Watch DC ska-punks Kill Lincoln’s video for new song “Ignorance Is Bliss” off first LP in 7 years

Ska-punk often gets accused of being too lighthearted or jovial, but Operation Ivy's genuinely badass Energy is the genre's first true classic album, and there's nothing lighthearted or jovial about it. Just in case you're unfamiliar, Energy is the first and only album Op Ivy released before breaking up, and though the band only existed for two years, their legacy still hasn't stopped growing. Tim "Lint" Armstrong and Matt Freeman went on to get very famous in Rancid, Op Ivy's former Lookout! Records labelmates Green Day have since brought their well-known cover of Op Ivy's "Knowledge" to hundreds of thousands of people who never stepped foot inside 924 Gilman, and Op Ivy's influence has lived on through approximately every single ska-punk band ever. And over 30 years later, Energy sounds as fresh as ever. It bridged the gap between the gritty hardcore of the early '80s and all the massive pop punk and ska-punk bands of the '90s, and it retains the unique ability of being accessible to fans of both camps. Singer Jesse Michaels (later of Common Rider and then the severely underrated Classics of Love) sounds like he's singing with nails in his throat, the recording quality is rough as sandpaper, and the DGAF attitude is as reflected in the no-bullshit lyrics as it is in the overall sound of the record. In the words of Drake, it ain't about who did it first, it's about who did it right. But sometimes, as in the case of Operation Ivy, those people are one and the same.

I stand by giving Op Ivy the title of first and best, but if any band has the right to challenge them for the throne, it's The Mighty Mighty Bosstones. On the opposite side of the country, the Bosstones released their debut album Devil's Night Out the same year as Energy, and you can really credit those two albums for spearheading the ska-punk boom of the following decade. But while Op Ivy quickly broke up, the Bosstones kinda became the Bad Religion of ska-punk, lifers who helped create the genre, helped bring it to the mainstream, and stayed consistent as new generations of bands came and went. I mean, Dicky Barrett sang on The '59 Sound. These guys are in it for life.

Devil's Night Out helped usher in the ska-punk genre, and a few years later the Bosstones would be among the bands bringing it to the masses, thanks to their cameo in Clueless and their 1997 mainstream breakthrough Let's Face It (and its big single "the Impression That I Get"). But right smack in the middle of those things came their 1993 major label debut Don't Know How to Party, which found the sweet spot between their punk (and metal) roots and the radio-friendly band they'd become. And, for my money, it's their best record. It's home to "Someday I Suppose," which they play during their Clueless cameo and which proved they had as many pop songwriting chops in their arsenal as punk and metal riffs. It's not just as good a pop song as the Bosstones' later, higher-charting singles; it's better. And it's not alone on Don't Know How to Party. The title track and "Almost Anything Goes" proved the pop smarts of "Someday I Suppose" were no fluke, and hinted at the big breakthrough the band would soon have. At the same time, the Headbanger's Ball-worthy "Last Dead Mouse" and the thrashy "A Man Without" keep Don't Know How to Party separate from the tamer bands that the Bosstones influenced. Not to mention, Bad Brains' Darryl Jenifer guests on this record, so it's got punk cred just for that. It's the best of both worlds.

While the UK was having its 2 Tone movement in the early '80s, Dick Lucas and other future members of Citizen Fish were making raw anarcho-punk with Subhumans that took more after Crass than after the milder punk that 2 Tone was adjacent to. And after Subhumans' 1985 breakup, they morphed into the more ska-tinged Culture Shock, who then called it quits in '89 and morphed into Citizen Fish the following year, just as the ska-punk wave was starting to crest. Because of Citizen Fish's rawer punk roots and Dick Lucas' gnarled delivery, Citizen Fish fit right in with the ska-punk bands that were taking off at the time, and their street punk mindset and anarchic politics brought a darker side to ska-punk that would later be further explored by bands like Leftover Crack (more on them soon), who Citizen Fish actually went on to release a split with in 2007. Dick Lucas is a true lifer (just last year, Subhumans released their first album in 12 years and it's genuinely great) and it was tough to pick just one Citizen Fish album for this list, but it's hard to go wrong with Flinch. It was released in 1994, just as ska-punk was starting to explode and it's a little more developed than the CF albums before it, but Citizen Fish still sound like a band with something to prove on it. Its upstrokes and horn lines gave it a cleaner, more melodic, more upbeat side than classic Subhumans, but Dick remained as nasty in his delivery and as unflinching in his message as ever. The anarchy symbol in punk started to go mainstream in the '90s, but here was a band whose members had helped define the first wave of anarcho-punk making that music just a little more palatable for a new generation and a wider audience without sacrificing their intensity or bothering with all the silly fashion.

Presumably taking notes from Fishbone and The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Southern California's Voodoo Glow Skulls threw a little metal riffage into their ska-punk formula, but much more so than either of those bands, they were also tied to mile-a-minute hardcore. A lot of bands earn the "ska-core" tag due to vocals, but more than most, Voodoo Glow Skulls' rhythm section earn it too. Between their heart-racing speed and Frank Casillas' burly bark, they're one of the loudest, fastest bands on this list. They're also -- as they began fully embracing on their 1995 sophomore LP and Epitaph debut Firme, which was released in both English and Spanish -- true to their Latin, Mexican, and Spanish roots, and it remains important that they brought that to a genre that was dominated by white people. Firme perfected the sound that Voodoo Glow Skulls would continue to hone for the rest of their career, and as good as some of their later stuff is, Firme remains some of their freshest sounding material. Ska-punk could often be light and breezy, but Firme is dark, heavy, and claustrophobic. It's a record that spends the bulk of its time jackhammering away at your eardrums, and somehow - thanks in part to Voodoo Glow Skulls' inventive horn/guitar interplay and Frank's percussive vocal runs -- it sneaks a whole bunch of addictive melodies into your brain too.

Like the Voodoo Glow Skulls, Detroit's Suicide Machines made ska-punk that leaned punk and hardcore, but instead of going thick, dark, and heavy, TSM favored the tinnier sounds of early hardcore. Their 1996 debut album Destruction by Definition ends with a ska cover of Minor Threat's "I Don't Wanna Hear It," which is both an awesome cover and a good metaphor for what the original songs sound like. The Suicide Machines started hitting even harder over time, eventually building up to the more beastly sounds of their George W. Bush-era album War Profiteering Is Killing Us All, but Destruction by Definition is the album that started it all, it's classic Suicide Machines, and it's also the sound they returned to on their new comeback single, so if you gotta go with just one, this is always the one. This record is great because it's got the intimidatingly cool punk side that a lot of ska-punk lacks, but it also fully embraces just the right amount of the cheerier side that makes ska-punk so fun. It's got it all -- the bright melodies, the gang vocals, the horns, the organs, the skank-inducing rhythms -- but it's also got roaring screams, razor-sharp power chords, and mosh-inducing rhythms too. It's less a fusion of ska and hardcore and more a record that flips between ska and hardcore at the drop of a hat, without ever losing focus. These guys embraced a ton of familiar sounds but always managed to stand out from the pack, and they wrote songs with real lasting power. It's no wonder their comeback is already going over so well.

As far as ska-punk bands not being taken seriously goes, it's not too surprising that a band called "Less Than Jake" who are obsessed with Pez and have a goofy mascot aren't exactly considered the coolest band around. But beneath the often-silly exterior lies a lifer band with an arsenal of great songs, many of which make up their still-awesome 1996 album, Losing Streak. Losing Streak was their sophomore album and Capitol Records debut (following their debut album Pezcore, released a year earlier on Mike Park's pre-Asian Man Records label Dill Records, and featuring re-recordings of two songs from that album), and it remains their most seminal album. They tightened up their sound from the promising Pezcore but had not yet gone in the more polished-sounding direction as some of their later albums, and it's the perfect middle ground. As much as they were obviously ska, LTJ were also just a great skate punk band, and the raw but sharp-sounding Losing Streak is as good a skate punk record as '90s classics like Punk In Drublic or Dude Ranch. Like those records, Losing Streak is scrappy and distorted and zips by at laser speed, but it's also full of great pop songs. With two lead vocalists (Chris Demakes and Roger Lima) who have insane chemistry and can trade lines, call and respond, overlap with each other, and harmonize, Losing Streak is packed to the gills with a kind of rich melodic work that you don't always hear in snotty punk rock. They're also great storytellers, and -- hailing from from the same Gainesville Rock City that birthed Against Me!, Hot Water Music, and The Fest -- LTJ had a sense of small town boredom and apathy that really came alive in their songs. Not saying it's Shakespeare or anything, but the imagery in the lyrics is as vivid as the melodies are catchy. Listening to Losing Streak feels like peering into a world of drug deals, liquor stores, and fights on street corners, all told by a protagonist that's drunk on self-doubt. Not necessarily what you'd expect from a band with a silly name and a Pez obsession.

Before Brendan Kelly formed The Lawrence Arms and Dan Andriano joined Alkaline Trio (and before they met back up in The Falcon), they both played in the short-lived Chicago ska-punk band Slapstick, who released one album (1995's Lookit!) on Dill Records and two EPs, and who had six songs recorded for an aborted sophomore album before calling it quits in 1996. Those six songs and all their others ended up on this self-titled compilation, released the year after Slapstick broke up, and this comp offers more than just a look at two famous musicians' early band. It's one of the best ska-punk records of the '90s, period. Slapstick's lineup also included trombone player Peter Anna (who went on to play in Less Than Jake from 1998 to 2001), and you can retroactively describe them as sounding like "The Lawrence Arms meets Less Than Jake" and not be too far off the mark. Brendan Kelly's iconic rasp was already fully developed in Slapstick, which gave them an edge that was closer to Op Ivy and the Bosstones than the shinier ska bands that were emerging by the mid/late '90s, but their knack for major key melodies and triumphant horn lines (especially on the six newer songs) made them just as catchy as any of the more popular bands of the era. Obviously Brendan Kelly and Dan Andriano both went on to have very fine careers, but if Slapstick never broke up, I wouldn't be surprised if they ended up getting a lot bigger. Brendan's songwriting was already as strong in this earlier, more underrated band as it was on the much more widely-loved Lawrence Arms classics that were soon to come.

Just months after East Brunswick, NJ's Catch 22 released their 1998 debut album Keasbey Nights (on Victory Records, a label then primarily known for metalcore), frontman Tomas Kalnoky and bassist Josh Ansley left the band, soon to be followed by trombonist James Egan. Catch 22 started shuffling around their lineup, and eventually Tomas, Josh, and James formed Streetlight Manifesto (who re-recorded their own version of Keasbey Nights in 2006). Both bands went on to do worthwhile stuff, but nothing ever captured the magic of the original, eternally great Keasbey Nights. At the risk of sounding too hyperbolic, this album is like the true heir to Operation Ivy's throne. Like that band, Keasbey Nights sounds thin and scratchy and rough around the edges, but it's perfect the way it is. And like Op Ivy, Keasbey Nights shows off a true love and understanding of ska, while also sticking to a true punk mentality. The bands on this list all found various ways to bring ska and punk together; Keasbey Nights fused them to the point where the lines between them ceased to exist.

The rhythms were rooted in ska more often than not, but the speed was full-on punk. Keasbey Nights is such a fast record that it has several songs where it sounds like Tomas and his bandmates can hardly finish their sentences, but everything always sounds intentional and under control. It's dizzying to try to keep up with them, but the opposite of inaccessible. Tomas packs an insane amount of hooks into these songs; I don't even know if the album technically has a "single" but it feels like a greatest hits. Nearly every track on Keasbey Nights is a stone-cold ska-punk classic, and the album flows brilliantly and never suffers from filler. Sometimes liking ska-punk requires you to embrace a little cheese or a little '90s datedness, but there's nothing cheesy or dated about this near-perfect record.

The best Rancid album is 1995's ...And Out Come the Wolves -- home to ska-punk classics like "Time Bomb" and "Old Friend" -- but the most ska Rancid album is Life Won't Wait, so that's the one that makes this list. Tim Armstrong and Matt Freeman helped create third wave/ska-punk as we know it in Operation Ivy, but Life Won't Wait was a love letter to first-wave ska, reggae, rocksteady, 2 Tone, and just about every other type of music that was somewhere in Rancid's DNA. The album featured veteran Jamaican reggae musician Buju Banton alongside members of The Specials, The Slackers, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, and more (it also featured members of Green Day, Agnostic Front, and the Ramones), and it saw Rancid utilizing organ, steel drums, horns, blues harmonica, and more to create the most real-deal ska songs of their career. Songs like the title track and "Wrongful Suspicion" are much more in the "traditional" ska realm than just about every other album on this list, but Rancid are so punk to their core than even the parts recorded in Jamaica are dripping in the sweat of 924 Gilman. It's also not even accurate to just describe Life Won't Wait as Rancid's traditional ska/reggae album; songs like "Bloodclot" and "1998" are among the best punk songs in their discography and the lyrics of "Wrongful Suspicion" shout out a slew of hardcore and punk (and ska) bands that Rancid love. It's by far the most unique and ambitious album that Rancid ever made and one of the most unique and ambitious albums to come out of ska-punk in general.

As mentioned earlier when talking about Citizen Fish, their anarcho-punk/ska blend was a clear influence on bands like NYC's Leftover Crack, who Citizen Fish eventually released a split with in 2007. But before Stza formed Leftover Crack, he was a member of Choking Victim, who released their sole album No Gods, No Managers on Tim Armstrong's Hellcat Records in 1999, after they had already broken up. There were other ska bands who favored a raw, dark, punk aesthetic, but Choking Victim lived and breathed it. They led their career with uncompromising politics, they literally lived in a squat house, and their music sounded as grimy as the poverty-stricken 1990s Lower East Side that informed it. Once you know their story and their ethos, it's not too surprising to learn that No Gods, No Managers is the aural equivalent of sticking a middle finger up at the government, society, capitalism, and the music industry, but what's sort of surprising is how tuneful Choking Victim's songs are. No Gods, No Managers isn't just about the message and the image; Choking Victim put just as much care into coming up with really good melodies, even if sometimes they sing those melodies like they've got gravel in their throats.

Moving right along to Stza's next band. Leftover Crack (whose lineup also included Choking Victim's Ezra Kire until 2009) continued very much in the same realm as Choking Victim, both lyrically and musically, but they also did things their previous band didn't do -- especially on this album -- and they weren’t afraid to bring their sound and message to wider audiences. By their 2004 sophomore LP Fuck World Trade (named after a Choking Victim lyric but also referencing Leftover Crack's 2001 debut album Mediocre Generica coming out on 9/11), they had recruited Brad Logan of F-Minus on guitar, linked up with Steve Albini to record the album, signed to Jello Biafra's Alternative Tentacles to release it, and brought in guest appearances from members of longtime associates The World/Inferno Friendship Society, as well as from Anti-Flag, who shared a lot of Leftover Crack's beliefs and whose popularity presumably helped turn a few new people on to Leftover Crack. Like Choking Victim, much of Fuck World Trade is a raw, grimy, anarcho-punk/ska blend with a surprising amount of tunefulness, but it also covered some other ground. "Soon We'll Be Dead" (the song with World/Inferno) is a campfire folk song, while "Operation: M.O.V.E." has an obvious black metal influence... not something you hear everyday in ska-punk.

Before Jeff Rosenstock became an acclaimed solo artist and before he led the ska/punk/indie/pop/etc collective Bomb the Music Industry, he fronted the ska-punk band The Arrogant Sons of Bitches. ASOB was already starting to fizzle out by the mid-2000s, and Jeff had begun dedicating his time to BTMI, but they eventually managed to finally finish and release one last album, Three Cheers for Disappointment, which had been in the making for about five years. And thank god they finally finished it, because it's one of the best albums Jeff ever made. If you're someone who got into Jeff Rosenstock more recently through his solo work and you're wondering where else in his huge back catalog to start exploring, this album wouldn't be a bad place to start. As more of a punk record than most of Bomb the Music Industry's stuff, it's more similar to his current solo work than BTMI is. And as far as high-speed ska-punk goes, ASOB mastered it as well as Op Ivy, The Suicide Machines, Catch-22, or any of the other greats in this style. Like those bands, it's undeniably and unapologetically ska, but it's very much a punk and sometimes even hardcore record. Like Catch-22, ASOB always seem to be playing faster than they should be, but always sound impossibly tight. Like Op Ivy and The Suicide Machines, there are times ASOB are pulling directly from early '80s hardcore, but they always make it work within the context of fun, catchy, upbeat ska songs. And Jeff Rosenstock may have only recently started to get critical acclaim for his lyrical wit, infectious melodies, and explosive delivery, but he had all of that in spades as far back as this record. Its reputation might've been hindered by how long it took to release (2006 wasn't a very good year to put out a ska record), but most who hear it agree: it rivals just about anything from ska-punk's '90s heyday.