10.09.2013

Ten Band Names

The time has come. This blog post topic is one I have been toying with abstractly ever since I started buying music as a little guy. A topic I have undoubtedly had casual social arguments over, but never well-researched debates. 15-year-old Travis Reyes is very proud right now.

A band's name seems to be fairly arbitrary. As long as the songs are there, the band name will be secondary to the music. Great music will make the band name seem great. I.e., Nirvana. An iconic name. "Nirvana" is a Buddhist word for the ideal human condition of rest, harmony, stability, and joy. So, "Happiness?" I suppose happiness is a very complicated concept, which gives "Nirvana" some credibility. Overall, though, it seems like a vaguely cliched name for a band. But I've never heard anyone complain about it. My intended take-away from this paragraph: the name doesn't make the band. 

Except when it does. The purpose of this blog post is to argue that when all else is equal, a great band name is what pushes a band over top. This is mostly an exercise in psychology. Actual band names are not something you are likely thinking deeply about when searching for new music/developing your opinion on a band. But, it is a stroke of creative genius when a band has an unforgettable name. 


SIDE NOTE: This is a top 10 band names list, rendering rappers ineligible; they have terrible names anyway. 

I am a human and not a robot blogger. So, it is inherently difficult to ignore my biases for what constitutes a great band name. Thanks to Cognitive Dissonance Theory (I AM A PSYCHOLOGY MAJOR), the more I like the band, the more inclined I am to believe the band name is cool. This list is a challenge in objectivity for me. It is important (for myself) to remember: this list is in no way a reflection of my "top 10 favorite bands of all time." It is a challenge I am willing to accept. 

IMPORTANT: all bands listed are part of my personal music collection. If you have any suggestions for bands I left out, want to give me a round of applause, or have qualms about my selections, I implore you to leave a comment with your stance. I changed the settings on the comment section so that anyone, even those without a Google plus account, could leave their opinions. Anonymously. So, feel free to be as crude as your heart desires. You will be safe forever in anonymity. 

Finally, the criteria. An obvious criterion is that the band name sounds cool and rolls off the tongue. Other criteria I will be employing based off of my personal preferences: snappiness/brevity; quirkiness/weirdness; creativity; strength; irony; and most importantly, badass-ness.     

Honorable Mentions (in alphabetical order): Bear vs. Shark, The Bronx, Cold War Kids, Dead Kennedys, Pixies, Queens of the Stone Age, Single Mothers, Title Fight, Weezer. 

10. Glassjaw 
It just sounds gruff. I love that it's one word, two syllables and that there's a "j" jumping out in the middle of it. I used to see the band name on t-shirts at shows long before I knew who the band were or what they sounded like. I felt kind of jealous that people were listening to a band called "Glassjaw" and I wasn't. Also, a multifaceted band name: dissection of "Glassjaw" implies a level of vulnerability below the surface. As in, this jaw is easy to shatter. They've got a sensitive side.

   
9. Ceremony  
Another one-word gem. Beauty in its simplicity: it's an actual, singular word of the English language. "Ceremony" has always conjured up something strangely sinister for me, even though the word itself is inherently neutral. I can't imagine "Ceremony" being the namesake for anything but an antagonistic hardcore band.   



8. Heavy Heavy Low Low 
A truly subjective favorite of mine. I have no idea what it refers to. I have no idea why the words "Heavy" and "Low" are paired together. Not exactly opposites, but surely not synonyms. It is utterly mystifying to me. I feel like it is implying something dark, but slightly playful. I do know that the band were a bunch of fucking weirdos who played very polarizing, spastic music. I assume the name was an inside joke of some sort. Which I only wish I could be a part of. I also know that their run ended far too soon, I only had the pleasure of seeing them twice (I apologize for the humblebrag). RIP.


  
7. Bane 
I guess hardcore bands know a thing or three about great band names. There is certainly a genre-related theme here. This name does not relate to the Batman villain, at least to my knowledge (nerds). Although I only have one album of theirs, The Note, which is a posi- hardcore shout-along masterpiece, "Bane" has always just screamed back at me when I see it. Whether in print or on a zip-up hoody, I've always just seen "BANE!," in a shouted voice just like the bands' vocals. Also, as far as I'm concerned, it implies you are the bane of their existence. It doesn't more hardcore than that. 



6. The Smiths 
Hardcore streak over! Yes, the world's most renowned depressed-hipster band. I hate Morrissey a lot of the time, but that doesn't mean his band name isn't iconic. Another beautifully simplistic name, most likely a nod to the universal most-common-surname-in-the-world title. It just sounds timeless and cool, probably in spite of it being such a common name. "The Smiths" sound like the headliner at a huge music festival. Maybe because they often are...?



5. The Blood Brothers 
A member of my "all-time favorite bands" short list. Before I had ever heard them I remember reading about them in mid- 2000's issues of Alternative Press, wishing I knew them and understood what it was like to listen to a post-hardcore band called "The Blood Brothers." Badass, alliteration, sinister undertones; it sounds like the name of a gang. Unrelated note: their musical aggression and creativity still blows every other band out of the water. I was more heartbroken when I had heard that they broke up in 2007 than I've been with any band before or since. RIP. 



4. Minor Threat 
There might not be a more dangerous-sounding band name. Maybe it's because I just imagine them performing in the early 80's and think about how edgy their music and message were. Nonetheless, I can't imagine a more perfectly ironic band name. They claim to be just a "minor" threat as they were breaking down the walls of bro-hardcore and spearheading a straight edge movement. Both "minor" and "threat" are cool words on their own. But to use "minor" as an adjective for a word as strong and sharp as "threat?" At the risk of overusing this powerful word...Timeless. 




3. Andrew Jackson Jihad 
Poetic genius. A semi-obscure president coupled with a relatively obscure word of the English language that has very emotional connotations to some, not to mention a little alliteration thrown in there. I am a sucker for each one of those things. The ironic fact that the band is made up of just two people, and usually just one during live performances, adds to the mystique and greatness of the name. Equal parts clever, funny, and badass. 



2. Man Man 
It seems like I mention Man Man in every one of my blog posts. For which I do not apologize. The name is absolutely hilarious. It is extremely fun to say. Take the most basic of nouns, man, and just repeat it. It's almost as if the first man is an adjective. Or perhaps it's the stutter of a bro trying to address another male casually. The concept of any word being repeated in a band name is genius to me. And I literally can not think of a word worthier of repetition. I wish I came up with the name myself. They are another band of complete weirdos that I wish I could hang out with for the purpose of having the types of conversations that lead to naming your band "Man Man." 



1. Fucked Up
No band's sound has grown on me like Fucked Up. Upon reading up on them initially, around the time their album The Chemistry of Common Life was released, I really wanted to get into them. Mainly because of the band name. A band name you couldn't name-drop in front of your grandparents. A band name that couldn't be printed without a couple asterisks (asterix?) in mainstream press. The band's shorthand abbreviation: FU. The end-all be all in badass band names. "Fucked Up" evokes such strong imagery; it is symbolic of rock-bottom. Of the extreme. A secondary reason I wanted them to be my new favorite band: per the review, their musical edginess seemed only to be a close second to the edginess of their moniker. I could get on board with that. I live to seek out music on the creative fringes which still maintains great songwriting. Fucked Up seemed to be just what the doctor ordered. 

One  catch: I hated the music. The singer's voice was unbearable. Their sound just didn't make sense to me. Kind of punk, with a simultaneous bright/jagged edge to it. It was unpleasant. 

SIDE NOTE: Pop music grabs you right away; you can't stop listening to it. Ready-made for immediate consumption. But in most cases, pop's lack of substance rears its ugly head sooner rather than later. I can testify that if this was actually a blog post dedicated to my top 50 least favorite songs of all time, 50 of them would be pop songs. Upon repeated listening, the sugar coating of some pop songs just give you a goddamn toothache. (This paragraph is entitled "The Ironic Cycle of Pop.") Exhibit A for me: New Found  Glory's Sticks and Stones. First time I heard it I was sure it was destined to become one of my all-time faves. Now I can't get through track five without getting nauseous from all the nasality. 

Fucked Up has had the effect of pop music in reverse. For some reason I convinced myself to purchase The Chemistry of Common Life on CD in the summer of 2010. I feel like it was on sale for $6.99. Nothing to lose, right? I still hated it. I even took it out of the proverbial starting lineup: my massive, 250+ strong CD booklet, and just left it in its jewel case for a while. In early fall of that year, at the beginning of my senior year at UConn, I decided to give them one last chance. Started listening to them late at night, quietly, in my headphones. And something clicked. Started listening to them Thursday nights, after a couple of drinks. Their momentum was building. Building, but gradually. I can say with conviction that each time I listen to Chemistry, even now, I like it a little more than I did the last time. It's not my favorite album of all time, but it may have crept its way into the top 20. I can now say that it is genius in its anti-pop catchiness. And I give it my highest recommendation to any reader that wants to get into something challenging musically. Like me, there's a good chance you might hate it at first. But if you give it time to grow, your patience will be handsomely rewarded. 


Fucked Up
Recently I finally came around to buying another Fucked Up album (they have three full-lengths). It was their latest, the critically acclaimed David Comes to Life, a preposterous 18-track, hour-and-seventeen minute journey. When it was released in 2011, I was starting to feel pretty good about Fucked Up and gave a listen to a couple of the new songs. Hated it again. Didn't give it another shot until last month, when I saw The Chemistry of Common Life on the shelf at one of Kate's professor's house. (Yes.) It helped me recall just how rewarding my previous Fucked Up album journey had been. Then I saw a used copy of David Comes to Life at Guestroom Records here in Norman. Nothing to lose, right? Well, the album is incredibly long. Tough to digest in one sitting. All the songs have a strangely bright, similar feel to them. Definitely didn't compare to Chemistry. I had a pretty lukewarm feeling about it overall. But last week I could feel it starting to click for me. I put the album on and tried my best to turn off my critical ear. And I realized I was starting to straight-up enjoy it. I can't wait to see where David takes me. The first proper track off David Comes to Life:          


And while I'm at it I should probably get my hands on Fucked Up's entire discography. They once played a twelve-hour (!) show in New York City, at one point with guest vocals from Ezra Koenig of fucking Vampire Weekend. Two bands I (now) love that seemingly have exactly zero things in common. Read: Fucked Up is incredible.  

Thank you for reading these words.  

5 comments:

  1. The Smiths! What a curveball.
    Hey, you are not a psychology major. You have a psychology degree!

    ReplyDelete
  2. hehe thank you for the ENDORSEMENT!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Um... I believe some honorable mentions are in order: Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen? Method of Destruction? The Flaming Ballsacks?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ... and thank you for hating Morrissey.

      Delete
    2. hahaha Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen sounds like the title of an Atari game. Without investigating, Method of Destruction can't be anything but an 80's grind-metal band, right? The Flaming Ballsacks is definitely something the singer of my high school punk cover band threw around in my basement as our potential band name.

      Morrissey is probably upset that his band isn't number one on this blog.

      Delete