From Nick P. at Black Sun Gazette
I wrote an article on my top ten hardcore bands a while ago. I took that article offline because I was a bit dissatisfied with it — both the list and the writing. So I’ve decided to rewrite it, but as two articles. The first, the one you are reading right now, is about classic American hardcore. The type of stuff covered in the film of the same name. These bands whet my appetite for fast songs, shaved heads, bad attitudes, and hate hate hate.
When you’re fifteen years old in 1994 the subtle beauty of The Clash don’t really appeal to you. Especially when half the bands on the radio sound like sub par Stiff Little Fingers. Add to that the idiotic peacocking that was de riguer in Boston punk rock around the time I was sniffing around and it’s easy to understand why I buried myself in the most stripped down, maladjusted rock and roll bands this side of Mayhem. I had bad hair, bad skin, a bad wardrobe, and bad taste in music. Where else was I going to go but hardcore?