Founded in Limerick, Ireland in 1989 and originally named “The Cranberry Saw Us” (get it, like Cranberry Sauce. Do you get it? But do you get it? It’s funny. Do you… DO YOU GET IT, THOUGH?) the Cranberries were formed by Niall Quinn, Mike and Noel Hogan and the wonderfully named Fergal Lawler.
After Quinn’s departure and replacement by our favorite “angry Irish woman,” the late, great Dolores O’Riordan, the band took up a new nom de geurre, “The Cranberries.” In their new four-piece outfit, the band quickly became one of Ireland’s most famous contributions to the world of music, with influences taken from classic rock, punk music, jangle pop, traditional Celtic music and even Gregorian chants, which were big in the ‘90s.
With lyrics ranging from the personal (love, loss, sexuality, and family) to the political (war, genocide, and the ever-troublesome Troubles), it’s not hard to see why the Cranberries have stood the test of time as one of the most endearing alt-rock bands. But how do their albums stack up with each other? Well, read on and see for yourself.
8. Roses (2012)
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.
Play it again: “Schizophrenic Playboy”
Skip it: “Waiting in Wathamstow”
7. To the Faithful Departed (1996)
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.
Play it again: “Free to Decide” and “When You’re Gone”
Skip it: “Salvation”
6. Something Else (2017)
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.
Play it again: “The Glory”
Skip it: “Rupture”
5. Wake Up And Smell the Coffee (2001)
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.
Play it again: “Never Grow Old”
Skip it: “Chocolate Brown”
4. In the End (2019)
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.
Play it again: “All Over Now”
Skip it: No skip album.
3. No Need to Argue (1994)
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.
Play it again: “Ode to My Family”
Skip it: “Dreaming My Dreams” unless you are trying to take a nap.
2. Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We? (1993)
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…
Play it again: “Sunday”
Skip it: No Skip Album
1. Bury the Hatchet (1999)
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.
Play it again: “Just My Imagination” and “Animal Instinct”
Skip It: No Skip Album
El Paso, Texas has more than meth, fam. Forming in 1994, the year that punk broke, Western Texas’ own At the Drive-In put its own original stamp on the aggressive music world with a frenetic and sweaty bang, winning fan-by-fan over with their extremely buck wild live show and oft-difficult to pronounce song titles. The band released two full-length albums and four EPs this century before its 2000 break-out LP “Relationship of Command,” imploding shortly after, reforming, breaking up again, coming back together, and finally going on a possibly permanent hiatus in 2018. That’s a lot of skips on the record, but we still spin The Mars Volta more than Sparta.
Drive Like Jehu is easily the least major-label sounding band to cut a record for a huge conglomerate group, and that’s post-hardcore as all get out; up the post-hardcores! Essentially a San Diego punk rock supergroup consisting of Mark Trombino on drums, John “Swami” Reis of Rocket from the Crypt on lead guitar, and more, Drive Like Jehu put its own angular stamp on the genre with 1994’s never-hated-upon-record-even-by-your-bitter-ass “Yank Crime.” It certainly is criminal behavior that this LP was the band’s swan song, and even sadder that another one will never come out; R.I.P. to DLJ and Hot Snakes vocalist Rick Froberg, who passed away earlier this year.
Real talk: Sacramento’s Far is tied for the most underrated band on any emo/post-hardcore list ever written along with the last band to be mentioned in this piece back and to the left. Scroll down any time that you want, Johnny! Anyway, forming in 1991, the year that grunge broke, Far released four LPs and one EP in the ‘90s to a lot of underground acclaim. However, despite the group releasing two of its albums on a major label, not many outside of the post-hardcore scene heard the group. 1998’s “Water & Solutions” is a masterpiece, and we don’t use that word unless we mean it; stop overusing superlatives, dweebs. In closing, Far created the ultimate post-hardcore blueprint record that sadly got an abundance of high praise a tad too late. Such is the system.
Rising from the ashes of ‘80s post-hardcore forefathers Rites of Spring and Embrace, the latter of which came from the legendary and incomparable Minor Threat, Washington, D.C.’s revered four-piece Fugazi formed in 1986, and released its first full-length in 1990. If you claim post-hardcore-DIY-till-you-die credibility, you’re obnoxious by trade and definition, but certainly know that it is illegal and punishable by hourly ridicule to spout a negative word about this band, and we are more than cool with such smug elitism and rigid rules for being a punk. Every single popular rock group that you truly, truly hate claims and namechecks Fugazi as a major influence in more ways than one, leading to the questions, “Why?” and “How?” Shut the door.
The band’s band Helmet formed in NYC in 1989, and released its first four critically acclaimed full-lengths in the ‘90s to modest sales and an ardently loyal fan base. Still, like pretty much all of the fifteen rock and roll groups on this here list, Helmet should be as large as its influence is, even if you despise some or all of the early-aughts rapping goons in white tank tops. If you’re reading this post-hardcore piece, you likely do, cool kid.
If you like a large side of atmospheric space with your generous ‘90s post-hardcore helping, then Champaign, Illinois’ Hum is for both you and Tom Hanks’ character in Apollo 13. The band reunited in 2020 for a record just after Covid took the airwaves, but released four albums from 1991-1998, the last two of which are classics to both hipsters and alternative rock heads. Although we hate the stupid, smelly, and just plain rude word “shoegaze” for more than fifteen reasons, Hum is a Mount Rushmore act in that immaturely named genre. Come home soon.
When the first of two bands listed here starting with “Jaw” known as Jawbox broke up, some of its members formed a band called Burning Airlines. There is a joke below about this clever statistic in the next section that is so witty, you are gonna plotz. Anyway, Washington, D.C.’s Jawbox released all four of its full-lengths in the 1990s to hardcore Dischord Record fans and major label rock heads, if the latter one is a thing. Jawbox had a strong influence amongst bands as well, as their catchy single “Savory” from 1994’s “For Your Own Special Sweetheart” was covered by the aforementioned Far and the-influenced-by-all-bands-listed-above-and- below-and-illegal-to-dislike Deftones. In a weird and unpredictable flex, the band played its first show since its 1997 breakup on “Late Night With Jimmy Fallon” in 2009 before splitting up again, and reforming ten years later. We’re still scratching our heads at that one.
When the second of two bands listed here starting with “Jaw” known as Jawbreaker broke up, one of its members formed a band called Jets to Brazil. Jets to Brazil. Burning Airlines. Jawbreaker. Jawbox. Coincidence? Possibly the largest band on this list, Jawbreaker released three independent record favorites before its final and most hated major label 1995 album “Dear You” pissed off punk rock fans more than The Offspring ever could. Proving that all things must pass, the same posers who scoffed at said record that broke up the band now sing its praises en masse. We see you, oysters. Who’s punk? What’s the score?
Like we mentioned in the intro, knowing our extremely intelligent and never critically off-base audience, all fifteen bands listed here suck ass and/or don’t fit the post-hardcore mold, in any way, shape, or form. However, this one may top the list of our questionable gaffes. Our bad. You’re good. Fugazi isn’t the only band listed here to rise from the ashes of a notable hardcore punk group, as Orange 9mm featured a former member of Burn, an underground cult favorite NYHC aggressive act. Also, Orange 9mm brought a different swag and groove to the sometimes uniform post-hardcore world, and it’s tragic that the band didn’t last that long. Plus, the band has a song called “Toilet”.
All hail Walter Schreifels from every single rock band that ever formed prior to and post-post-hardcore not listed here! You’re a gem. If you like Walter’s older act Gorilla Biscuits but wished that they were a tad more metal with a far less posi vocalist, then Quicksand is the act for you, but you already knew that! If not, why are you here? Not cool, bro(s). Anyway, acclaimed indie label Iodine Records recently repressed Quicksand’s debut major-label 1993 studio album “Slip” on vinyl and post-hardcores across the globe that likely don’t own a record player rejoiced. Head to wall.
Much like the Orange 9mm, the unintentionally listed number 9 act mentioned above, this might be a more polarizing entry due to its strong influence on nu-metal and other things you hate, but we don’t care: Refused rocks harder than you and you’re not as post-hardcore as you think you are, pleeb. Possibly the most revered album on this list, 1998’s “The Shape of Punk to Come” was an accurate and strong sonic statement, but the band didn’t get to taste the fruits of its collective labors as it disbanded later that very year. The fact that the group literally refused (low, low hanging fruit) to make new noise (even lower, lower hanging fruit) together again till 2012, fourteen years later, is a travesty. Go ahead, give yourself permission to scream, and watch the scene in 2004’s “Friday Night Lights” film that features “New Noise” if you don’t believe us.
For those of you who need a wallop of sensitivity with your rough-around-the-edges post-hardcore, then do we have the band for you: Sense Field. The word “sweet” doesn’t get justifiably mentioned enough with acts of this ilk, but Jon Bunch’s smooth vocals definitely provide some sugar and smiles to the regular aggressive music listener. Fiesta. Releasing three full-lengths in the ‘90s, the band didn’t have much commercial and radio success until the following decade with 2001’s “Save Yourself,” but the group broke up not too long after. This section of the article doesn’t contain much wit or humor as Bunch left this world in 2016. Thankfully, the band’s material got a new lease on life, especially 1996’s brilliant “Building,” which, in light of things, you should spin right now.
We’re wrong. This is a straight up punk band. Actually, you’re wrong. This is a post-hardcore act in a straight up punk world. Save it. Like the band mentioned in the last section and one yet-to-be-mentioned later, the power trio known as Shades Apart was an integral part of the highly influential Revelation Records roster. Try saying those last three words starting with “R” five times fast; spoiler alert: you can’t. Showing that the band is so much more than their rockin’ “Tainted Love” cover, spin the band’s final Revelation Records LP, 1997’s “Seeing Things” from beginning-to-end and immediately put on 1999’s Universal Records’ major label debut “Eyewitness” for all twelve tracks. Thank you, New Jersey! Thank you, New Jersey?
Listen to “In Utero”. If you don’t understand this reference, stop reading this right now and reevaluate your rock cred on Google just before shitting yourself. If you do, stop reading this article right now and book a session with Steve Albini to record your awful band, as he won’t take any royalties! Ready to move on? Good! Shellac’s 1994 LP “At Action Park” is a noisy post-hardcore album that is a solid combo of two acts referenced above, Drive Like Jehu and Quicksand. It is also quite similar to an early-90s trip to New Jersey’s dangerous and surprisingly popular Action Park; watch 2020’s painful and wtf-worthy documentary “Class Action Park” if you don’t believe us. Furthermore, the awesome trio known as Shellac should be called Shred-lac. Yeah.
Along with entry number three, the aforementioned (and a-far-mentioned) Far, the band known as Texas is the Reason should’ve been much, much bigger than the four-piece actually was. Sadly, the group released just one album before calling it a day one year after its release, and in a crazy twist of fate, the band was just about to sign with Capitol fucking Records for a follow-up (and more). How post-hardcore is that? Damn the man. To end this piece on an upper, 1996’s “Do You Know Who You Are?” is unquestionably (get it?) a perfect album from track one to nine, and is the highest selling LP on Revelation Records, every little girl’s dream.
Honestly, it’s tough picking the worst Cramps album. They’re so consistently the SAME that it’s a real chore to consider what’s the bottom of the barrel (or in their case, dynamite powderkeg) “Look Mom No Head” fills the role though, in just being the most “more of the same” offering they ever served up. But, there are positives: An Iggy Pop appearance on “Miniskirt Blues” is fun, where he trades snotty vocals with Interior like two kids on the playground. Poison Ivy really cooks on tracks like “Eyeballs in my Martini.” Lux livens up his standard yowy-growly vocals by sometimes sounding like a wayward Cookie Monster who requires his cookies with a side of hooch. But, overall this one’s as “computer, load up a Cramps album” as they come.
Hey, a middling Cramps album is still a Cramps album, damn it! “Fiends of Dope Island” is what ended up being the final Cramps record before the passing of Lux Interior, and it’s a credit to the group that they can still sound the same as ever after all those years. Convincingly aping juvenile delinquents while theoretically being able to use a senior citizen discount has gotta be difficult, but Lux and Ivy make it look easy. If you can ignore the lame ChatGPT-vibes cover art, this is a more-than-respectable final transmission from one of rock’s most enduring oddballs…but c’mon, we’re not going to put it above second-to-last place!
Recorded after a far-too-long label dispute, “A Date with Elvis” shows the Cramps’ interests turning from the trash-horror subject matter of their infancy, to the trash-sexploitation stuff that would guide them through the rest of their careers, as if they started hanging out with a different crowd in the summer break between elementary and middle school. Highlights this go-round are that we finally get to hear Poison Ivy sing a little bit (delightfully off-key) on “Kizmiaz” and “Get Off the Road,” and it’s interesting to see a real concerted emphasis on jacked-up country/western with songs like “Cornfed Dames.” But, unlike a real date with Elvis Presley, this unfortunately won’t leave you feeling quite as satisfied as a belly full of Monte Cristos.
Another batch of tunes that would make John Waters weep with trashy joy, “Big Beat From Badsville” proves yet again that the Cramps didn’t mess with their successful formula. With a tracklist that includes more animal songs than a Raffi concert (come to think of it, what a shame we never got a Cramps rendition of “Baby Beluga”) Badsville historically remains the only Cramps LP to consist of entirely original material. And for a band that clings to their covers more than a kid who thinks there’s a monster under the bed, we take our hats off to them!
An apt title to say the least, this one’s sick indeed! The last album with their incredibly stoic drummer Nick Knox, the Cramps burst down the door of the ‘90s full force with “Stay Sick!” The band is in absurdly fine form, with “God Damn Rock ‘n Roll” sounding like they’re snidely turning that one Bob Seger track upside down and dangling it over a highway overpass. Ivy’s production is appropriately ‘50s drenched, and she makes Interior sound exactly like he’s using exclusively those rectangular “crooner” style microphones the entire time. Good luck swallowing one of those, Lux!
Coming to the Cramps for nuance is like going to a pet store for airline tickets, and while their second album is light on variety (let’s face it, most Cramps albums are and we love them for it), it more than makes up in pure slimy style. Every track oozes effortlessly into the next one, proving you don’t need to play at a breakneck pace to break necks (you can break them from nodding “hell yeah” too much in this case.) Plus, it even doles out sage advice in the process…I mean, you really shouldn’t eat stuff off the sidewalk…Thanks, Lux ‘n Ivy!
It’s certainly apt that Flamejob is packed with its fair share of automotive songs, because it absolutely makes you want to crank up while hauling ass down the open highway. Incorporating some hauntingly faithful covers like “Strange Love,” and their take on “Route 66” that sounds uncannily like something you’d hear while being shuffled out of a dive bar at last call, with pint glasses sneakily tucked into your pockets. There’s just something about “Flamejob” that edges it over ‘Psychedelic Jungle,” and if you don’t agree, who cares – we’re already 30 miles down the road in a cloud of dust.
The Cramps burst (or, rather, slithered) onto the scene with this incredible collection of electrified sleaze that cemented them as punk mainstays. Inventing psychobilly seemingly without batting an eye, they throw the ultimate party with a guest list teeming with werewolves, zombies, sanitation trucks…the gang’s all here! Somehow they managed to dumb down a Sonics song even further, which is a salutable feat in anyone’s book. “Songs the Lord Taught Us” may have been named ironically, but if you ask us, there’s no question that this record is sent from heaven.
