What's In A Name?

It's a common occurence. You're hanging out with friends, shooting the breeze, and somebody strings together an odd combination of words. Bonus points if they're a little inebriated and the phrase makes very little sense. Then someone passes the inevitable judgment: "That would make a cool band name."

Would it, really? Would "The Homeless Plants" or "Feet Parade" really make a killer name for a band?

Maybe not. But what makes a good band name, anyway?

There are always trends. In the '60s, it was The ____. The Temptations. The Platters. The Four Tops. In the late '90s, it was bands with a number. Matchbox 20 (later amended to matchbox twenty, for a more respectable sound, y'know). Stroke 9. Blink 182. The early 2000s featured an inordinate number of Papas: Roach, Vegas, et al. In recent years, it's been wolves: Sea Wolf. Wolfmother. Wolf Parade. Wolves are decidedly more badass than articles, numbers or dads, so I'd say it's a positive trajectory.

It's easy to spot bad band names, even though they sometimes title bands that experience dubious success. Chart-topping or no, terrible band names often accompany terrible music. As Michael put it to me, "I mean, really, what did we expect from 'Limp Bizkit'?" Besides some moist pastries, not a whole lot. That era played host to a bevy of shock-rock band names-- prior to the Bizkits there were the Butthole Surfers; following the Bizkits there were Puddle of Mudd, Staind, Mudvayne and all their dirty compatriots. As if we'd be so alarmed, so appalled, so offended by the band's title that we'd be stunned into giving their music a shot. Maybe some people were; maybe some people even liked it. They certainly sold albums. But I'm going to go ahead and say grossing me out is not the best way to give your band a solid name.

So what is? By an elaborate and scientific series of brackets that puts March Madness to shame and exists only in my head, I have determined that the coolest band name of all time ever is Dr. Teeth & the Electric Mayhem. Yeah, from The Muppets. You only wish you had thought of it first.

Other cool band names, in my opinion, include: Arcade Fire. The Black Keys, subtly denoting their bluesy, gritty, minor key style. Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes. Iron & Wine. Some of my favorite band names simply make very little sense, but evoke an interesting image, or feature a unique cacophany of words. The very best band names may not say anything literal about the band they describe, but may be tenuously indicative of a sound, a tone. They may just make you think, "yeah, that sounds about right."

But what do I know? R.E.M. randomly picked their name out of a dictionary, and it's still pretty cool.

It's all very subjective, of course, but my advice to those of you budding rockers out there is to avoid numbers, dirt imagery and misspellings at all cost. I myself dig the ___ & the ____ construction (Hootie & the Blowfish notwithstanding. There's an exception to every rule). My future band, however, (once I master an instrument, that is, and maybe learn to sing) will be called The Muckrakers (nobody steal it, K?).

The music may be what's most important, but there's a lot to be said about a name. Who wants to eat a limp biscuit, anyway?