In name checking anyone –specifically a politically charged, murdered man – grants fans and listeners entrance to a group’s general thought process. Most of the time, at least.

Harvey Milk, the person and not the band, was the first openly gay man elected to a major public office when he won a seat on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors. Of course, even the fact that he made it through the election process in one piece is somewhat shocking in hindsight. But he was soon rubbed out by a disgruntled co-worker who was having a few issues. Milk’s sexuality surely played a role in his death, but there were other contributing factors.

Regardless of the exact reason for his death – senseless as it was – an Athens, Georgia based band took up his banner during the early ‘90s, more than a decade after his death. Considering the place that the trio comes from, although liberal when contrasted to the general perception of the South, is still a part of that cultural milieu. It’s not to say that Southerners by default aren’t gay-friendly, but the general perception of the South isn’t always the most inviting.

In addition to the fact that being Georgians and tapping a martyred, gay man as a namesake seems odd, the music that Harvey Milk trucks in wouldn’t necessarily be connected to gay culture – even if band members aren’t gay themselves. Hardcore and metal don’t generally find connections to the gay community – Pansy Division perhaps coming closest as a group of East Bay Punkers. So the mangled guitar and thrashing rhythm section that Harvey Milk sports is somewhat surprising as well.

In noting that, however, the band clearly has antecedents in the Seattle scene prior to grunge being codified. And even when referencing the Melvins it’s worth a moment to conjure either EYEHATEGOD or Corrosion of Conformity in the broadest terms when discussing Harvey Milk.

Releasing six albums – that includes the pre and post break-up configurations – Harvey Milk’s been able to find a pretty broad audience. The proliferation of stoner rock probably didn’t hurt. But on the ensemble’s first disc, the 1994 My Love Is Higher Than Your Assessment of What My Love Could Be, there’s enough tossed off supplemental influence as to make the lighter moments as interesting as the heavy ones.

There really doesn’t need to be too much discussion of tempo since everything that the band does – from “My Father's Life Work” to “Jim's Polish” – comes in at roughly the same pacing. There’s a consistency in the nasty, skull drudgery that the band moves around in. And even as the latter track cranks up the tempo for a brief moment, the heft with which the guitar and bass are sent through stereos renders it all a plodding, metal mess.

Finding life again during the second half of the aughties, Harvey Milk has had its work re-issued and toured a bit. Whether or not the trio decides to push ahead and gig with the bands that its influenced remains to be seen. And heard.