I did this for the 80’s. Now I’m doing it for the 90’s.
10. Duster - Stratosphere
Slowcore in space. At once comforting and depressing, this 1998 release can be enjoyed either as nighttime background music or as a focused listen. Either way, it’s rewarding - its atmosphere is haunting, its consistency remarkable.
9. Pixies - Trompe le Monde
Almost completely overshadowed by Surfer Rosa and Doolittle, the twin giants of the Pixies’ discography, the final album from the original lineup takes the band’s trademark freak-punk sound and makes it more accessible. In this case, this isn’t a bad thing at all. While Bossanova (usually considered the better of the two post-Doolittle albums) suffers from repetition (too much surf pop), Trompe le Monde is more diverse and thus, more compelling.
“Alec Eiffel” fuses punk with synth hooks; “Letter to Memphis” is arguably the group’s most straightforward rock song. “Motorway to Roswell” features dreamy oohs and aahs, completely unlike the group. There’s even a Jesus and Mary Chain cover (“Head On”).
8. Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
I’m getting this one out of the way because one, you knew it would be on here, and two, I am completely and totally obligated to put it on this list on principle - I couldn’t leave it out. That’s not to say I don’t feel strongly about it, though; despite the fact that it’s become a punchline, it still holds up so well. Forget the fact that it’s become synonymous with that picture of the bearded guy listening to a portable Crosley in a Starbucks - it’s cohesive, and full of wonderful melodies and moods.
7. Built to Spill - Perfect from Now On
The songs on this third album from the Idaho indie rockers are glacially slow, both in runtime (the shortest track clocks in at nearly five minutes) and in tempo. They give the listener the peaceful feeling of wading through water, or, in the case of “Kicked It in the Sun,” melting away in summer heat. The interplay between vocalist/guitarist Doug Martsch, bassist Brett Nelson, and drummer Scott Plouf never becomes less than enthralling.
6. Guided by Voices - Bee Thousand
Bee Thousand, at a whopping 20 tracks, has much to offer - Robert Pollard’s nasally vocal delivery can easily be seen through as a wannabe John Lennon ripoff, but other than that, this album is psych pop goodness through and through. The lyrics might be opaque at times (“Slay the beast and win the cup, and stay with the sweet flesh prize / A necklace of 50 eyes is yours to keep”), but the melodies are so clear and memorable they shine through the walls of fuzz and bedroom studio-caliber sound quality.
5. Catch 22 - Keasbey Nights
If not for this cult classic, your memories of your high school ska phase would likely be much more distant and much more laughable. Hyperliterate frontman Tomas Kalnoky’s picture of a grimy, depressed northern New Jersey strays far from much of his third-wave ska contemporaries - let’s be honest, Reel Big Fish’s “we’re so cynical and we hate you and fuck everything and we like drinking” shtick gets old pretty quickly.
Kalnoky’s bitter too, yeah, but not in a way that begs for laughter - his grievances come off as much more genuine. The title track’s damn near iconic chorus is perfect for singalongs at shows: “When they come for me I’ll be sitting at my desk with a gun in my hand wearing a bulletproof vest singin’ ‘My, my, my, how the time does fly when you know you’re going to die by the end of the night,’ and said hey.”
4. Weezer - Pinkerton
If you have ever been a teenager and if you have ever cried about anything, you have probably enjoyed (or would enjoy) Pinkerton. It’s a young agoraphobe’s best friend, and a pivotal listening experience for anyone who discovers it at the right time. It’s fitting that Rivers Cuomo was once embarrassed by this album - "It's a hideous record. … It was such a hugely painful mistake that happened in front of hundreds of thousands of people and continues to happen on a grander and grander scale and just won't go away.
It's like getting really drunk at a party and spilling your guts in front of everyone and feeling incredibly great and cathartic about it, and then waking up the next morning and realizing what a complete fool you made of yourself," he said of it in a 2001 interview with Entertainment Weekly. Much as he looked back on this album with disgust (and, eventually, came to embrace anew), most of us look back on our adolescent years and cringe uncontrollably. The album, then, works well as a reminder of how sad and awkward we all used to be.
3. Slint - Spiderland
The circumstances behind this album’s conception are so ridiculous it’s impossible to see it as anything less than lightning in a bottle. Here were a bunch of high school kids from Kentucky, raised on Minutemen and Hüsker Dü, dicking around in a grumpy Steve Albini’s studio - their first release, Tweez, amounted to little more than belching noises and some riffs that some music critics somewhere have probably called “angular.” That they conceived Spiderland after that record is almost a miracle - the Big Black-lite riffs were traded for sparse, syncopated melodies, the bodily function noises traded for Brian McMahan’s atmospheric spoken word short stories.
They fucked with the formula so much, they became something entirely new - people call this “post-rock,” but i’m not sure it fits today’s description of that genre. It’s wholly unique, and, 26 years later, there still isn’t much that sounds like it (despite having influenced countless emo groups). It also has one of, if not the best album closers ever - “Good Morning, Captain”’s cathartic “I MISS YOU” climax is stunning and unforgettable.
2. Radiohead - OK Computer
I had difficulty choosing between this and The Bends (Kid A and Amnesiac came out in the early 2000s and thus weren’t contenders). As good as The Bends is, this comes out on top - all of the wild praise it gets from those who call it “the greatest musical achievement of the 20th century” is only half hyperbolic. It’s pretty close to that.
This record - I’ve said this a thousand times, and I’ll say it again - this record could come out next week and it would still sound ahead of its time. It is so uncannily prescient, in sound and in lyrical themes - the richly textured prog-influenced alternative rock is still fresh, and the negative utopia of globalization, political malaise, and social alienation depicted in the twelve songs only comes off as more knowing as time goes on.
I have absolutely no problem with calling “Paranoid Android” a masterpiece, a perfect song - ingeniously constructed and constantly surprising.
1. The Dismemberment Plan - Emergency and I
If blink-182 writes anthems for teenagers, then The Dismemberment Plan writes anthems for twentysomethings - young people mired in college, adjusting to post-high school life and the myriad of responsibilities that come with it, grappling with existential quandaries, aging and not being able to do anything about it. Since their genesis in ‘93, frontman Travis Morrison has always been particularly skilled at capturing these niche sentiments and emotions.
Emergency and I, the group’s third record, is their apex - absolutely overflowing with lines that poke and prod at the malaise that people of that age experience. “What Do You Want Me to Say?”’s narrator feels they’re walking on eggshells with their significant other.
“Memory Machine” pines for immortality with no emotional repercussions: “There are times I think eternal life ain’t such a bad gig / Smoke all you want and see the planets if and only if they find a way to cure the longing, the distant panic.” The expression of complex thoughts fits well with the math rock-y sound - these time signatures constantly change, those intricate riffs constantly impress. This album truly hasn't aged a minute.