Speaking of the DC post-hardcore scene…
One of the biggest death knells to a punk band is to be deemed a sell out. And in the 90s, when every record label in the world was signing every noisy band they could in hopes of finding the next Nirvana, the sharks came circling around Dischord Records. While Fugazi famously turned down a number of massive record deals, not everyone was as staunch in their business ethics.
When Jawbox entered into a deal with Atlantic Records, the punks were up in arms. But somehow, the two records released on Atlantic were unscathed by the corporitizing and sanitizing that came with selling out. Like For Your Own Special Sweetheart before it, their ’96 self-titled record is a cavalcade of jagged post-hardcore by one of the best to ever do it—major label or not.
When I was first getting into emo in 2001, we had fewer resources than we do today. Instead of social media and streaming services, we had message boards and P2P networks. And as I trudged the depths of the internet for more emo, I found three acts that every one of my favorite bands seemed to reference as influences: Sunny Day Real Estate, Fugazi, and Jawbox. I still don’t know why I didn’t chase down Jawbox as closely as the others—especially since “Savory” might have been my favorite song from any of them. I have each of the others’ full discographies on vinyl, as well as various side projects and solo releases. And yet, this is the second Jawbox record I’ve added to my collection.
And if I was still trying to figure out what it was that maybe turned me off to them, I can’t find any answers here. When it comes to the sort of post-hardcore I love (read: freeform guitars, angular drumming, powerful bass lines, shouty vocals, and strong choruses), I’m not sure there are many bands that do it as well as Jawbox. And while their self-titled might not have a singular monster hit like “Savory” on it (and lets be real, nothing else they wrote topped it), it offers one of the best pictures of what they did best. And considering that the band would get dropped from Atlantic after release and quit year later, it’s even more impressive that there were able to create such a powerful collection of songs.
My only gripe with this specific edition though is that the vinyl release omits the hidden track: an incredible cover of Tori Amos’ “Cornflake Girl.” And thinking about it more, finding that track so early in my Jawbox journey might have been what derailed me. For years, I would scan the back of every Jawbox CD I saw looking for it, but because I couldn’t find it (hidden track, durr), I passed. In any case, I’m glad that I know better now. I’ve just got a bunch of catching up to do.