Back “Sea Change” (2002)

Covering The Zombies, John Martyn, and Nick Drake during his sessions and tour of Sea change, Beck's influences are clearly heard and channeled this time around. While Mutations was all over the place, here Beck works on a very focused playing ground yet stretching some songs to the limit like the bare "Paper Tiger" or very solemn "It's All in Your Mind". His voice reaches such a level of power and beauty that could never have been foreseen coming from Mr.MTV Makes Me Wanna Smoke Crack, especially in the country tinged "Guess I'm Doing Fine". There is just such a chilling yet peaceful tone to Beck's voice and overall melodies that fully captures what the man must've felt to put out such an unpredictable yet honest record.

Beck has always channeled his place in life and views throughout his albums, whether people could see it through his bizzare language and theatrics is something less debatable. Mutations was his Moon & Antarctica (read: Hopeless, disenchanted sad sack record) but you would have never known, but here we see the most straightforward lyricism yet from Beck. The bitterness ("Is that what you thought love was for?"), the one sided love ("I can't cry them anymore/I can't think of what they're for"), and hopeful hopelessness ("Let it pass on the side of the road/What a friend could tell me now"); Everything here is easy to read into yet nonetheless powerful or mysterious.

As much of a downer Sea Change was in 2002, it gave me a real sense that Beck went on this sorrowful, soul-draining spiritual journey so I wouldn't have to. It was quite the opposite but Sea Change turned out to become one of the best friends I've had. Life's turned out to be less of my own private award show of Mr. Holland's Opus and more of a grim train ride passing by everyone I've hurt and everyone that's failed to see how I've helped them. I guess I'm at the "Already Dead" part of my life working up to "Side of the Road", so it makes sense that the 2nd half of the album has began to click with me. It's also has begun to make sense how strangely beautiful the most awful moments of your life can be, especially when Sea Change is your soundtrack. –Allistair

The La’s “The La’s” (1990)

Even though John Power was an essential member of The La's, I'm loathe to label the band the forerunner of Cast. There are some similarities in the homogeneous nature of the pop music but Power had little to do with writing anything for The La's. The band was almost the private property of Lee Mavers who, if proof were needed of that fact, took it upon himself to destroy the only copy of the master tapes for the proposed second album because he was dissatisfied with the results. An action which ensured the self-destruction of the band.  On the one hand the band's demise was a cause for pity. The timeless nature of some of the songs, particularly "There She Goes", hinted at them being around for some time to come. However, on the other hand, the perfectionist disposition of Mavers would probably result in interminable periods of time between albums during which the fickle music fan would have moved on to pastures new. Whilst the songs smack of a long Merseyside tradition for producing enduring pop, Mavers almost hypnotises the listener by repeating the same word or phonetic sounds throughout. The effect lulls you into a trance-like state and the music carries you with it. It really is quite an amazing album and one for which a follow-up would have been eagerly awaited. –Ian

Royal Trux “Cats and Dogs” (1993)

At a time when punk and indie were well into the mainstream, and everyone involved was flexing their love for all the classic rock heavies, little seemed to hit the target. Too much irony, too much 90's production, no balance. It's like punk was stuck in some kind of endless halloween. Royal Trux by all means should have blended right in; Stones worshiping hipster junkies playing dress up while kind of fumbling around with 70's licks. Yet, somehow, they're just so fucking cool that you cant deny their magnetic draw. Their vibe is smeared all over their sound and look and record covers in a way that makes up for EXTREME looseness at some points, by glorifying the superficial and criminal side of rock. "Cats and Dogs" is RTX at their peak of form, blending an avant-punk aesthetic with early 70's rock grooves. The end result is a sort of 4-track collaged mess of vocals and guitars rolling all over the place like you're listening to "Tonight's the Night", "White Light, White Heat", and "Maggot Brain" at the same time. Shit is loose, man. Perfect for stoned chillin' with the lights down. A great homage to rock history, check out this LP. –Alex

Jellyfish “Bellybutton” (1990)

From The Beatles right through to the likes of The Lightning Seeds, Britain has a knack of producing bands who deliver a brand of pure, polished pop. The content may have dark or serious overtones but the melody and vocals carry a rare, unblemished character. When a band is lauded as new pop sensations in America don’t expect the same characteristics. In some respects our pop is their AOR whilst their pop arrives way over from left field. They Might Be Giants and Eels are good illustrations of this idiosyncrasy and Jellyfish can be added to that list. They may have more rounded edges than the others but, underneath, they are equally strange. Vocally the closest comparison to Jellyfish is Crowded House (Andy Sturmer even sounds like Neil Finn), but when it comes to lyrical content they are a mile apart. Absent fathers ("The Man I Used To Be"), prostitution ("The King Is Half Undressed"), marital abuse ("She Still Loves Him"), rampant consumerism and parental neglect ("All I Want Is Everything") are all covered. It's testimony to the skill of the band that, no matter how heavy the subject, the music retains a lightness of touch to stop proceedings becoming too maudlin. Special mention should also be given to "I Wanna Stay Home" and "Baby's Coming Back" which, on their own, prove that Jellyfish was definitely a band that got away. –Ian

Replacements “Let It be” (1984)

For me this is far and away the best album The Replacements ever made. Some people say that they wish rock and roll was always imbued with the spirit that The Clash brought to it on "London Calling". I could easily say the same thing about "Let it Be". This is the perfect synthesis of rock aggression and songwriting finesse. A song like "Androgynous" probably wouldn't move me so much if it had been more slickly produced. The raw beauty of these songs makes me believe in them. There have been a million songs written about adolescence but "Sixteen Blue" is one of the only ones that really feels like it. The painful yearning and confusion of being sixteen is captured perfectly in those crunching guitar chords and especially the guitar solo with which the song closes. Rather than offering release, the end of the song raises the unresolved tension higher and higher. It is full of beauty and sadness. And then we have the album closer, "Answering Machine", with its fabulous, tight guitar playing, its earnest, pleading vocal and gorgeous melodicism. This is one of the best songs ever written about romantic obsession. Indeed this is one of the best rock songs period. In its rawness, energy and its dual loyalties to grunge and melody, in 1984 this album sounded like the future itself. –Javasean

The Modern Lovers “The Modern Lovers” (1976)

This albums flawlessness is unparalleled. Jonathan Richman has crafted an ideal record that is filled with exceptional songs. "Pablo Picasso" has to be one of my favorites. I can never get enough of it and "Hospital" is right there alongside it. Just beautiful love stories told with such panache and Richman's voice is perfectly suited with each spoken word. Listening to "Hospital" is heartrending, but when reading the lyrics it's almost like a six year old wrote it. But, this album is anything but ordinary. It's a candid masterpiece that ranks at the top of all my lists. –Jason

They Might Be Giants “They Might Be Giants” (1986)

Quite the mixed bag, but the goodness is really good ("Don't Lets Start", "Youth Culture Killed My Dog", "Boat of Car") and the badness is gone before you know it ("Rabid Child", "(She Was) A Hotel Detective", "Chess Piece Face"), washed away in the swift flow of quirky tunes and strange ideas that make up TMBG's debut album. And you'll likely disagree with my choices for good and bad, as well, since everything here is so eclectic. It's hard for me to take any of this too seriously, because the band clearly doesn't, but as usual, they always sprinkle in enough food for thought and maybe-profound lyrics that it doesn't desolve into complete camp. In this early stage of their career, they kind of sound like a mix between the Residents and Weird Al. Only better than that description sounds. Soon, they would refine their aesthetic and make more fully realized statements. –Lucas

The Replacements “Tim” (1985)

After the skillful Let It Be, Paul Westerberg and the boys decided to make another essential classic rock album, only this time they got even better. Tim is loaded up with first-rate tunes such as the lasting "Bastards of Young" accompanied with the sweet "Kiss Me on the Bus." Let's not forget the sacred "Left of the Dial" and the touching "Here Comes a Regular." One of my personal favorites is "Swingin' Party," it's so catchy and complete with solitude that it's one of the very few songs I never get tired of. "Hold My Life" is terrific and "Little Mascara" is compelling at times. Every last song on this disc is superlative rock 'n' roll. If I was pressed to make a pick for the must hear Replacements album, it just might have to go to Tim. How this wasn't one of the best selling albums of the 80's is beyond me. –Jason

Talk Talk “Laughing Stock” (1991)

They started [in 1982] with “The Party's Over” - that's precisely how ten years later, Talk Talk’s last album sounds - the party’s over. Their music always contained elements of what Talk Talk would eventually develop into on their last two LPs, but who would have expected such a radical mutation, from synth Pop to practically classical music? Laughing Stock continues where Spirit Of Eden ended; the two LPs could be a double album, and anyone who loves one of the two should make sure he/she got both. Myrrhman starts the album with searching for structure. A mixture of Blues and modern classical music, the music is played on acoustic instruments. With Ascension Day, a groove is introduced; there are Jazz influences. The mighty and hymnic After the Flood, my favorite song of this album, is the closest Laughing Stock gets to resemble regular Pop, only its length (over 9 minutes) shuts it off from Radio play. It flows directly into the spacious and ambient Taphead. A 6/8 beat brings back the motion on the blissful and meditative New Grass - a Bach choral (from the St. Matthew's passion - O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden) appears, reinforcing the religious mood of the album. The final song, Runeii, starts with only voice and guitar, later, organ, piano and drums fade in and out; it's a quiet windup with a hippie feel. Laughing Stock is the ultimate step of Talk Talk's musical search into the soul. Commercially, it was a fiasco, and Laughing Stock, with its lengthy and introvert songs, sounds as if Talk Talk never planned to compete with this LP on the Pop market; it remains their last album. As a creative effort within the realms of Pop music, however, it's a victory, a timeless beauty and one of the best Pop records of the 90s. –Yofriend

Kate Bush “Hounds of Love” (1985)

Albums that take you into another world never seem to have the adorable pop structures our ears need to play them as much as we'd like to. Kate Bush solved this by breaking the album into two sides, suiting both. Before you know it, it's one and the same. There isn't a more comforting voice in the world than Kate Bush's, as far as I'm concerned. From the vivid opening trio to the down right moving "Hello Earth", it's amazing to contemplate Bush did this all on her own in her studio. The word genius gets flung around so often in music culture, but listening to Hounds of Love front to back there isn't another word that seems more appropriate. It's not about single-handedly inspiring every female musician to come or making some great songs, it's about making one of the most strangest, complete, moving albums ever made that takes you into a different world every time and yet has you humming when you return back to your home in the city. –Allistair

The Magnetic Fields “69 Love Songs” (1999)

Before I bought this three disc set, I had downloaded some tracks from the collection and included them on various playlists. As a result, I had different favorites over time, falling in love with various tracks as they embedded themselves into my psyche. When I finally heard all the songs together I was blown away at the uniqueness of all these tracks. There's a lot here that works well together - simple instrumentation (some acoustic, some electro), alternating vocalists, dry humour, classic pop songwriting - Merritt is definitely one of the stellar songwriting voices of his generation. There's just the right amount of cheese here too, not too much but just enough to at least deflate things when they become too serious. Some favourites include "When My Boy Walks Down The Street", "Reno Dakota", "Washington DC" and "Zebra". Merritt should really turn these songs into some sort of musical because love is well..universal, and rightfully should be celebrated with song and dance. We see the theme of love here revealed, warts and all, with all its betrayals, bliss, rejection, infatuation, etc. This certainly isn't Julio Iglesias territory, although it would be nice to hear the famous Latin Lover croon his way through "How Fucking Romantic." –Neal

The Smiths “The Smiths” (1984)

If Smiths fans had a propensity for violence, I would've been beaten up quite a bit in middle school. You see, I was eleven and quite liked Bon Jovi - might as well get that skeleton out of the closet now. The most I got from the older Smiths fans at school (and ooh they ever were soo cool) were dirty looks or eye rolls. Well, whatever...I don't like Bon Jovi anymore (don't hate 'em either, they seem like nice chaps), and do consider myself a Smiths fan, but it wasn't really anything to do with my school experiences. Enter Morrissey and Marr. The latter's distinct guitar style is what blew me away first. He comes across as a kind of post punk Roger McGuinn. I guess I realized that one didn't have to be a "shredder" like Eddie Van Halen to stand out as a good guitarist. Then the Moz...well, not many have managed to duplicate that croon of his have they? I remember the Smoking Popes didn't sound anything like the Smiths, but their singer had the dry tuneless croon down pat. I find the Moz's singing on this debut strangely attractive, even funny - especially on "Miserable Lie" on which he eventually gives up singing altogether and just kind of hoots. But everything here is instantly memorable, especially the smash hits on the latter half of the album. –Neal

Sonic Youth “Daydream Nation” (1988)

“Record collectors shouldn't be in bands!” This is what Joe Carducci said when the other guys at SST records wanted to sign Sonic Youth in the mid eighties, And I can't fully disagree with the statement. Sonic has spent their career as artsy NYC hipsters riding any and every genre of music that they may or may not have business making, as long as it's "cool". In the early days, it was mostly a band trying to balance with one foot in punk while holding on to their no wave and high art credibility. By the early nineties, they were consciously dumbing down to cash in on grunge riffs. But at some point between the two, they managed to create one of the best rock albums of all time, the massive double LP, Daydream Nation. It's focused drive and sprawling experimentation come off so impressively natural. Somehow they balance a sort of psychedelic rock approach to slightly punk fueled pop songs with very DEAD C like noise drone outs that miraculously blend into a seamless late eighties indie record. Even the usually free flowing poetic vocals are at their least offensive. In fact most of the lyrics are amazing. It's the band at their peak of maturity. The space inside each song seems to grow with each listen as well, which leads to what seems like endless repeated listenings. Sadly, the 4th side trails off into some annoying territory, but there's so much to chew on already, and for the first three sides, nothing to skip. The sound suggests high art without the pretension overshadowing the human feel of the songs. Even Carducci later admitted that they were a good band in this period. That's what I think impresses me the most about Sonic Youth; every instinct tells me that this band need's to get real yet I always come back to them, and in Daydream's case, rarely leave. –Alex

Morrissey “Viva Hate” (1988)

In the land ye fishey and chips, there would come about a band that would rocketh the stray teenagers of the middle class. They would defeat the masses of hair metal and 80s b-boys, but would ultimately be destroyed by time. There would be a man to rise out of the fire who would make an album better than half of said band's. We would then call him Moz because that sounds cool and agree that he hasn't been the same since (although You are the Quarry was a hell of a comback....ye olde You are the Quarry, I mean). Sexy British asshole male divas of the world unite. Only one, eh? –Allistair

Prefab Sprout “Steve McQueen” (1985)

Saying Steve McQueen is easy listening, is like saying Twin Peaks was a soap opera. At first glance both statements seem true, yet both works have a way of distorting such unattractive mediums so much that it becomes something so different that could never be replicated again. Now Steven McQueen doesn't have scary synths or a lady carrying logs narrating, so I'm going to kill that comparison now. Song by song, I have heard very few albums that measure up as well as Prefab Sprout's crowning achievement. Listening over and over (sometimes five times in a row), I just start picking out individual moments in a song that add so much more charm and mystery to the bigger picture. Paddy McAloon has one of the best vocals in music, and just had the essence of someone you want to follow or know about simply through the power of his performance. Every song on here comes so close to the line between heartbreak and recovery, that they all capture the essence of both and never fail to move me. It's something truly special and one of the greatest albums ever. Like at the end of The Great Escape when Steven McQueen is out running the germans on his motorcycle. He sadly flips out and ends up where he began, back in the camp. He didn't succeed but he's happy. Why? Because he's Steve McQueen and that's a bad mother fucker. –Allistair

Mudhoney “Superfuzz Bigmuff” (1990)

Superfuzz Bigmuff plus Early Singles was my introduction into Mudhoney and the perfect place to start for newcomers. The great thing about this compilation is that it appeals to fans of all kinds of genres, not just grunge. Verifying the date of when this original EP was released we already know that it was before the whole grunge vogue. It even dates back before the explosion by a little band called...shit - sometimes forget the name, but they infiltrated the mainstream and changed music forever. So, if you have a problem with the “grunge” label and other typecasts no need to fret because Mudhoney is straight up garage rock with a grime quality added on to it. I can hear many influences that various bands drew together from this band. Hell, the opening track “Touch Me I’m Sick” is the absolute grunge anthem, in my opinion. It draws more from the “grungy muck” distinguishing the glorified sound that electrified the planet in the early 90’s as opposed to “Smells Like Teen Spirit” have-on-loan resonance of the Pixies “slow-fast” format. There is no denying the fact why one song was bigger than the other. Mudhoney was more interested in the raw sound of the Stooges and the debris of it all. Often the songs are just repeat uncomplicated lyrics with effortless playing, but there was a reason why these guys are so appropriately labeled the igniters of a revolution. Mark Arms feral scream was so concentrated that it was only rivaled by that of a Mr. Cobain. These guys had the gravy, while so many others were lingering, trying to play catch-up. Everybody I know gets hooked on this band as soon as they hear this album. –Jason

Hüsker Dü ”Candy Apple Grey” (1986)

A far cry from the ealier fuzzed-out-high-electric sound they created on past works, but the extremely catchy melodies are what makes Candy Apple Grey truly soar. I didn't know how to take it at first. My first exposure was New Day Rising and that, of course, is what made me fall in love with them, so I was a little taken' aback with the melancholy subject matter. Nevertheless, this has become my favorite Husker album by a long shot. There's no filler, just 10 top-notch songs that I never get tired of hearing. The set perfectly displays how far these guys have progressed from album to album and the fact that it was their major label debut paints the notion of a band that reached their full potential and achieved every ambition they set out to accomplish. Candy Apple Grey is hands down one of the most perfect albums I have ever heard. –Jason

Chameleons “Strange Times” (1986)

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

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 “Signals, Calls, and Marches” (1981)

Along with early Pere Ubu, Wire, and the Fall, Mission of Burma are on top of the post-punk heap anticipating Husker Du, Sonic Youth, Fugazi, and a whole lotta other stuff that's made music worthwhile in the last 30 years. Harnessing arty punk noise abandon to a firmly footed garage rawk, and throwing in enough hooks to snare your pop instincts and sonic left-turns to keep you guessing, there are few groups I can think of who made more bracing music in this very bracing period: the aforementioned luminaries rarely topped 'em, if ever. In fact, I'm not sure anyone can top the opening track on this record: it's been covered to death, but the original is timeless. Fortunately, their well-received reunion has resurrected their two essential early releases from obscurity. Get them both today. –Will