Reddit is a place to learn about a variety of hobbies, immerse yourself in new subcultures, and get lectured by mods and bots alike for not understanding the cryptic, hidden rules of a given subreddit buried in some sidebar. It sucks, which is why we only spend about 10 hours there per day.
No subreddit is more infuriating than r/punk. It reads mostly like pre-tween children asking their older siblings for permission to listen to new bands and wear clothing. After some investigation, it turns out that’s exactly who is posting these questions. And it’s all the same kid making burner accounts! We sat down with 10-year-old Timmy Lignelli to find out what his fucking deal is.
The Hard Times: You post every poser-esque question to the r/punk subreddit. Why?
Timmy Lignelli: Well, I’m new to punk so I need to ask if it’s okay to put the Ramones and Sum 41 on the same playlist.
No, you don’t need to ask. Also, no, it’s not okay to do that. What are you, 10? Oh right.
But how else can I ask people for a good YouTube tutorial for learning how to draw the Misfits logo? Or how do I get tips for choosing what color socks to wear to my first punk show when I finally turn 16?
Again, these aren’t things you need an online community to determine.
Or how will I ever discover if there’s a band heavier than Good Charlotte? Granted, I could just go onto Spotify or YouTube and try listening to other punk bands or looking at Related Artists on any platform, but I feel safer asking strangers for approval to do so first. Am I punk if I yelled at my mom to get out of my room without knocking first?
I think you need some confidence and to trust that you can figure these things out on your own.
Are denim jackets still punk? Were they ever punk??? Are you allowed to wear Vans if you don’t skateboard? Is Mike Vallely the greatest Black Flag vocalist of all time? Please, help me!
Holy shit, Timmy. Take some deep breaths and just-
What branch of the military is the most punk to join? I’m terrified of loud noises and people, do you have any tips for going to my first punk show? What is Narendra Modi’s favorite punk band?
Never mind. Reddit is the perfect place for you.
This guy is lawful-evil incarnate. As a rule, never trip with someone who has had anyone lobotomized before, especially their own wife. He was a monstrous husband, even by the metric of ‘40s rich white guys, and not much better of a father. I would trip with my own Dad before I tripped with Beatrice’s.
This would be like eating shrooms with Jeff Bezos if Jeff Bezos had confirmed kills. The only reason he’s not dead last is because he’s voiced by Stephen Root, and isn’t that guy just a treasure?
Obviously a poor choice, he’s a narc and he loves entrapment. Even if he was going to be cool about it, the guy is a loose cannon.
Somehow on a show where most of the characters are animals, Vance is the one most likely to bite you. He starts as Mel Gibson and then somehow gets worse. Unless you like being in the background of TMZ celebrity meltdown videos or getting brought to sketchy parties and ditched, Vance is one of the last people you want to do drugs with or even be around.
Wow, 5 entries in and I am already regretting my decision to trip with one of these characters. Well, Butterscotch is a stone-cold bummer. Even the fact that he’s a talking horse won’t charm you out of being dragged down by his self-serious degenerate Jack Kerouac wannabe demeanor—another hard pass.
Tripping on mushrooms while an aged and bitter J.D. Salinger calls you a phony is literally something that happens when you go to hell.
One of the unwritten rules of tripping is “Never trip with a cult leader.” In fact, they really ought to write it down, it’s pretty important. It’s been proven that hallucinogenic drugs can put the user in a more suggestible state, and once I reached that state this dude would yes-and me out of house and home for sure.
Some research has suggested that mushrooms can actually help repair the brain, but probably not after your evil husband cuts a big piece of it out. Sorry, Honey. For, like, a lot.
I wouldn’t even buy mushrooms from Ritchie Osbourne let alone trip with him. This former child actor turned shady sleazeball drug lord pimp is one of the most despicable characters on the show, and on this show that’s saying a lot. Go home, Goober!
There’s only one news anchor I: would ever do shrooms with and Peter Jennings is dead.
If I wanted to spend my entire mushroom trip with an overly critical voice telling me I’m inadequate I would just do it alone.
Sure, Ralph is “nice,” but he’s a total square! He’s definitely never done mushrooms before, and I don’t want to have to babysit him after he peaks and realizes his privileged family is racist toward cats.
Best case scenario, Flip would spend the entire trip telling you how brilliant his latest project is. More likely, he’ll get insecure and violent and do whatever he can to get you naked.
I mean, hopefully, he’s sober again, right? Right?
He would be charming at first, but then your third eye would open and you would see right through him.
I feel like Gekko would find a way to make tripping a competition somehow. Like she would make a bunch of passive-aggressive brags about how the shrooms are hitting her harder and how much better her visuals are, and suggest I look into getting on her level.
“Hey, it’s not like we’re strung out on LSD!”
If you think the titular character belongs at the top of this list you haven’t watched the show. Sure he can be fun if you catch him on a good day, but the wind never stays just right for BoJack very long does it? One minute he’s the life of the party buying restaurants on a whim just to show off, the next he’s calling himself from your phone to make it look like he wasn’t there when you overdosed.
He’s part Quentin Tarantino, part spider, two creatures whose work I respect (making cool movies and controlling fly populations respectively) but never want to be alone in a room with. Especially on drugs.
I’m as pro-choice as the next guy but Sextina’s celebratory views on abortion might be a little heavy to handle on shrooms.
Hollyhock can’t handle her high, and if she winds up panicking and going to the hospital you’ve got eight pissed-off dads to answer to.
Let’s open the allegorical door right from the get-go: Silverchair truly doesn’t have a bad album, and their sophomore LP “Freak Show” still shines brighter than most ‘90s records and a carefully cultivated combination of blue-green petrol and piss yellow-green chlorine. Still, one entry had to be listed last, so we encourage you to start freaking out both your body and soul right now and for the rest of your lives. 1997’s “Freak Show” is the equivalent of Green Day’s underrated “Insomniac,” which came out just two years before. Why? Well, “Insomniac” is also a second major label release, and both “Freak Show” and “Insomniac” are angry follow-ups to breakout studio albums with better production but slightly worse songs. Another note worth mentioning is that all of the pieces but one listed here’s “play it again” sections highlight said album’s opening tracks; Silverchair sure knows how to start a party.
While Silverchair obsessors low, high, down yonder, and up above clamor for more and more records, we sadly still think that it’s good that they never had a chance to make a universally known stinker like several post-“Pinkerton” Weezer LPs and every single album and song from Lil Xan. Silverchair’s as-of-now 2007 studio album finale “Young Modern” is their version of Title Fight’s third and also final-as-of-now studio album “Hyperview” in that it was a total divergence record that was both unique and cool, but not as enjoyable as the album that came before it. We’re not sorry at all for saying this, and we know that that previous sentence’s opinion that doubles as a fact will cause you to keep losing sleep; insomnia is for the birds… Swan songs are also literally for the birds.
There are happily no “skip it” tracks for the rest of these album rankings, but we sadly know that this specific sticky slot is going to ruffle some frog feathers. However, you’re always going to be wrong yesterday, today, and tomorrow. In a potentially or kinetically strong take, 1995’s multi-platinum Silverchair effort “Frogstomp” is the band’s “In Utero”. Basically, it isn’t clean enough to be quite like “Nevermind,” but it’s dirty and melodic enough to be mainstream like the previously referenced Seattle three-piece Blissful Heavenly Awakenings Of Ecstasy could only be. Power trios can truly rock hard, and this teenage dirtbag effort deservedly gets its flowers, even if Daniel Johns publicly disavows much of it. Oh well. Bassist Chris Joannou and drummer Ben Gillies probably still privately rock this and find a way to do so with the rest of the band’s extensive and brilliant catalog!
Our point of view: 1999’s “Neon Ballroom” is Silverchair’s “Revolver” in terms of a sound sonic progression that still keeps much of the band’s character, but is far more complex, and, dare we say it, adult. Gasp! Do you feel the same? Regardless, said puberty maturation changes completely make sense as the band were literally not old enough to register for the American military during the release of their previous two albums, but could now legally harm foreigners like all members of the Fab Four. Fun fact: The actual pianist who inspired “Shine,” David Helfgott, for lack of a better word, absolutely freaking shines on “Emotion Sickness” in a haunting and powerful fashion. Don’t Geoffrey Rush through this LP, do not pass go, do not collect $1999 Australian dollars, and please build it up in the year 2023.
After all these years, 2002’s “Diorama” still holds up, and is the band’s “Pet Sounds.” Bold posit? Yes. True? Well you don’t know the truth and Jack Nicholson’s iconic character in “A Few Good Men” knows! Anyway, The Beach Boys, and particularly Brian Wilson, would be honored that a post-grunge band not only also worked with Van Dyke Parks, but created a timeless album filled with a constant flow of good vibrations. Also, it doesn’t get mentioned enough that Silverchair absolutely crushed live, as evidenced by the epic tour on this LP’s album cycle. Still, wouldn’t it be nice if this record received as much love stateside as it did globally? Don’t answer that, as God only knows why. In closing, despite not spelling the word “favorite” with a “u,” it’s clear that a majority of U.S. Americans are idiots, and “Diorama” should have been much more revered here.
The problem with being a true original is when you do the same thing for 40 years, it comes off tired, even for a band known for their frantic high-energy style. Perhaps because it was a combination of unreleased tracks, including a dated song about Saddam Hussein three years after his death, but this album does not come together. The standout is their cover of Sublime’s “Date Rape.” They add gravitas and a much improved guitar solo to one of the dumbest songs from one of the dumbest bands ever. It’s not so much “their earlier stuff was better,” but they did the same things better earlier.
With a long-running band, members have a tendency to get frustrated and quit. Or in Fishbone’s case, quit, join a cult only to have another member try to rescue them and be brought up on kidnapping charges. Nevertheless, this album suffers from the loss of two key songwriters, Chris Dowd and Kendall Jones. Dowd’s departure is painful, but luckily the band still has one of the most charismatic frontmen of all time. Angelo Moore makes Mick Jagger and David Lee Roth look like a stack of bones bound with stringy hair. It’s no surprise he has writing credit on the album’s best two tracks. However, the production is muddled. With a funk influenced band, the bass is the star, and Norwood Fisher is one of the best, but the bass parts are buried! This is a bit of a concept album, but the concept is also completely muddled. The narrative, spread over multiple introductions, interludes, and jams, appears to be about how a space monkey’s genitals are free from corporate overlords.
Being innovators was the curse of Fishbone’s career. Album after album they blazed a new trail, only to be discarded by the market, while bands like the Red Hot Chili Peppers steal the playbook and replace their humorous and incisive lyrics with off-key “scabby-dooby California” nonsense. But in this case, the album of reggae, ska, and pop hooks came four years too late. They luckily released a best of compilation to stay top of mind with the ‘90s ska revival, but this could have been a hallmark of third wave ska, with the bass lead reggae groove combined with vaudeville jokes in the Suffering. This album is notable for the variety of guest musicians – Gwen Stefani, George Clinton, the aforementioned RHCP (thankfully only the talented members), and Donnie Osmond, but the album is strictly for friends and fans.
Sophomore releases either stay the course or make a drastic change in their sound, but Fishbone went deeper. Not only musically by adding soul and jazz influences to their ska/funk/rock/reggae/new wave repertoire, but also as a personal exploration of the environment that produced them. Though it’s far from the best track on this album, but if you want to impress people with your knowledge of trivia, tell them “Turn The Other Way” was the original song playing on John Cusack‘s boombox in “Say Anything,” so be prepared to be carried out of the room with a crowd of people chanting your name.
This album is noteworthy for two things: It is the last recording with the six original members, and it is HEAVY. The band does their usual exploration of genre and maturity of style, and even with everyone at the top of their game, the chunky guitar stands out as a giant step into a new world. In retrospect, the cracks in the foundation were starting to show, every member was given the spotlight, but that might have been a peacekeeping measure. The album starts with three metal songs that rock harder than anything on “Headbangers Ball,” before easing into the giddy pop-ska of “Unyielding Conditioning.” This is a stew where every ingredient shines, except the potatoes wanted to go solo and the onions were having a nervous breakdown.
This is Fishbone’s most ambitious and highest charting album, and it’s not hard to see why: the genre blending (and genre bending), the social commentary, the political fearlessness, the energy, the humor, and the musicianship were all presented in a flawless package. Each member plays multiple instruments, but keyboardist/trombonist/vocalist Chris Dowd shines on this outing as the ultimate utility player, getting featured as lead vocalist on a few tracks and proving that keyboards can rock. Shockingly, even the poetry interludes are impressive as Angelo Moore hints at his future controversial Dr. Madd Vibe persona. They pulled out all the stops, having Spike Lee direct their videos and hitting all the late night shows, but once again, being trailblazers hurt them. If released later in the ‘90s, the gospel-influenced “Everyday Sunshine” would have been a Clinton-era ska breakthrough, and “Fight The Youth” would be the lead track on the “Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater” soundtrack. They will have to live on as the t-shirt for every John Cusack character and as a band that can tour forever everywhere to a devoted fanbase.
On their second full-length release, Fishbone melded together as a group, as a band, and as a team. Everyone is absolutely at the top of their game from the songwriting to the bass lines, the horns licks, the harder edged guitar solos, and even the ad libs and yelps are on point. They showed how they can interpret a world of influences into their own sound by taking Curtis Mayfield’s classic “Freddy’s Dead” from a funky, mournful lament into a hard-driving cautionary tale. That is the essence of Fishbone: absorb sounds from everywhere, take a lifetime of socially conscious observations, mash it together and create something even better. And then include a song about boning in a boneyard.
As a rule, these rankings don’t include live albums, compilations, or EPs, but this is Fishbone’s best release. A six song EP contains two of the greatest ska songs ever written, and are guaranteed to win over the biggest ska skeptic. The album turns a cheerleader chant into an anti-Reagan anthem, a sci-fi tinged jam calling out radio stations by name, a pop nugget, a nuclear party epic, a bouncy anti-love song, and a scatalogical gem which debunks the conspiracy that the World War II attacks in Japan weren’t atomic bombs but Godzilla’s farts. The standout is “Lyin’ Ass Bitch,” a song which made headlines when the Roots played it as the entrance music for Republican ghoul Michele Bachman on Jimmy Fallon causing such an uproar that Fallon vowed to never to be political, funny, or interesting.