The '80s were a wonderful decade for music, if an unusual one. Lots of synth, new wave weirdness, “Africa” by Toto, et cetera. Wild stuff. It was during this time that alternative rock (then called “college rock”) was forged out of a distaste for the soulless hair metal that was at the center of the zeitgeist. It was difficult, but I managed to single out the ten best albums from this era.

10. The Replacements - Let It Be

When the Replacements released Let It Be in 1984, it caught their fans by surprise. It was a much softer, more subdued effort than their previous hardcore punk efforts, and it’s better off for it - the record is wholly sincere and human, and a clear ancestor of modern-day emo: “Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m satisfied,” Paul Westerberg cries out defeatedly on “Unsatisfied.” It must have been a breath of fresh air for young punks in the early 80’s who felt alienated by the hyper-macho aggression of Black Flag and the anarchic craze of Dead Kennedys, and, continually discovered by younger generations, still proves to be a cathartic listen.

9. Pixies - Surfer Rosa

This was one of Kurt Cobain’s favorite albums, second only to the Stooges’ Raw Power. That should speak volumes. It’s easy to see just how much of Nirvana’s sound was copped from the Pixies’ unique brand of rock; abrasive, unhinged tunes with quiet verses and loud, frenetic choruses. Enigmatic frontman Black Francis howls his way through this record with reckless abandon, occasionally slipping into Spanish (“Vamos a jugar por la playa” remains one of the most infectious choruses in the indie canon) and frequently peppering his vocal delivery with squeals and bellows, making for one of the most instantly identifiable voices out there.

8. The Chameleons - Script of the Bridge

Criminally overlooked due to living in the shadow of post-punk giants Joy Division, Echo and the Bunnymen, and Bauhaus, to name a few, this record epitomizes everything that was great about the genre: somber moods, punchy basslines, dance-like rhythms, melodramatic vocals. Only Mark Burgess could sell lines as hammy like “I must have cried a thousand times feeling less than human.”

7. The Jesus and Mary Chain - Psychocandy

Drenched in layers of fuzz and reverb, and with pop hooks straight out of the Brill Building, this debut from the wild-haired Scottish group (who just recently released their first track in 18 years) laid the groundwork for countless noise bands that came after it, just as the Velvet Underground’s White Light/White Heat did for it two decades prior. Released in 1985 amid the clean jangle pop of The Smiths and R.E.M., likely nobody could have guessed that the unusual marriage of earsplitting guitar pedal overuse and Ronettes-inspired songwriting would sound so good. But there it is. Its influence can be felt in so much that followed it; Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, Lightning Bolt.

6. Camper Van Beethoven - Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart

These guys from Redlands, California are considered by so many to be one-hit wonders, primarily only known for their psych-rock cover of Status Quo’s “Pictures of Matchstick Men.” It’s a shame because their discography is full of gems - most significantly, this 1988 record, undoubtedly their peak. It’s a genre-hopping, sunbaked road trip through the arid American southwest, full of folk traditionals, macabre tales of intoxicated cowboys, and pre-Beck alt-country jams, wrapped up in a neat forty-minute package.

5. The Smiths - The Queen Is Dead

Without a doubt the most popular album on this list. The Smiths, for their entire career, were the epitome of almost comical drama and overblown sorrow - but they made it work. Morrissey’s penchant for bouts of narcissism and verbose, ego-stroking self-pity should turn listeners away, but instead, we’re drawn in by bombastic lines like ”And if a double-decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die” when we should be marveling at their ridiculousness.

4. Talking Heads - Stop Making Sense

Is it okay to include a live album on this list? Talking Heads’ iconic 1984 concert is totally deserving of this spot. By expanding the group from its usual four-piece to a nine-piece, complete with congas and backup singers, every song from the band’s catalog is drastically improved upon. Listen to the rendition of “Burning Down the House” in all its punk-funk jitteriness, ripe with synths and booming percussion. It’s got a much fuller sound than the adequate, albeit more cramped studio version on Speaking in Tongues. The same can be said for all nine tracks (sixteen on the glorious expanded version); they’re tremendous improvements on their studio album counterparts, thanks in large part to the unwavering energy the entire ensemble brings.

3. Jonathan Richman - Modern Lovers ‘88

After cementing his place in proto-punk history with his early 70’s group the Modern Lovers, Bostonian Jonathan Richman broke away from the primitive two-chord garage rock aesthetics of “Roadrunner” and cultivated a softer, more rockabilly-influenced sound. His solo records (some released under the name “Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers” but consisting of different lineups assembled post-70’s) became known for their joie de vivre and simplicity, with odes to ice cream, beaches, cars, and organic food. He reached his peak on Modern Lovers ‘88, possibly the happiest album ever recorded. Seemingly nothing can bring Richman down; he sings with such sincerity that it’s near impossible to catch at least some of his contagious optimism. On “New Kind of Neighborhood” he revels in the possibilities of new ventures in new places with new people; on “California Desert Party” he conjures up images of freewheeling nights spent among the cacti and the coyotes. The only lyrics in “Gail Loves Me” are “Gail loves me.” The way he sings them, the song doesn’t need any more.

2. Pixies - Doolittle

“Got me a movie, I want you to know / Slicin’ up eyeballs, I want you to know.” So begins the Pixies’ 1989 follow-up to Surfer Rosa. It’s a reference to an infamous eyeball-slicing scene in Un chien andalou, a surrealist short film by Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí. Much as that film’s intention was to provoke, shock, and stir up confusion with its transgressive content, the Pixies seemed determined to turn heads and start a commotion - song after song on Doolittle, convention is thrown out the window. The riffs frequently dip into the most oddly satisfying kind of atonality; the bizarre caterwauling Black Francis honed on the previous album is in top form. Kim Deal’s bass never sounded better. The lyrical themes are unabashedly lurid, ranging from stories of biblical seduction to environmentalism and humanity to tattoos and half-man monstrosities.

1. Violent Femmes - Violent Femmes

Released in 1982 and predating folk-punk descendants AJJ and Bright Eyes by two decades, this debut record from the Milwaukee trio is a bona fide classic. Where to begin? It’s a quintessential candidate for the “all killer, no filler” title music snobs use to judge albums - every track here is single-worthy. Few frontmen, bar maybe Pinkerton-era Rivers Cuomo, have ever sounded as unfiltered and as earnest as Gordon Gano does, emotively wailing his heart-on-sleeve confessionals about unrequited love and alienation. There’s something to be said about the fact that a tune as simple, minimalist, and straight up geeky as “Blister in the Sun” has remained a staple of every alt-rock station and Spotify/Pandora/whatever playlist, among the likes of Nirvana and R.E.M. It’s remarkably timeless; with its earthy, twangy sound and eminently relatable declarations of adolescent angst, not once on this record does its age become apparent. These tunes could be released today and sound ahead of their time.