Poster Children, “Clock Street”

Unlike a lot of rock bands putting out records in the early 90s, the Poster Children were not signed in the wake of Nevermind. They found their way onto Sire for their 1990 album Daisychain Reaction, putting them ahead of that particular game. Nevertheless, Nirvana’s success put them in a good spot for their followup album, Tool of the Man. It’s more Pixies than Nirvana, with a bit too much brightness to really break through in that scene. But, listening 17 years on, this stuff sounds fresher than a lot of grunge does these days.

Panopticon, “Blåtimen”

Panopticon, the band that is actually just Austin Lunn, gained attention with Kentucky, where Lunn merged his love of Appalachian folk music with his love of black metal and produced an amalagam of the two, creating one of the most distinctive and interesting black metal albums ever. A couple albums down the road from his breakthrough, and he was still playing both of his loves. The Scars of Man on the Once Nameless Wilderness is a double album, and unlike Kentucky, it’s more two halves rather than a melding of the two styles. There’s a midpoint in the double album where it switches from the black metal to the folk. Lunn is an expert at both, so as long as you’re OK with both styles, it’s a great record. This, uh, is from the black metal half.

The Replacements, “Waitress In The Sky”

This is an inner-circle member of the “Songs That Randomly Pop In Josh’s Head” club. Which isn’t the catchiest name, I know. I’ll bring it up at the next meeting.

The Replacements, “I Will Dare”

Well, that’s a first. I ain’t mad!

I’ve said it before, but the Replacements have made the best album named Let It Be.

Negativland, “The Perfect Cut (Canned Music)”

In the wake of getting some minor success, Negativland planned to tour to support Escape From Noise. It quickly became apparent that the tour was going to be a financial disaster, so the band decided to cancel it. Being who they are, they made up a story about why they were canceling it, and fed nonsense to the media that it was a consequence of legal trouble as a result of a kid murdering his parents after listening to “Christianity Is Stupid”. This was at a time when the media was ready to believe all kinds of nonsense about music and games, with satanic panic everywhere, so they got a local news station in California to bite.

Eddie Holland, “Take A Chance On Me”

Alas, no, this isn’t a predecessor of the ABBA song, but now I want to hear Motown style covers of ABBA songs.

The Pietasters, “Without You”

Seems like we’ve had a lot more of the Pietasters live than we have from their studio work, which is kind of a shame. A rational person might ask, well, why don’t I just remove the live record from the collection? To which I say to you, Rational Person, why the hell are you even paying attention to this dumb blog? Shouldn’t you be doing some imaginary figment business or something?

Tuxedo, “So Good”

It is so good, Tuxedo, you’re right.

Swarvy, “Lesson With Julian”

Kiiiinda regretting not writing more for that first track.

Has-Lo, “Utero”

Well, on track here for the shortest Five Songs entry ever, at least by word count. Maybe by running time also, I don’t know. I’d have to actually do some research to figure that out, and that is absolutely not going to happen.

Cynic, “Celestial Voyage”

Cynic’s 1993 album Focus is one of the foundational documents of progressive metal, as they took death metal and mashed it up with prog and jazz, resulting in an album that was very, very far out there for the time. The constant showy playing can get kind of exhausting, honestly, but it’s hard not to at least respect what they’re up to here. They actually put just this album out, which would have been an impressive one-record legacy…before ruining that by reforming 15 years later. I have not listened to any post-reunion records, though.

Mephiskapheles, “Satanic Debris”

As a statement of purpose for a band, it doesn’t get a whole lot stronger than this one. From the opening backwards masked vocals, to the dark lyrics, the subtle distortion of the guitar lending some additional menace, to the hallmark solo trading, you just have a perfect encapsulation of the (wonderful) Mephiskapheles aesthetic. The odds that a band named Mephiskapheles would turn in one of the finest albums of the third wave seems slim, but God Bless Satan is legitimately a treasure.

Godflesh, “Pure”

Godflesh were pioneers in heavy music, bringing together the guitars of extreme metal with the rhythms of industrial, inspiring bands on both sides of the fence. Streetcleaner is considered a classic, and after an interim EP, they returned with Pure, after some changes in personnel. The drum machine and sampling was even more forward than in the previous album, and the results aren’t really as strong. It’s something of a transitional record, where you can see the seams between the industrial and metal, rather than merging together as a whole.

The Allstonians, “Mikey Dee”

After the collapse of Moon Ska Records left a smoking crater in the scene, it took some bands a while to get back on track. The Allstonians were one of them, with a gap of 6 years between The Allston Beat and Bottoms Up!. The time didn’t really do them any favors - it’s a decent album, but it doesn’t really have the same energy or charm as the first two, which are some of my favorites from the third wave.

Dr. Ring-Ding & The Senior Allstars, “Call Di Doctor”

Just a reminder: this is a white dude from Germany.

Sly & the Family Stone, “Poet”

Sly & the Family Stone’s 1971 record There’s A Riot Goin’ On is a landmark of soul, rock, and funk, even as it’s essentially impossible to put into any of those categories. The band’s optimism on previous records had essentially evaporated, and this record also marked the point at which Sly Stone’s drug issues and interpersonal problems starting affecting the music. The album was recorded with overdubs in the studio, with Sly handling most of the playing, instead of the rest of the band playing it directly. It’s murky, dark, and often strange, and it’s completely compelling.

Swans, “Stay Here”

Filth is maybe the best named album ever made. Belching forth from the no-wave scene in New York City, it’s just 36 minutes of pure punishment. Grinding, scraping, the nihilism is palpable on every part of the record. From Roli Mossimann’s relentless pounding on the drums, to Norman Westberg’s doom-laden guitar work, and especially Michael Gira’s howling vocals, the Swans are operating in a primal mode here that would inspire countless other noise bands. They would tune their attack, add in a lot more variation and complexity, and would end up as one of the most majestic bands ever. But when they started? They were the avatars of everything murky and gross.