VA – You’re No Big Deal – Grunge, The U.S. Underground and Beyond 1984-1994 – Cherry Red Records.
Well, let’s get the griping out of the way – the word ‘grunge’ may be used. It’s in the title; it’s used by people ‘on purpose’; I have very little control over history, despite my best efforts, and the alternative musical landscape of the 80s and 90s will doubtless have this term attached to it for the rest of time. I only mention it as when I go through all these tracks, there will be certain bands that cause cartoon eyebrows to levitate above your head. Although there are some (almost entirely) pleasant surprises included, they do all work together. This does not mean they’re all ‘grunge’. Look, y’see, even with a disclaimer, it’s already infected our minds.
Secondly, there is no Nirvana. Or Pearl Jam. Or Alice in Chains. I mean, you pay for the licence if you’re that upset. However – no Supersuckers; no Lubricated Goat; no Afghan Whigs; no Billy Childish; no Beat Happening, no Fastbacks…I could go on. Hopefully, there’ll be a part two.
It may or may not go without saying that this four-disc set is almost my dream release. I am obsessed with this period of music; Sub Pop; Estrus, Amphetamine Reptile, Sympathy for the Record Industry etc. I could listen to this all day, every day. I pretty much do anyway. Lovely packaging as always, nice interview with Mark Arm, who co-curated it ~(that’ll explain the huge number of tracks he’s connected to!), and some nice pics of the releases the tracks are taken from – useful given that there are some real obscurities here. BUT. There’s a surprising lack of info about the bands and the tracks themselves. Not that I needed an excuse, but I accept the challenge. Settle down. 81 tracks, we may be here for some time.
Disc One
Green River – ‘Come on Down’
The four discs are brought together in a loosely chronological order, which is useful, and goes a long way to show who wore whose influences on their sleeves and how the underground scene developed and opened its arms to different styles over the decade. Perhaps one of the real joys of this set, alongside the unexpected bands included, is the track choices – don’t expect a lazy greatest hits type affair, this is more like walking in halfway through a gig at the time.
Green River’s importance isn’t overstated by them kicking off the set, and ‘Come on Down’ from their 1985 debut EP prepares you nicely for the generally abrasive tone of this first disc. The track is told from the perspective of the Green River Killer, who haunted the Pacific Northwest in the way Peter Sutcliffe prowled around West Yorkshire.
“Your body’s so warm/the river’s so cold”
The squeal of distortion; the descending chords; Mark Arm wailing like a banshee. We’re off!
Redd Kross – ‘Linda Blair 1984’
Who had money on Redd Kross being included, let alone this early? Formed way back in 1978 by brothers Steve and Jeff McDonald, Redd Kross have spent nearly their entire career on the fringes of several scenes – California; Alt Rock; Power Pop – I could go on – they just didn’t fit – and not fitting was the lifeblood of the underground. Despite major label releases (Atlantic), tours supporting bands du jour (Spin Doctors – the albatross carried by many; Stone Temple Pilots etc) and numerous TV and film soundtrack placements, it seems that only recently have they been hailed as heroes. They’re currently touring with Melvins, which is deliciously mental.
Released on their self-titled album (before the charity made them add a ‘d’ and a ‘k’), ‘Linda Blair 1984’ is faster, heavier and even more dizzying than the Redd Kross you may expect. The glam element is rarely referenced in conjunction with the U.S. Underground, apart from when Malfunkshun are being discussed, but the influence is front and centre here.
“Kidnapped, raped, and possessedLinda is the Best”
10 Minute Warning – ‘Stooge’
The fact that the set specifies 1984 as the kick-off means there’s no Wipers or The Fartz. The latter featured Paul Solger and Duff McKagan, who both went on to form 10 Minute Warning, a band that definitely didn’t set cash registers ringing, given they didn’t actually release anything in their time together. Not, I hasten to add, through lack of popularity, but it’s important to remember that in 1984, there wasn’t the proliferation of indie labels willing or able to sign every band, nor was there any interest at all in a scene in the coldest, wettest area of America. But they were a big draw live, even if it was for punks to whine about them being too slow and sludgy.
Bam Bam – ‘Villains (Also Wear White’)
Thrilling to see Bam Bam included, though that’s not to suggest that they don’t deserve their spot, only that history seems to have done everything it can to bury them. Singer Tina Bell was a significant figure in the scene, demonstrating that being a black woman was no obstacle to being in a band; indeed, gender and ethnicity have never seemingly been an issue for bands in terms of recruitment, as we’ll see later in the set, though with grim inevitability, crowds were another matter.
Bam Bam beat many by releasing something on vinyl, opting to self-release it before the likes of Sub Pop had yet fully formed. The band, with her husband Tom Martin on guitar, future nearly-everybody-drummer Matt Cameron, and Scott Legerwood on bass, released an EP which attracted little attention, and despite her imperious control of the stage and incredible voice, they were overlooked by labels in the free-for-all when the floodgates opened, and not even high-profile support slots could help them get their due. Bell died tragically young, aged 55, as a result of alcohol addiction, after an attempt to launch her career in Europe failed. ‘Villaisn (Also Wear White)’ sounds huge today, an absolute hurricane.
Poison 13 – ‘ One Step Closer’
I don’t think it would have occurred to me to include Poison 13, but it makes perfect sense. Founded by ex-Big Boy members Tim Kerr (around whom much of alternative music revolved for several years) and Chris Gates, Poison 13 had the bluesy sloppiness combined with the heaviness and irreverence that became synonymous with *cough* grunge. As a rule of thumb, anything to do with Tim Kerr is worth getting. ‘One Step Closer’ has the raw chills of 60s garage bands with a ‘howl at the moon’ kind of feral swipe of the talons that make you feel thoroughly alive.
Meat Puppets – ‘Swimming Ground’
Meat Puppets will forever be associated with Nirvana due to their appearance on the seminal unplugged session, which is great as it means sales of their second album will always tick over, and the occasional punt at some of their major label work (which is not to be dismissive – ‘No Joke!’ is a staggering album, buy it at once). But this still leaves a huge amount of their catalogue going overlooked, which is pretty much criminal. It says much about the curation of this set that they have chosen a track from the band’s 1985 album, ‘Up on the Sun’, a tremendous album that I hope will now receive at least a little more love. ‘Swimming Ground’ is such a lovely song, full of the Puppets’ naivety, broad sunscorched landscapes, and extraordinary finger picking.
Feast – ‘Look for the Light’
Feast is a band you often see on flyers for shows around Seattle and the surrounding areas from the mid-80s – they were heavy, reliable, and incredibly well-connected to the local scene. Central to this was drummer Dan Peters, who will drop up several more times yet. ‘Look for Light’ has a really Soundgarden-esque, Sabbathy groan and a crunchy chorus. They could certainly have shifted a few records, but slightly due to the fact they couldn’t quite settle on a direction, slightly to the fact that Dan was so in demand from other bands needing a top drummer, and slightly through putting Bruce Pavitt’s nose out of joint at Sub Pop, nothing beyond a cassette appeared until relatively recently. This track is new to me, but it’s an absolute belter.
The Scientists – ‘If it’s the Last Thing I Do’
So, here’s what I didn’t tell you at the start – a fair portion of this set is given over to Australian bands. Nothing wrong with that, and it becomes clear very quickly that the DNA running through both music scenes is surprisingly similar. Uniquely so? I’m not so sure. I feel a completely separate set released to cover the Oz scene would have served everyone better – doubtless one will appear, given the treasure trove that exists. Led by Kim Salmon, they had been around since as early as 1978, and attracted a relatively small but fanatical following (including Mark Arm), offering a Gun Club-like small town preacher vibe across a host of albums, all released away from the usual US labels, meaning they tended to be an ‘in you know, you know’ commodity. ‘If it’s the Last Thing I Do’ has more of a hip swing than a head bang, but heaviness was only ever part of the equation for the majority of the bands included here.
Hüsker Dü – ‘Crystal’
Not much to say about Hüsker Dü that hasn’t already been said; they were a staple in record racks of indie stores worldwide for years, but seem to have dropped off the map somewhat. Having so many records released on SST hasn’t helped – their availability is still sketchy, with Greg Ginn‘s control over his label’s oeuvre still dictator-like, and since the death of drummer Grant Hart, there is no clamouring for a reformation. In all honesty, I was never a fan (though I enjoyed listening to ‘Crystal’ – maybe my tastes have changed), but I always find it fascinating when you suddenly realise that a band you seemed to see or hear mentioned constantly has started to fade into the shadows.
Malfunkshun – ‘My Only Fan’
Another band, alongside Green River, to appear on the seminal compilation ‘Deep Six’, Malfunkshun were brothers Andrew and Kevin Wood, and drummer Regan Hagar. Few musicians were as universally loved as Andrew, at least by those in the scene around him. His obsession with glam, stage theatrics and gift for performance are undeniable, but I’ve never quite ‘got it’ (though I prefer them to the band they morphed into, Mother Love Bone). I think you had to be there. ‘My Only Fan’ is full of Wood, “Sock it to meh!” bravado, grooving guitar and widdly Kiss-isms. Daft, but endearingly so.
Dinosaur Jr. – ‘Little Furry Things’
It would’ve been odd not to include them – a perfect embodiment of ear-wrecking power and disparaging, forlorn lyrics about failure and what might have been. After the apathy that greeted their first album, ‘Dinosaur’, we’re lucky they had the determination to release ‘You’re Living All Over Me’, a record that very slightly turned down the volume but refined the band, most especially J’s, commitment to his vocal delivery and worldview. The deliberately lo-fi production was embraced by many who bought it on release, seeing not only that they didn’t have to pay big bucks to make themselves sound like Aerosmith, but also that the subsequent engagement that this punk ethic – if not sound – had with audiences was intoxicatingly powerful. ‘Little Furry Things’, inevitably about J failing to get his girl, has the crashing elephant guitar carnage coupled with longing, yearning, and melody. There’s your template, everyone.
Soundgarden – ‘Hunted Down’
Exciting to think that there will be people who hear ‘Hunted Down’ here for the first time. Along with ‘Nothing to Say’, they don’t just encompass Sabbath riffs but also the metal chops that Soundgarden really had in their early years, with genuine terror and threat in their songs. Harking back to what was said about Tina from Bam Bam earlier, it’s really not appreciated enough that Soundgarden were always warmly embraced by their peers and audiences, the fact that half the band were of Asian descent is completely irrelevant.
The feeling ‘on the ground’ at the time was that it would be Soundgarden, Mudhoney or Tad that would hit the big time, if anyone from the scene did, and Soundgarden fulfilled their potential, being quick off the mark to sign with a major, A&M, in 1988. Were they the first grunge band to do so? Well, what’s grunge..?
U-Men – ‘Solid Action’
This really is the best overview of the scene since ‘Sub Pop 200’ – anyway, I digress. U-Men were as pivotal to helping put Seattle on the musical map (in an alternative sense – let’s not muddy the waters with Kenny G, Queensrÿche or Sir Mix-a-Lot…actually, now I think about it, no room for Heart on here either. Hmm.) Formed in 1980 and, over the course of nearly a decade, featuring such luminaries as Tom Price, Charlie “Chaz” Ryan, Robin Buchan, Jim Tillman, Tom Hazelmyer and Tony “Tone Deaf” Ransom among their ranks, U-Men has an irremitingly filthy sound and a tone of dark humour which bled into mock…or maybe real hatred. A smattering of urgent, ferocious singles never led to a full album until a couple of collections many years later. Hugely influential and important, they coulda been huge. Ish.
Pixies – ‘Caribou’
It would have been easy not to include The Pixies – they’ve had their dues now for some years, were always loved by the UK press and never struggled for fan adoration, but it’s easy to forget how strange they were. Lyrically provocative, dual lead singers, a bastardising of song conventions, they were X without being lumped in with a regional scene. And, of course, the song choice isn’t to take the easy route and go with something from ‘Surfer Rosa’ or an obvious Nirvana-esque track like ‘U-Mass’. ‘Caribou’ lives in its own little magic land, the kind of off-kilter world that comes from living away from the mainstream of ideas.
feedtime – ‘Curtains’
Back to Australia and New South Wales this time. feedtime were something of a word-of-mouth band – their releases were almost exclusive on Sydney-based label Aberrant, and it was not until the ’90s and 2000s that bands like AmpRep and Sub Pop issued singles and compilations. ‘Curtains’ shows off a very obvious lineage to Mudhoney’s ‘Sweet Young Thing’ whilst the saxophone emergency siren offers yet another glimpse at the country’s determination to have woodwind take part in alternative rock. It’s a grinding, sweeping, almost intoxicating 4-and-a-bit minutes, with nods to other bands and genres but stuck firmly in a sweaty box in scorched earth. Mesmerising.
The Replacements – ‘The Ledge’
As with Hüsker Dü, Paul Westerberg and The Replacements are never far away from conversations about the alternative music scene during this period. Also like Hüsker Dü, The Replacements largely go straight over my head. It all feels a bit to ‘tidy’ to me. You could just have easily slung REM on here. Hey, you can’t win ’em all!
Flaming Lips – ‘Maximum Dream for Evil Knievel’
Few bands of the era have changed their sound and image as much as Flaming Lips. They’re pretty high up on my non-existent list of bands I never expected to go mainstream, let alone appear endlessly on ads and soundtracks. Taken from their second album, ‘Oh My Gawd’, this is not untypical of their odd song structures of the time – stopping, starting, lurching, forgetting where their shoes are – it’s as angular and obtuse as anything Butthole Surfers were doing, just a slightly different mix of drugs. There is genuinely nothing at all to suggest they had either the ability or inclination to change tack so effectively. Extraordinary.
Green River – ‘This Town’
I feel a little cheated Green River gets to be on here twice at the expense of a different band, but then we’re two years on, and two years is a long time in politics and grunge. Steve Turner has moved on, and the ferocity is more metal than garage, and the band was starting to be pulled apart by Arm’s determination to stick to his indie roots, whilst the others courted mainstream corporate rock. Great song though.
“I’ve been driven to the end of my rope”
Cosmic Psychos – ‘Can’t I Come In’
There are few bands I go as far out of my way to recommend than Cosmic Psychos, and I think this is more than justified behaviour. They’re just so…fun. Fun is not what people think of when they think of grunge, or even the alternative scene as a whole during this period, but it’s absolutely what it is. They’re so unashamed of who they are, proud of where they come from, yet utterly dismissive of it at the same time. Even without the fact that very few of the actual American bands in this set come from Seattle, Australia’s Cosmic Psychos go to prove that it’s how you perceive your surroundings, both geographically and culturally, that’s important, and what brought so many like minds together was the irreverence they had; the distrust for convention; the confidence they had in not saying ‘we’re better’ but ‘hey – it’s all shit/great everywhere, isn’t it?’ Glorious. Buy everything.
The Celibate Rifles – ‘Jesus on TV’
Always a pretty weak band name, but they’re one of the most well-known Oz bands on this collection, and one of the most lauded punk bands from the Antipodes. I’ve never been a massive fan, but that’s just my own taste. ‘Jesus is on TV’ is perky, bright and immediate, and I fully appreciate how they certainly opened doors for other bands to play they music they wanted Down Under and beyond, but it’s just…there.
Happy Flowers – ‘Mom and Dad Like the Baby More Than Me’
Completely new to me, Happy Flowers comprised – wait for it – Mr. Anus (Charlie Kramer) and Mr. Horribly Charred Infant (John Beers) and formed in 1983 in Virginia. They make an awful lot of noise for only two people, with agonisingly loud (at any volume) distorted guitar and cracked lyrics about growing up in Weirdsville and growing up even stranger. New York label Homestead picked them up and ran with them, and all credit for doing so – they may be the ugliest babies at the creche, but they’re also the most interesting.
Disc Two
Chronologically, we’re around about the stage Melody Maker and NME have sent journos across to see what all the fuss is about. Several of the bands that laid the groundwork have already imploded, and those bands whose members hadn’t quite decided whether they should stick or twist have largely made their minds up. Of course, there were also bands that not only planted their flag on the battlefield, but also continue to create music today. Which leads us nicely onto…
Mudhoney – ‘Touch Me I’m Sick’
Maybe the one track that this collection simply couldn’t have lived without, ‘Touch Me I’m Sick’ is as perfect a single as has appeared in any decade in any scene. Funny, yet when broken down, more than a little cutting, it was released on Sub Pop on brown vinyl with a picture sleeve of a toilet. In the same month of release, April 1988, Poison released ‘Every Rose Has Its Thorn’. Elsewhere, Guns ‘n Roses and 10 Minute Warning’s Duff had gone more times platinum than Cinderella‘s combined bouffants. Corners were definitely being taken.
Bundle of Hiss – ‘Rabies’
Another imperious choice, Bundle of Hiss rarely make it beyond grunge family tree references, so to give listeners an opportunity to realise how great they were in their own right is to be applauded. To join together the dots for you, bassist Kurt Danielson later went on to provide bowel-churning rumbling in Tad. A victim of band members being unable to decide where they truly belonged, it’s somewhat ironic that Kurt and – with some inevitability – Dan Peters, remained the fulcrum throughout, with even Tad Doyle himself briefly joining towards the end. Where did guitarist and singer Jamie Lane end up? I honestly don’t know. A mystery. Bundle of Hiss’s demos were eventually tidied up and released by Loveless Records. They are sensational.
The Fluid – ‘Cold Outside’
One of the most beloved live acts of the time, with a recorded output that went some way to explain why, the problem The Fluid had was seemingly that their biggest cheerleaders existed in other bands, not the press or radio controllers. Another band, if proof were needed, that Seattle was far from where ALL alt rock came and Sub Pop artists came from (they’re from Denver – in fact, they were the first sign that Sub Pop was not going to be a local label for local bands), they had – and when they occasionally reconvene – still have, an urgency that makes you suspect there’s a riot around the corner. Comprising singer John Robinson, Matt Bischoff (bass), James Clower, Rick Kulwicki (both on guitar), and drummer Garrett Shavlik. Did I invent the fact that John originally left to become a model?! I can’t see anything online; I must have been drunk on The Fluid.
Cat Butt – ’64 Funny Cars’
Cat Butt was a band who were often referenced to point at Sub Pop in a sort of ‘look at them all being daft’ way, purely going by the band’s name and not what they sounded like. They only released one album (‘Journey to the Centre of Cat Butt’) but toured with true dedication to the cause across America and changed members with alarming regularity, but at any given time, it was likely that a member of The U-Men, 64 Spiders or Girl Trouble was involved. Beyond the name is a band everyone who loves good time rawk should listen to – sloppy, unhinged, a vocalist gargling the lyrics and a highly collectable single on Sub Pop. Of course, ’64 Funny Cars’ isn’t on that album, and it indicated that they could only possibly have gone on to be even more glorious.
Blood Circus – ‘Two Way Santa’
Another band that could easily have been the one to break through, especially considering ‘Two Way Santa’, an angry, bellowed fist shake of a track that is as immediate as anything their stable mates Nirvana and Mudhoney released – indeed, it was Blood Circus who headlined above the pair of them. It was maybe a little too angry and grimy to break through into the mainstream, but then that supposes that every band WANTED that – if history tells us anything, it’s that you should be careful what you wish for. Blood Circus weren’t shiny enough for the metal crowd and didn’t have the sideways glances of Mudhoney, nor the willingness to appeal to quirky teens. Some bands are just wasted on the young.
Babes in Toyland – ‘Dust Cake Boy’
Everybody loved Babes in Toyland, at least that’s how it felt. Every gig was a joy, every release was ‘showing the blokes’ how to do rock properly. And yet, how many of us have the full Babes in Toyland discography in our collections? Being cynical, Babes in Toyland felt tokenistic. A lot of chest beating from music writers, which didn’t really trickle down into convincing their readers to go and buy their records. Without question, a great band, but not overly commercial and definitely not as engaging as, say L7. It was great that the scene could be so open to rock bands with female line-ups but were they amongst the best? I’d say not.
Scream – ‘Fucked Without a Kiss’
If Pete and Franz Stahl, not to mention Dave Grohl, hadn’t been in the band, I wonder if they’d have been included here? Not because of any lack of quality – Scream are SENSATIONALLY good, but it feels odd to have included a hardcore DC band, but not have also included any number of other regional bands, whether it be Fugazi, Big Black, or whoever. Maybe just one was considered enough to demonstrate how the styles were squirming around each other and how band members were becoming extremely fluid in moving to different cities and scenes, but still making an impact.
Ultra Vivid Scene – ‘Mercy Seat’
I honestly don’t really understand how Ultra Vivid Scene made it to an early shortlist, let alone inclusion. I always thought they were British (probably because they sound eerily like Jesus and Mary Chain) and only by reckoning had one breakout song – this one. It sounds like a more fuzzed-out jangly maraca-shaker than anything we’ve heard so far, which sets the musical scene a little but suggests they had an impact of some kind…an impact I aren’t aware of. A bizarre choice.
Girl Trouble – ‘Riverbed’
This is more like it. Formed in Tacoma, Washington in 1983, Kurt P. Kendall (vocals, saxophone), Bon Von Wheelie (drums), Kahuna (guitar), and Dale Phillips (bass) mixed garage rock with Elvis and an irreverence and twisted comedy that summed up much of the scene far more than black and white images of despair and loss. Having appeared on ‘Sub Pop 200’ covering a Banana Splits song, they released a host of singles and EPS, plus five albums on numerous labels, but inexplicably never had a hit, nor enjoyed anything like to retrospective love they deserve. Sometimes I really wonder what’s wrong with music fans.
Crunchbird – ‘Subway Circle’
Another band that debuted opening for Blood Circus, Crunchbird shared stages with the great and the good, easing off on the volume a little as years progressed, settling on a sound that had echoes of Meat Puppets’ homeliness and lyrics which, like many of their contemporaries, didn’t dwell much on things like conventional love affairs or romantic gestures. The cassette-only release at the time had seemed in danger of being lost, but fortunately, there is now a CD compilation to help us understand that even the supporting cast in the alternative scene has a lot to say that is worth listening to.
Soundgarden – ‘Flower’
Such odd, yet praiseworthy choices on these four discs. This is still the same line-up as ‘Hunted Down’, though we are now listening to the single released from their first album, ‘Ultramega OK’. Their style hasn’t changed – they’re still a cauldron of noise, drop D tunings, and Chris’ yowls. They became…maybe more considered over the years, but despite major labeldom and, yes, owning MTV with ‘Black Hole Sun’, they never came near to selling out nor being the same guys who played on this (apart from literally – Ben taking over from Hiro on bass). If you wonder why they’re on here twice, it’s because they deserve to be.
Tad – ‘Behemoth’
One of my favourite bands, and so it’s difficult for me to be objective in any way. Tad was genuinely considered to be one of the bands most likely to break through into the mainstream, which, considering how they were marketed, is bizarre. Tad the band (and the person) was far more clued up than they ever let on, from being classically trained musically to having genuinely poetic groundings, the volcano-like bursts, lyrics about Ed Gein and drink driving on ice (not at the same time!), and record sleeves that depicted them as backwards backwoodsmen were jokey stylings that sadly became toaken as fact by some. It’s not too late to fall in love with Tad. Triumphant; funny; inspiring; fascinating – a band who existed to make music and bring you along for the ride. When they did eventually sign for a major, it was with baffled acceptance, like several before them. They could never change for any amount of money, and for that, we should be forever grateful.
Kill Sybil – ‘Olympia’
With Tammy Watson on vocals and, at least initially, a pair of Schemels (future-Hole Patty on drums and Larry on guitar). Kill Sybil released most of their material on the excellent eMpTy label. ‘Olympia’ is certainly their most ‘known’ track, and features Watson’s Perry Farrell-like howls and a tidal wave of guitar squall. Interesting that Jane’s Addictions aren’t featured here – possibly due to rights. It felt rather more like Jane’s was following a rulebook than pretty much every band featured here, and the maelstrom of sound on this single is typical of what the differences were.
Love Battery – ‘Between the Eyes’
Tad is notorious for snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, but surely in second place in the bad luck stakes in Love Battery. A cautionary tale for bands, even nowadays, in terms of appreciating that signing to a major is not necessarily the answer, they had the songs, the personality and the ability to conquer the world, but found themselves at the hands of Polygram, who faffed about and left them with a complete mess that Sub Pop picked up and didn’t fix. The train had gone. That Love Battery aren’t famous is sickening. They should be where Oasis got to…but then, the good guys never win in music, right? Listen to the guitar tone on ‘Between the Eyes’ and go weak at the knees. Those playing grunge bingo can tick off Dan Peters as drummer again, by the way.
Seaweed – ‘Inside’
Another band from Tacoma, and another band that somehow didn’t sell the amount of records they deserved. It’s more difficult to pinpoint what went awry here – the record labels always supported them; they always snagged decent support slots (including Screaming Trees around the ‘Dust’ period), and they even got decent TV and film opportunities (‘Beavis & Butthead‘ and ‘Clerks‘ to name but two). ‘Inside’ sees them early in their incarnation, hitting the catchy melodies before you’ve even sat down, and exuding FUN. Fun! Seeing them live was so life-affirming and joyous, absolutely everything people on TV and in magazines would tell you the alternative scene wasn’t. Bah.
Skin Yard – ‘Start at the Top’
This really is a ‘greatest hits’ collection in every sense apart from the ‘hits’ bit. Skin Yard were monumental – two of the greatest drummers in music – Matt Cameron; then Barrett Martin, (but also, briefly Tad’s Steve Weid, and then Greg Gilmore – remarkable!), Jack Endino, Pat Pederson, Daniel House, Ben McMillan – it was like a grunge edition of ‘This is Your Life’. Zero attempts at being commercial, Skin Yard were heroes, waving bass-heavy depth charges in your face and then leaving you for dead. ‘Start at the Top’ still sounds like the scene’s rallying cry.
Gas Huffer – ‘Firebug’
U-Men’s Tom Price reappeared with Gas Huffer, an old school garage band with a sense of humour to rival Mudhoney’s, and a visual style they carried through their myriad of vinyl releases. Gas Huffer always sounds like they’re tripping up to try and catch up with the drummer, and that isn’t meant in any way to sound like a negative. Their songs feel like everyone is hanging on for dear life (not unlike the non-appearing Supersuckers) and made for some of the most enjoyable 45s released during this period. It feels in hindsight that they were just a couple of months too late to the party with every release, overshadowed by another band that had nipped in before them.
Mudhoney – ‘In and Out of Grace’
Did I mention that Mark Arm co-curated this?
Helltrout – ‘Smoking Lounge’
What? You don’t own any Helltrout? You might do a double-take when ‘Smoking Lounge’ kicks in, such is the initial similarity to Melvins. It’s the first Helltrout I’ve heard myself, to be fair, and it’s a great listen, though beyond knowing they toured a lot during the 90s, I don’t know what impact they had locally or regionally. Sludgy as all hell, I’m looking now to see where Melvins are…Disc 4! What’s that all about?
Mother Love Bone – ‘Thru Fade Away’
Of course, they were going to be on here. The widely held understanding is that without question, they would have been huge, essentially taking the place of Pearl Jam and enjoying long-lasting and deserved adulation. I’ve never quite heard it myself. It wasn’t Andrew Wood that I felt would have been the stumbling block, necessarily. I don’t think the songs overall were that good, too many ideas, too many riffs getting in the way without actually contributing to the song. Unpopular view, I know, but I think Wood was wasted on them.
Disc 3
Sonic Youth – ‘Kool Thing’
I suppose the fact that Sonic Youth only appear this far into the set is a nod to the fact that even they were selling shitloads of records at this stage. If you want to look a bit deeper, you could suggest this particular track was included due to its LL Cool J references. Brit Pop was just on the horizon, but the other exploding subculture was undoubtedly Hip Hop, a scene which rallied people, empowered them and gave them a voice unlike the vast majority of musical movements. I think Sonic Youth, in their own right, did that to some extent. Girls can pick up a guitar. Avant-garde isn’t for the purely pretentious (honest!). Noise is good.
L7 -‘Shove’
L7 were cooler than Babes in Toyland. And Hole, for that matter, but they’re for discussion later. Guys didn’t necessarily fancy L7 – they wanted TO BE L7. Like so many classic rock songs, ‘Shove’ feels like it must surely always have existed. Anthemic, ugly, irresistible, the band didn’t hang around on Sub Pop for long (there were no ties to Seattle, or the existing scene as such; they were Californians who had grown up on old skool punk) and had several deserved days in the sun, especially in the UK, which fully endorsed their unwillingness to behave themselves. Image, gender and all that malarky out of the way, L7 have SUCH great songs.
Toadies – ‘I Hope You Die’
I’ll tell you another band who aren’t on here – My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult. They have nothing at all to do with Toadies, but they were a band that seemed to turn up on the endless stream of compilations at the time. Soundtracks were often found to have an Alt Rock band on them, often a band that hadn’t quite broken through, that the record label couldn’t work out what to do with, short of putting them on tour with Spin Doctors. But it wasn’t just soundtracks. There were tributes to every band and artist you could think of, whether there was a death anniversary or celebration or not, or there was a label round-up, a regional spotlight or a completely leftfield theme that some exec had dreamed up. One of the absolute tip-top gold star award winners of these was ‘Saturday Morning: Cartoons’ Greatest Hits’, in which the likes of Matthew Sweet covered the ‘Scooby Doo’ theme and Rev Horton Heat covered ‘Stop the Pigeon’. Sensational stuff. Toadies covered ‘Goolie Get-Together’. I wasn’t that keen, but this is fantastically daft, upbeat, chuggy and happy sentiments of wishing death upon someone. The 90s, on occasion, were ace.
Pavement – ‘From Now On’
I really couldn’t stand Pavement – or to put it another way, I still can’t stand Pavement. Simply too drippy for me. In my teens at the time, I could see slackerdom being presented to me, and believe me, I couldn’t be arsed doing stuff as much as the next man, but turning it into an art form felt disrespectful to the artists they were lumped alongside. The bands I loved may have made playing look effortless, but I was never under any doubt that they were giving their all. I bought a Pavement CD quite recently from a car boot fair for 25p. I already don’t know where it is.
The Thrown-Ups – ‘Stockboy, Superhero’
The number of Mudhoney-related acts on here really is quite outrageous. Credit to Mr Arm for doing everything possible to up his rubles. The Thrown-Ups, after some line-up changes, settle upon Mark (on drums!), Steve on guitar, John Leighton Beezer on bass and Ed Fotheringham on vox. Ed’s incredibly distinctive artwork was a common sight on albums of the time, especially Mudhoney’s. Artists and designers were as much a part of the scene as musicians, whether it be Tom Hazelmeyer, Art Chantry or Frank Kozik. Rock stars one and all. The Thrown-Ups’ schtick was that they’d turn up on stage, or at recording sessions, completely unrehearsed and just see what happened. The expectation was that it was just a laugh. Of course, people loved it and bought their records.
Poison Idea – ‘Feel the Darkness’
Is there a Poison Idea box set? There should be – with a raft of band members over the years and a sound which evolved from ferocious and angry, to ferocious, angry, and surprisingly clever, Poison Idea were always slightly adjacent to the alt rock scene, which is odd given they come from the Pacific Northwest (Portland). They’d been going since 1980, so maybe it was simply that they already existed comfortably and had a secure fanbase. You could have quite a sizeable record collection just by dedicating yourself to buying Poison Idea records. Some bands sound like how they look. If you’ve never heard them, there’s your heads-up.
The Breeders – ‘Glorious’
When Pixies split up, you were expected to choose camp Frank or camp Kim. I chose both because I couldn’t understand the fuss. Nearly everyone went with Kim because they fancied her. Them’s your apples, Frank! I would never suggest Frank Black’s solo stuff or The Breeders need to be pitted against each other; I love both, though I played Frank Black‘s stuff SO much at the time that The Breeders now feel fresher. Again, they could have been so much bigger. Yes, they had tracks that you would hear at every indie and rock nightclub without fail, yes, their releases would top the indie charts (never meant anything at the time – looking back, it looks almost pathetic that they had to invent their own chart), but why couldn’t they have become more than just representatives and not accepted by the masses. The masses are arseholes, of course, so maybe it’s for the best.
Dinosaur Jr – ‘The Wagon’
On here twice? Cherry Red have the rights at the moment. Fair enough.
Hole – ‘Teenage Whore’
I enjoy listening to Hole more than I’d like to. I never liked Courtney. She may have lived her punk rock life in plain sight for us all to revere her as our Joan of Arc, but I never felt it was anything but pantomime. I’m a great advocate for separating the artist from their art. Let us not cast out our Gary Glitter albums. Hold close your Rolf landscape. But Hole was so focused on Courtney, I find even now that it’s difficult to listen to more than a couple of tracks at a time, tops, which is annoying as I do like the band’s music. I imagine some Smiths fans have a similar predicament.
Nomeansno – ‘Body Bag’
So difficult to type without your fingers insisting there should be spaces. Another band that I find as adjacent to the alternative scene rather than part of it – they took the Alternative Tentacles route, which kind of painted you into a corner in terms of how you were perceived. Would a Nomeansno fan also like Soundgarden or Pixies? It doesn’t feel like an easy fit, not that my own tastes have any rhyme or reason to them. I’ve never really listened to them. I’m still not warming to them after hearing this.
7 Year Bitch – ‘Lorna’
The number of women-led bands on this set isn’t an attempt to balance the right-on books, there really were so many opportunities for girls to start a band and not fear that they would have their progress stifled (at least no more than their male counterparts). Surprisingly, given the chronology of this box set, they appear before and not after The Gits, to whom they owe a huge debt. They hung around for only three albums – one on Atlantic – before splitting, more a reflection of the fact that by that stage, the world’s gaze had moved onto shinier, less interesting things than their quality.
Screaming Trees – ‘Uncle Anesthesia’
I sometimes post bits of my Screaming Trees collection up on social media. There’s a lot of it. “Wow, how did you find a copy of that?” might come up the cry. The fact is, that until well after they’d split up, you couldn’t give Screaming Trees records away, whether it was their independent period or major label stuff on Epic. Their major label period is a perfect example of how bands were treated as commodities without any understanding of their music or their fanbase. The album from which this was the title track saw them given Terry Date as producer, local to Seattle, and yes, he’d been hugely successful in working with Soundgarden, but Screaming Trees were not Soundgarden. Intertwining harmonies, psychedelia and Lanegan‘s barigroan, did not lend themselves to what was ostensibly metal production. Chris Cornell stepped in to try and help, ironically, but it was a shadow of the power and skill of the band. Further releases were recorded but given a paltry marketing push, and they were jettisoned as quickly as they were snapped up. Don’t sign for major labels, kids.
Mercury Rev – ‘Syringe Mouth’
One of my first jobs, perhaps inevitably, was working in an indie record shop in Leeds. I used to look at Mercury Rev’s ‘Yerself is Steam’ debut on the racks and think how frightening it looks. I’m not sure why I felt that – the image is harmless enough. Could it be the typeface? Has anyone ever been scared by a typeface?! Early one morning, I put it on and found that it was also scary to listen to. I didn’t know anything about them, and their singer seemed to have a quiet malevolence hidden behind a calm exterior, which occasionally slipped to reveal something horrible. The whole thing felt dangerous, like they weren’t offering you drugs but were force-feeding you them through your ears. After singer David Baker left, they enjoyed something of a Flaming Lips transformation, but those early releases…wow.
Calamity Jane – ‘Say it’
Another Portland band, Calamity Jane, has secured their place in the musical history books in an unfortunate manner, being the band that was notoriously heckled and pelted with piss at a gig supporting Nirvana in Buenos Aires, prompting Kurt to give a shambolic performance in response. They split up pretty much straight after. They definitely had a Nirvana bounce about them, perhaps even approaching something skin to pastiche, and, in a scene that didn’t regularly take itself seriously, the yarn was wearing a little thin for some, clearly.
Eric’s Trip – ‘Lost’
Eric’s Trip was another band where you simply couldn’t give their stuff away – if there was still a Sub Pop section in a record store, Eric’s Trip were the releases that sat there forlornly, sporting their shamefully reduced prices. Dream pop hadn’t really become a thing yet, and shoegaze already had its quota filled – now they’re treated to double-disc tribute albums and documentaries. Eric’s Trip!
Thrillhammer – ‘Bleed’
Yet another band from Portland – what were they putting in the water back then? You could easily have included the excellent, too. In fact, Hazel’s Pete Krebs was also in Thrillhammer, so maybe it was a case of one or t’other. They barely lasted a year, which was becoming a reasonable run for bands where the churn rate was becoming obscene. Just realised Pond aren’t included here. Unforgivable.
Cop Shoot Cop – ‘Discount Rebellion’
Cop Shoot Cop seemed to play at the Duchess, a couple of doors down from where I worked, every other week. By any stretch of the imagination, Cop Shoot Cop weren’t grunge, and even ‘alternative’ feels an odd fit. But that’s where we were as the ’90s sped along, lines in the sand became increasingly blurred, scenes changed their name for no good reason, and bands were given labels because they had to have a badge – them’s were the rules. They were sometimes lumped in with industrial – they weren’t industrial either, but they did sound like a metal smelting factory collapsing. Although from New York, ‘Discount Rebellion’ has echoes of Wisconsin’s Killdozer.
*chops off fingers to prevent bemoaning lack of Killdozer*
Treepeople – ‘Ballard Bitter’
Adding to our modest list of bands that surely will never become famous are Doug Martsch’s Treepople. Treepeople did indeed not become famous, but Martsch’s subsequent band, Built to Spill, certainly did, and there’s not a massive gap between them. Treepeople were an odd mixture. There was a slight tweeness (not Treeness) that irked, but they had clever lyrics to go with the fuzzy, clunky melodies and were very much the hairy jumper types that ended up for at least some stage of their career on K Records. At the previously mentioned record shop I worked in, there was a Saturday worker called Judith. She told me once she’d been to see Sebadoh earlier in the week, and had handed Lou Barlow a book of poetry, which he had graciously accepted. I think Treepeople would have had Judiths handing them poetry books, too.
Nubbin – ‘Macaroni’
Nubbin didn’t even manage to make it through their debut album recording sessions before splitting up, which is a shame, as there were high hopes for them. Well, relatively high hopes. A mini album appeared to no interest whatsoever. But then, we had reached the stage where bands were called Nubbin and tracks were called ‘Macaroni’.
Disc 4
The final disc offers a glimpse at how the scene had progressed over the decade, both in terms of artists who were still in the game and newcomers who had picked up the baton to take it in slightly new directions.
Temple of the Dog – ‘Pushin’ Forward Back’
The album that introduced Eddie Vedder to the world as part of a tribute to Andrew Wood also shows that Chris Cornell, even before ‘Black Hole Sun’, had become a figurehead for the scene, someone who had earned the respect of both bands and audiences alike. The album holds up particularly well, a carefully judged collection of tracks that manages not to be maudlin but still carries a potent air of grief.
The Monkeywrench – ‘I’m Blown’
More Mark Arm! Ever the economists, Poison 13 fans Mark and Steve met up with the band’s Tim Kerr and expressed their admiration. Kerr was sat on some unfinished tracks and they were duly worked on and released under the banner of The Monkeywrench, also featuring Tom Price of The U-Men and Gas Huffer and Martin Bland from Lubricated Goat (who should also be on here, as I moaned about earlier). Garagey, but a little bluesier than Mudhoney, every time I think I’ve got everything they released, something else appears out of the woodwork. This marks the end of Mudhoney appearances on the box set, but the band Bloodloss are also well worth checking out, featuring Mark on vocals and Bland again on drums.
Stone Temple Pilots – ‘Sex Type Thing’
Stone Temple Pilots were considered pariahs by many fans of the scene – bandwagon hoppers of the worst kind, galumphing in on a major label, having put in none of the mileage of the old campaigners and with a guitar and vocal sound that, it would be fair to say, sounded a little ‘borrowed’. I actually like the first album, but to counter that, I’d also say they’re pretty much the worst band I’ve ever seen live. Whatever your views of the band, this track definitely felt like a ‘foot on the ball’ moment – it was clear the music I coveted as exciting, untainted and ‘real’ was being commodified in an incrasingly uncivilised manner, records (or more accurately, CDs) being churned out at a ridiculous rate, seeing what would stick rather than trying to understand what they were marketing. The CD aspect is pertinent – vinyl was really dying a death at this stage, released very much as a ‘well we might as press press it up as we have a factory’ item than with any expectation of it selling a lot, and so coloured vinyl was often pressed to offer some kind of incentive. Few bit though, meaning that releases from the mid-90s to the end of the decade now go for eye-watering sums.
Honcho Overload – ‘Sugarfoot’
Not a band I’ve heard before, Honcho Overload came from Illinois and released a couple of singles and albums on local label, Mud Records. A couple of years previous, doubtless a major would have taken a chance on them, but we were already at a time where labels had snapped up every band that was available and were now looking at what they had and had absolutely no idea what to do with them. Good track though.
Luscious Jackson – ‘Keep on Rockin’ It’
Lucious Jackson felt very much like what majors felt like the next stage of evolution for alternative should look like. Releasing the majority of their work on Beastie Boys‘ Grand Royal label, they had a sexiness that, putting personal tastes to one side, couldn’t be accused of using sex to sell records. There’s an interesting line from Mark Arm in the sleeve notes to this set in which he states, “There wasn’t a lot of dick swinging“, which indeed there wasn’t. The music was often heavy, sonically and lyrically, but it didn’t feel macho. It was for everyone and created by everymen (and women). I didn’t quite get Lucious Jackson at the time – it felt like they were diluting my world. Now (checks watch) 30 years on (for fuck’s sake) it feels almost intoxicatingly reflective of the time. MD 20/20, cigs from the machine in the pub and hopeful glances at the girl with the dyed red hair.
Cheater Slicks – ‘Murder’
Bassless garage punk trio Cheater Slicks thought better of 4 strings after a brief period when, of all people, Merle Allin, brother of GG, had a whirl. They’re a great band, no ego, no messing about, just straight into 2-and-a-bit-minute revelry. In my head, loads of their releases were on the inestimable Estrus Records, but it turns out that amounted just just one 7″ out an absolute shitload! Custodians included In the Red and Crypt, both also very reliable vendors of heartbeat quickening discs. This live version of ‘Murder’ has the ominous swagger of Jon Spencer, the string-strangling skree of Thee Headcoats and a 60s hit of joss sticks.
Beasts of Bourbon – ‘Just Right’
If you’re going to lean on the Australian alternative scene, it feels only right that Beasts of Bourbon get a look in. Kim Salmon is back, are James Baker and Boris Sujdovic from The Scientists, but, at least on this track, the saxophone has been left by the barbie. Bluesy jams in a dimly-lit swamp, they sound like The Stooges wearing smarter shoes, or ZZ Top wearing worse shoes. Brilliant for late nights in drinking those bottles of spirits that only have a bit left in them.
The Gits – ‘Here’s to Your Fuck’
The Gits were wonderful, and this track, taken from their debut album on C/Z Records (and obviously referencing the film ‘Blue Velvet‘), is so fast, so stunningly thrilling and urgent that you can’t help but smile. But, of course, enjoying The Gits is always tempered by the knowledge that singer, Mia Zapata, was murdered so brutally, and the crime left unresolved for so many years after. It felt that the callous, unforgiving, nonchalance of the world, the alternative scene railed against and mocked, was having its own say. None of these bands was trying to change the world, but that still didn’t stop the world from begrudging them.
Superchunk – ‘Precision Auto’
“Superchunk, SocietySunset Strip, Screaming Skull Society,
Husker DuLemonheads, SST”
So sang Sonic Youth on ‘Screaming Skull’. Superchunk still walk among us, taking their cue from bands like The Replacements, with the DIY ethic that bands like Sonic Youth adored. This was alternative music in a more sanitised form, ‘safe’ indie music for those with more delicate stomachs.
Dead Moon – ‘It’s OK’
From their formation in 1987 to the end of the band in 2017, when both drummer Andrew Loomis and singer and guitarist Fred Cole lost their fights against cancer, Dead Moon never compromised on their sound. Slightly cracked, a whiff of funeral parlour, and a reverb that threatens to push ear wax into your brain, you could no more tell Dead Moon how to record a song than you could ask the Pope to hum one of their tracks. They’re so brilliantly lovable, both completely wonky and perfectly formed, I honestly don’t know what to do with you if you don’t like Dead Moon.
Melvins – ‘Set Me Straight’
Surely a slight joke in putting Melvins all the way back here, but it was the band themselves who ended up having the last laugh. Perhaps the ultimate in preposterous major label signings, Melvins made no concessions at all when they signed for Atlantic, and although ‘Houdini’ is considered their most commercial work, it was still a ludicrous exercise in buying blind and having to try and get the album masters past the big boss without them hearing them. It’s not going too far to suggest many of the bands here, either, wouldn’t have got to the stage they did without Melvins laying the groundwork, and if you were to analyse the band, you would probably have the very essence of what grunge was perceived to be, though the band’s sound was never necessarily predictable. ‘Set Me Straight’ sounds positively devilish; it makes me weak at the knees…and the neck.
Patchouli Sewer – ‘Beauty Sleep’
If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I would confidently state you had made up the name Patchouli Sewer, and hadn’t even put much effort into it.
Wool – ‘Kill the Crow’
After Scream disbanded (CHEERS, DAVE), Pete and Franz formed Wool, a band that I now see released far more records than I gave them credit for. We can’t sneer at Foo Fighters for diluting Scream’s memory, as Wool also took a far more melodic approach than their previous incarnation, though the energy was still there in abundance. Signed by London, they were dropped in double-quick time, despite the fact that they had real commerciality. It simply didn’t matter at this stage: ‘the youth’ were off listening to shiny American boy bands, Spice Girls, Brit Pop and Tony Blair. Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?
Kim Salmon and the Surrealists – ‘Non Stop Action Groove’
More glowering and experimental than Salmon’s other appearances across this set, feel reassured that we have collectively paid some of his gas bill by buying this box set.
Veruca Salt – ‘All Hail Me’
Veruca Salt were what happened to alternative when you tamed it. They had hugely catchy songs, snazzy videos, and a great stylist, but I didn’t feel they were singing about my world. They’d used the cheat codes to get to the final level and had paid off the big boss with Napster vouchers. Stunning track though, gives your goose bumps mumps.
Sleep Capsule – ‘Eat it’s Tongue’
I’m not happy about that apostrophe. Not one bit. What an absolute fucker to be an emerging band from Seattle when the scene was collapsing around everyone’s ears.
Steel Wool – ‘Four Winds’
Steel Wool sound alarmingly like Nirvana, almost to parody levels, perhaps included not only as a view of Seattle music in the late ’90s but also because, let’s remember, we haven’t heard any Nirvana in this set. Steel Wool had a sense of humour that the scenes that overshadowed alt-rock were completely lacking. Does anyone laugh at White Zombie? The fact that these reviews are getting shorter says much about how much there is to say. The lifeblood has been sucked out of the scene. Death, disillusion and loss – for those who had made it this far and beyond, there was much to unpack emotionally.
Wicker Biscuit – ‘Creepy Doll’
Another short-lived Washington band, it’s a bit too indie-schmindie for me. I told you the reviews were getting shorter.
Gary Young – ‘Plant Man’
Remarkably, this is the first appearance by a solo artist. If so, I’m still crying ‘foul’ as he was previously the drummer of Pavement. Gary was always all over the place, and his ‘big hit’ ‘Plant Man’ (big as in, it featured on ‘Beavis & Butthead’) almost feels like a ‘fuck you’ to the monsters that were taking over indie and alternative music. I’ve not heard this since it came out – it sounds like grunge’s Wild Man Fischer having his last meal before his execution. This is a good thing, of course! Look out for Thurston Moore as a tree in the video!
Cellophane – ‘Tripping Fields’
We’re really on to the dregs now. Cellophane weren’t any good, plus half the band went on to form Puddle of Mudd. Oh, the humanity!
St Johnny – ‘I Hate Rock n Roll’
We’re at the end! If you’ve lasted all the way, thank you very much; it’s appreciated. St Johnny are a depressing though clever way of rounding things up. HUGE things were expected of them, but it all felt like the marketing guy was just frantically calling in favours, because absolutely no one paid any interest. They weren’t THAT bad, but it was saying nothing new, and the sound is the disappointing, stale wafer at the bottom of the biscuit tin. But what a collection of bands and tracks. I hope in years to come that this is referenced in the same breath as ‘Sub Pop 200’ and ‘Deep Six’. They were crazy times. They were sad times. They were fun times. Maybe one day some bands will do it again.
Daz Lawrence
