BOSTON – Bernie Callahan, ex-guitarist for local hardcore band Scald, is now performing with objectively horrendous bar rock band Tough N’ Stuff and thoroughly enjoying himself, sources feeling betrayed report.
“I’m pretty sure that Steve from Woeful is going to absolutely drag me as soon as he sees this, but that’s fine,” said Callahan while learning how to play Lit’s “My Own Worst Enemy.” “But he doesn’t understand I’m finally playing music people actually enjoy. People say ‘nice set’ to me and actually mean it. Not to mention I just got paid twice as much as that band made last year combined, and I get to go to bed before midnight. Not to mention I’ve been able to cut back my therapy sessions to twice a month. That’s just more money in the bank.”
Local promoter Claudine Osbourse allegedly saw Callahan smiling for the first time in 12 years while playing “uninspired” covers of The Rolling Stones and Santana.
“I can barely believe it’s the same guy,” said Osborne while sulkily smoking a cigarette. “He used to be in the most pissed off hardcore band I’ve ever seen. And whenever he got off stage he was even worse, just absolutely furious every show that not enough people showed up or moshed hard enough. But when he got to do the background vocals for that AC/DC cover the other night, that was probably the first time I have ever seen him legitimately enjoying himself. I think I’m proud of him?”
While most are voicing their support for Callahan’s decision to prioritize his own mental health, some have criticized the guitarist’s musical 180.
“The guy is just torpedoing his career,” said local music critic Carlene Gibbs. “With this new band, there is absolutely no way he will ever gain any influence or notoriety beyond his local community. But if he had stuck with Scald for another seven or so years, he would have had a chance to reach upwards of sixty people in four or five counties. We’ve lost an entire generation of perhaps a dozen resentful and unfulfilled musicians who would have started as their base. No question.”
At press time, Callahan has reportedly gotten laid after a gig for the first time in his musical career.
Sophomore albums are always difficult to pull off. Joyce Manor could’ve been the exception to that rule had our fact-checkers not reminded us that “Never Hungover Again” was actually their third album. We didn’t forget about this one entirely — it’s just hard to remember that this is a canonical Joyce Manor album and not just a 13-minute compilation of promising demos. For what it’s worth, there are some great tracks here. They just don’t feel like they’re part of anything bigger than themselves. Even Napalm Death songs make better use of their brief runtimes.
Now this is a great compilation of promising demos. Featuring rough drafts of fan favorites like “Constant Nothing” and “Leather Jacket” alongside fast-paced punk tracks that would have felt out of place on a proper studio album, it’s an insightful look into the band’s early years. Every track radiates charmingly chaotic energy, from frenetic acoustic opener “House Warning Party” to the freshly remastered “Constant Nothing” EP songs that close this out. Most importantly, it reminds fans that Joyce Manor formed in Torrance, California, so you can gently correct anyone who calls them midwest emo.
This is still a good album — a fun album, even — but something holds it back from being a great Joyce Manor album. Maybe it’s the missed opportunity of naming the title track after a Travis Barker quote, knowing damn well your band needs a drummer, and nevertheless getting somebody else for the job. Or maybe the band held back on punkier tracks due to their stance against stage diving. Whatever the deal is, it’s decent enough to replay with a drink or two.
Clocking in at 24 minutes, this is Joyce Manor’s most bloated release to date. Who do these guys think they are? Sleep? It’s technically even longer considering how many times you have to pause tracks when your friends can’t hear the gentle production over your pathetic cries. Luckily, saccharine-sweet melodies and gentle acoustic performances justify every second of this album’s length. Just don’t expect the mellower sound to distract you from your own existential dread.
Opening your first album in four years with two covers is a risky move, but it pays off here thanks to Joyce Manor’s renditions of O.M.D. classic “Souvenir” and obscure Joyce Manor single “NBTSA.” The original material is just as exciting thanks to the anthemic choruses and rapid pacing reminiscent of the band’s first three records. Each track makes the most of its brief runtime with euphoric production and joyful energy. Joyce Manor is back and they still haven’t made a bad song.
This is Joyce Manor’s greatest hits album. It’s not a compilation, but almost all of their most essential songs are here. Play the CD in your car for a friend and they’ll become a fan within 20 minutes. If you’re lucky enough to get stuck in traffic, move on to the other albums and roll the windows down. Or just play this for the whole ride and pretend you’re in a coming-of-age indie film. Either way, you can never go wrong with “Falling In Love Again” or “Catalina Fight Song,” even if you scream the wrong lyrics.
The band’s self-titled debut is an emo masterpiece. It would’ve been a solid legacy on its own had they pulled an Operation Ivy and dipped after one album, but we’re lucky enough to live in a society where Joyce Manor continues blessing everyone with new music every few years — good music, even! That being said, Barry Johnson’s raw vocals and heartwrenching narratives still make this album a cut above the rest. A good debut feels like the beginning of something great. Joyce Manor skipped straight to legendary territory.
It’s ok to like this album, but if this is anywhere near your favorite Strokes record you are officially required to burn that Urban Outfitters band tee you’re wearing and attend an actual show. Past Strokes albums have been defined by the band’s consistency and signature thinned-out sound, but this time around an array of diverse production techniques and synths has buried the band’s real charm in much less thoughtful noise than listeners are used to. The record starts out as a spiritual successor to 2011’s “Angles,” with its bouncy synths and experimental elements, but ultimately delivers a less enjoyable experience. Like a third cup of tea made with the same leaves, this one will leave you feeling unfulfilled.
Fresh off a lengthy hiatus, “Angles” sought to introduce a fresh new take on the band’s iconic sound by immediately going back in time 30 years. “Angles” sees the Strokes coming out of their hibernation sounding a lot like Minus The Bear for some reason and admittedly it works, at times… Despite a strong start, “Angles” quickly loses the plot as it descends into full ‘80s synth nostalgia where speculation of drum machine usage from their early days became reality. Fans and the band alike don’t seem to care for this one too much, seeing how it’s been largely absent for tour setlists.
Picking up where their debut left off, “Room on Fire” has some definite heat, with iconic songs like “Reptilia,” but to be honest a lot of this record could have been “Is This It” B-sides. “Room on Fire” is still beloved, and for good reason, but like an old friend that shows up to a party empty-handed, it’s predictably good company with a few shortcomings. Some people will call this album 1B to their debut’s 1A, but those people are stuck in the past and they know it.
Despite their longest break in releases to date, the band ultimately made the smart decision not to hang it up after “Comedown Machine,” henceforth referred to as “Letdown Machine.” In fact, “The New Abnormal” is the comeback album “Angles” wishes it was–giving the band’s second chapter something sturdy to stand on. But, like “Star Wars” before it, the second trilogy will never live up to the original. The band teamed up with legendary producer, the famously homeless-looking Rick Ruben, to capture an extremely well-put-together album that is equal parts nostalgic and modern with some fun self-referential moments to boot. We love this record because it essentially puts the prior two through rigorous distillation to produce one of their most palatable releases to date. Despite coming out in the darkest months of a pandemic, this record is a summer-y, beach-rock Strokes record if the band could ever have one. There are some melodies that border on annoying and childish, but overall this is a fun one that old-school and new-era Strokes fans can easily appreciate.
Dialing back the compression a little and driving up the tempos and distortion, this record takes what The Strokes do well and pours a 16oz coffee right down its throat. Tracks like “You Only Live Once” bring their classic sound in its highest form before yoloing (sorry) into some of their heaviest tracks ever recorded. “First Impressions of Earth” led to many discoveries including the popularity of the Arctic Monkeys, Julian Casabalanca’s solo career, and the band’s first Billboard Hot 100 hit with “Juicebox.” But despite the record’s notable energy boost, the center cuts actually drag a bit. The aptly titled “15 Minutes” sort of feels like it, and at nearly an hour in length, the album’s runtime is double that of the band’s other releases. Fortunately this is the only real criticism of the band’s most rock-centric album.
“Is This It” is a certified classic for a reason so we’re not going to sit here and risk crapping on it. The band struck gold with their debut release, delivering hit-after-hit and some of the genre’s most-iconic songs. Casual music fans will recognize 70% of these tracks–even if they mistakenly attribute one to some nineties one-hit wonder or The Killers. Hell, if a song from this album plays at a wedding everyone from your grandmother to your 5-year-old niece will legitimately “bop to it” and the only complaints will come from audiophiles and bedroom producers blathering on about telephone effects and envelope filters. Who invited them anyway? Like any good rock record, this one burst onto the scene unexpectedly and was the subject of not one, but TWO, scandals—leading to re-releases with alternate album art and the removal of “New York City Cops” from the tracklist following 9/11. All in a days work for this legendary piece of rock history.
Metalcore godfathers Converge have been pummeling audiences with their frenzied cacophony for over 30 years. If you haven’t lost a tooth in a Converge pit, can you even call yourself a Boston hardcore fan?
One of the early third-wave ska bands to crossover to mainstream success, the Bosstones would likely still be playing sold out shows to huge crowds if Dicky hadn’t broken up the band by being an anti-vax meatball.
Who knew that post punk needed live tape manipulation? No one, at the time—but the loops and delays added an integral layer of surreality to Mission of Burma’s innovative, baroque songwriting.
Apologies for lumping these guys together, but we’re tight on space, and these crucial OG Boston hardcore knuckleheads are peas in a pod.
Are there any two things that Boston loves more than hardcore and hockey? Slapshot got their hardcore chocolate in your hockey fan peanut butter and became legends in the process.
Cave In helped define metalcore, and then defied expectation by going all weird and proggy—and most surprisingly, they stayed good.
These guys came out of the womb pissed off, and their dark themes were a refreshing antidote to the Youth Crew-inspired positivity that was on the rise at the time. Even the most posi kid would find it hard to deny the catharsis of lines like “Fuck everyone I’ve ever known” when shit goes south.
We’re pretty sure Frank Black bought a private island based on “Where Is My Mind?” licensing alone. The reunited lineup has been chugging along for far longer now than their first run as a band, Deal or no Deal.
Siege’s global influence on grindcore is pretty astounding considering the original lineup only produced 20 minutes of recorded material. Four more songs were recorded in 1991 with Anal Cunt’s Seth Putnam on vocals (just mentioning this because we wanted to include Anal Cunt somewhere).
We were abducted by the NSA for discussing Isis shows at the Middle East nightclub online. It was worth the enhanced interrogations because these post-rock metal titans ruled. Now we’re pretty good friends with our kidnappers—though that might just be Stockholm Syndrome.
Despite only putting out two full-lengths, these straight edge heavy hitters had a huge impact on hardcore. They broke up too soon, but thankfully, a couple of the guys went on to form the awesome Fiddlehead.
If you’re of a certain age, you’ve probably sobbed while holding a photo of your ex with “Into Your Arms” on repeat. While you may associate Lemonheads with fuzzy twee pop, their debut “Hate Your Friends” has serious Hüsker Dü energy.
We may be confused, but these are the guys that broke Batman’s back, right? Bane seems to be in an informal contest with The Who to see who can have more farewells and comebacks.
If there’s another Voyager mission, “I’m Shipping Up to Boston” will certainly be on the golden record they send into space to represent humanity. The song is so ubiquitous that Biden used it for walkout music, for Christ’s sake.
How’s this for influence? A young Fat Mike and his nascent band were such fans of Negative FX that they named their group NOFX in tribute.
The Freeze might be from Cape Cod, but their massively influential title track on 1982’s “This Is Boston, Not L.A.” comp cements their place on the Mount Rushmore of Boston punk. Singer Clif Hanger’s extralegal antics embody punk’s disregard for authority and personal safety possibly more than anyone else on this list.