Sub Pop Records: 30 Years, 30 Tracks

Earth – “High Command”

from Pentastar: In the Style of Demons (1996)

Telling someone to “check out this groovy Earth riff,” especially in the ‘90s, could easily result in a baffled look or two. But 22 years later, “High Command” remains one of the catchiest Earth tracks, so much it’s practically an earworm. With the 1996 release of Pentastar: In the Style of Demons—their last release on Sub Pop before a 10-year break and a label jump—came the most minimal shift from their earliest drone style to something with a little more drive. What else would you expect from an album with that iconic Plymouth Barracuda on the front? – Laura Ansill

Sunny Day Real Estate – “Pillars”

from How It Feels to Be Something On (1998)

You’re reading this correctly—we didn’t pick “Seven” or “In Circles,” as utterly essential and influential as they were on indie rock and emo in particular. But Sunny Day Real Estate’s greatest peak happened in 1998 with How It Feels to Be Something On, an album that for better or worse found them compared to Radiohead’s OK Computer, and which ultimately was one of indie rock’s greatest bands having their Peter Gabriel moment. Atmospheric, exotic, yet still emotionally devastating amid the mystique, album opener “Pillars” introduced a band with a new sense of purpose and a redefined aesthetic. What it sacrifices in young male angst it makes up for in layers of breathtaking intrigue. – Jeff Terich

The Shins – “New Slang”

from Oh Inverted World (2001)

A song that’s both benefited and faced the double-edged sword of exposure in pop culture moments such as a McDonald’s commercial and the 2004 film Garden State, “New Slang” is, along with “Such Great Heights,” the rare Sub Pop song that’s no doubt familiar to the widest audience out of all the others featured here. And that’s for good reason: Improbably simple, impossibly catchy and remarkably pretty, “New Slang” is a song that immediately feels familiar. When I heard it for the first time, I had sworn that I knew it already. That’s the peculiar timelessness of the song, which made The Shins a household name. Natalie Portman was right about this song changing at least one person’s life: songwriter James Mercer. – Jeff Terich

Hot Hot Heat – “Bandages”

from Make Up The Breakdown (2002)

As post-punk and Britpop revivals ramped up into the 21st century, it was hard to pinpoint any particular artist in them who was quirky or playful. Then Sub Pop got their hands on a quartet out of Victoria, British Columbia, that sounded like The Fall or XTC delivering their whizzing guitars and frantic vocals on a relentlessly sunny day. Steve Bays makes this song positively chirp, whether it’s his lyrics about the wounds incurred fighting for love or the vintage organ sounds he plays underneath to propel them into history. This single is the kind of music you think of when you think of indie rock’s first few years, the golden age you want it to have. – Adam Blyweiss

Constantaines – “Shine A Light”

from Shine A Light (2003)

Toronto’s Constantines approached a muscular post-hardcore sound through the bloodline of blues and heartland rock. Their comparisons to Springsteen were frequent, in large part due to frontman Bry Webb’s hoarse rasp, and in their off time they covered Neil Young under the name Horsey Craze. But that’s not to say their unique brand of art-punk was straightforward or even all that commercial. The title track to their second and best album, Shine A Light, is driven primarily by a jazzy sense of space and tension, its eerie verses giving way to a chorus that booms and bellows. In a live setting it proved the strength of their showmanship as well, their drummer pulling off some well-timed stunts right before the coda. – Jeff Terich

The Postal Service – “Such Great Heights”

from Give Up (2003)

To this point in their catalog, Sub Pop had rarely touched anything resembling electronic music. So of course their first and arguably most successful synth-powered release is intensely DIY: a side project of two guys and two girls from other labels who rarely met in the studio, instead choosing to build up their work by mailing it to each other. The resultant programming by Dntel’s Jimmy Tamborello shuffles and pushes along Ben Gibbard’s (Death Cab for Cutie) wonder-filled lyrics about a relationship he can’t quite believe is really real as Jen Wood plays his backup-singing romantic foil. The band’s second single not only went gold, it struck TV and film placement gold, and the exposure helped make their Give Up album the first from Sub Pop to follow Nirvana to platinum status. – Adam Blyweiss

Iron and Wine – “Naked As We Came”

from Our Endless Numbered Days (2004)

Sam Beam’s lo-fi debut The Creek Drank the Cradle yielded comparisons to the likes of Elliott Smith and Nick Drake, but Beam’s gentle finger-picked indie folk style had a distinct Southern warmth to it. Nowhere is that so palpable as on his gently tear-jearking standout “Naked As We Came,” a meditation on love and death that’s as simple as it is deeply affecting. Yet it’s never overwrought or overly dramatic. Beam maintains his gently soothing croon throughout, delivering a brief but poignant observation about how the greatest joys will inevitably come to an end, and how if we’re lucky enough, we’ll make our exit in the arms of someone who loved us most. – Jeff Terich

Comets on Fire – “The Antlers of the Midnight Sun”

from Blue Cathedral (2004)

Northern California psych-rockers Comets on Fire had been creating furious squalls of sound for a good half-decade before making their Sub Pop debut, but as introductions to acid freakouts go, it’s hard to pick a better one than Blue Cathedral. Swirling together the sounds of ’70s-era pioneers such as The Stooges and Blue Cheer with a dose of their own brain-melting blend, album highlight “The Antlers of the Midnight Sun” pairs the band’s riffs with some noisy saxophone for something that comes across a little like no-wave heavy psych. Sub Pop’s always reserved a special place for noise-making freaks, and Comets on Fire are among the freakiest. – Jeff Terich

Sleater-Kinney – “Jumpers”

from The Woods (2005)

The Woods, Sleater-Kinney’s first album to be released through Sub Pop, was also the one that saw their end come too soon. Working with Dave Fridmann for the first time, the Portland trio pushed themselves to the limits on the 10-track masterpiece, playing louder, harder, heavier and with even more emotional depth surging through their Zeppelin-sized anthems. Chief among them is “Jumpers,” an abrasive and highly charged single set in the moments before someone’s plunge off of the Golden Gate Bridge: “Four seconds was the longest wait.” Yet while one of their eeriest tracks, subject wise, it also boasts some of Carrie Brownstein’s most badass riffs. Surely after a performance like this a break did the band some good, though it’s worth noting that when the band reconvened for 2015’s No Cities to Love, they came right back home to Sub Pop. – Jeff Terich

Wolf Parade – “I’ll Believe in Anything”

from Apologies to the Queen Mary (2005)

The title of Wolf Parade’s debut album Apologies to the Queen Mary apparently came from a real-life incident in which the band caused some trouble with some late-night fireworks aboard the Queen Mary in Long Beach, California during the All Tomorrow’s Parties festival. And indeed, much of the Vancouver indie rock group’s best moments are their rowdiest. But Spencer Krug’s operatic moment of glory is one that showcases a heart-swelling romanticism that finds him singing sweet nothings like “Give me your eyes/ I need sunshine” and promising to “take you where nobody knows you and nobody gives a damn anyway.” It’s always escalating, always rushing toward a climax, always eager to make that romantic escape. A song as exciting as it is affecting, it shows that Wolf Parade’s soft side is every bit as explosive as when they’re barking their loudest. – Jeff Terich