True Alternative: The Top 100 Songs of the ’90s Underground
30. Archers of Loaf – “Web in Front”
from Icky Mettle (1993; Atlas)
More punk than Pavement, more gruff than Superchunk, and way more stoned than Fugazi, Archers of Loaf didn’t fit any easy indie rock archetypes, and that includes their biography—frontman Eric Bachmann was a saxophone major at Appalachian State University, of all unlikely origin stories. But the music they played was precisely the kind of hook-driven, noise-caked, beautifully fucked rock music that every indie rock band should strive to make. “Web in Front,” the leadoff track on their debut album Icky Mettle, is a perfect introduction to an immaculately imperfect band: Two minutes of feelings, misunderstandings, riffs, screeches and a refrain written to be shouted back at them by their audience: “All I ever wanted was to be your spine!” So, it’s a love song, naturally, but one that only a band of roughhousing outcasts could pen. Bachmann even offered a disclaimer within: “There’s a chance that things’ll get weird.” Yeah, it’s a possibility—and a risk worth taking. – JT
29. Slint – “Good Morning, Captain”
from Spiderland (1991; Touch & Go)
Louisville’s short-lived quartet Slint have a habit of getting slapped with the label of being the “seminal” post-rock band. And, while they undoubtedly influenced a lot of bands who get roped into that genre label, it’s also a narrative that tends to sell the band short. After all, we’re talking about a group that came from punk rock roots (note the Touch & Go association) and went on to play in acts as diverse as Tortoise, the Breeders and Will Oldham’s Palace Music. On “Good Morning, Captain,” the nearly eight-minute closer to Spiderland, it’s easy to hear that diversity. It’s a strange, brooding track at first; a clunky rhythm circling Brian McMahan’s understated vocals, fitting for a story about a captain lost at sea. But Slint are quick to grow in intensity, letting the tension build up until the last two minutes, when they let it all fly. Amid a breathtaking breakdown and longing screams of “I miss you!“, it’s easy to mistake that you’ve been transported to a different world, or at least the next track. But no, you aren’t lost; this is just a glimpse into the expansive, influential world of Spiderland. – ATB
28. Bettie Serveert – “Tom Boy”
from Palomine (1992; Guernica)
This classic lost gem from the ’90s indie rock scene comes from the Amsterdam four-piece Bettie Serveert, named after the Dutch tennis ace Bettie Stove. Their jangly college-radio style is typical of this single’s 1992 release date, although it is rarely heard with such conviction and sass. They purveyed a carefully controlled aesthetic, one that survived for two decades after this initial breakthrough, which earned them comparisons them with fellow Matador acts such as Yo La Tengo and Pavement. Pair that up with the clarity and tinge of melancholy of frontwoman Carol van Dijk, and they were onto a winning formula from the start. Support slots with Jeff Buckley and Counting Crows followed, but it was always this debut single that captured them at their finest. – MP
27. Sonic Youth – “Dirty Boots”
from Goo (1990 DGC)
While not as acclaimed (to the point of near-deification) as Daydream Nation or as financially successful as Dirty, Goo is nonetheless considered one of Sonic Youth’s peak records by many listeners. Opening track “Dirty Boots” is sort of a template for what follows in the album, as it blends the riff-driven (dare we say catchy?) aspects of the band with its more formless, no wave/noise-indebted roots. “Boots” builds up from an ambient start into hard-charging verses, and just around the three-minute mark when you think it’s found its peak with the “dirty BOOTS!” shout-along and Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo go crazy with some back-and-forth almost-soloing, it fades into a wandering, kind of ethereal jam. Even when Sonic Youth was at the top of the musical world, they wouldn’t concede to being cookie-cutter. – LG
26. Nirvana – “Sliver”
from “Sliver” single (1990; Sub Pop)
Leave it to Kurt Cobain to mention “mashed potatoes” on a track and sound angry about it. Released in 1990 as a single, “Sliver” was a foreshadowing of the grunge to come—heavy guitars, near-screaming vocals and punchy drums. It’s a hard-hitting track, sprinkled with hints of an occasional happy moment, but for the most part the song has an overwhelming sense of unrest and anxiety. Released by Sub Pop a year before the release of Nevermind, it was the last of the band’s proper singles to not break the charts. Needless to say, when DGC re-released the track a year after Nevermind (as part of the rarities compilation Incesticide), it didn’t have the same issue. – VC
25. Tricky – “Aftermath”
from Maxinquaye (1995; Island)
Tricky’s descent into a unique, strange and dark trip-hop underworld began with Massive Attack in the early ’90s, of which he was an early member. But when he played his first solo single, “Aftermath,” for the rest of the group, they passed on it, unimpressed with his production abilities. So he released it himself in a limited-edition, lo-fi vinyl version that NME described as “just bassline and hiss.” With the chance to re-release it in conjunction with his debut album Maxinquaye, Tricky’s “Aftermath” took on new life as a smoky, heavily dub-influenced dream-hop, marked by the ethereal presence of singer Martina Topley-Bird, who brought a certain lightness and accessibility to Tricky’s otherwise dank and eerie vibes. It’s unsettling, and yet it’s the jam; Tricky is complicated like that. – JT
24. The Posies – “Dream All Day”
from Frosting on the Beater (1993; DGC)
Good gracious, this album. I stumbled upon Frosting on the Beater when writing for my college newspaper and played it to absolute death; I still crack it open occasionally now, 20-plus years on. It was lilting power-pop under a haze of grunge fuzz, and in a perfect world it would have lifted this band from near Seattle (!) up to the day’s heights of Matthew Sweet and Sugar. The closest they got was this opening song, a relentlessly melodic paean to unrealized potential (!!) that cracked MTV rotation and a minor chart here and there. Everything about this song and LP was just about perfect. Thanks to label interference, fights on tour, and shifts in band sound, nothing would be the same afterwards. – AB
23. Spiritualized – “Cop Shoot Cop”
from Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating in Space (1997; Dedicated)
The apocalyptic closing track on Spiritualized’s 1997 masterwork Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space, “Cop Shoot Cop” is 17 minutes of fury. Starting with a patient but impending piano-led blues cycle, and nihilistic lyrical imagery (piano and backing vocals provided by New Orleans R&B icon Dr. John), the song strains, finally buckling under the pressure at around the six-minute mark. The storm cloud breaks, and Jason Pierce leads a cacophony of guitars and synths through a sustained burst of screeching, whistling and howling, a shamanic purge of congealed frustration. Dr. John regains control of the track for its final portion, and if the howling ends, the menace doesn’t. His prowling piano and Pierce’s defeated lyrics bring this epic song and album to a solemn, forbidding close. – MP
22. Jimmy Eat World – “Lucky Denver Mint”
from Clarity (1999; Capitol)
At the time, nobody much cared for the word “emo,” particularly those who actually played it. Sensitive punk rock for boys with feelings? Ick—who wants that?! Chalk it up to poor marketing: Emo didn’t do anything that mainstream rock or country didn’t already do, but bands like Sunny Day Real Estate and The Get Up Kids just did it with more complex time signatures and elaborate arrangements. Arizona’s Jimmy Eat World might have been the most self-aware band in that respect, actually having referenced John Mellancamp in a 2001 song (not to mention frontman Jim Adkins’ recent performance with Taylor Swift). Eventually the mainstream caught up with them, but 1999’s “Lucky Denver Mint” finds them still looking up at the stars from the hood of a car in a vacant lot. The single is a breathtaking rush of chugging guitar and heavenly vocal harmonies, with a protagonist that wants so desperately to see past the hood ornament, but has serious doubts about being able to make it there. “You’re not better than this,” Adkins sings, in what’s either the song’s most devastating or most inspirational line. That line between hope and desperation is universal, whatever you want to call it. – JT
21. Cocteau Twins – “Cherry-Coloured Funk”
from Heaven or Las Vegas (1990; 4AD)
This was the first song that drew me into what would become one of my favorite bands—and no doubt that of anyone else entranced and intoxicated by shimmering dream-pop textures. Heaven or Las Vegas is not only a chief contender for the best Cocteau Twins album, but could be considered on a list of the greatest albums of all time. While Elizabeth Fraser still sounds like a fairy queen peaking on MDMA, her vocal lines on “Cherry-coloured Funk” are some of the more hooky and conventional in her career. The song carries a narcotic throb and blissful intentions. There have been many imitators, but this is a sublime moment in time that can never be replicated. – WL
Perhaps it’s a perversion on my part but I read a lot of these lists. I say perversion because I often hate this kind of list yet read every one. Most are pretty obvious with just enough off the beaten path selections to make the reader sense a larger depth. This by far is the most thoughtful list I’ve ever read. I know fewer of the track than on any other list I’ve read but the ones I know I love. It makes me want to explore so much music that is new to me, which should be the purpose of every such list. All I can say is Thank You.
The fact that this list is spread out among 10 pages, and not even to flood me with stupid ads like many spam sites do, is absolutely baffling. Excellent list, shame on you for making me click 9 times for nothing. (and by “you” i more mean the admins for this website. I’m sure KC Mars wouldn’t do that to the world)
My bad- KC is a person commenting, not the original publisher.
The most seamless integration of Bob Mould’s Huskers-era merciless guitar attack with his Sugar-era sense of accessibility, with one of his best lyrics to boot. Should’ve been about 50x bigger a hit than it was, but you could say the same about how many dozens of other songs Mould released in his first decade-and-a-half?
No Uncle Tupelo? That essentially negates this as anything that can be taken seriously.
This list seems to willfully omit any act that was once considered a darling of alternative music but then for shame attained any level of broader success….
I agree. What’s wrong with music that people actually like to listen to?
It’s all there in the opening paragraphs. We wanted to highlight some lesser known stuff. No disrespect to any bigger artists of the ’90s, which we certainly enjoy, we just tried something different this time, and ended up with 100 songs that look a little different than your usual ’90s tracks list. Hope you can enjoy it anyway!
I don’t understand the hate – this is an awesome list! An eclectic sample platter of underground 90’s jams – with well-thought out commentary. “Leave it to Kurt Cobain to include mash potato in a song and sound angry doing so” – hilarious.
I grew up in the 90s first learning how to navigate music and find what I loved. This list brought me right back to intravenous childhood. Thanks.