Bad Religion Albums (15)
What The Critics Say
It's one thing for a band to merely manage to stay together for 20-plus years, but it's an entirely different thing altogether to effortlessly remain relevant and vital along the way. Bad Religion has already proved their skill, releasing solid albums every few years for a while now, and New Maps of Hell is no different. It finds that the guys don't just still have it, but they sound goddamn rejuvenated, bristling with electric energy and undeniable fervor -- their sharpness ultimately a testament to all the years playing together, especially in the complementary songwriting skills of Greg Graffin and Brett Gurewitz. Though their discography is already ripe with anthems, this entire record is a call to arms, where Bad Religion, still obviously discontented by much around them, urge the apathetic to finally take a stand. The band's richly textured, melodic hardcore arrives in full force, sweet vocal harmonies and crisp rhythms melding into invigorating track after invigorating track. "Requiem for Dissent" is overt, calling to "raise the rebel from his grave," while other songs further zero in on usual topics like the never-ending war, dissatisfaction, and government corruption. Even amid Graffin's normal dose of scholarly observations, it's the music that really stands tall. Cuts like "52 Seconds" and "Murder" are quick jolts of pounding hardcore to get one's blood boiling. Elsewhere, the urgent professions of "Heroes & Martyrs," "New Dark Ages," and the excellently layered "Dearly Beloved" effectively kick in with charging guitars and machine gun drumming, relying more on big and tuneful choruses to get the fists in the air. Even when the band veers a bit from the blueprint, it works, and the raw and dirty "Honest Goodbye" -- more like a '90s alternative rock song with emotion laid bare in Graffin's steady voice -- is an absolute standout. Leave it to the graying punk rockers to inject a much needed shot of adrenaline into the scene and show the kids how it's still done. ~ Corey Apar, All Music Guide
'The Empire Strikes First'
Release Date 6/7/2004
Tracks 14
Label Epitaph
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
In 2004, Bad Religion supplemented a magazine of reissues with one in the chamber called The Empire Strikes First. Given the state of affairs and activism of peers like NOFX's Fat Mike, it's natural for Greg Graffin, Brett Gurewitz, and company to point their measured seethe and trademark erudition against shady politics and policies of preemptive security. "We strike first and we're unrehearsed/Here we go again to stage the greatest show on heaven and earth," the title track rants. But Bad Religion was never just a catchy name, as "God's Love" illustrates yet again. And society doesn't get a pass, taken to task for ignorance in "Social Suicide" and suffered as the source of Graffin's profound cynicism in "To Another Abyss." So the band's as indignant as ever, and that's important. The punk-pop kids in the drive-thru and hanging out at half-pipes need to see the graybeards bringing the big issue pain train. But it helps if those issues are bound to strong melodies, and in this department Bad Religion doesn't disappoint. "Let Them Eat War" features a stinging lead guitar figure and the usual muscular chug; outsider rap poet Sage Francis makes an appearance in the middle. Opener "Overture" is a brooding instrumental, the sound of punk in a neutered Orwell future -- it bursts into a million pieces in the thrusting fists of "Sinister Rouge" and the aforementioned "Suicide." (Empire's lyrics are attended by footnotes -- including Orwell -- à la 1992's Generator.) Those BR harmonies rise and fall behind a pleadingly angry Graffin in "All There Is," and one of the band's three (!) guitarists adds a solo blister. Best might be "Los Angeles Is Burning," not surprisingly inspired by the California wildfires of 2003. "Palm trees are candles in the murder wind/So many lives are on the breeze even the stars are ill at ease" -- the track's as powerfully melodic as it is darn angry. The Empire Strikes First isn't a return to Bad Religion at its most vitriolic and unstoppable -- whether that could ever really happen is unclear, and probably unnecessary. Unnecessary, because Bad Religion is best when standing defiant in the way of whatever hate and shenanigans are currently inhabiting our collective psyche. Their tone doesn't change, but the battles are always changing. Watch out, evildoers -- Bad Religion is in your rear-view, and they're gaining. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
'The Process of Belief'
Release Date 1/21/2002
Tracks 14
Label Epitaph
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Based on only one or two listens to The Process of Belief, one would be tempted to retitle it The Process of Backsliding. It's like a batch of outtakes from their 1988 comeback LP, Suffer, or the amazing juggernauts that followed, No Control and Against the Grain. But successive immersions into the new LP's brute, lashing power and wild honey melodies disarms such critical impulses as efficiently as a martial arts master. Regression rarely feels this fresh or this welcome. For anyone who forgot how much had been absent without Brett Gurewitz, The Process of Belief radiates his singular seasoning in technicolor. First, with him back in the fold, Greg Graffin need only compose seven ace songs instead of 14 like the previous three LPs. A higher quality control results, as well as the rediscovered compliment of Gurewitz's searing tunes with Graffin's pop hooks. One also notes the lustrous sound of Gurewitz's backing vocals, once again meshed with Graffin's in the kind of familiar near-perfection that has signaled the best harmony teams: a sound so pleasing and comfortable it drives the chorus melodies and the "ooohs and ahhhs" much deeper, like a stake into the heart. Third is the more clearly-pointed edge of the band's attack, clearly captured by Gurewitz's bursting production. And once one gets used to the late-'80s feel and chalks it up to a pardonable retrench, there isn't a bad moment in The Process' 37 minutes. No sooner does one "supersonic" hook subside than another -- like the frantic, frenetic, kinetic "Prove It" -- relieves it. The old dog didn't need any new tricks, it just needed to race like a real greyhound again. The Process of Belief earns its hopeful title, and it's a short process towards complete and utter conviction. ~ Jack Rabid, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Todd Rundgren may seem like an odd choice of producer for Bad Religion, but as The New America illustrates, it was an inspired, even necessary, one for the veteran Californian punkers. Bad Religion painted themselves into a corner in the late '90s, adhering to the literate, hard-driving punk that marked their indie releases. That may have kept them pure, but as they grew older, they wound up repeating many of their musical ideas, while losing some of their focus. Rundgren blends his talents as a pop maverick and a vital hard rock producer on The New America, pushing Bad Religion to strengthen their melodies and hooks without losing their edge. Of course, if the record was just production, it would fall flat, but Bad Religion seems eager to embrace the challenge of making their tightest, tuneful record yet. Maybe some longtime fans will cringe at the big, powerful sound, the backing harmonies, or the catchy melodies, but these were all present on previous Bad Religion releases -- here, they're just presented with more focus. The focus, the careful production, and the group's solid, well-constructed songs result in one of the group's strongest records, while illustrating that the group can indeed grow old gracefully. And that's the most remarkable thing about The New America -- it is clearly the work of a band that's been around for nearly 20 years, but the experience hasn't worn them down, it's strengthened them. They've stayed true to their original vision while expanding its boundaries, which is something many veteran bands, regardless of genre, just can't do. Some credit may go to Rundgren, but the achievement really is Bad Religion's, not his. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Talk about a return to form. 1996's misproduced, flat-sounding, disappointing The Gray Race (a good LP for most bands but a poor one for Bad Religion) had both critics and fans wondering if this U.S. underground institution could prosper despite the loss of key guitarist BRETT GUREWITZ, who'd written half the songs on the first eight albums, as well as provided much of the essential attitude. (Gurewitz had left the quintet in 1994 following an argument with bassist JAY BENTLEY, allowing "Mr. Brett" to better concentrate on his about-to-explode Epitaph label, which Bad Religion launched prior to signing to Atlantic). Gurewitz's departure meant that singer GREG GRAFFIN was now left to compose all the songs himself. And though the real blame for The Gray Race must go to its producer, ex-CARS star RIC OCASEK (the material sounded so much better live!), who failed for the third time to adequately produce a punk LP (he botched two BAD BRAINS LPs a decade apart), a good half of the album also suffered from weak writing, implying Graffin was not up to the enlarged task. No need to think that any longer. Following on the heels of his first, sparkling solo LP, self-titled under the name AMERICAN LESION, No Substance makes two totally opposite, great Graffin-penned LPs written and recorded within the same year. He can and he will carry the band as a writer. And with material and production back up to snuff, the group is once more the most exciting punk band around, as they've been for a decade. In fact, since 1994's Stranger Than Fiction was certified gold in March, Bad Religion's momentum is back in all ways. Was Graffin distracted during The Gray Race by his divorce, the uprooting of his family and the self-critical upheaval it unleashed, so detailed in all its misery, anguish, anger, spite, and longing on American Lesion? Whatever the reason for this mass 1997 outpouring, he seems refreshed, refocused and sharp throughout No Substance. And perhaps his sad personal experiences piqued and spiked his outward-looking sociopolitical awareness, for there's an even bigger bug-in-his-rug this time. If you happen to miss it in the merciless disrelish of "Mediocre Minds" and "At the Mercy of the Imbeciles," it's spelled out in "The State of the End of the Millennium Address," a spoken-word litany of contemporary complaints swathed in sarcasm, forming a companion to "The Voice of God is Government" (from 1982's debut How Could Hell Be Any Worse?) with its flashback town-cry of "Neighbors!" Just as importantly, by 1) self-producing No Substance with engineers ALEX PERIALAS and the group's live soundman RONNIE KIMBALL, 2) doing much of the recording at ease in Graffin's fully-equipped Ithaca, NY home studio, Polypterus, and 3) hiring ace mixer CHRIS LORD-ALGE to make the final sound crunchy, Bad Religion restored the fiery assault from their older records and tours to back Graffin's lyrical daggers. Moreover, for the first time since 1993's Recipe For Hate, they've stopped worrying whether their fans are fretting now that they're on a major label, and have thus revisited the variety of tempos and styles that they'd finally attempted on that LP-after several albums before (and since) with a more narrow focus. Such expansiveness pays off here big-time. Significantly, Bad Religion pays tribute on No Substance to the more open-minded new wave era, to the less-rushed, late-'70s L.A. punk scene that inspired the band's formation there in 1980. The opening of the first track "Hear It" recreates the opening of THE ADOLESCENTS' 1980 classic "No Way"-fitting, since the two bands/friends opened several bills for each other at the opening of their careers. Likewise, the start of "Shades of Truth" xeroxes the start of THE U.K. SUBS' 1981 Diminished Responsibility single "Warhead." Similarly, guitarist GREG HETSON says hello to the band that helped his RED CROSS when he was 15, 1979 BLACK FLAG, by grabbing a smudge of their "No Values" for the music of "Mediocre Minds" (with a sprinkling of OHIO EXPRESS's 1968 #4 bubblegum hit "Yummy Yummy Yummy!"). Even '70s Classic Rock gets a nod when "The Biggest Killer in American History" burgles, for much better use, a riff from FOREIGNER's wretched 1978 #3 hit "Hot Blooded." But these homages merely form a cornerstone for the band's renewed vigilance. What first catches one's attention is the up-front urgency, the harrowing hunger, both in Graffin's aroused, soaring vocals, and even more so in the band's once-again thundering smolder. What a pleasure it is, as Graffin reaches, as if on vocal tip-toes, for the highest notes in the verses of "Shades of Truth," while Bentley pounds out the familiar chord sequence even more ferociously than The Subs' great ALVIN GIBBS did. (This song and the title track also contain distinctive, incredible three-part harmonies that continue to differentiate Bad Religion from the 900 inferior poppy-punk bands that germinated in the wake of their late '80s underground rise). And how about that 1966 Keith Moon impression drummer BOBBY SCHAYER whips out, frantically, on "All Fantastic Images," the LP's standout killer? Though it's subtle underneath the slamming guitar onslaught, '60s expert Schayer likely noted the Mod-influenced clap of power-chords that introduce the verses. Overall, freed by some of the less-frenzied tempos, Schayer steps out on this LP, his tom toms pounding like war drums. And even relative newcomer BRIAN BAKER, Gurewitz's replacement, gets more in the act this time, generating the chords for five of these 16 cuts; both his knockout "All Fantastic Images" and the bouncy "The Same Person" show the renewed benefit of a second writer, as Gurewitz did time and again. Mind you, Gurewitz's lyrics are still missed, but Graffin was always his equal, and appears prepared to grapple with the whole salami of fear and loathing, while hitting a string of intelligent targets with his warnings. Perhaps the triumph of style over substance is the obvious theme suggested by the LP's name (a vaguely-daring suggestion that the title does not refer to this LP!). But like Jello Biafra in the early Dead Kennedys, only without the parodying humor (but just as smart), there's a suspicion in each of these songs that as we congratulate ourselves on our social and technological progress, we struggle to beat down the inner voice that reminds us of the not-so-hidden costs of blinders. So much is thus addressed: the downside of the internet (another place to make people more passive?); the dangers in irresponsible science; confused children lost in single-parent promotion; the ever-more-pervasive bombardment of the senses by marketing and salesmanship (and infotainment, a true scourge!), anesthetizing our ability to think critically or even think at all; the dearth of soul and feeling in our popular feel-good culture; the encroachment of uptight-Puritanical, reactionary religious conservatives; and the endless lack of grace and thinly concealed foreboding/paranoia that comes from modern American twisted-ethic values that puts sex scandals over health care. It all seeps from the pores of No Substance, not only from Graffin's lyrics a
What The Critics Say
Culled from tapes of 60 concerts Bad Religion gave during 1996 on the Gray Race tour, the European-only Tested is a reasonably effective document of the group at the peak of their post-Brett Gurewitz power. Since the 27 tracks are taken from separate shows, the album never quite gains momentum like an actual live show, yet many of the individual moments (including three previously unrecorded songs) are excellent. Tested remains the province of dedicated collectors, but those fans will find it worthwhile. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'The Gray Race'
Release Date 2/22/1996
Tracks 15
Label Sony BMG Europe
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
It's a testament to a band that their weakest work is still this great. There's no question that the loss of guitarist Brett Gurewitz hurts the band. Gurewitz had a hot, edgy sound, and wrote half the songs, including all four singles off 1994's stunning Stranger Than Fiction. Losing such an awesome talent would cripple most groups. Fortunately, the other writer, extraordinary vocalist Greg Graffin, remains. He too has penned so many of Bad Religion's most memorable songs, and one can now add a bunch from Gray Race to this list. Moreover, this LP shows why it's an enormous relief this band survives and still prospers -- there's no better punk rock band in the world. Not even close. No one else can mix such high octane tunefulness, the most thought-provoking lyric sheet around, and Graffin's still ungodly, powerful voice. Hell, does anyone in America deliver better harmonies than this bunch? No! The standouts are the mid-tempo chuggers -- "Pity the Dead" is so catchy it hurts, with a knockdown bridge that stops the heart as Graffin strains for a dramatic high note. Likewise, "Spirit Shine" and the radio hit "A Walk" show the kind of melodic gifts a band should have to beg Lucifer for. The only reason Gray Race is even remotely weaker than their other LPs is because sympathetic producer Ric Ocasek (the Cars) smoothes out the firepower a tad. As well, without Gurewitz's half, a couple of songs seem so-so by past standards, and there's less variety. But make no mistake, Gray Race is one of the finest LPs any American band released in 1996; may they make records 'til the title of this LP refers to their hair. ~ Jack Rabid, All Music Guide
'Stranger Than Fiction'
Release Date 1/1/1994
Tracks 15
Label Atlantic
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
It seems that Bad Religion's eighth LP is a rare case of selling out in reverse. Having signed to the big bad major wolf ("what big teeth you have, Grandma Atlantic"), the bandmembers seem too intent on showing their fans they're not going wimpy, so they turn their back on the advances of Generator and Recipe for Hate in order to bring back the naked aggression. Stranger Than Fiction is back to the go-for-the-jugular stuff, pretending that the wonderful modifications and variety of their recent work never existed -- thus the qualms about this LP. It feels too regressive, a sort of pandering. That said, if they are going to go backwards, I for one am going with them -- there is still no one better at this stuff. The opening "Incomplete" features some of the most intense verse singing by the ever-soaring Greg Graffin, behind a muscular, punishing sound helped by guest guitar from the MC5's Wayne Kramer. Almost as storming in the same vein are philosophical songs such as "Leave Mine to Me," "Individual," "Tiny Voices," and the powerhouse "Marked," all uptempo barnburners, pulverizing in their rapid passion. The biggest gratification, though, is that a few songs do seem more in line with the maturity of the previous two LPs. "Handshake" is the album's summit, thanks to an oven-hot chorus and an outro-coda that has to rank among their ten best moments. "Slumber" is a slower show-stopper, with a pleading barrage of harmony vocals, while the title track builds on Generator's "Atomic Garden" with an unusual Beatles/Jam singsong melody. On the negative side, "Infected" into "Television" are the two least effective songs of their 15 years, the former a third-rate "Sanity," the latter bereft of hooks. In any case, it is not to be missed and it will haunt you in your sleep. ~ Jack Rabid, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Punk veterans Bad Religion don't rely on bankrupt laurels, nostalgia, or a facade of long-expired cool. LP after LP, they just set vicious hooks, a blitzkrieg attack, and potent lyrics to soaring singer Greg Graffin's piledriving passion. It's easy to take them for granted, to view Recipe as just another red-hot LP (ho hum) by the last and best band to survive the '80s L.A. punk explosion. And on first listen, it's tarnished by their previous mild malaise: everything sounds alike, and some exit the boat here too quickly. But then the beautiful sonic smack starts to sink in, and the luxurious melodies introduce erudite parables. Their hometown's riots inspired the gut responses of "Recipe for Hate" and "Don't Pray On Me" ("everybody's equal, just don't measure it"), but they think too clearly to grandstand. Rather, from the epic, anti-military sneer of "All Good Soldiers" to the introspective nausea of "Struck a Nerve" and "Looking In" ("our evolution is our demise"), Bad Religion issue more warnings about our unquestioned ways than Rachel Carson or Michael Crichton could shake a stick at. Warning who? Die-hard punks remain their core audience, but with the co-optation of that carcass into mainstream nirvana, this band is ambushing the slackers. Accordingly, they ripened out of the rapid-fire detonations of 1988's Suffer, 1989's No Control, and 1990's Against the Grain into 1992's more methodical Generator. Recipe's saner speeds and better variety should further inveigle any upstanding gormandizer of killer tunes and dive-bomb chord changes. And in any real taste test, Bad Religion is the alternative to alternative. Smug, silly, ironic '70s retro bands feign danger and detachment, but this band's urgency, lyrical contentiousness, and wicked crunch crush that au courant crap flat. ~ Jack Rabid, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Generator demonstrates an improved sense of melody from Greg Graffin, which doesn't mean Bad Religion have abandoned their blistering hardcore inclinations. Instead, the band has managed to incorporate melody within the framework, adding an increased depth to their already provocative songs. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
