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Back in 1995, when Kyuss finally disintegrated, nobody outside of a certain sunburned cult could’ve predicted that the Palm Desert goliaths would turn into an influence--that their wide-open spaces, deep-focus guitar, and lizard-killing low end would spawn an entire genre, known as “stoner rock.”

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These two bands probably wouldn't recognize each other in line at the DMV. Dredg's post-Tool opus rock courts suburban kids who have had enough of rap metal. Oakland's High on Fire are underground thrash-sludge messiahs, the apocalypse's doomy, amp-destroying fifth horseman. But both bands are obsessed with rewiring metal clichés while staying true to the music's fundamentals.

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Fashion trends notwithstanding, it’s hard to picture Michael Stipe in a John Deere cap. R.E.M., those old con artists, were Southerners who stressed poetry and kudzu over regional pride, so they resonated with the indie-rock in-crowd as a rock band from the South, not a “Southern rock” band.

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Some punk bands scream at walls. The Blood Brothers just reach for their sledgehammers. Sometime in the mid-'90s, hardcore stopped being obsessed with staying on message and started spazzing out. At basement shows and VFW halls, grimy guys with chain wallets and watch caps traded the genre's solemn idealism for musically hellacious, lyrically obtuse chaos.

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When Chan Marshall sings, it sounds like a bloodletting--emotional, literal, whichever. On albums like 1996's What Would the Community Think, Marshall seemed to open a new vein with every note.