Dear Gen-Z, allow me to tell you how annoying it was to be a music fan in the ‘90s.
First, there were only, like, five bands: Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots and Smashing Pumpkins. There might have been more, but I can’t remember them. Oh right, there was also Hole. Six bands to choose from in the ‘90s.
Sometimes the radio tried to get you into other bands by playing someone who wasn’t the Big Six. This is how we found new music. There was no playlist sharing, no algorithm. Sometimes a person would make you a mix cassette, but this was much more rare than movies would have you believe. And if said mixtape didn’t have Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots, Smashing Pumpkins or Hole, you’d be wondering Why doesn’t this mixtape have any Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots, Smashing Pumpkins or Hole?
If, by chance, you heard and enjoyed a song by an unfamiliar band on the radio, there was literally no way to know if their album was good unless you shelled out $15 for it at your local Sam Goody. It was a risk. We spent so much money on albums based on one song, and so many times we paid for it, big time.
Because of the risk, a lot of great albums flew under the radar. Many promising and even famous-ish bands got screwed because of buyer fatigue or radio trickery. So in an effort to shed some light on those unfairly maligned gems, here are the 10 most underappreciated rock albums from the ‘90s.
10. Misfits - Famous Monsters (1999)
Being a post-Danzig Misfits fan will not win you any friends. In fact, confessing it among certain punk circles might make you a few enemies. I do admire Danzig’s uncompromised artistic vision, no matter how problematic it is. And granted, ‘90s-era Misfits lacks the sparse poignancy that made Danzig’s Misfits songs so timeless, but they also don’t possess Danzig’s penchant for rapey and misogynistic lyrics. These songs are super spooky and fun, and even more in debt to horror movies than OG Misfits (a good thing imo). Comparing Famous Monsters to Earth A.D. is akin to riding The Haunted Mansion after watching a live autopsy. Even though replacement singer Michale Graves has turned out to be a rightwing nut job (Misfits are 0 for 2 with decent humans as singers), the guy sings the hell out of this album. “Saturday Night,” for example, is one of the creepiest romantic songs ever (somehow, he can even make the line “Now I'm watchin', WATCHIN’ YOU DIE!” sound sweet). Let’s also not forget that drummer Dr. Chud had spikes on his drum set during this era, and that’s cool.
9. Dance Hall Crashers - Purr (1999)
If we lived in a just world, Dance Hall Crashers would’ve been more popular than any of the ska-punk bands that pickituppickituppickitup’d in the ‘90s. Perhaps this is presumptuous, but I imagine radio execs listening to DHC and saying, “Well, we already have No Doubt. So, pass.” Regardless, every DHC release rules, but 1999’s Purr, their final studio album, finds the band firing on all cylinders—delivering sugar-coated cut after cut of poppy bangers. This was my soundtrack during the summer between middle and high school, and it was a source of positivity that helped alleviate the lowkey anxiety that I felt during those months. I still throw it on every time I need a pickmeuppickmeuppickmeup.
8. Spacehog - Resident Alien (1995)
Just gonna throw this out there: Spacehog’s “In the Meantime” is one of the best songs that ever played on rock radio. From the opening telephone sample (which was taken from Penguin Cafe Orchestra’s “Telephone and Rubber Band”), to the slithery-funky bassline, to the iconic guitar riff in the chorus (how can a bended string be so infectious?), the song is a delicious stew of ingenious ingredients. It’s almost too bad that “In the Meantime” is so good, because its popularity overshadowed an amazingly solid album. More fun than Oasis, and more effortless than Blur, Resident Alien was the DGAF of Britpop, chock full of swagger, retro glam, and incredible production. Just listen to “Cruel To Be Kind” and try to think of a song that sounded as limitless.
7. The Cardigans - Gran Turismo (1998)
I wish I could go back in time and see my face the first time I heard Cardigans’ “My Favourite Game” on the radio. Like every preteen of the era, I had grown up with the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack—and, therefore, The Cardigans’ “Lovefool”—playing on repeat. Even now, the throwback sunny disco hit slaps. But in 1998, the Swedish pop band went dark (this, as we’ll see, was never a good financial choice during the ‘90s). Gran Turismo eschewed danciness for menace, and although “My Favourite Game” may not sound so radical now, it felt like whiplash to those who loved “Lovefool.” The rest of the album is just as bleak. With creeping trip-hop and sinister vibes abound, Gran Turismo is a testament to bold artistry.
6. Sponge - Rotting Piñata (1995)
Damn, I love this album. It’s a no-skips record for me. It’s hard to argue why Sponge is different than, say, Stone Temple Pilots, but if you only know them as the “sixteen candles down the drain” band, then you’re missing out on a truly great album. Part of the reason I love them so much may be singer Vinnie Dombroki, who sounds like a guy on his deathbed (death by swallowing gravel) but then keeps jumping up to deliver emotional, transcendent performances. Plus, I love nothing more than when a band ends an album with their best song, and “Rainin’” is one for the books.
5. Primus - Brown Album (1997)
Let’s be clear: Primus was not an underrated band. Both Sailing the Seas of Cheese (1991) and Pork Soda (1993) sold copies by the millions. THE MILLIONS! But as the halfway point of the decade came and went, people seemed to lose interest in Primus’ unique brand, which is a shame because the Brown Album stripped away the band’s indulgent and—I’m saying this even as a Primus fan—annoying eccentricities. It’s lean and mean, with production that can only be described as “thicc.” Another thing this album has going for it is an introduction to new drummer, Brain. Primus’ longtime on-again/off-again drummer Tim Alexander is revered as a legend for his technical skill, but I’ve always found his drumming passionless and nerdy (just look at this fuckin guy’s drum set). Brain, on the other hand, does far more with less, and Brown Album is full of pummeling, iconic beats. It’s my dream to be a DJ and throw on “Shake Hands With Beef” during the middle of the set.
4. Toadies - Rubberneck (1994)
Rubberneck might be the most popular underrated album of all time. In fact, it may not even be underrated at this point; it might have graduated to the realm of accurately rated, alongside Pinkerton. Whatever the case, I’ll forever bang the drum for Rubberneck, an inimitable 11-track, Southern Gothic descent into hell that’s up there as one the most disarmingly frightening things to come out of the ‘90s. Of course, we all know “Possum Kingdom,” with its repeated “Do you wanna die?” bridge (which is always the best screen at karaoke), but have you heard “Tyler”? Or the unhinged “Mister Love”? If you aren’t shaken by the end of album closer “I Burn,” then you are one fucked-up individual.
3. Elastica - S/T (1994)
Elastica might not be underrated—they were very popular and sold a lot of records—but the buzz/hype/gossip surrounding the band definitely overshadowed its musical accomplishments. If I were to ask anyone what they thought of Elastica, I bet I’d get stuff like, “Wire sued them for ripping them off,” or “Didn’t that singer used to date Damon Albarn?” And yes, Elastica’s hit “Connection” sounds nearly identical to Wire’s “Three Girl Rhumba,” but ”Connection” improves upon the redundant original (sorry, nerds). But if you only know the hits, you’re missing out on a great album of angular and vicious post-punk. It feels reverent to bands like Gang of Four and Wire (lol, obvs), but also ahead of its time. I don’t know if there’s a better song written about male inadequacy than “Stutter.” Maybe that’s why dudes are so quick to point out the Wire thing?
2. HUM - Downward is Heavenward (1998)
HUM hit moderately big with “Stars” from 1995’s You’d Prefer an Astronaut, and while that song is undeniable, the band’s true masterpiece is Downward is Heavenward. Not only is it one of the best albums of the ‘90s, it’s one of my favorite records ever. No other band can make heavy music sound as sad, romantic, and weirdly soothing as HUM. I remember finding this album in a bargain bin and buying it on a whim, even though I was slightly disappointed it wasn’t the “Stars” album. What I got was a revelation. It felt like I had found a key to locating beauty inside noise, and an understanding of how happy and sad aren’t necessarily binary emotions, but can co-exist within music.
1. Blind Melon - Soup (1995)
If I die knowing that I turned at least one person onto Blind Melon’s brilliant second album, then I consider that a life well lived. The first track is a far cry from the flower-child grunge of “No Rain”: a drunken horn section introduces us to “Galaxie,” which described late singer Shannon Hoon’s hellish portrayal of life as an addict (he died 8 weeks after Soup came out). And it only gets darker from there. However, as dour it may seem, the band’s technical expertise—as well as their sense of humor—is on full display here (never would’ve thought you’d laugh at an Ed Gein-inspired song about wearing someone else’s skin, did you??). Again, the new direction didn’t win the band any fans, but it’s hard for me to think of a band who embraced darkness as artistically as Blind Melon.
AWKSD CAPTION CONTEST WINNERS
Last Sunday, I sent out this image and asked readers to give it a caption.
Again, all the responses I got were so good. Thanks for making this decision so hard!
This week’s winners are:
Gary Gould: “Modern child development theory embraces trends in bdsm role-play”
And Larisa: "Can I keep him? I promise to clean up all his insider trading scandals!"
Congrats, you two! You get free paid subscriptions to AWKSD, and Tom Was Right stickers.
Keep your eyes peeled for another caption contest this Sunday.
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Friday, June 17
Deviates, Authority Zero, Hoist The Colors @ Brick By Brick: South Bay natives Deviates exploded onto the SoCal punk scene in the early 2000s, even releasing an album on the punk heavyweight Epitaph (not to mention contributing a few tracks to those iconic Punk-O-Rama compilations). Now, they’ve reunited, and from the sound of their new song “The Liar,” it sounds like they haven’t lost any potency.
The Nukeproofs, The Calvins, and Into the Fuzz @ Til-Two Club: The Nukeproofs understand that there’s room for anthemic hooks in grimy, desert garage-rock. Make no mistake: their music is delightfully chaotic, but it’ll also get stuck in your head.
Kurt Braunohler @ Soda Bar: I love when music clubs book stand-up comedians, so I’m especially stoked about Kurt Braunohler. The madcap artist is simultaneously charming and foul-mouthed, and his story about proposing to his wife on a hot air balloon is priceless.
Tuesday, June 21
Cyber Shred Tour 2022: Rings of Saturn, Extortionist, Distinguisher, Loser, and Matt Miller @ Bricky By Brick: Ever wondered what deathcore would sound like if it was mashed up with Nintendo music? Rings of Saturn is your answer. It’ll completely melt your mind.
Flobots, Old Man Saxon @ The Casbah: Hard to believe that it’s been nearly 15 years since Flobots released “Handlebars,” but that song still whips ass. And that says nothing about the indie-rap group’s output since, which is phenomenal.
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I totally missed Hum until Inlet. Yes on Brown Album. Brah, Space Hog brings back a lot of aimless midwestern last-week-of-school vibes.