Crystal Stilts’ “Crystal Stilts” and 4 other songs named after their makers

Bands have an infinite number of outlets at their disposal to express who they are: Lyrics, merch art, their Twitter small talk—it all adds up. One convenient way a band can project its image is by writing or naming a song after itself (or, alternately, cribbing its name from a song that it sees as a good representation). Intentionally or not, this tactic fuses band and M.O. into one entity; when you hear Built To Spill’s “Built To Spill” or Pet Shop Boys’ “Pet Shop Boys,” you have to think that the song is a significant representation of its creators, or else why would they use that exact phrase twice? A fleet of musicians and bands have songs that share names with their creators, including Samhain, They Might Be Giants, Rammstein, Belle And Sebastian, Bad Company, Iron Maiden, Talk Talk, Bo Diddley, Fleetwood Mac, Slowdive, and Slipknot. In honor of Crystal Stilts, a member of that list who will play the Empty Bottle tomorrow night, let’s see what their band/song tandem and four others say about their makers.

Crystal Stilts’ “Crystal Stilts” (2008)
After the endless comparisons this Brooklyn act has received to Joy Division, it’s understandable why people make it so often and why Crystal Stilts frontman Brad Hargett thinks the invocations aren’t totally valid. Hargett has a knack for sounding as morose and removed as Ian Curtis, but Stilts explore this weird half-somber, half-cheery terrain Joy Division never did. The minimalist, tambourine-inflected indie-garage-pop of “Crystal Stilts,” off debut LP Alight Of Night, exemplifies this beautifully, with Hargett’s lyrics bringing the worn warmth to life: “We’re courting dreams / For distorting time / To disturb the procession / Preserved in our mind.” The song’s promising, naïve, and totally doomed all at once—an intriguing combo.

M.I.A.’s “M.I.A.” (2005)
When conversation last flowed around Maya Arulpragasam, she was having a dodgy 2010: Maya’s critical scores zig-zagged, she gobbled truffle fries, and there was Diplo drama. “M.I.A.” is a snapshot of a slightly different era. The closer on 2005’s Arular shows an M.I.A. back when she was the press’ pet project and not known for “Paper Planes” or being a billionaire’s son’s sweetheart. “M.I.A.” is pretty standard M.I.A.: On top of a slippery beat, her distinctive patois bounces between singing and saying, riffing on power, materialism, and race while tossing out a self-empowering brag (“Got brown skin, I’m a west Londoner, / Educated but a refugee still”). As a mission statement, it’s fine, but it’s bound to feel outdated as that rebellious shine diminishes.

Minor Threat’s “Minor Threat” (1981)
Unless a straight-edge band somehow rips into the mainstream, no band will ever be as closely tethered to the no booze/drugs/smokes ideology as Minor Threat. The song “Straight Edge” gave rise to the term and is its de facto anthem. “Minor Threat,” from the DC band’s Minor Threat EP and available on its Complete Discography, is a good companion piece: “Make do with what you have. / Take what you can get. / Pay no mind to us, / We’re just a minor threat.” The track is classic Minor Threat (i.e., it sounds like a proudly cruddy one-take with an immensely chantable chorus). It’s not as smash-you-in-the-face immediate as “Filler,” but it’s a decent little remnant from an era where a ton of punk bands also did the eponymous song thing.

Atari Teenage Riot’s “Atari Teenage Riot” (1993)
Stylized rabble-rousing has always been ATR’s forte. The confrontational industrial-punk of “Atari Teenage Riot,” first released as a single and then on 1995’s Delete Yourself!, shows this off capably. A stentorian voice repeatedly asks, “What did you say?” with an irrepressible choir shouting the band’s name like it’s a call to arms. Amusingly, while the track is founded on railing against “experts” (read: The Man) and lobs spittle at Elvis, James Dean, and Marilyn Monroe (“the most famous suckers,” who were apparently symbols of American materialism), ATR’s track is very propaganda-like. The chanted slogan of “Atari Teenage Riot” is made for a rally, and references to “the times ... changing” and “a new world in which young people can work together” add up to a hollow portrait. Still, the band’s genre-ripping sound is excellent at amplifying the chaos of violence, like in this clip when ATR performed at a 1999 protest-turned-riot in Berlin.

Green Day’s “Green Day” (1990)
Catching up with Beastie Boys’ “Beastie Boys,” a frill-free, minute-long throwaway track from when the hip-hop group was just any other hardcore band, is rather bizarre; it gives no clues where the Beasties ended up. “Green Day,” on the other hand, shows you right where a trajectory began. The track from 1,039/Smoothed Out Slappy Hours warps you to a time when pop-punk had yet to make serious bank and its future kings were too busy getting stoned. Yet like other OG GD songs, there’s a faded joy to the Mary Jane-burning track. Typical Billie Joe lyricism means that every silver lining has its cloud, so lighthearted mentions of math and insects (on weed) are juxtaposed with a stoned BJ missing a girl. (“I picture someone, I think it’s you. / You’re standing so damn close.”) The melody isn’t mind-blowing or anything, but the raw songwriting skill is almost palpable. Mainstream potential has never smelled as much like reefer smoked in the East Bay.