At the beginning of the summer, Blink-182 and Green Day joined forces for what had to be the biggest co-headlining tour in the annals of modern punk. But those two bands spent the rest of the year taking it easy, and that left a void in the commercial-punk scene for the legions of groups that followed in their wake to fill. New Found Glory were the first to fit the bill, selling a half-million copies of their second major-label album, Sticks and Stones (MCA). Now two more bands are joining the race. Sum 41 have just released Does This Look Infected?, the follow-up to their platinum breakthrough, All Killer No Filler (both Island). And Good Charlotte have already gone gold with their second disc, The Young and the Hopeless (Epic), which came out on October 1.

All three bands are in their early 20s, which means they were in high school when Green Day showed that a group of punk kids could sell millions of albums without changing much about the way they write songs or play live. These days, it’s easier than ever for a punk band to sign a major-label deal, and the main thing that sets rock stars like Sum 41 and Good Charlotte apart from their underground peers is the sound of their albums. Today’s corporate-punk producers value airplay over street cred: Good Charlotte’s Eric Valentine learned that by working with Third Eye Blind, and New Found Glory’s Neal Avron cut his teeth with Everclear. Sum 41’s Greig Nori would love to have joined the two of them in the late-’90s alterna-rock hit brigade, but he was relegated to the fringes as the frontman of Toronto’s Treble Charger.

Nori doubles as Sum 41’s manager — which means he deserves much of the credit for turning a bunch of unruly kids from the outskirts of Toronto into the biggest punk success story since Blink-182. On All Killer No Filler, he ceded production duties to pop-punk mastermind Jerry Finn (Blink-182, Rancid), who put the band’s hooks up front and let their sense of humor run wild. Green Day were the obvious inspiration behind "Fat Lip" and "Motivation," the album’s breakthrough anthems of defiance and boredom. The third single, "In Too Deep," was one of the disc’s few disappointments, a generic break-up song aimed directly at commercial rock radio.

Skatepunk is Sum 41’s true love, but the metal spoof "Pain for Pleasure" was one of the most endearing moments on All Killer No Filler. On "Still Waiting," the first single from Does This Look Infected?, the band’s ’80s thrash riffs are so authentic, you know they can’t possibly be joking anymore. Frontman Deryck gets all worked up about a world that won’t stop hating, and guitarist Dave pounds the song’s Offspring melodies into submission with some devastating moves out of the Metallica playbook. The boys belt out their sweetest harmonies on the chorus, but it’s their headbanging rhythms that make the biggest impression.

One place Sum 41 aren’t making much of an impression these days is at retail: Does This Look Infected? landed at #32 on the Billboard Top 200 album chart after a disappointing opening week. Like most high-profile rock releases, it should sell respectably in the long run. But despite producer Nori’s pop pedigree, one thing is clear: the disc isn’t as commercial as its predecessor. Deryck’s vocals are lower in the mix, the choruses aren’t as obvious as they used to be, and the tempos are juiced to near-hardcore levels. In other words, it sounds less like a pop album and more like a punk album.

But it’s a good punk album, and it’s hard to blame the band for refusing to write another hip-hop novelty like "Fat Lip." The opening track, "The Hell Song," picks up where "Still Waiting" left off: Deryck deals with the heartbreak of learning that a friend has contracted HIV, and he and Dave pay tribute with a heroic outpouring of Iron Maiden guitar harmonies. "Over My Head (Better Off Dead)" is a venomous rewrite of "In Too Deep," with sharper hooks and a heavier backbeat. The band borrow expertly from Rancid and Green Day on the anti-suicide anthem "My Direction," which forces Deryck to look on the bright side for once: "Perfection is my direction/Even if that’s all I had/It’s not like I need no correction/I just know that life’s not so bad."

Public drunkenness is another thing Sum 41 have learned well from Green Day, and the band spend much of Does This Look Infected? hungover and paranoid. "Welcome to my own down and out," Deryck grimaces on "Hyper-Insomnia-Para-Condrioid," which sounds prettier than its title suggests. He can’t hold down his meals on "All Messed Up," but he somehow musters up the energy to sing one of the album’s sunniest choruses. Booze is to Sum 41 what girls are to New Found Glory: the love of their lives, and the source of their deepest frustrations.

As "Still Waiting" shows, Sum 41’s rebellious streak hasn’t been tamed yet. Dave’s finest hour as a metalhead comes on another one of Deryck’s anti-establishment songs, "Mr. Amsterdam," which begins and ends with a couple of direct guitar quotes from Metallica. In between, Dave’s inner hardcore kid takes over on the microphone, and Deryck tunefully laments the evils of society on the song’s stellar skatepunk chorus. The band save their biggest surprise for the closing "Hooch," which breaks into tears of heavy-metal guitar joy after a couple of standard high-testosterone choruses. "I’ll fall into you, but don’t believe that this is real," coos Deryck over the quiet guitar melody that ends the album. Sum 41 trade their pop ambitions for punk sincerity this time around, and the results are exhilarating.

Over the last few months, Good Charlotte have given New Found Glory a run for their money as every DIY punk’s favorite whipping boys — and not just because of the sticky-sweet hooks that flavor The Young and the Hopeless. Frontman Joel and guitarist Benji are identical twins whose burgeoning popularity with American teenage girls went through the stratosphere when MTV picked them to host the late-night music-video hour All Things Rock. Like Blink-182, the band have two different clothing lines of their own: Joel and Benji’s Made and guitarist Billy’s Level 27. And Benji’s gutterpunk-chic look is no joke, from his Statue of Liberty hair and mascara to his omnipresent array of underground-band paraphernalia.

Then there’s Good Charlotte’s breakthrough hit, "Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous." It’s a silly takedown of celebrity culture set to the beat of Iggy Pop’s "Lust for Life," with a huge chorus and a couple of cheap laughs at the expense of O.J. Simpson and Marion Barry. Producer Valentine works overtime on the giddy chamber-pop vocal interlude that leads into the chorus, and Hollywood session drummer Josh Freese (who played with the Vandals for years before he started working for people like Axl Rose and Maynard James Keenan) helps thump the song onto Top 40 radio. As for Joel and Benji, they’ve got a pragmatic solution for taking care of whiny celebrities: "If money is such a problem/Well they got mansions/Think we should rob them."

As rock novelty hits go, "Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous" is a blast, but there’s more to Good Charlotte than meets the eye. Joel and Benji grew up poor on the outskirts of DC, and their father walked out on them when they were teenagers. They started the band in high school and made a pilgrimage to the legendary East Bay punk club 924 Gilman Street when they graduated. Newly inspired, they moved to Annapolis, made some friends at corporate-rock radio, and got signed after opening a string of East Coast shows for SoCal pop dudes Lit. Their first album, Good Charlotte (Epic), was made with Lit producer Don Gilmore and yielded the modest hit "Little Things."

All of which explains a lot about the bizarre confluence of underground and mainstream culture on a Good Charlotte song like "The Anthem," which double-references Blink-182 and Jay-Z in the title and goes on to name-check two Minor Threat songs in a single verse. The album’s most blatant pop move, "Girls & Boys," pays tribute to the Blur song of the same name, and it augments its cheery new-wave pulse with an unforgettable teen-punk chorus: "Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money." Joel and Benji don’t have anything to say about Bikini Kill on "Riot Girl," but at least they have the good sense to bash Britney and Christina.

More compelling than Good Charlotte’s teen-punk novelty songs are the pair of tracks on The Young and the Hopeless about the twins’ estranged father. "I don’t know too much about, too much of my old man/I know he walked right out the door, we never saw him again," are the opening lines of the explosive "The Story of My Old Man," which goes on to address, poignantly, the history of alcoholism in the family. And there’s more than a little Social Distortion in the heartbreaking ballad "Emotionless," on which the boys try to come to terms with their father’s absence once and for all.

Good Charlotte put the hard times behind them to the tune of the Who’s "Baba O’Riley" on "Movin’ On," which ends the album on an inspirational note: "Make the best with what you’re given/This ain’t dying, this is living!" Big-money record deals and MTV gigs aside, that’s a sentiment any punk would agree with.