A pair of documentaries, both now available online, explore the explosion of punk rock in the ’90s, though each takes a dramatically different approach. Whereas “One Nine Nine Four” is heavy with interviews from some of punk rock’s biggest stars, “No Room for Rockstars” follows a group of mostly up and coming acts on 2010’s Warped Tour. The other major way in which the two films are different is that one of them is really good and the other one pretty lousy. They both, however, have Fletcher from Pennywise, so at least there’s that.

“No Room for Rockstars,” which was directed by Parris Patton, follows a group of acts on the Warped Tour, the long-running summer concert tour that helped put bands like No Doubt, Blink-182 and Fallout Boy on the map. However Patton isn’t interested in rockstars — as if the title alone wasn’t enough to give that away. He’s more interested in the experience of being on the tour, and especially from the perspective of the hard-working bands that haven’t yet broken through. Patton even follows a band from “nowhere” California called Forever Came Calling, who aren’t part of the tour, but who drive from show to show in their crappy van selling CDs outside the venues to anyone who will listen. The film also follows Never Shout Never, Mike Posner and the extreme metal of Suicide Silence. What the film offers, isn’t just a revealing look at the culture and goings-on behind-the-scenes at Warped, but an insightful look at the plight of working class bands. For all the fun that playing in front of thousands of kids can be, it isn’t an easy road, particularly if you’re trying to provide stability to a young family, as Mitch Lucker from Suicide Silence is. As well, the film never feels like a marketing vehicle for the tour. Though Patton has great access, we see both the humanity and the rampant consumerism. We also see both sides of Kevin Lyman, the tour’s founder. In one scene, he cooks lunch for the tour’s dozens of bus drivers, just one of many unsung populations that keep Warped running. And later, during a stressful battle with crummy weather, Lyman berates a tour manager who made the mistake of asking the wrong question at the wrong time. Perhaps part of the reason the film is able to keep its perspective on Warped is the fact that Patton wasn’t overly familiar with the tour before making the film, though the struggle of a young band can’t be entirely unlike the struggle of a young filmmaker. The film is available for rent or purchase via iTunes.

“One Nine Nine Four,” which, as its poster touts, documents the birth, growth and explosion of punk rock in the 90s, is narrated by Tony Hawk and features a who’s who of modern punk stars, including members of Green Day, Blink-182, The Offspring and Bad Religion. But despite the pedigree of the folks interviewed, there’s little to grab onto beyond the Q&As. As a film, director Jai Al-Attas, comes up way short. Not only is there almost no footage outside of his interviews to tie things together, even the interview segments aren’t particularly well photographed. For a PBS documentary, the all-talking heads approach can work, but for a subject as colorful as punk rock, Al-Attas really misses the mark by not including more outside content. Either the interview subjects didn’t give him adequate access, or he didn’t ask for it, but either way it would have nice to have experienced more from the many musicians featured than simply them sitting in a non-nondescript office or studio. There are a few videos and a few photos here and there, but it just didn’t seem the film was well-funded enough or well-produced enough to really due its topic justice. Even the narration is overly simplified and fans of the genre aren’t likely to learn anything they didn’t already know. It touches on important punk institutions like 924 Gilman and Lookout! Records, but not with any new insights or eye-opening revelations. In addition, beyond the band members, there are only a handful of other people included as interview subjects — and nobody who can put the movement into any kind of larger context. There are no sociologists included, no music historians. The film mostly feels like an excuse for Al-Attas to interview his favorite bands, and as such, comes off as little more than a nice compilation of interviews with notable ’90s punk acts. But as a piece of art, and as a film that seemed to have more lofty ambitions, it falls way short, which is too bad, since it’s a worthy topic and one that will likely be explored more thoroughly in the future. You can see the film on YouTube.

Strangely, both directors were on “Last Call with Carson Daly.” Here’s Parris Patton’s segment:

And here’s Jai Al-Attas, sort of:

Travis Barker from Blink-182 can be seen frequently wearing a cap, most often modified, with the bill bent upwards.

Trying to find a photo of Tom Morello without his ball cap on might make you want to Rage Against the Machine.

Fred Durst’s career with Limp Bizkit faded away as quickly as his hairline, but he’ll forever be associated with the red cap he sported during their heyday.

Somewhere up in rocker heaven, Pantera’s Dimebag Darrell has a serious collection of baseball caps.

Chad Smith from the Red Hot Chili Peppers is another guy that you almost never see without a baseball cap on his head. Or maybe that’s just how Will Ferrell disguises himself when he feels like playing drums.

Nothing goes with a one-piece bedazzled jumper like an orange trucker-style baseball cap. Just ask the King of Rock & Roll.

If the Hollywood Stars were a real baseball team, Little Richard would be their catcher.

Finally, Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones found an accessory for his head that de-emphasizes his lips.

Little Steven is usually the one member of Springsteen’s E Street band that gets to wear something on his head in public. Unless the boss feels like doing it too.

Neil Young likes his baseball caps like he likes his guitar solos: Classic and just a little fucked up.

John Fogerty may be one of rock & roll’s greatest songwriters, but there’s some bad fashion on the rise in this shot for sure.

What, you didn’t expect Elton John to just wear a normal ball cap did you?

Here’s Billy Joel in a New York Mets state of mind.

Hey look, it’s Neil Diamond on a baseball diamond.

Paul Simon may know of 50 ways to leave a lover, but there’s only way for him to sport a Yankees cap.

Let’s not forget Paul Simon’s one-time partner Art Garfunkel. OK fine, let’s.

You may be aware of David Crosby’s 1995 liver transplant, but you probably didn’t know the hospital threw in a free ball cap that day too. Let’s hope the new liver is fairing better than this hat.

After all those years in the sun, you can’t blame three-fifths of The Beach Boys for trading in their surfboards for ball caps.

A lot of people remember when Dylan went electric. Fewer remember when he went capped, which coincided with his stint in The Traveling Wilburys.

Speaking of the Wilburys, Tom Petty may have sung “you don’t have to live like a refugee,” but he proved he can dress like one from time to time.

Ron Asheton of The Stooges, seen here with Dave Grohl, was voted one of Rolling Stone’s greatest guitarists of all-time. He did not fair as well in a similar poll about fashion.

Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top tops his head with an Astros cap.

David Lee Roth may be reuniting with Van Halen, but he won’t be reuniting with his hair anytime soon, which likely explains this fashion faux pas.

James Hetfield of Metallica re-wrote the lyrics to the band’s first ballad after his bandmates rejected his original title: “Fade to Black Hat.”

The yellow stuff on the bill of Gene Simmons’ hat isn’t part of the design, its his dried boogers.

M*Muthaf’n Manson.

It’s hard to know if Axl Rose sported this hat ironically after his feud with the famous grunge band or if he actually liked their songs at one point.

He later sported a baseball cap over his bandana in Guns N’ Roses’ video for “Patience,” a concept fans got used to while waiting for “Chinese Democracy” to be released.

Though Slash usually sports a black top hat, when he sends it out for dry cleaning he has to occasionally gig with a black ball cap instead.

Joey Belladonna from Anthrax made his INJUN hat famous in the ’80s.

Kid Rock’s tank top choice says Rasta surfer while his hat choice says white trash.

This is Meatloaf. One of out of three ain’t bad.

Tommy used to work on the docks. He also used to wear a baseball cap like the one that Jon Bon Jovi is sporting below.

Little known fact: Bret Michaels is bald and the long blonde hair you see is actually sewn into the back of the bandanas and baseball hats he wears.

Tommy Lee’s wiener is so big he can actually wear that hat on it when its not on top of his head.

Geddy Lee of Rush plays “YYZ” in his C-A-P.

George Michael likes giving New Yorkers “yankees” as much as he likes the New York Yankees.

Here we see Madonna at Free Baby Day, which happens annually at Yankee Stadium.

Awe, it’s Morrissey in a baseball cap. Adorbs.

U2’s Bono still hasn’t found what he’s looking for. At least we hope he hasn’t.

When he wants to appear even more casual than in the black beanie he’s usually seen wearing, The Edge puts on a patterned ball cap.

After the births of Apple and Moses, Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin of Coldplay decided they would name their next child Ball Cap Martin.

“It’s the end of the world as we know it,” sings Michael Stipe on one of the band’s biggest hits. “And I feel like wearing a baseball cap.”

Billy Corgan of Smashing Pumpkins covers his pumpkin will an ill-fitting cap.

Trying not to draw attention to herself, Avril Lavigne wears the biggest, loudest baseball cap she can find.

Before he was in Fall Out Boy, Pete Wentz was the Dodgers’ bat boy.

Even a stylish baseball cap from punk rock supergroup OFF! can’t make Anthony Kiedis’ of the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ mustache more palatable.

Guess what number Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam wears on his baseball uniform: 10!

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When you think of punk rock collectibles, you probably conjure images of limited-edition Subhumans 7″s or screen-printed NOFX gig posters, but Clint Weiler, who runs a small punk rock toy company called Aggronautix, is hoping to change all that. For the last several years, he’s been releasing limited edition bobblehead dolls featuring a who’s who of punk icons, including GG Allin, Jello Biafra and Keith Morris. We sat down with the toymaker to get the scoop on how the dolls came to life — and how they get from idea to your display case.

Where did the idea to do punk rock bobblehead dolls come from?
My main gig is publicity for a company called MVD, and I’ve been doing that for over 10 years. MVD releases a lot of punk DVDs, vinyl and all sorts of stuff, so I’ve been working with bands like The Dwarves and The Meatmen and Merle Allin, who has the rights to all of GG’s stuff. So I’ve known these guys and I’ve done publicity for all of their projects. I’m a big punk fan and I like designer toys so I wanted to do some punk rock toys. Once I started researching it and saw how expensive it was to make vinyl stuff, I was like, “Alright, I guess I better just do bobbleheads for now because they’re cheaper.”

Most designer toys are made of vinyl then?
Yeah, those kind of anime-looking toys you see are all made out of vinyl. There’s a big vinyl underground toy collector thing. I talked to Dov Kelemer in L.A. who has a toy distributor called DKE, and he said he would carry the G.G. bobblehead if I made it, even though the [toy collecting] community isn’t into bobbleheads. But he liked the idea because it was like an anti-bobblehead. Normally, they’re athletes or movie starts or whatever, so that was the perfect one to start with.

Can you walk through the process of designing and getting one made? You have to get permission first, right? You can’t just make money off of someone’s likeness without asking.
Correct. After that’s all set, I have a team. A guy named Craig Holloway, who’s well-known in punk and hardcore circles, as THE guy that illustrates punk and hardcore stuff. He’s amazing. So I take the concept to him, with whatever photos I have and any ideas, and then I have him illustrate it. Or I get photos of the person in their actual position — if they’re alive — and then we develop it from there. But he’s the one who does all the initial illustrations. Often it’s based on an iconic photo or iconic look. It tends to be pretty easy most of the time. Like the GG for instance, there’s a whole bunch of different looks you could do, but the jockstrap was sort of the notorious one.

Do the initial illustrations have to be from a bunch of different angles or in 3-D or something?
It’s what they call a turnaround. You’ll have the front and the back and the sides so that the sculptor can sculpt it accurately from all angles. The sculptor sculpts the mold out of clay and all points of the process have to be approved by the artist or management too. So for every drawing, sculpt, sculpt with paint — all aspects of the design need to be approved. It’s a pretty long process. It can take a few weeks just for that. Then once everybody agrees on everything we start manufacturing it. It comes from China and it gets here probably six weeks or so after that barring any customs issues.

Why make them limited edition?
When something’s numbered and it’s limited it has more value, even though it’s a piece of plastic essentially. When something’s done it’s done. I’m not making more of them. For instance, the Milo from The Descendents doll sold out pretty quick, and people have been emailing me asking when I’m going to make more. But I’m not. I’m going to make a second version of it, but it’s going to be different.

Is it always the same number that you manufacture?
No, most of them are 1,000. The first GG I did was 2,000. I just did a Mojo Nixon that was 500 and that sold out in like a month, which was surprising to me, but he did a tour on it, which was kind of cool.

How do you decide who you’ll create a bobblehead for?
It’s just people I like. Right now I have a pretty good backlog of stuff I want to make, but I like to gauge it through Facebook. I’ll do polls to see who’s ranking higher. I like to do historical people mostly, people that are legendary in the punk realm.

Are there people you have tried to get that have said no?
Yeah, plenty. And some people just don’t even answer me.

Would you consider doing more modern punk icons like Fat Mike from NOFX, Tim Armstrong from Rancid or Billie Joe from Green Day?
I would. I was actually talking to NOFX about it. I did Andrew WK and he’s even more modern than NOFX. But I know him personally and he wanted something cool for the Warped Tour so we made that.

Do you think that you’ll expand your line to include other things?
For the punk rock market, if there is such a thing, the bobblehead pricing is right. The sculptor’s work isn’t cartoony and its pretty realistic. The heads aren’t oversized or anything. I like what’s going on with everything now but I would like to try a vinyl doll or something down the line.

Is there anybody else that makes punk rock toys? Haven’t The Ramones had dolls?
People have made Sex Pistols stuff — a company called Medicom made some awesome Misfits vinyl dolls that were super-limited. I have those fuckers. It took me forever to find them on eBay and they were expensive too. A company called Mecca in Jersey just did an Iggy Pop more realistic sculpture kind of Todd McFarlane-style thing.

How many different dolls have there been?
Handsome Dick Manitoba from The Dictators was number 14.

And how many are sold out? Original GG, second GG, Mojo and Milo – so four of ‘em. And Roky Erickson is getting ready to be sold out too.

Check out all the latest from Aggronautix on their website.

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Along with some notorious dictators and international terrorists that we were happy to see go, we lost a lot of people this year that we wish could have stayed on this mortal coil just a little bit longer. There were Hollywood icons (Elizabeth Taylor), rock & roll saxophonists (Clarence Clemons) and a few too many cast members from “Celebrity Rehab” (Jeff Conaway, Mike Starr). We lost that lady who stood next to Bob Dylan on his “Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan” album (Suze Rotolo), professional wrestler “Macho Man” Randy Savage bit into that giant Slim Jim in the sky at age 58, and Uncle Leo from “Seinfeld” (Len Lesser) said, “Jerry! Goodbye!” Here’s a look at some other notable people who passed away in 2011.

Chaz Bono
March 4, 1969 – March 10, 2011

Smokey Robinson
February 19, 1940 – July 12, 2011

Fat Joe
August 19, 1970 – May 29, 2011

Steve Wozniak
August 11, 1950 – April 8, 2011

Amy Winehouse
September 14, 1983 – July 23, 2011

Judd Hirsch
March 15, 1935 – November 20, 2011

Bam Margera
September 28, 1979 – September 27, 2011

Judd Nelson
November 28, 1959 – October 20, 2011

Judd Apatow
December 6, 1967 – January 13, 2011

In Memoriam: 2010 | 2009 | 2008 | 2007 | 2006 | 2005

2011 may not have been a banner year for album sales but that’s nothing new. And unless Elvis and Michael Jackson decide to collaborate posthumously on a rock opera about the life of Amy Winehouse, we’re not likely to see a record-breaking record sales year anytime soon. Having said that, it was a pretty good year for music, and there were plenty of releases that caught our attention, despite having only listened to a fraction of the music that came across our desks this year. Here are 20 of the releases we played the most, and usually, and joyfully, at excessively loud volumes.

Atlas Losing Group, “State of Unrest” | Melodic hardcore from Sweden that is at once powerful, political and philosophical. A raging album from start to finish.

Banner Pilot, “Heart Beats Pacific” | The Minnesota punks may not have expanded their sound on their third record, but they sure honed it on “Heart Beats Pacific,” a gruff and melodic pop-punk romp across the lonely landscapes of a Minneapolis winter with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in hand.

Blink 182, “Neighborhoods” | The once-potty-mouthed punks return with a record devoid of humor and severely lacking in Mark Hoppus songs, which basically makes this sound an Angels & Airwaves record, which isn’t a bad thing. But then there’s drummer Travis Barker, who elevates and expands the band’s songs and sound, planting them into your brain and hammering home the hooks.

Butch Walker and the Black Widows, “The Spade” | The pop producer and songwriter behind hits for Avril, Pink and Panic! At the Disco, put together a new band and a new record, giving us the second best power-pop record of 2011.

Chixdiggit, “Safeways Here We Come” | Canadian Ramones-core geeks Chixdiggit gave us seven new songs in 2011, and though we’d have rather had a full-length, we happily gorged on this EP filled with goofy yet charming pop-punk.

Dan Andriano in the Emergency Room, “Hurricane Season” | The first solo outing from the bass player of The Alkaline Trio doesn’t rock as hard as his main project but retains the melancholy melodies that make the Alkaline Trio great.

Dawes, “Nothing Is Wrong” | This record may have been released in 2011 but it sounds more like an early ’70s Jackson Browne record, like the kind of tunes coming out of L.A.’s Laurel Canyon during that decade, which likely explains why Robbie Robertson hired the group to double as his backing band. “Nothing Is Wrong” is hot licks, rich harmonies and soulful pop-rock tunes.

Fountains of Wayne, “Sky Full of Holes” | They may not be the most prolific band on Earth, but their records are always worth the wait, and their latest is no exception, a smart, tongue-in-cheek power-pop record, and the best current band at writing this kind of material.

Frank Turner, “England Keep My Bones” | Like Billy Bragg channeling Bruce Springsteen, Turner’s latest long-player is his best yet. This has folk music tradition with a living, beating, punk rock heart.

Frenzal Rhomb, “Smoko at the Pet Food Factory” | Though these Australian punks have been off the radar for the past few years, they returned with a vengeance this year with the blistering “Smoko.” The lyrics may be inane, but the songs are catchy as hell and just the right recipe for blasting airs off a half-pipe or barreling down the slopes on a snowboard.

Fucked Up, “David Comes to Life” | If Fucked Up revived the concept record in 2011, Lou Reed and Metallica may have slayed it once and for all, but don’t let that keep you away from the third record by these Toronto punks, a story told in four acts about the romance between a light bulb factory employee and an activist in 1970’s and ’80s England.

Mike Doughty, “Yes and Also Yes” | His syncopated rhythms and pop hooks alone would be a blissful combination all by their lonesome, but throw in some smart lyrics as well and you’re left with one of the best pop-rock records of the year. With each excellent record Doughty puts out, the ghost of Soul Coughing fades deeper into the fog.

Smoking Popes, “This Is Only a Test” | It may not have been the record we hoped for from this reunited Chicago quartet — a concept record told from the perspective of a high school student. But hell, it was a new full-length from the Smoking Popes, and at least they challenged themselves, even if the results weren’t as successful as we hoped.

Social Distortion, “Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes” | They take forever making records, especially for a band whose rarely use more than a few chords in a song, but at least when Social D does put out a new LP, it’s always solid, and “Hard Times” is no different. It’s as good as anything in the band’s catalog.

Teenage Bottlerocket, “Mutilate Me” 7″ | This release includes just two new songs from the band plus a Bad Religion cover, but the title track is a pop-punk gem, and one of our most played tracks for the year, elevating this three-song seven-inch to must-have status on the strength of that song alone.

The Copyrights, “North Sentinel Island” | There was no better three-chord Ramones-core record this year than the fifth full-length from Carbondale, Illinois’ Copyrights, whose sing-along choruses make the real North Sentinel Island in the Bay of Bengal seem like one of the happiest places on the planet.

The Lonely Forest, “Arrows” | When the Lonely Forest are at their best they are nearly unstoppable. That’s the good news. The bad news is that on their third full-length, and first for Chris Walla’s Atlantic imprint, the band misses more than they hit. Even still, half the album is amazing, bringing to mind bands like Jimmy Eat World and Sunny Day Real Estate at the most majestic, and overshadowing the less interesting pieces of the record.

They Might Be Giants, “Join Us” | Taking a break from writing kids songs to make another record for grown-ups, rock’s quirkiest duo are as witty and wonderful as ever on their fifteenth LP, which includes several classic TMBG tunes, like “When Will You Die,” easily the year’s best kiss off song.

Thrice, “Major/Minor” | At times heavy, at others delicate, Thrice continue to expand their musical boundaries on their latest album, an epic rock adventure that finds the band at the top of their game.

Unwritten Law, “Swan” | Always on the verge of breaking through but never quite fully doing so during their heyday, the venerable San Diego punk band, who returned after six years away, may have had better luck breaking through if they’d released this album in 2001 instead of 2011, perhaps the best record of their career.

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Aaron Nagle, Untied

Audrey Kawasaki, Lovesongs

Geoffrey Chadsey, Grinder

Derek Gores, Too Busy Fascinating

Jim Heimann, Spring Break

Jonathan Weiner, Yevgeniya

Mu Pan, Mermaid

Janice Urnstein Weissman, Untitled

Eric White, Here (After Albers)

Craig LaRotunda, Feast of the Undead

Danni Shinya Luo, Weakling

Jason Shawn Alexander, Jessica

Ray Abeyta, Amor Perdido

Shawn Barber, Portrait of the Artist, Jo Harrison

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The idea of being a yuppie punk is a lot like being a punk rock dad, which is the subject of “The Other F Word,” a documentary from filmmaker Andrea Blaugrund Nevins, about the mindfuck that ensues when a punk rock lifestyle is interrupted by parenthood. A group of punk luminaries, including Jim Lindberg of Pennywise, Bret Gurewitz from Bad Religion and Fat Mike of NOFX, wax philosophic about the difficulties of balancing their day jobs with their night jobs. Rebellion and fatherhood don’t exactly go hand in tattooed hand after all, and neither does the life of the touring musician, as evidenced by Lindberg’s grueling schedule, whose journey is the centerpiece of the film, and who wrote a book, “Punk Rock Dad,” on which the film was inspired. You can read our interview with Lindberg about that book here.

Though the film fails to be all that illuminating about either punk rock or fatherhood, it is still an entertaining film with a good punk soundtrack. There are a handful of touching moments, like Lars from Rancid with his son at a San Francisco playground and the sight of Flea fighting back tears as he talks about his daughter, but the gist of the film is that most punks had shitty dads and that touring makes having a family really hard. Well, duh.

What the film doesn’t touch on are the wives and children of the punk rock dads that are profiled, which seems like a major oversight. We learn that the life of a touring punk is a struggle for the dads, but we never hear anything from the rest of the families. Though there are brief sound bites from a few of the kids, the moms are sidelined completely, despite the sacrifices they have to make so their husbands can earn their keep on the road. There are also no parenting professionals featured in the film, nobody who can offer any insight into what having a frequently absent father might mean for these kids. Or even better, why not talk to some grown-up kids who have gone through a similar experience and can speak to its ramifications? The movie shows us Ron Reyes from Black Flag’s kids, who are teenagers, but Reyes quit Black Flag when his oldest was an infant so the experience was never the same for them. But there are plenty of rock stars, and presumably punk stars, who have kids old enough to shed some light here. It’s hard to imagine Morgan Spurlock, one of the film’s producers, offering up as unbalanced a view in one of his films, which are equally entertaining but generally more substantive. Without this secondary material, the film feels thin and inconsequential. Though it is frequently funny, and at times touching, it ultimately feels more like an extended episode of MTV’s “True Life” than a fully-developed and well-rounded documentary.

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Of “Lulu,” his already infamous collaboration with Metallica, Lou Reed said, “It’s maybe the best thing done by anyone, ever. It could create another planetary system. I’m not joking, and I’m not being egotistical.” Critics wholeheartedly disagreed, panning the record nearly universally, turning it into a punchline, and becoming the prime example of a collaboration that could sound intriguing on paper but excruciating on record. Despite the admiration many critics offered for its purely artistic motivations, journalists couldn’t help but take a whack at “Lulu” like a danging piñata. Here are some highlights.

Rolling Stone: “Revels in dominatrix decadence and bodily fluids.”

Pitchfork: “For most of the record, Lou Reed and Metallica barely sound like they’re on the same planet, let alone in the same room.”

Chuck Klosterman: “If the Red Hot Chili Peppers acoustically covered the 12 worst Primus songs for Starbucks, it would still be (slightly) better than this.”

Washington Post: “An 85-minute misery delivery system.”

LA Times: “This morning when I woke up knowing that the entire day would be spent listening to the thing, I sighed, rolled over and went back to sleep.”

AV Club: “Like an iceberg deciding to start a band with the Titanic.”

The Quietus: “Time that could be more constructively spent watching the grass grow or perhaps wanking into a sock.”

Chicago Sun-Times: “The marriage of Reed’s thin, monotone voice to Metallica’s thick, monotone riffs — and an average song length of nearly nine minutes (including a 19-minute punishment at the end) — produces a listening experience that is never anything more than a dismal, grueling chore.”

Consequence of Sound: “It reads like a misguided Bukowski impersonation and sounds like field recordings taken from Guitar Centers across America.”

Pop Matters: “They let us down harder than the last episode of Seinfeld. Except far fewer people will forgive Metallica.”

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Snowfall, the Midwest and disappointment, these are the themes of Banner Pilot’s third LP, “Heart Beats Pacific” (Fat Wreck Chords), a gruff and melodic pop-punk romp across the lonely landscapes of a Minneapolis winter with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in hand. As with their last outing, 2009’s “Collapser,” there are few surprises to be found. The album’s 11 songs synthesize the band’s influences nicely, with Jawbreaker (we dare you to find a review of this band that doesn’t mention them), the Alkaline Trio and Lawrence Arms coming through loudest, and singer-guitarist Nick Johnson’s sandpaper vocals on top of a dual-guitar blast. Predictable? Sure, but also really solid. “Heart Beats Pacific” is the sound of a band hitting their stride.

Much of the album is filled with songs about relationship woes, like “Alchemy,” the album’s roaring opener. “I’ll say everything’ll work out,” Johnson sings, “Like I know what I’m talking about. But all this snow keeps piling up. We dig, it’s never deep enough.” The band is adept at capturing the cold and lonely isolation that a Midwest winter can bring, and disenchantment cuts a straight line through the album’s lyrics, though there are some bright spots too. On “Spanish Reds,” the album’s best track, our narrator finds some silver lining thanks to some time spent with his favorite girl: “I watch you fall asleep on a dead end street and the world is right somehow.”

The band cites Screeching Weasel and the Queers as influences, and though Banner Pilot aren’t practitioners of Ramones-core, they do borrow from the aforementioned bands. For starters, there aren’t any guitar solos, but the album has ample guitar leads, single-string Ben Weasel-style licks that help to add some color and break up all the furious strumming. Also like those bands, Banner Pilot sticks with a formula that works for them, never veering far off course. This causes the album to drag a bit as it winds its way into side two, but the record closes out strong with “Division Street,” a mid-tempo pop-punk love song that ends the record on a high, which is where Johnson is at too. “If I’ve had better days,” he offers, “Then they’re hard to remember.”

Somewhere over the course of the last ten years, the bands who extrapolated a sound made famous by Jawbreaker, a west coast band, have reclaimed the style as Midwestern punk. Banner Pilot, a band from Minneapolis, is a prime example of the sound, which is also favored by Dillinger Four, The Lawrence Arms and probably plenty of other bands who aren’t on Fat Wreck Chords. But one of the things that made Jawbreaker great was their ability to experiment. “Dear You” may have signaled the beginning of the end for the band, but it was a stylistic departure and a bold move, one that Banner Pilot should take note of. It’s risky, of course, to wander too far from home, but it’d also be nice to read a Banner Pilot review that didn’t reference Jawbreaker in the first paragraph. “Heart Beats Pacific” stands firm in its mission, and Banner Pilot have established themselves as one of the Midwest most promising bands, but as they continue to evolve, we hope they’ll also begin to challenge themselves as songwriters. Jawbreaker didn’t make the leap until LP number four. And since this is number three for Banner Pilot, we’ll let them slide — for now.

Banner Pilot – “Spanish Reds”

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Aside from the free street parking we scored (woot!), the best thing about Monday’s Bumbershoot, which was much less crowded than the previous day, was the shorter lines for deep-fried Twinkies. While we didn’t have any (we’re fat enough, thank you very much), the fried foodstuff is the lifeblood of any self-respecting festivalgoer. Need a boost after a mellow set from Sharon Van Etten? Deep-fried Twinkie! Want to try and get as big as Big Boi? Twinkie! Want to be more than just a “Maneater” during Hall & Oates’ set? Be a Twinkie eater! Here are some highlights from our day:

My Goodness are like the White Stripes, only they’re all dudes instead of just half dudes.

We took in a few groovy acoustic songs from Olympia, Washington’s LAKE, who could paddle across one using their bass player’s hat.

Fitz and the Tantrums played some seriously soulful rock & roll in the KEXP music lounge before having a contest to see which band member could open their mouth the widest. For the record, Fitz lost to his co-singer Noelle Scaggs.

Stacy Dupree is one of the five Duprees in Eisley: There’s also a Chauntelle, a Sherri, a Weston and a Garron.

You should have seen what YACHT singer Claire Evans did with the microphone after she was done cuddling with it. Let’s just say it involved 10 hands, two drumsticks and lots and lots of applause.

These are the guitar faces of Ian Moore, who played a rockin’ set with his band the Lossy Coils. For the record, we make the same faces while pooping.

Sharon Van Etten’s soul-baring songs were a highlight of the day. Suggestion: She should consider starting the Vans, featuring Van Morrison, Eddie Van Halen and Van Dyke Parks. Actually, that band sounds kind of amazing.

Vendetta Red were Vendetta Rad, blasting through most of their best songs from their two major label records, “Between the Never and the Now” and “Sisters of the Red Death.”

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