AMARILLO, Texas — Local bassist Garson Plumporthos of touring drum and bass duo Chappie’s Return is reportedly seething with envy over the fact that his amp always seems to ride in the car’s front seat, anonymous sources confirmed.
“I know it sounds like I’m whining, but I just haven’t been allowed to ride shotgun this whole stupid tour. I’m so sick of being relegated to the backseat like I’m being toted off to soccer practice. And don’t get me started on the smug air of self-satisfaction that amp has been giving off, woof!” said Plumporthos. “Plus, it’s my gear! Why don’t I have any say where it goes? I swear, I’ll go acoustic if that means I could get up there. I’ll ruin my whole reputation just to put my feet up on that dashboard and have access to the center console cup holder.”
Drummer Woody Li feigned objectivity when it comes to the placement of gear in the car.
“Look, it just so happens that I have a better rapport with the amp over the one I have with what’s-his-ass. It’s as simple as that. He shouldn’t take it personally, and he certainly shouldn’t go around accusing me of passive-aggression,” said a calm Li, from the driver’s seat of his Subaru. “It just so happens that his amp is a better navigator, music selector, and FRIEND. Not to mention, it doesn’t ask me to pull over every time it sees a rest stop. That’s all.”
Renowned couples therapist Hale Fortner has been brought on to monitor the band’s brewing rage.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say the animosity is dormant. It’s on full display. Clearly, they have lots and lots of work to do when it comes to one-on-one communication and vehicular seating etiquette. Unfortunately, that exact negative energy really brings a powerful passion and vibrancy to their live shows,” said Fortner. “So their label has contacted me to ensure that the hostility remains between them, so the kids that have come to see them have a good time and buy their records. Healing is greatly needed, in my professional opinion, but it’s something that can always be done once all their t-shirts have been sold.”
Soon after their next gig, Li purported to have a great time with the merch boxes, and had Plumporthos demoted even further back to the trunk.
While the Menzingers have never made a bad record, this one falls to the bottom because the rest of their discography is so strong. “Hello Exile” is incredibly well-made and there are some true hits that fit right in with the rest of the Menzingers touring setlist. That said, a lot of tracks don’t feel original enough make this album feel distinct. Even the highlights sound like when your friend corners you at a party to tell you a story you’ve heard a million times already.
This is a solid debut record. It has the seeds of what they would later cultivate over the next decade of their career: genuine heart, a penchant for literary references, and bright melodies. It’s all there, even if it’s a little unrefined. The entire record sounds like someone threw a huge party at their parents’ house–every lyric is a hoarse yell and the guitars and drums feel like they’re shaking the floor and knocking family heirlooms off the mantle. It ages very quickly because that level of frantic energy is difficult to hold on to. It’s similar to Minor Threat and Operation Ivy’s music in the sense that it could ONLY be created by young kids having a blast making music with their friends. It’s hard to not be charmed by that.
The turning point album. Things are beginning to click for the Menzingers on this album as they grow into a key participant in the Philly DIY scene. The screamed lyrics and wild energy are still present but they’re slowly beginning to use those elements to forge their brand of melodic punk.
Any worthwhile EP will cover everything a band is able to do in 5-6 six songs, and this is no exception. This Red Scare Industries release boasts some of the best tracks in the early half of the Menzinger’s career, so I’d be remiss to not at least address it. It packs so many Menzingers tropes it feels like you’re running down a checklist–an almost too sincere singalong chorus? Check. A loveable ripoff of Bruce Springsteen? Check. Self-medication with alcohol? Check. Alright boys, we’ve got ourselves an EP!
When “Rented World” was released, the Menzingers found themselves in the falling into trap door of being in a successful punk band: while they had finally gained a larger, devoted audience, the demands of touring all over the world were depleting them financially and emotionally. This record still has the same hopeless romanticism that was perfected in “Impossible Past,’ but they spit venom on some of these tracks. “I Don’t Wanna Be an Asshole Anymore” alone is a triumphant songwriting achievement. This single track is responsible for thousands of twentysomethings experiencing their first-ever moment of self-reflection.
Everything the Menzingers had been trying to express thematically and lyrically is in here with perfect melodies. Stories about unrequited love, shame, drinking, and fucking up are captured in picture-perfect clarity. If you’re 23 and hearing this for the first time after a breakup, I’m so happy for you but so sad for everyone else in your life who must now hear you talk about this album nonstop. The only reason this is #2 instead of #1 is that there have been similar masterpieces about nostalgia and romance written by other bands (cough cough Gaslight Anthem cough cough). These have always been powerful driving forces for the band, but the best Menzingers album was able to break through the rose-colored glasses with a harsh kick in the face from reality.
The fear of aging is palpable, especially working in a genre whose high water marks were made by literal teenagers. The Menzingers used this anxiety to fuel their best work with a simple question: Where are we gonna go now that our 20s are over? They answer with their most visceral, gut-wrenchingly honest lyrics about the guilt of years lost to drinking and touring which instantly connected with their audience, who lost years to drinking and following the Menzingers on tour. The timing of this release was perfect, as their main demographic was also getting older, but without any of the perks of being a rockstar. The sheer existential dread on this record also produced some of their best lyricism. They feel more motivated to preserve precious, hyper-specific moments in time. These aren’t as shiny as the ones in Impossible Past but it’s more important to draw attention to them given “After the Party’s” far bleaker context.
Knowing now what we didn’t know back in 1999, it’s fair to say that although this album is not without its charm, it’s the weakest in the discography. If you’re familiar with the band’s canon, you’ll recognize Nate’s signature Telecaster shimmer, Stacy’s reliably crunchy and intricate bass work, and the other Nate’s expertly syncopated drums. This album came out when they were like 15 years old, so it evokes that feeling you get when you break curfew and your mom’s boyfriend keeps bumming your cigs. But still, this album has a charming aggression to it that only comes with youth.
“Possibilities and Maybes” is technically not canon, but it’s a memorable album of B-sides that comes with strong recommendation. There’s previously unheard of stuff from their first three albums. There are demos and remixes. They even do a faithful cover of “Synchronicity II” by The Police, which is actually easier to listen to than the original version because you don’t have to think about Sting edging himself into an explosive climax with a feather duster.
For a while it seemed like The Casket Lottery was done, but they surprised us with this banger ten years after the release of the career-defining “Survival is for Cowards.” We’re met with an older, and wiser Casket Lottery after everybody went off to play in Coalesce, Able Baker Fox, and the Appleseed Cast. In other words, there was room for growth and reformation. In 2002, we had The Casket Lottery. In 2012, we had The Casket Lottery, but with synth. It’s like having your existential dread cake, and eating it while listening to The Cure.
“Short Songs for End Times” picks up where “Real Fear” left off, but is an overall more consistent album. Though The Casket Lottery has been known to tread lightly into math-rock territory, this release is their most straight-forward album to date; the drums chop, the bass rips, and the guitars paint a rich tapestry of texture only to drape it over the entire backdrop. The expertly placed peaks and valleys on this album make for a solid front-to-back listen, and Nathan’s powerful vocal presence sounds like he finally found the right combination of antihistamines.
There’s a whole other band out there called Able Baker Fox, and they boast the same lineup that can be found on the “Small Brown Bike And The Casket Lottery” split-EP. This EP, and the two subsequent Able Baker Fox albums that were birthed by it, has members from both bands playing together in what could be described as the ultimate supergroup that nobody’s ever heard of. It’s hard to tell where The Casket Lottery ends and Small Brown Bike begins, but we promise you that you’ll look really sad while walking over the iced over grass as the underneath you breaks like glass, or something. You honestly can’t go wrong with this one.
“Moving Mountains” is a younger, more experimental Casket Lottery in top form. The entire thing sounds the way it feels when you fall asleep on your arms until they get all tingly, but then you immediately pick up your guitar before you get the feeling back in your hands and try writing a song. That was supposed to be a compliment. Rhythmically, the staggering structure makes “Moving Mountains” sound disjointed in a way that’s intentional, and the whole album has a strange, yet infectious jiggle to it that’s hard to not be interested by.
“Survival Is for Cowards” is The Casket Lottery’s most straightforward pre-hiatus album, and shows you a clear logical progression in sound from the two albums that preceded it. Every song has its own subtle rhythmic complexity to it, but it’s also the most easily accessible iteration of The Casket Lottery, melodically speaking. Every song will vaguely remind you of really cold rain, and your dead uncle when you listen to that one song.
If Adam “Atom” Goren “And His Package” released this extremely unique and fun album as a split with former Long Island ska icon and current hipster messiah Dan Deacon six years after this came out, The Package’s irreverent brand of dork-punk would likely be headlining Coachella right now. But he didn’t. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Redefining Music” may not contain Adam’s best song “Punk Rock Academy,” but what’s a more punk rock song title than “If You Own the Washington Redskins You’re a Cock”?
Most people who use the word “punk” in a non-condescending manner may not know this album, but a lot of their favorite aggressive bands that describe themselves with adjectives such as “gruff,” “crusty,” “grimey,” and “stinky” sure do! If you like saccharine melodies with offly rough yet sincerely endearing vocals, this thirteen-song Dillinger Four album clocking in at just under thirty-two minutes is for you! If not, why the hell are you here? Seriously. Get out.
Arizona is known more for not-so-casual racism than it is for the band Doll Skin, but we’d love to change that. The group released one lone album for Hopeless Records that likely got lost in the shuffle for whatever reason, and sadly, that’s what they call show business. Still, this talented group found a way to incorporate elements of nearly every single genre on Warped Tour in a tasteful fashion, but you messed everything up for the/your skin by not tuning in when the band was still around. Mark my words.
We still find it strange that this band just didn’t get a fair shake, and we’re not making the best of it. In the mid-2010s it seemed that Baltimore’s Have Mercy was a blogger nerd’s wet dream that he selfishly wanted to keep to himself and his perpetually soiled blanket. Gross. Despite the crazy buzz surrounding this band, they honestly walked so other more inferior acts could run. We’re not going to name names, but YOU can in the comments! Anyway, releasing three records for Hopeless, this 2017 effort seemed to stifle the band’s momentum despite being eleven stupendous songs front-to-back. Disagree?
Brain food: Fans of irritable bowel syndrome, Courtney Love’s gritty “Live Through This”-era Hole vocals, expansive and expensive veneers, and early-90s fuzzy distortion pedals would love, love, love England’s Milk Teeth and this particular LP’s blue and orange album cover. As you know, and this is admittedly low hanging fruit with a ‘orrible accent, the UK isn’t exactly known for dentistry, but it should be for this grungy powerhouse of a group. Innit. Like you did with Doll Skin and several acts yet to be mentioned below, you broke this band up too! Selfish! Check this one out and get a clue, vile child.
We hear that there’s a fourth wave of ska going on right now, but fuck that, let’s get back to the third one, which had a creatively solid yet super short run in the 1990s! (Miss) Michigan’s own Mustard Plug put out one of the best ska-punk records under the radar in 1997, and in a weird twist of fate got some public hate from the curiously and questionably tatted lead singer of the now and forever defunct Kara’s Flowers. Google. This LP rivals the Atom And His Package album above for the most smiley record listed in this piece regardless of whether or not you’re living in a box. Spin it and go, you!
The online chatter about this band was very strong with their self-released and all lowercase single “i’m gonna tell my therapist on you.” However, we wish that more people knew about this twelve-track debut album from the second of two Baltimore bands to be mentioned here, Pinkshift, which packs a punch so damn hard your shift will turn pink. Yeah. This is the most recent Hopeless Records release to be highlighted here, proving that we are current, cool, and hip. Here’s to the band’s next LP, dreamer!
It’s a strong, baller, and curious move to have the same album title as the Beatles but Queens is filled with weird, weird people; next stop Jamaica. Sylar’s “Help!” is the second of two records listed here with an exclamation point, and it makes sense given the fact that it contains a lot of yelling. In addition, the band has a nu-metal sound, aesthetic, vibe and a bright yellow jacket. If this record came out in 2000, Sylar may have been playing co-headlining gigs with (Hed)PE but sadly (or happily depending upon who is reading), nu-metal fashion is way more popular now than the modern bands who emulate such. Maintain closure.
Sometimes tried-and-true accessible radio rock isn’t actually on mainstream radio and that’s quite a shame for this Orlando five-piece, which executed catchiness and musicianship in an incredible fashion. However, the band achieved SOME mainstream success, as There For Tomorrow won an MTVU “Woodie” award, which is not a joke, form of hyperbole, or a monster fib about the actual juvenile word “woodie”; the fact that this was an award name is more appalling than a root canal procedure gone awry. Back to the band, TFT had a solid fan base but it wasn’t enough to keep ‘em around much more than yesterday, and certainly not today or tomorrow.
We’re going out with confidence for this tenth and last entry: You crazy, crazy non-conformists may have dismissed this band as just another pop-punk act when their debut 2016 album came out, but you goofed with confidence. This band may have released the best and most undeniable song you’ve never heard from the 2020s with its farewell self-titled LP’s opening track “What You Make It” with confidence. It’s a sugary and Weezer-y pop-rock jam that will infect your head for the better, and cause your post-Ozempic body to shake shake Senora with confidence. Honestly, this album would be listed here if it was that same infectious song repeated nine more times verbatim, but the remaining tracks deserve some public love or ANYTHING as well with confidence.