#51: Outt of iDdeasSS?
Band Name Bureau’s raison d’etre is simple enough: catalogue, celebrate, and make the occasional/frequent snarky comment about band names. Here we use “band name” for simplicity’s sake, because all artists are covered, from groups to solo projects to DJs, rappers and however you classify your defiantly atonal noise project. (“Melody is, like, fascism, you know?”)
Having been on this mission for the better part of 17 years (!!), I’ve seen thousands and thousands of names. I’m usually reticent to proclaim any trends or make generalizations about what I see while conducting my Very Important Research, but a certain naming convention has grown more prominent in recent years.
I call it a skiphthong.
In linguistics, a diphthong is “a gliding, monosyllabic speech sound that starts at or near the the articulatory position for one vowel and moves to or toward the position of another,” per Merriam-Webster. The “oy” sound in “boy,” that’s a diphthong. Ditto the “ou” in “cloud.”
A skiphthong is the sequential repetition of a particular letter in an artist’s name—usually an indie band associated with nebulous “hipsters”—often added because another artist already claims the moniker. The classic example is Wavves, a California indie band that found an early champion in Pitchfork.
Why skiphthong? Because, without fail, these names are boring and lazy, and thus skippable. They barely register.
Wavves frontman Nathan Williams had two better options once he learned a band from New Zealand released music under that name in the ’70s:
Add another word. An adjective? Another noun? There are literally thousands of possibilities. Considering the subject matter of the group’s 2009 self-titled debut, maybe Goth Waves would’ve worked? Or Wave Goths? Hey, these are just thought-starters.
Choose another name altogether. Maybe not a common, single-syllable noun?
But nope, he shrugged and said, “How about Wavves, with two Vs? And I can call my second album Wavvves, because I am out of fucking ideas, y’all.”
DIIV faced a similar choice in 2012. Frontman Zachary Cole Smith originated the group under the name Dive, after his favorite Nirvana song and the fact that all four members of the quartet were water signs (a phrase I just had to google). When Smith learned about the ’90s Belgian industrial band Dive, he opted for…DIIV, which looks too close to Roman numerals—“Wait, is D one thousand? Or is that M?”—and could be pronounced “divv.” Eww.
Both Wavves and DIIV and been around for more than a decade at this point, and a quick look at 2022 music festival schedules reflects what has followed:
Hovvdy
Alvvays
LIILY
Chiiild
Fiin
Biicla
Aiida
HAAi
Slayyyter
CAAMP
Whaat
SCRAAATCH
The boring list just goes on boringly, especially when I zoom out beyond festivals to find upcoming shows for the likes of Pelvi$$, Bangzz, LANNDS, Ekkstacy, CupcakKe, NIIS, JASSS, Traxx, Honey Cutt, Biig Piig, niiice. Have you fallen asleep yet?
Sometimes these bands will stylize their names certain ways, as if to compensate for their lack of imagination. Using all caps is a go-to move, because why not shout your blandness? Or you can whisper it and go all lower case. You can mix the the two up—oh hai, HAAi—or add in some unnecessary punctuation, as niiiice. does.
I defy you to remember any of these names after you put down your phone. Now Gay Witch Abortion? That’s one you remember.
POST-SCRIPTS
Another lazy move? Changing “the” in your name to “thee.” Thee Oh Sees. Thee Headcoats. Megan Thee Stallion. Thee Sacred Souls. I pray thee, chose another option.
Dive sounds more like a name for a Seattle band from 1992. “Tonight at RKCNDY: Soundgarden with Tad and Dive!”