It’s common to hear complaints about Pittsburgh’s “horrible” music scene — remarks about how many venues have been closed down, how many mainstream bands bypass Pittsburgh on national tours, or even how nothing creative comes out of Pittsburgh. These statements are totally untrue, especially the last one. To prove it, here’s a list of local bands that are starting to gain national attention (at least within their genres).

Caustic Christ. Formed in 2000, Caustic Christ is a hardcore punk band akin to Municipal Waste and the Subhumans. Caustic Christ has toured throughout the US and Europe. When in Pittsburgh, the band often plays at the Mr. Roboto Project, which is a cooperatively run show space in Wilkinsburg.

Xanopticon. If you’ve been to an electronic show in Pittsburgh, you’ve probably seen Xanopticon open. Remember the guy in the black hoodie with the long greasy hair? Wait, that’s everyone. Well, he was probably the opener, twitching spastically on the crossfader, thinking melodies are unnecessary. If you’re into breakcore, which redefines the meaning of “relentless,” then Xanopticon’s a decent choice. Check him out at basically any Garfield Artworks show that’s even kind of relevant.

Grand Buffet. Pittsburgh is also home to a burgeoning hip-hop scene, and Grand Buffet is right there at its forefront. A duo made up of two Pittsburgh natives, they’ve been producing satirical hip-hop with a local bent for 10 years, and have long been known for their entertaining (usually with lots of audience participation) shows. Now, they’re starting to get really big, having just toured with Of Montreal and played with Sage Francis, Sole, Magnolia Electric Co., and Wesley Willis. You should probably look into their shows before they get as big as…

Girl Talk. You already know all about him. Or, if you don’t, just go read Pitchfork or Stylus or something — he’s an indie darling. Still a nice guy, though; he was only playing basement shows last year and is already getting international contracts. Still, you can catch him around Pittsburgh for cheap fairly often. No one is able to make stoic indie kids dance like him, and it’s not possible to interact with the crowd more. (Last year, when he opened for Prefuse 73 on campus, he smashed a mic into his head, drawing blood, and told the audience to call University Police on a girl for “having too much fun.” Definitely a fun night.)

Max Tundra’s 2002 album, Mastered by Guy at the Exchange, (MBGATE) is 40 minutes of a sort of stilted, strange, hyperactive electronic pop, and rapidly became one of my favorite albums (now that I got around to listening to it a couple years late). Funnily enough — as my friends will tell you — I hate lyrics, but I’ve really been enjoying his. They have a wonderful brilliance and intelligence and an incredibly amateur quality, which is kind of confusing at first but becomes endearing.

MBGATE is Tundra at his most austere: “It was some change which came upon me or upon the room/Indescribably subtle, yet momentous, ineffable.” Get out your thesaurus. But then, don’t, because next is “Lysine,” a musing on the importance of that amino acid. There are a few meditations on Tundra’s day jobs (“Lights”) and friends (“Acorns”), and a hilarious song which is simply a request that director Michel Gondry make a video for him (but: “Judging by your clients/’Twould cost a weighty fee/To make me an ‘Around The World’/Or ‘Let Forever Be’”).

However, one topic appears to be the focus. Like seemingly every lyric ever written, Max Tundra’s are all about women. “Cabasa” is the first and most explicit paean:

Thinking back to when I asked Naomi out/Sitting around in a wooden classroom/Planning my line with a friend from Cornwall/Hiding my erection with a book by Morrish/Misread smiles and summer promise/Intervening love between the years/Has made me understand/I’m glad Naomi turned me down.

In “Labial,” about stealing his best friend’s girlfriend, Tundra makes a snide complaint about the other man and reflects on his current situation:

I’d like to be as articulate as Mr. L/Writing songs about Barbara of Seville/Such a wonderful way with a pen when he’s feeling unwell/I only sing about things that happen to me/I never learnt how to fill my songs with allegory/While my peers paid attention in English I thought about how/I could undress that girl who appeared in my life with a pow/Never mind that she slipped from my hand because look at me now.

My favorite moment, though, is the beginning of “Hilted,” yet another song about some girl from his past:

Six seconds in your company makes me feel upset/That I’ve only known you for six seconds yet.

Is it possible to more clearly express the mood of the beginning of a relationship? I don’t think so. Maybe I’m beginning to see what I’ve been missing while I ignored lyrics all this time.

Sometimes at WRCT we pick up random albums and just take a listen. We were attracted to Kisses and Hugs’s Positive Youth 1994!!! by its amazing and ridiculous yellow cover featuring a black kitten with a horseshoe, a guy in a ski mask, and — most entertainingly — the band members in action; they are obviously nerds. Below is a transcript of our conversation during our first listen through this album.

Alexander Smith: So midway through the second track, “Genital Ben,” I’m already wondering how this dude’s voice hasn’t given out.

Joannie Wu: Are these dudes playing in Josh Atlas’ basement? ’Cause it looks like it. I honestly don’t hear any kazoo, mandolin, or sax, all of which they credit themselves with playing. Huh.

A: Who knows? Okay, now we’re up to “Holy Shit,” which is like 45 seconds long and actually pretty decent. These songs go by quickly.

J: This is like, super speedcore or something. If you play it at 33 instead of 45 it kind of sounds like nu-metal. Hilarious.

A: There goes the A side. The next track is “Fuck Your Speclogics.” Is that a word? I don’t think it’s a word.

J: “Misplaced Suicide Notes” just sounds like nu-metal in general. It’s kind of funny to read their little blurb on the cover hating on screamo [hardcore emo] because when they actually made the album in 1994 this music was still considered “fresh”…Except they just left it under their beds or something for eight years and then decided to do a 500-copy limited vinyl release. Why do we even own this?

A: ’Cause it obviously rules. Also, half of the “thanks to” section on the back says “RIP” next to it. What the hell?

J: Maybe those are old defunct bands that they knew/were a part of. God, Courier is a bad typeface to use.

A: I’m fairly sure this band doesn’t care about design at all. Look at them. Uh, this next song is a Negative Approach cover. But it sounds the same as all the others. Some of these riffs sound kind of like Slayer.

J: Oh! There’s all that kazoo/mandolin/sax shit. Five seconds’ worth.

A: It was a good five seconds, though. And the last track, “Why Do You Insist I Need College To Validate My Life, Fucker?” is like seven seconds long and has only those lyrics. I like it — strong finish for the record.

J: Amazing. It speaks to me.