politics all blend together for a gorgeous listening experience. One that proves that even in death, O’Riordan would always do things on her own terms.
Being a Cranberries fan means going through phases: Phase One is discovering the band through “Zombie.” Phase two is listening to other big singles, your “Lingers,” your “Dreamses” your “Odes to my Family.” Phase three is realizing that “Zombie” is just scratching the surface of how good The Cranberries can actually be. Just think about that, if any other band wrote “Zombie” it would be there best song by a country mile, but with the Berries, it’s just firmly in the top ten. Still, “No Need to Argue” is a stone-cold classic. Songs like “Twenty-One” or “I Can’t Be With You,” are undeniably great. But it does fall short of our number one slot.
Yes, and now on to number one, it’s… (record scratch) Wait, what? WHAT? “Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?” isn’t the BEST album by the Cranberries? I suggest we boycott The Hard Times without delay, publish the addresses of the writers and editors, have them tarred, feathered, and run out of town. We all know you’re about to start piss-babying in the comments like we know y’all like to do. To that, we say: Search your feeling. You know it to be true. For one thing, don’t you think it would be boring if a band as legendary as this really made their first record their best? You don’t. Oh, well fuck us then. Listen, this is a brilliant record. It’s infallible. It’s one of the most perfect debut LPs imaginable. From the very first song, the witchy “I Still Do,” an ominous portent of O’Riordan’s own untimely death, the band’s sound was sophisticated and established. This album contains “Linger” and “Dreams,” two of the most famous songs of all time, and the unappreciated but incredible “Sunday,” which we here at The H.T. like to brag that “we liked before TikTok did.” We would never offer a slight against this album except to say that portions of it (even phenomenal songs like “Waltzing Back” and “Wanted”) feel slllllliiiiiiightly undercooked. But that’s forgivable, of course. So why is it only at number two? Well, that’s because of…
Yes. That’s right. Dark horse over here. “Bury the Hatchet” has come in at number one of the list. But before you have us all pressed to death as witches and heretics, let us defend our choice. “Bury the Hatchet” represents, to us at least, the peak of what the Cranberries were doing in the ‘90s. This album perfectly combines the subtle, yearning of O’Riordan’s lyrics, the haunting quality of her voice, the gorgeous instrumentation, and the driving, punkish intent. Songs like “Animal Instinct” and “Just My Imagination” are endlessly enjoyable throwbacks to the band’s influences, groups like Fleetwood Mac. Meanwhile “Loud and Clear” and “Desperate Andy” showcase punk playfulness and “Saving Grace” and “You and Me” feature a kind of beauty beyond beauty. It’s a subtle, beautiful, enjoyable, and mature album. One that shows the band was capable of growth and depth. That’s why we have it at number one.