25 Honorable Mentions of the 1990s
Earlier this month, we revealed our list of the 150 Best Albums of the 1990s, which covered as much ground as we possibly could in one self-contained list. But with a decade as rife with innovation and essential records as the ’90s, obviously 150 albums doesn’t tell the whole story. So this week we follow that up with an extension of ’90s-era favorites, with 25 honorable mentions of the 1990s.
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AZ – Doe or Die (1995)
AZ’s Doe or Die is often shorted in the East Coast classics conversation. In 1995, critics received the rapper’s debut album as a companion piece to Nas’ Illmatic, and it’s still often perceived as such. But the honorary “Life’s a Bitch” feature is far from a sidekick or afterthought, and AZ only continues to be deeply respected by peers and mentors. On Doe or Die, the rapper steps into his own and hits a stride. Riding the high he’d found with the reception of “Life’s a Bitch,” AZ channeled a newfound confidence into Doe or Die, one of the best and often overlooked Mafioso rap records of all time. – Patrick Pilch
Bardo Pond – Amanita (1997)
A band at the nexus of space rock and shoegaze, Philadelphians Bardo Pond are known for epic psychedelic excursions that go on as long as they need to in order to finally achieve levitation. Amanita is no different, simultaneously one of their longest full-lengths as well as one that leans more decidedly toward more accessible songwriting. Throughout, the group blankets everything they do in heavy layers of fuzz, syrup thick and prickly to the touch. But within that intoxicating haze are moments like the heady surge of “Tantric Porno,” the carbon monoxide blues of “Wank” and the ever so slightly more delicate “Be A Fish,” revealing the pop sensibility buried beneath the din. – Jeff Terich
Listen/Buy: Spotify | Amazon (vinyl)
Beulah – Handsome Western States (1997)
All hail the 8 track. Beulah’s scrappy 1997 debut Handsome Western States is an unsung archetype of the 90s tape-rock. With access to low-cost recording tools, bands like Beulah were allowed to capture impromptu ideas at prolific rates. While Handsome Western States might deter listeners with its unforgivingly raw production, this record is the genesis for the band’s signature heartfelt ax-and-brass pop and the launchpad for their expanded career. While Beulah’s production cleaned up by 1999’s When Your Heartstrings Break, Handsome Western States captured that zero-fucks lo-fi mentality. Sounds like shit? Perfect, cut it, next. – Patrick Pilch
Listen: Spotify
Boredoms – Super æ (1998)
Easily among the weirdest bands ever to be signed to a major label, Japan’s Boredoms enjoyed an unexpected but nonetheless interesting brush with the mainstream earlier on in the ’90s with a short-lived signing to Reprise and a summer on the Lollapalooza second stage. Their brief alignment with the alternative cultural zeitgeist ended just as they entered their most interesting and satisfying creative period, achieving a thrilling and epic new peak in their mind-bending experimentation with Super æ. Rooted in krautrock, psychedelia and space rock, the group’s 1998 album paired tape experiments with hypnotic drones, surging acid-rock climaxes and orbital cosmic excursions. Anchored by two colossal towers—pulsing dreamscape “Super Going” and surf-psych sing-along (if you can understand the words) “Super Shine”—Super æ revealed the spirituality and unexpected grace within Boredoms’ playful unpredictability. – Jeff Terich
Listen: YouTube
The Cardigans – Gran Turismo (1998)
Tired of being known for “Lovefool” and Nina Persson’s looks, The Cardigans went in the studio for Gran Turismo and made a darker, more deliberate album with undercurrents of electronica only to have most of the world shrug in response. What most people slept on was a slinky set of tracks bitter about being fooled by love, most cuttingly in singles “My Favourite Game” and “Erase/Rewind” or deeper cut standouts like “Do You Believe “ or “Junk of the Hearts”. Their loss. – Butch Rosser
Listen/Buy: Spotify | Amazon (vinyl)
The Dead C – Harsh ’70s Reality
One of the strangest bands to ever have released an album through celebrated New Zealand indie label Flying Nun (that being 1988’s DR503 and 1990’s Eusa Kills), The Dead C seldom recorded music that bore any resemblance to the hook-laden indie pop of their onetime labelmates. Steeped in drone, noise and industrial abstraction, their 1992 album Harsh ’70s Reality captured the Dunedin group’s sound at its most eclectic, unhinged, and strangely beautiful in its ugliness. The album’s title is a nod to the group’s pioneering predecessors such as Throbbing Gristle and This Heat, the latter of whom is more directly referenced in the stark terrorscape of “Suffer Bomb Damage.” But throughout the album’s 81 minutes, they seem to approach sonic abrasion through every possible avenue: sprawling, hypnotic drone on the 22-minute “Driver U.F.O.”, shit-fi quality noise rock bashing session on “Sea Is Violet,” thrumming wall of bass distortion on Velvet Underground nightmare “Constellation,” and feedback-caked lullaby on the bad-trip blues of “Baseheart.” It’s a masterpiece of inscrutability and antagonism, once that has the effect of pulling you closer as it seeks to push you farther away. – Jeff Terich
Listen/Buy: Bandcamp | Amazon (vinyl)
Dr. Octagon – Dr. Octagonecologyst
Kool Keith helped create one of the greatest hip-hop records of the 1980s with Ultramagnetic MCs’ Critical Beatdown—a Class of 1988 essential that lent a hook to The Prodigy’s “Smack My Bitch Up.” But as Kool Keith entered the ’90s, he took on a more surrealist approach to hip-hop, the pinnacle of which was his 1996 sci-fi concept album Dr. Octagonecologyst. Paired with production from Dan the Automator that ran the gamut from space funk to vintage horror, Kool Keith adopted a Jekyll/Hyde-like persona throughout the album, splicing clips from porn flicks between mad-scientist narratives that showcased his lyrical dexterity along with a particularly bizarre sense of twisted fantasy. An album that seemed as if it were on an entirely different plane than most rap records of the era, Dr. Octagonecolegyst still sounds like it was beamed in from the year 3000. – Jeff Terich
Listen: Spotify
Brian Eno – Nerve Net (1992)
In between long stints of ambient experimentation, Brian Eno released a much moodier funky jam session with a deep bench of collaborators. Nerve Net features Robert Fripp, John Paul Jones, Benmont Tench, and Sugarfoot Moffett, just to name a few, supplying a range of instrumental sounds made nearly inscrutable by Eno’s experimental production. Trip-hop and syncopated electro beats often but not exclusively form a contemporaneously pertinent backdrop, while nostalgic Vangelis-y synths and more than just a hint of industrial menace take us on a twisted sonic adventure. This is a weird one to revisit. – Forrest James
Listen: Spotify
En Vogue – Funky Divas (1992)
Conspicuous by its absence on the top 150 list, Divas shows the best girl group of the ’90s at the height of their powers. They showed their reverence of the past by covering Aretha on “Giving Him Something He Can Feel” and The Beatles’ “Yesterday” but also showed off textbook R&B harmonizing on “My Lovin’ (Never Gonna Get It)” and even merged new jack swing with hard rock on the sadly timeless “Free Your Mind.” TLC and Destiny’s Child would find bigger successes later in the decade, but some of the debts they owe are to En Vogue. – Butch Rosser
Listen/Buy: Spotify
PJ Harvey – Is This Desire? (1998)
Two PJ Harvey albums landed on our list of the best of the 1990s, which depending on your perspective on the utility of such lists might render this entry at least partially redundant. Which is an arguable point, but that Polly Jean Harvey never reprised any of her old ideas makes her a uniquely evolutionary artist, as evident on the atmospheric soundscapes and gothic ballads of her 1998 album Is This Desire? Employing character-driven explorations through songs graceful and delicate alongside those that sound like they were built from broken machines, Is This Desire? found Harvey crossing a curious threshold with some of her most boldest experiments and most strangely captivating songwriting. I’m not done writing about this album just yet, but I’ll leave you with this one thought: There’s a reason why Harvey has repeatedly said this album is the one she considers her best. – Jeff Terich
Listen/Buy: Spotify | Rough Trade (vinyl)
Hole – Live Through This (1994)
Live Through This is not only a critical album of the ’90s, but a form of support when I’m feeling cynical and jaded as a woman trying to survive in society. I turn to the album when I’m feeling misunderstood, frustrated and tired—its 12 tracks providing a pure form of catharsis when I need it most. The subject matter of the album covers motherhood, depression, body image struggles, child abuse and suicide; Courtney Love’s approach to these topics shows a fearlessness to sing about darker experiences, and in turn gave words to some of the hardest parts of being a woman. “Asking For It” refers to a 1991 Hole concert where Love’s clothes were ripped off of her while she was crowd surfing. “Doll Parts” dives into the feeling of being seen as nothing more than your own body, and wanting to be enough for everyone who is viewing you. While there are a lot of great punk and rock albums written by women that came out in the ’90s, none have resonated with me in the way that Live Through This has. – Virginia Croft
Listen/Buy: Spotify | Turntable Lab (vinyl)
Main Source – Breaking Atoms (1991)
Most classic hip-hop lineups comprised a ratio of one DJ to anywhere from one to three emcees (see: De La Soul, Run-DMC). Canadian-American group Main Source flipped the math by featuring no fewer than three DJ/producers: K-Cut, Sir Scratch, and Large Professor. And while Large Professor also showcased his lyrical skills on their debut album Breaking Atoms, its place among the greatest rap albums of the ’90s is well earned in large part on the strength of its impeccable production, built not simply out of repetition and one good hook but rather a more holistic approach that employed climactic shifts and rich layers of sound through impeccably curated loops of jazz and soul songs. This album also provided the introduction for a then-17-year-old Nas, who leaves his mark on posse cut “Live at the Barbeque,” a standout among standouts from a group who, even after calling it quits just a few years afterward, still earn their spot in the hall of fame. – Jeff Terich
Listen/Buy: Bandcamp
Mercury Rev – Deserter’s Songs
Mercury Rev’s 1998 album Deserter’s Songs feels worlds apart from the cacophonous chaos of their debut album Yerself Is Steam. In fact, they were a very different band at that point. Singer David Baker had left the group a few years prior, and gradually the group had been paring back the more chaotic elements of their sound. After the disappointing commercial performance of 1995’s See You On the Other Side, they were on the verge of splitting up, and with the intent of making another album just for their own sake, Jonathan Donohue and Grasshopper retreated to the Catskills for one final go, and in the process delivered their prettiest, most lush and dreamily imaginative album. Rife with some of their most breathtaking arrangements on songs like “Opus 40” and “Holes,” soaring melodies on “Goddess on a Hiway” and even some psychedelic weirdness on “Funny Bird,” Mercury Rev crafted their defining album, one that unexpectedly found commercial and critical success alike. – Jeff Terich
Muse – Showbiz (1999)
Before they became a stadium sensation, Muse might have been just another alternative rock band from England but for Matthew Bellamy’s singular voice. The English singer’s croon is undeniably technically impressive, even before considering sex appeal. His dynamic vocal range from whisper to falsetto might singlehandedly drive the band’s attention grabbing force. Here at the beginning, without much of the indulgent embellishment that characterizes their career, we can appreciate that for what it is: a marvel of human ability. – Forrest James
Listen/Buy: Spotify
Poison Idea – Feel the Darkness (1990)
Portland’s Poison Idea never ended up on MTV like Sick of It All or scoring a radio hit like Refused. Yet their furious 1990 hardcore punk anthem “The Badge,” an indictment of police brutality, curiously ended up on the hit soundtrack to The Crow, covered by Texas groove metal legends Pantera. That’s about as much mainstream exposure as Poison Idea ever got, but if listeners of that blockbuster compilation investigated a little deeper, in much the same way that more than a few Nine Inch Nails fans likely discovered Joy Division, they’d have come across one of the greatest punk rock records of the 1990s—or ever, for that matter. Feel the Darkness is as subtle as a U-Haul full of C4, abrasive and antagonistic and frequently delivered with the roar of heavy metal. Yet it just as often showcases the band at their most melodic, as on “Alan’s on Fire” or “Taken by Surprise,” the likes of which provide a blueprint for the progressive hardcore of Fucked Up more than a decade later. It’s an undisputed punk essential, a razor’s edge soundtrack for half pipes and hash pipes alike. – Jeff Terich
Listen/Buy: Bandcamp
Porter Ricks – Biokinetics (1996)
The sound of techno bubbling up from the Marianas Trench, Porter Ricks’ debut album doesn’t sound like it was made for the dancefloor so much as the ocean floor. Spiritually akin to Wolfgang Voigt’s ongoing creations as Gas as well as the ambient techno innovations of Basic Channel, whose Chain Reaction label released the first issue of this album, Biokinetics is more about texture than impact, elegant fluid motion more than four-on-the-floor. Not that you’ll find non-4/4 rhythms here—this isn’t IDM, though it’s certainly sophisticated, thoughtful, meditative. But above all, it’s gorgeously immersive, techno that radiates and ripples more than thumps, its loops gently lapping like a slowly rising tide. – Jeff Terich
Listen/Buy: Bandcamp
Quicksand – Slip
Post-hardcore is as much a description of a career path as it is a style of music. After time spent in the New York hardcore scene as guitarist for Gorilla Biscuits and as bassist for Youth of Today, Walter Schreifels founded Quicksand, a group that took the energy and intensity of those bands but channeled it through more nuanced, groove-based material that was more aligned with bands like their New York peers in Helmet. Slip is a furious debut, rife with dynamics and sophisticated songwriting, but still carrying a heaviness that never shied away from their hardcore roots. – Jeff Terich
Semisonic – Feeling Strangely Fine (1998)
Plenty of Gen-Xers spent some portion of the ’90s making mixtapes in hopes of landing someone; Dan Wilson was writing the sort of anthems and love songs that hit everyone. “Closing Time” is probably what got most people in the door but Fine shows off the sort of power pop quiet storm he’d sail well into the aughts, be it on “Singing in My Sleep,” “DND” or “Secret Smile.” No wonder the likes of the Chicks and Adele would eventually come calling, and he pocketed a Best Country Song Grammy for co-writing a Chris Stapleton tune earlier this year. – Butch Rosser
Listen/Buy: Spotify
Shudder to Think – Pony Express Record (1994)
Veterans of Dischord Records and the Washington, D.C. hardcore scene, Shudder to Think evolved into something very different in short order. The guitar scrape behind songs such as “Hit Liquor” and “9 Fingers on You” still position Pony Express Record as somewhere on the post-hardcore spectrum, but it’s not entirely clear they’re still in the same universe here, taking a playfully experimental approach to the very idea of song structure. Their sort-of-hit “X-French Tee Shirt” employs only two chords throughout its entirety, and “Earthquakes Come Home” seems to deconstruct meter and verse before rising up into a triumphant chorus. Released the same year as Jeff Buckley’s Grace, Pony Express Record is something like an art-punk version of the late singer/songwriter’s debut, in large part because of Craig Wedren’s own stunningly expressive vocals. But it’s a bit noisier, a bit heavier, an ornate rock operetta with a penchant for surges of volume. – Jeff Terich
Listen: Spotify
Sparklehorse – Good Morning Spider (1998)
Sparklehorse’s Mark Linkous wrote and recorded his second album in the aftermath of a 12-week stay at St. Mary’s Hospital in London from a near-fatal drug overdose while on tour with Radiohead, an event that weighs heavy on an album that’s at turns fragile and triumphant. The stark acoustic ballad “Saint Mary” was one of the first songs he wrote for the album, and he sounds fragile as he sings aching lines such as “Blanket me sweet nurse, and keep me from burnin’.” Yet around the same time he wrote opener “Pig,” a fiery rip-snorter of an outlet for his frustrations at his ailing body: “I wanna be horse full of fire that will never train.” Between those two extremes in mood and sound, Linkous finds beauty, joy, sadness and hope amid a set of songs alternately ramshackle and roaring, mostly recorded at his home studio in Richmond, Virginia. But it’s the weirdest and most experimental moments, like the static radio-dial interruptions of what might have been the album’s biggest rock anthem, “Chaos of the Galaxy/Happy Man,” that reveal the late singer/songwriter’s strange and fascinating genius. – Jeff Terich
Sugar – Copper Blue (1992)
Arguably every noisy American band that picked up a guitar in the late ’80s and early ’90s did so after a lengthy soak in the Hüsker Dü catalogue. So, by that measure, Bob Mould should have been overqualified to beat any alternative rock band at their own game. Which he more or less did, artistically if not commercially. Copper Blue, the debut album by Mould’s short-lived but critically admired Sugar, was chunky, distortion- and power-chord-heavy alt-rock that hit every single right note. Streamlined, catchy, even kind of beautiful in its muscularity, Sugar was Hüsker Dü’s carbon-based energy compressed into radio-friendly diamonds. The album’s leadoff track, “The Act We Act,” sets a soaring tone for the nine outstanding tracks to come, from the Pixies homage “A Good Idea” to the churning “Slick” and the infectious “Helpless.” Even in a catalog that includes Zen Arcade, Copper Blue is a genuine contender among Mould’s greatest recorded works. – Jeff Terich
Listen/Buy: Spotify | Rough Trade (vinyl)
Third Eye Blind – Third Eye Blind (1997)
If you hate Third Eye Blind, you’ve probably heard “Semi-Charmed Life” one too many times. Or maybe you hate Stephan Jenkins, the band’s infamous asshole frontman. Megalomaniac behavior aside, the band’s debut is transcendent next to their pop rock contemporaries actively pushing against corporate grunge’s late-90s crest. Third Eye Blind’s deceivingly cheery musicality turned big hooks and “doo-doo-doos” into mega-anthems about suicide and crystal meth. But Third Eye Blind is deeper than the hits; it’s dark, subversive, and at times, totally absurd. If you ever thought “Semi-Charmed Life” was brilliantly stupid (or stupidly brilliant), now’s the perfect time to confirm just how right you are. – Patrick Pilch
Listen/Buy: Spotify | Amazon (vinyl)
Tiger Trap – Tiger Trap (1993)
In 1993, cult K Records outfit Tiger Trap caught lightning in a bottle with their Sour Grass EP and self titled full length. Led by twee legend Rose Melberg, the band pushed sunny punk numbers about cutie pies and pineapple crushes into the radical Pacific Northwest scene. The band’s sole full length is a love letter mixtape, both personal and universal, setting an impressive precedent for twee seldom hit by successors and imitators alike. Named after the very first Calvin and Hobbes comic, Tiger Trap captured mushy-gushy puppy love with an unmatched edge and sophistication. – Patrick Pilch
Listen/Buy: Bandcamp
Tindersticks – Tindersticks (1993)
Nottingham’s Tindersticks released their debut album just as bands like Suede and Blur were dropping some of the defining documents of Britpop. Tindersticks, however, were something different entirely—descended from the lineage of Scott Walker and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, their sound was wrapped in a more sophisticated solution of gothic chamber pop. Where “City Sickness” and “Nectar” provided a hook-laden canvas for Stuart Staples’ honeyed baritone, “Whiskey & Water” and the various permutations of “Blood” revealed something more seductively sinister. That it was named Album of the Year by Melody Maker was something of a surprise given British popular music’s landscape at the time, but more than 30 years later, it’s that detachment from both trend and era—and its darkly elegant songcraft—that makes it so enduring. – Jeff Terich
Listen: Spotify
Emilíana Torrini – Love in the Time of Science (1999)
It would be easy to dismiss Emilíana Torrini’s international debut as a commercial anomaly, merely responding to the ’90s trip-hop trend that seems less than suitable for her soft voice. But that impulse and resulting incongruity happened to create a delightful array of understated art-pop. Torrini’s mellow vocals belie deceptively sweeping compositions, drawing as much from Pink Floyd’s progressive orchestration as Björk’s electronic production. These songs are both grand and intimate, inviting as well as mysterious. – Forrest James
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