There was a period in the early-to-mid-’90s when radio stations and record labels alike started getting frisky. Grunge had exploded into the mainstream, pop-punk was on the rise, and the suits were willing to gamble a bit more than usual, reaching well outside their comfort zones on the chance that they could be the ones to capitalize on the next Nirvana or the next Green Day.

The stage was set for the rise of “alternative rock,” a phrase that, at the time, described a certain type of music that was both somewhat arty and rather catchy — but generally not as hard-edged and garage-y as the term is used today. (Think R.E.M. as opposed to, say, The White Stripes.)

I honestly don’t know if Belly would have been given a chance at any other time. Sure, the band was good-looking enough for MTV, and they wrote some very catchy songs. But they wrote lots of very offbeat songs, too; and singer Tanya Donelly’s quirky, allusive lyrics and breathy, baby-doll voice were a pretty significant departure from even the more non-traditional pop that was hitting the airwaves around the same time. Continue reading →

I remember the first time I heard Bad Religion. My old drummer (now a celebrity for a completely different reason) had been given a copy of 1991′s Generator. He was the guy I got new music from, you know? You probably have someone like that in your life, the person who’s always saying “hey, you should check out this band.”

Anyway, we were standing in his bedroom after practice when he put on this CD. I was probably 17 or 18, and had been spending most of the recent years listening to Rush and Metallica. But after a long run with metal and prog-rock I was starting to get a little tired of the complexity, the inaccessibility. Don’t get me wrong, I go through my prog-rock and metal moods still, but I was getting worn out. But I never really thought I’d get into punk rock; most of what I’d heard up to that point was just too damn simplistic for my tastes.

But then there came Generator, and those harmonies. My god, the harmonies. The second verse in the title track came on and I stopped dead. It was heavy, but also melodic. I had no idea such things were allowed. Continue reading →

Coheed and Cambria is a very odd band. Very. Odd. I mean, how else do you describe a band whose entire repertoire is a series of interconnected concept albums? Based on a science-fiction story created by the singer? And released out of sequential order?

How else do you describe a band who actually named one of their albums “Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV, Volume One: From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness“? I mean, what do you even do with that?

And that’s not even mentioning singer Claudio Sanchez’s shockingly high, pure singing voice (he’s a dead ringer for Geddy Lee, though the band claims Rush was never an influence) or Mansonesque super-fro. That’s not even mentioning song titles like “The Velorium Camper II: Backend Of Forever.” Or, well, “A Favor House Atlantic.”

So, odd? Yes. But holy damn do these guys make some amazing music. Continue reading →

A big part of what I want to do here is help you fine people find new music to love. See, I consume music like other people consume air, which means that my music discovery process tends to run sort of like this: 1. Hear song that moves me. 2. Buy album it’s on. 3. Listen to nothing else for two weeks. 4. Get burned out on it. 5. Begin searching feverishly for something new.

So I’m basically always on the prowl for both new music and new places to find new music, if you catch my meaning. And so, I figure if there’s any way I can help other people like me get their fix, well, it’s a moral imperative.

Which brings us to the first-ever Plastic Axe Deep Cut: “Kids in America” by The Muffs, which you can find on the Rock Band 2 disc. Continue reading →