Last week we put up a preorder for new reissues of the classic Naked Raygun albums. After a few years of licensed vinyl pressings on Haunted Town Records, Naked Raygun’s catalog is returning to Quarterstick Records, the Touch & Go subsidiary that handled the first round of Naked Raygun CD reissues in 1999. I don’t know if there will be anything particularly new or special about these pressings, but I’m stoked to have the essential albums by one of my all-time favorites back in stock. The other day I was driving home from Greensboro after picking up a collection for the shop. The sun was shining, it wasn’t too hot (a rarity in North Carolina), and the day seemed to beg for some singalong punk. That’s when I decided I’d celebrate these reissues by listening to the entire Naked Raygun discography and putting together a quick user’s guide to the band’s catalog for those of you who might not know them well or haven’t checked out everything. I also put together a YouTube playlist featuring all the key tracks I call out below, which functions as a nice audio primer on the band.
If you’re a total Raygun novice, the first thing you should know is that Naked Raygun is from Chicago. Not only are they from Chicago, but they’re a particularly Chicago-y sounding Chicago band. For many people, it’s Naked Raygun and their peers the Effigies who defined the Chicago punk sound with their big vocal melodies and tough, but slightly somber-sounding, chord progressions, echoes of which you could hear in the city’s home-grown takes on pop-punk and emo that came long after NR and the Effigies’ heyday. Chicago’s scene was somewhat unique among American cities in that its bands (and Naked Raygun and the Effigies in particular) took a lot of influence from 70s UK punk. The Buzzcocks and Stiff Little Fingers seem to have been held in particularly high regard in Chicago, so if you love that sound—big guitars, big vocal melodies, a driving rhythm section—Naked Raygun is going to be right up your alley.
Naked Raygun’s first record was 1983’s Basement Screams, though it’s not the place I would recommend starting if you’re digging into Naked Raygun for the first time. Even though the band had been bumping around for several years (they formed in 1980 and contributed an early version of “Bomb Shelter” to 1981’s Busted at Oz compilation), Naked Raygun hadn’t quite found their voice on Basement Screams. You can hear glimmers of their later melodic punk stuff (particularly on “I Lie”), but the record draws more from UK post-punk bands like Gang of Four, Wire, and Joy Division. Naked Raygun would always have quirky, arty moments on their records, but the scales tip in that direction on Basement Screams. While I wouldn’t rank it among Naked Raygun’s strongest records, Basement Screams certainly has its moments, and for people whose tastes lean toward artier sounds, it might be the only Naked Raygun record you really like. I’ve always been partial to the song “Tojo” with its upbeat, Fall-esque rhythm, big chorus, and odd lyrics. If you take a liking to this era of the band—and many people do—check out reissues of Basement Screams, whose bonus tracks flesh out the picture of this first iteration of Naked Raygun. Key tracks: “I Lie,” “Tojo.”
Collector Nerd Sidebar: In 1984, Ruthless Records previewed Naked Raygun’s debut album with a 3-song 7” called Flammable Solid. This record has never been reissued. The versions of “Surf Combat” and “Gear” on the b-side are exactly the same as the album versions as far as I can tell, but the a-side track, “Libido,” sounds to me like an alternate mix that shaves about a minute off the song’s runtime and adds some electric organ overdubs. This release is for nerds only, and super-duper nerds will also need it with the vellum lyric insert and sticker. My copy actually has 3 stickers, 2 of which have different Naked Raygun stamps, so I guess that makes me a super-duper mega turbo nerd.
Naked Raygun’s first proper full-length was 1985’s Throb Throb, which saw guitarist John Haggerty join the band, an important moment because—along with Jeff Pezzati’s soaring vocals—Haggerty’s beefy guitar sound was Naked Raygun’s most identifiable sonic hallmark. The earlier, art-punk Naked Raygun is still here on tracks like “Gear” and “Libido,” but “Rat Patrol,” “Metastasis,” and especially “I Don’t Know” (that lead guitar part!!!!!) find the core element’s of Naked Raygun’s high style falling into place. Another standout is “Surf Combat,” which fits in that art-punk bucket structurally, but is so kinetic and boisterous that it’s kind of hardcore. With all that energy and the band’s leanest, most direct-sounding recording, Throb Throb is a lot of hardcore fans’ favorite Naked Raygun album, and a great place to start if you love 80s American hardcore but don’t really know Naked Raygun. Key tracks: “Surf Combat,” “I Don’t Know.”
For me, though, Throb Throb’s follow-up, 1986’s All Rise, is Naked Raygun’s best album. I think most fans would agree it has the best production, with a clear, bright, and heavy guitar sound, hefty bottom end, and the band delivering an energetic, locked-in performance. Stylistically, this finds them at a fruitful intersection of their art-punk and melodic punk periods. Tracks like “Mr. Gridlock” and “The Peacemaker” have a similar sort of tension as early Killing Joke, but they’re songs I can’t imagine anyone other than Naked Raygun doing. But the melodic songs are undeniably the album’s highlight, with “Home of the Brave,” “Knock Me Down,” “I Remember,” and “Those Who Move” all delivering the combination of power and beauty that I think of as Naked Raygun’s thing. And there’s also “New Dreams,” another canonized Raygun classic, which sounds like it was ripped straight off Pink Flag with its aggressive yet artfully minimal attack. All Rise is an utterly singular record, and for my money one of the great American punk albums… there’s just nothing else out there with its unique combination of characteristics. Key tracks: “Home of the Brave,” “New Dreams.”
Here I must interrupt my run-through of Naked Raygun’s full-lengths to highlight the band’s 1987 non-album single “Vanilla Blue,” which came out between All Rise and its follow-up Jettison, self-released on the band’s own Sandpounder Records (the label’s only release). I mentioned earlier that Naked Raygun took a lot from UK bands, and they must have been mimicking the singles-oriented approach of those bands in putting out “Vanilla Blue” as a stand-alone 7”. God knows that releasing your band’s best song this way was a perverse gesture in the United States circa 1987, when general interest in 7” singles seemed to be at an all-time low. But fucking SHIT, “Vanilla Blue” is a banger. Starting with a kitschy but credible surf intro, it blossoms into the definitive Raygun tune, Haggerty doing little more than bashing out the chords but sounding like a million bucks doing it, while Pezatti delivers the song’s soaring melody with a stoic cool that, Sinatra-like, hints at a world of feeling beneath the surface. Thankfully, “Vanilla Blue” has been tacked onto some reissues of Jettison, but I don’t know if it gets lost in the shuffle of this latest catalog reissue… that would certainly be a shame. The original pressing isn’t hard to lay your hands on, though. Oh, and if you’re wondering what’s on the B-side, Naked Raygun made another perverse choice in backing their best song with their worst song, the novelty tune “Slim.” Key track: “Vanilla Blue.”
In 1988, Naked Raygun was coming off a pair of brilliant records, poised to make their artistic triumph, and… I wouldn’t say they whiffed, but they didn’t fully connect. On the band’s third album, Jettison, the Buzzcocks-style melodic and driving songs that had provided their earlier records’ highlights come to dominate the runtime. “Soldiers Requiem” is a Naked Raygun classic and among their very best songs. It’s so simple, too… John Haggerty bangs out the song’s classic-sounding chord progression over a driving punk beat while Pezzati totally abandons the English language for the track’s brilliantly whoa-tastic chorus. Even the way they balance those driving passages with the more musically expansive instrumental breaks is so Buzzcocks, the band having absorbed every drop of wisdom from Singles Going Steady. As great as the songs and performances are, though, Jettison is plagued by a tinny recording that blunts their impact. The guitar sound on Jettison is like Hüsker Dü’s on New Day Rising and Flip Your Wig, and as with those records, I can’t help but wonder what Jettison would have sounded like with All Rise’s perfect balance of warmth, heft, and crispness. The album’s sequencing accentuates the feeling of bathos, ending with a live cover of “Suspect Device” that’s fine, but feels like an afterthought. Even with these flaws, though, Jettson is a brilliant album and well worth spending a lot of time with if you develop a taste for Naked Raygun’s unique style. Key tracks: “Soldier’s Requiem,” “The Mule.”
Naked Raygun returned in 1989 with their fourth album, Understand?. Understand? has a much stronger recording than Jettison, with Haggerty’s trademark guitar sound back in full effect. Again, there are some great songs. “Wonder Beer” is like raw meat tossed into the packs of hungry Raygun fans, its massive chorus calling back to the band’s most anthemic moments. “Treason,” which the label promoted with a pink vinyl 12” single, also has its place on the list of Naked Raygun’s best songs. Its four-note lead guitar riff is punk rock elegance personified, the simmering tempo shows off how great Naked Raygun was at holding teeth-grinding tension, and by this point you know there’s a fucking great vocal hook in the chorus. As great as some moments are, though, the band just sounds tired on Understand?. The songs have this torpor about them, like they’re deliberately pulling back the tempos, and when they apply that approach to a slow song on “Vagabond Dog,” it’s downright turgid. I still like that song and I love Understand?, but it’s missing a certain spark when you compare it to the band’s other albums. As with the Beatles’ Let It Be, it’s an example of great musicians operating at not exactly the height of inspiration. Key tracks: “Treason,” “Wonder Beer.”
I don’t know if guitarist John Haggerty indeed felt uninspired when the band recorded Understand?, but he left Naked Raygun sometime after recording it, forming the brilliant Pegboy, whose first album Strong Reaction rekindles the spark that was missing on Understand?. As for Naked Raygun themselves, they replaced Haggerty with guitarist Bill Stephens and soldiered on, releasing their fifth album, Raygun… Naked Raygun in 1990. Obviously, losing a key member like Haggerty is going to affect the band’s sound, but I think Raygun… Naked Raygun often receives derision from people who just assume it isn’t any good. Personally, I think it’s a better album than Understand?. The band doesn’t sound sluggish like they did on that album, and they’re still churning out classic songs. The album’s opening track, “Home,” continues Raygun’s pattern of opening their albums with a classic track, and the next song, “Fever Island,” nails what Jettison should have sounded like. Stephens proves a capable stand-in for Haggerty, to where I wonder how much of this material was worked up before Haggerty left. The Buzzcocks-esque one-note guitar part on the chorus to “Home” and the way Stephens cranks out the chords on “Fever Island” are textbook Haggerty. If Stephens came up with those parts, it’s a testament to how perfect he was for the job. (Also, don’t miss the b-side of the “Home” single, a cover of Chelsea’s “Last Drink” that fits Naked Raygun’s sound perfectly, particularly since it works as a kind of sequel to “Wonder Beer.” There are also two Buzzcocks covers from around this time that appeared on a tribute compilation… these are also worth hearing.) Key tracks: “Home,” “Terminal,” “Last Drink.”
While Raygun… Naked Raygun sounded like a step in the right direction to me, it proved to be the last album in Naked Raygun’s original run. The band fizzled in the early 90s, though they came together sporadically in the years after, apparently unable to develop much momentum. A temporary reunion in 1997 led to a recording session with Steve Albini that went unreleased at that time, but eventually came out as part of a collection called Last of the Demohicans. While that recorded is padded out with a bunch of live stuff, the 1997 tracks are excellent. In some ways, these four songs sound like a different band—it seems like Stephens really finds his own voice as a guitarist here rather than emulating Haggerty—but they feel creative and exciting in a way the last few Naked Raygun albums didn’t. As you might expect, Albini’s recording is also one of the best the band ever got. Another shoulda coulda moment in a catalog that has too many of them. Sadly, The Last of the Demohicans isn’t part of the current reissue campaign, but the Chicago label Dyslexic Records did a vinyl pressing a few years ago that shouldn’t be too hard to find. Key track: “Off the Edge.”
So that’s Naked Raygun’s original run as a band, and then some. Eventually Naked Raygun got back together for real, releasing a series of 7” singles on the Riot Fest label (I think one of Riot Fest’s early coups was promoting a well-received Raygun reunion show) and eventually moving to the seminal Wax Trax! label for their only post-reunion full-length, 2021’s Over the Overlords. These releases all have a more modern sound, and they’re not as good as the records the band’s classic lineup did, but they’re solid melodic punk records packed to the gills with Jeff Pezatti’s unique songwriting and singing. Once you’ve digested the classic material, any of these records (as well as the assorted live records that have come out) can give you the Raygun fix you can’t get anywhere else.
If any of this piques your interest, you can preorder Naked Raygun’s catalog at Sorry State and listen to our Naked Raygun Key Tracks playlist here.