8. This Desert Life - Counting Crows, 1999 (Best of the 90s)

This Desert Life

Counting Crows
Geffen Records.


While August and Everything After deserves a spot of its own, I cannot deny that This Desert Life is indeed the better album, taking all the trademarks that made August... the classic while reaching out into a more well-rounded sound. Disclaimer: this video isn't very good. It makes the band look lamer than they actually are. Still, the music is the message and few major-label, alt-country bands release seven-minute singles these days. Super-good.

7. Homogenic - Bjork, 1997 (Best of the 90s)

Homogenic

Bjork
Elektra Records.

6. Twoism - Boards of Canada, 1995 (Best of the 90s)

Twoism

Boards of Canada
Warp Records.


That’s right – Twoism. As objectionable as it may seem given the domineering favoritism of Music Has the Right to Children amongst fans, I have always preferred their once-rare, once-out-of-print mini LP. Initially unveiled on a limited supply and finally remastered and re-released in 2002, this 1995 debut (the earliest confirmed LP, anyway) displayed a pioneering sound at work. From the zen-like trance of ‘Directine’ to the archaic break-beats of ‘Smokes Quantity’, Twoism had already outlined the BoC blueprint with alarming accuracy. The latter of the two was considered refined enough to warrant inclusion on their aforementioned 1998 breakthrough, whereas more experimental tracks like the drum’n’bass ‘Basefree’ or seasick ‘Iced Cooly’ give this record a rare glimpse into the Scottish duo’s early days. I suppose what clinches my love for Twoism is its succinctness, capturing all the magic and mystery of the band’s more popular work without overstaying its welcome. Nothing had sounded like this before, and no one has been capable of properly replicating it since. Fifteen years on, we’re still a few decades from being able to properly assess the influence this sound has had, as their pastoral, nostalgic take on electronica continues to reverberate around the globe.

5. Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness - The Smashing, 1995 Pumpkins (Best of the 90s)

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness

The Smashing Pumpkins
Virgin Records.


Some day I might get back to this album. I’ll dig through Rubbermaid containers dedicated to records of the past, reminisce about teenage days I’d prefer to keep airtight, meaningless, and bring Mellon Collie… back from my parent’s basement for a real review. Lord knows it deserves some sort of status in my apartment album-hierarchy. This was the double-tape I treated like a leather-bound bible but wore through with repeated listens and broke anyway. A double-album I listened to nearly exclusively between 1995 and 1997, I recall each of the mammoth’s 28 songs at one point became my favourite… with the exception of ‘Take Me Down’, which I always found a kind of humorous exclusion (really… just one song?). Perhaps the only record I’ve ever purchased twice for myself, vindicating the broken cassette with the double CD. Some day I’ll try to review this… the most influential album of my adolescence.

4. Mezzanine - Massive Attack, 1998 (Best of the 90s)

Mezzanine

Massive Attack
Virgin Records.


In its first decade alone, this record has become a mind-bending anomaly. Think about it: its popularity broke barriers between indie-kids and major-labels, pirate radio and blockbuster movies, obscure electronic subgenres and radio-rock homogenization, geeks who watch House and geeks who watch The Matrix, and between super-fan critics and shlubs who think Triphop might be some follow-up sensation to the Macarena. People of the same ignorance might even argue that such walls were torn asunder thanks to two tracks - ‘Angel’ (heard in just about every self-serious movie from 1998 through 2002) and ‘Teardrop’ (likewise…) but that would be discounting the power Mezzanine truly wields. Those two tracks may’ve taken Robert Del Naja and Co. to a stratosphere most bands dare not dream of but, when all trends die (Matrix wardrobes, lame hospital dramas, Triphop, whatever), Mezzanine will still stand as one of the most influential albums of the decade. Who could question a creativity that melded middle-eastern samples to ‘Inertia Creeps’, Velvet Underground samples to ‘Rising Son’, post-punk era Cure to ‘Man Next Door’ and Isaac Hayes’ swank to ‘Exchange’, all the while perfecting a subgenre they invented? Written on paper, such ideas sound goofy… their odds of success fanatical. Yet Mezzanine sounds virtually free of any samples or, for that matter, any knowledge of pop music before being sharpened and twisted into this nightmarish but timeless exoskeleton.

3. Beautiful Midnight - Matthew Good Band, 1999 (Best of the 90s)

Beautiful Midnight

Matthew Good Band
Universal Records.


As much as Good purports himself an unbiased activist on his constantly updated website, he never seems interested in playing the sheppard. Pity, since most of his registered flock is so unabashedly blind, they would kiss a pile of garbage if it vaguely resembled his ass. Point is, devout MG fans (myself included, although I steer clear of obsession) are an opinionated bunch when it comes to the man’s work. There’s the debate over what’s better: the MGB years or Good’s solo output, or for bonus indie-points, Good’s early 90s demos or Good’s post-band efforts? Hell, SCQ has indulged a similar debate by pitting Avalanche against Hospital Music for solo-album supremacy. One thing remains largely agreed upon, whether you’re a longtime or casual fan; that Beautiful Midnight is the crowning achievement (both artistically and commercially) that the Matthew Good Band ever released.

You could feel Good’s creativity swelling from the moment Underdogs went gold; the 'Apparitions' video, his growing presence on stage, his opinions publicized coast to coast and his prolific writing of self-described manifestos. Suddenly the brooding artist who wrote ‘She’s Got a New Disguise’ had a formidable platform to speak from and aside from some purposefully aloof entries about porn stars and setting off the world’s nuclear warheads on India, Good has used the stage responsibly. No surprise that the album recorded and toured throughout the posting of these online manifestos was Beautiful Midnight; fourteen songs that menace and unfurl the darkness of his imagination, with the odd faux-commentary (‘The Future is X-Rated’) thrown in for ironic measure. Beyond the noteworthy four singles are what best carries Beautiful Midnight to greatness; the ferocious stadium stomps of ‘Giant’, the black-comedy punchlines in ‘I Miss New Wave’, the restless but absolutely perfected misery of ‘Suburbia’. Good always knew when to rest his case, as proven in the deafening collapse of ‘Born To Kill’ – the record’s heaviest moment – which gives rise to ‘Running For Home’s daybreak soliloquy. One of Canada’s finest albums and an essential recording of the 90s.