DESCENDENTS: The Most Underrated Band in the History of the Universe

I’ve been a musician for more than 15 years now. I’ve written countless songs, played more gigs than I can remember, and met some of the most incredible people through this powerful thing called music. Through all of that, I truly don’t think there is a single band that has changed my life more than the Descendents.

I discovered the Descendents when I was 14 years old. My old buddy Chris Jones and I had joined a band with two other guys who were probably four or five years older than us. To this day, I don’t remember how that project even started. What I do remember is one of those guys showing up to practice wearing a Descendents T-shirt, and it immediately caught my eye. I asked him about it, and he told me to go home and listen to Milo Goes to College. After practice that day, I did exactly that. The first song I heard was Myage, and I was instantly hooked.

At the time, most of my friends were starting to get into punk rock—bands like Black Flag, Dead Kennedys and Minor Threat. Over the years, I grew to really love those groups. But at that point in my life, I didn’t know much about politics or socioeconomic issues, which many of those bands focused on in their lyrics. When I first started listening to the Descendents, I noticed that a lot of their songs were about relationships, food, friends and everyday frustrations. As a 14-year-old kid, that was something I could truly relate to, not to mention the music absolutely ripped.

I started listening to their records front to back on repeat. I watched live performance videos and dug into interviews with the band on YouTube. One of my favorite quotes comes from drummer Bill Stevenson. He once said, “If 50 people like your band, then 50 people like your band. There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s not shameful. Where is it written that every band has to be huge like Michael Jackson?” That quote alone helped me realize that I had the power to start my own band and that it didn’t matter if we ever became massive. If even a handful of people connected with it, that was enough.

The Descendents also taught me that not every song has to be serious. They taught me you don’t need a gimmick. You don’t have to be incredibly famous or wildly popular to matter. You can wear glasses and still be a punk rocker. Most importantly, they showed me that authenticity will always outweigh image.

One of the most incredible things about the Descendents to me is their songwriting. Beneath the speed and aggression is a level of honesty and melodic craftsmanship that very few bands can match. Their songs are short, punchy, and direct but they’re also thoughtful, vulnerable and often surprisingly catchy. They have an unmatched ability to take simple, everyday emotions and turn them into anthems. There’s a sincerity in their writing that makes you feel like they’re speaking directly to you. It’s not overcomplicated or pretentious. It’s real. And that realness is what has allowed their music to connect with people.

I’ve been fortunate enough to see them live four times, and somehow they’ve gotten better every single show. It’s truly amazing and hard to believe that these guys are well into their 60s and still playing as fast and as precise as they do. It honestly frustrates me how underrated this band can be. Sometimes I wish I could shake the entire world and make everyone listen to them. If you’re reading this and you’re not hip to the Descendents, go and press play. Maybe they’ll change your life the way they changed mine.

To this day, I can say with confidence that if it weren’t for the Descendents, there would be no Heroes of Charlotte. They were undoubtedly the soundtrack to my teenage years. If I could say one thing to Bill, Milo, Stephen, and Karl—and all the members who have been part of the journey—it would simply be this:

Thank you for playing the way you play.