Mikaiah and Anaiah Lei of The Bots are used to throwing people off. For starters, the two brothers are of mixed Taiwanese and Caribbean descent. Their complexion and hair texture often leads to them they’re being mistaken as black, which, in the past has led to some assuming they make rap music. They don’t.

Nor do they craft electronic beats, like so many other aspiring musicians born in the early ’90s (the Disclosure brothers, Howard and Guy Lawrence come to mind).

No. The Lei brothers have carved a decidedly analog path to early fame—playing punked-up garage rock tunes, like “All I Really Want”—a rollicking, fuzzed-out lamentation of modern life, which sounds a lot more like Jim Carroll than Calvin Harris.

“I love rock music,” Mikaiah says. “As long as you’re using a real instrument to produce the music you’re hearing, you’re on the right path in my mind.”

The Lei brothers, who are just entering their 20s, grew up in Southern California listening to the reggae and oldies their parents played—and later to the punk and post punk their father turned them on to. It didn’t take long for them to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives.

“Music has always been interesting for us and we’ve always wanted to do it,” Anaiah says. “At least for as long as I could remember. There was never a moment where we thought otherwise.”

The Bots have essentially always been band mates. From the moment they were born, they’ve been moving toward the same goal. Considering this, perhaps it’s no surprise that they’ve achieved recognition at such a young age. The duo played Vans Warped tour before either of them turned 20, and are currently on tour with Deftones, Incubus and Death From Above 1979—pushing their debut full-length album, which they recorded with Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ guitarist, Nick Zinner.

It’s not hard to figure out what attracted Zinner to The Bots. They’ve got a sound that harks back to The Stooges and the New York garage rock revival of the early aughts, of which Zinner and Co. were an integral part.

The Bots also effortlessly capture the anxiety and apathy of the millennial generation. “Make a cup of tea, sit down, stare at the screen,” guitarist and vocalist Mikaiah deadpans on “All I Really Want.” “Until I see something that relates to me, but it’s all so boring.”

“All I really, really want is you,” the chorus proclaims, seeming to ache for real human interaction, for real instruments, for anything real—but ultimately coming up short, a longing foreshadowed in the song’s opening lines: “I feel like life has lied to me.”

The Bots open for Incubus, Deftones and Death From Above 1979 at Shoreline Amphitheatre on Aug. 26.

At the turn of the millennium, popular music was heading into a dark place. Cheesy boy bands and bling-obsessed hip-hop ruled MTV, and the only rock music cracking the Top 40 was abysmal—literally and figuratively. Fortunately, we had Incubus and Deftones.

The passion and punk-rock energy that sparked the grunge movement had faded and been co-opted by corporate interests. Major labels were signing bands like Nickelback, Three Doors Down and Stained—who sulked and lashed out angrily without ever saying anything of substance. Other alternative-dial acts were finding success by meshing horrorcore rapping with heavily distorted breakdowns. Leading this pathetic pack were a pair of bands that many would prefer to forget they ever liked: Korn and Limp Bizkit.

Both groups are now associated with the designation “nü metal”—a genre known for its questionable fashion choices, detuned seven-string guitars and ridiculously oversized pedal boards.

However, while many have surely excised the most regrettable titles, such as Life is Peachy and Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water, from their music collections, it is likely that a number of works by nü metal acts survived this purge.

Deftones and Incubus are two California bands that managed to weather the nü metal backlash with aplomb. These bands’ biggest records—Around the Fur, White Pony, Make Yourself and Morning View—scored big radio play in the midst of the millennial music slog, but remain listenable, enjoyable even, to this day.

Additionally, Deftones and Incubus proved incredibly influential for a generation of aspiring musicians. After garage bands stopped trying to sound like Nirvana and Soundgarden, but before they began emulating the likes of Taking Back Sunday and My Chemical Romance, they took their cues from Deftones and Incubus.

Listen to El Cielo by Los Gatos quartet, Dredg, and it’s not hard to hear traces of the atmospheric guitar work of Deftones guitarist, Stephen Carpenter and the ethereal melodies from Chino Moreno.

Or put on the self-titled 2004 LP by San Jose breakouts Strata. The loping bass lines, alternatingly sharp/effects-drenched guitars and ascendant vocals recall the work of Incubus’ rhythm section and its guitarist Mike Einziger, and frontman, Brandon Boyd. And then there’s those  explosive Hey Heys! of “Cocaine (We’re All Going To Hell).” 

None of this is to take away from the great music these local acts produced in the early 2000s—nor is it to call them derivative. Rather, it is simply to pay respect to these two incredibly influential bands—Deftones and Incubus—who stood apart from the pack during the bleak years following Y2K.

Both bands are currently co-headlining a nationwide tour, which comes to Shoreline this week, reminding millennial alternative music fans that it’s always darkest before the dawn.