How can you not think The Chameleons are the most underrated band of all time, once you get this far into their catalogue? The guitars single handedly inspired U2 and Interpol, the lyrics were approaching topics unconventional and honest, and the albums were just so complete and original. From the sorrow of losing a close friend to the excitement/desperation of losing your virginity, Strange Times carried a weird variety of topics and themes that carried feelings of joy and sadness. With no mention in Rolling Stones top 500 albums list, no mention in Pitchfork’s 80s list, a recent reunion that went unnoticed, there is no second chance for the mainstream to get a glimpse into the genius of The Chameleons. It will forever be remained as that band with the awesome sleeves that your uncle has in his collection. Probably some derivative post-punk shit, nothing important. –Allistair
Alternative and Indie
My Bloody Valentine “Isn’t Anything” (1988)
My Bloody Valentine spent a few years wasting time in paisley limbo before growing a massive pair and reinventing psychedelic music as well as a new language for the electric guitar. Isn’t anything is their first full length representation of this, and in my opinion, their greatest achievement as a band. Jesus and Marychain and Spacemen 3 may have peaked before this, as critics love to point out, but who really gives a shit? The Marychain and Spacemen are the dictionary definition of posers, who in the process of riding on America’s musical history for cool points, happened to luck out and make some good music. But there’s nothing original there, no real emotion. Isn’t Anything, on the other hand, is just a total swirling cacophony of electric sounds and emotions; sometimes bending, sometimes stacked on top of each other,sometimes crashing. You realize that this is truly what it feels like to be an opened up human being. It’s the feeling that you’re feeling everything at once and bordering on insanity except that the one connecting point is, no matter what emotions are consuming your senses, they will be extreme. Love, loss, change, it’s all here in it’s purest form, the abstract form. And what’s truely impressive is that the music doesn’t sound dated at all yet it’s blatently psychedellic. The drums and bass border on hardcore via Dinosaur Jr’s mammoth-like approach, while the guitars and vocals, both provided by the heavenly duo of Kevin Sheilds and Belinda Butcher, flow over and consume the sound in a way that the ocean might look lazy but ultimately it couldn’t give a fuck about you and could wipe you out in a second if you were in the way of it’s power. Just throw this on, and make sure it’s at a somewhat loud enough volume. –Alex
Mission of Burma “Vs.” (1982)
A densely visceral piece of post-punk that manages to evoke a whole spectrum of moods with limited means, I would say this is as important as early Sonic Youth and Husker Du but better than both; as challenging as any of the most difficult work of Wire or Pere Ubu, but less pretentious; as abrasive as the UK’s industrial scene, but a whole lot more fun; hypnotic, like Krautrock, but never usable for ambience; and as meat ‘n’ potatoes as the Ramones. No one quite sounds like this group, who serve up a very noisy piece of rawk that anticipates both grindcore (but slower) and shoegaze (but rougher). Empty genre-bending this ain’t, however. I’ll say it’s one of the half-dozen or so best guitar records of the 80s, especially because, without it, Daydream Nation (one of its only peers in the underground) probably wouldn’t exist. –Will
The Replacements “Don’t Tell a Soul” (1989)
As a band who’ve historically been placed among the top dogs of the punk herd, it’s predictable that fans of The Replacements earlier material hate this break from the pack solely on principal. But taken away from those preconceptions, Don’t Tell a Soul is a is blatantly commercial, adult-rock winner that continues to highlight Westerberg’s talents as an excellent songwriter. The collapsing band turn in engaging, effortlessly heartbroken melodies on songs like “Back to Back,” “Asking Me Lies,” and the almost contemporary country-flavored “Achin’ to Be,” while “I’ll Be You” and “Talent Show” are hooky as hell. Only “I Won’t” flops as an unnecessary attempt to get rowdy and, yeah, sound like the “old” Replacements. Selling out rarely sounds this good. –Ben
Weezer “Weezer” (1994)
The great tunes here deal with sex (as great songs usually do), such as “Undone (The Sweater Song)” and “Only in Dreams.” The epic “Say it Ain’t So” is one of the best songs of the decade, period. The band doesn’t waste time noodling around and every track sounds punchy and vital. Another positive are the smart lyrics. Not smart because they try to be clever – quite the opposite, actually. Every word rings true, which is quite a feat considering they aren’t masked by slick wordplay or attempts at poetic garbage. Cuomo writes pop songs as perfect as Oasis thinks theirs are. Somehow, the band filters them through the type of sun-drenched garage sensibility that is usually reserved for SoCal bands only. Finally, Weezer never overreaches or missteps, making this a thoroughly enjoyable experience from start to finish. –Lucus
Guided by Voices “Bee Thousand” (1994)
Their best album, without question: an inspired amalgam of a particularly British rock history (Bob even puts on the accent, though with a charming lack of consistency that recalls Sir Alex Chilton rather than other lesser American poseurs): channelling Who mod aggression, late-60s Kinks nostalgia, Revolver’s kitchen-sink aesthetic, and post-punk collage sensibilities, this was the album that got GBV out of a Dayton, OH basement, and I bet it’s the one that’ll be played 20 years from now. I know, I know, Alien Lanes is arguably more varied and better paced. But Pollard never wrote a better set of lyrics than here (his random strings of sentiment pile up into something more significant here than they tend to do), and the hooks are seemingly effortless. The ultra lo-fi recording reveals layered detail, and the opening three tracks here qualify among the best sequences in pop history: “Hardcore UFOs” is one of the only rock anthems of the last 30 years that packs any emotional punch, while “Tractor Rape Chain” sounds like Neil Young & Crazy Horse in some parallel universe where they hailed from Leeds. And littered throughout this 20-song tunefest are many of their other best songs: “Gold Star for Robot Boy” is a mod anti-authority song for the slacker generation; the deranged but dead-on “Her Psychology Today” resurrects classic-rock misogyny for the era of the institutionalized sensitive male and the powerbook feminist; and “Kicker of Elves,” well, what the hell is “Kicker of Elves?” Pop bliss in a minute. God Bless Guided By Voices and the Lager-Soaked Four-Track They Sailed In On. –Will
Dinosaur Jr. “You’re Living All Over Me” (1987)
My favorite record from my favorite band. I don’t even really know what to say. This record speaks to me in a way no other piece of recorded music ever has. It’s heavy and gentle, totally hardcore and psychedelic, wasted, yet totally on point, defeated yet triumphant. It’s all these little contradictions that make it so profoundly cool to me. They “nailed it” like no other band. In the artwork, the guitar sound, the rhythm section and even the track order. –Richard
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