LISTS: Worst geographically named bands

It's an axiom of rock 'n' roll that bands that take their identities from proper names of places are certain to be wretched. It doesn't matter whether the geographic reference is real (Boston) or fictional (Styx). But who is the worst of the worst? We break it down for you, starting with bands with the smallest "land area" and building out. (Links go to YouTube clips.)

WORST CITY

CHICAGO: The brassy jazzy-funk that the band made its name with in the 1970s was bad enough. (Their Roman numeral album titles were irritating too.) Then they went soft with a string of early 1980s ballads such as "Hard Habit To Break." Their attempts to maintain their AOR credibility with "Stay the Night" fell flat as singer Peter Cetera proved himself to be fake rocker similar to Billy Joel and Dennis DeYoung.

WORST STATE

KANSAS: As dull as the shape of the state its named for, this not-so-clever band sought to offer great profundity with "Dust in the Wind." But such nihilistic sophistry was annoying, not enlightening, and ultimately insulting to the audience. "Carry on Wayward Son," the band's other warhorse, is a seemingly endless amalgam of bad '70s guitar crunch, keyboard stabs and insufferable harmonies.

WORST NATION

AMERICA: "A Horse with No Name" is third-rate poetry, with a vocal that tries to fool listeners into thinking they are hearing Neil Young. And that's the high point of this band's career. America was actually three British guys, and they somehow managed to string together a chart run in the early 1970s by tagging along to the singer/songwriter trend of the time. Like Chicago, America used a gimmick in the naming of albums — by choosing a word with the letter H, culminating in the inevitable greatest hits collection, "History."

WORST CONTINENT

ASIA: The term "supergroup" was born with Cream. It died with Asia, or it should have. The band consisted of a collection of refugees from art-rock wretchedness such as Yes and Emerson, Lake and Palmer. "Heat of the Moment" was a slice of calculated bombast that briefly made Asia one of the biggest bands on the planet. (It was later put to good use in "The 40-Year-Old Virgin.") Predictably, the band faded amid lineup changes and ego clashes. Just as predictably, a reunion is under way. "The Smile Has Left Your Eyes" wins the award for most awkward song title of the 1980s, followed closely by "The Sun Always Shines on TV" by a-ha.