Tag: Best of 1990

Albums

Best albums of 1990: #3 Ride “Nowhere”

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date June 29, 2025
2 Comments on Best albums of 1990: #3 Ride “Nowhere”

At album number three on this best albums of 1990 list, we are getting even more iconic.

Ride is the legendary original shoegaze quartet from Oxford, England. Mark Gardener, Andy Bell, Steve Queralt, and Loz Colbert first formed the band back in 1988 and created a buzz with a string of cool singles. They were extraordinary for the genre in that they were relatively commercially successful, even during the first go around, even performing on some of the hip TV music shows at the time. They released four albums but the last did them in and they split acrimoniously in 1996. Of course, they re-formed triumphantly almost twenty years later, in 2014, toured globally a number of times, and have released three more excellent albums. And yeah, they are still a going concern.

“Nowhere” was Ride’s debut album. Originally released with a track listing of eight songs, the version I first heard was substantially longer with a bunch of bonus tracks from an earlier EP tacked on. This wasn’t my first exposure to Ride. I got a copy of it based on my love for their sophomore album, 1992’s “Going blank again”, which was passed to me on dubbed cassette from my friend Tim and I nearly wore out from playing. The debut by comparison was a lot more raw and immediate, with much less programming and a cleaner production. But I grew to love it just as much as the sophomore.

“Nowhere” was genre defining. It is a mass of swirling guitars, intense basslines, heavy drums, and the layered duo lead vocals of Mark and Andy just hanging out deep in the mix. Pure shoegaze perfection. Each of the eight tracks is now a classic but I’ve selected three for you to sample, just in case you’ve never had the pleasure before.

“Seagull“: “You gave me things I’d never seen. You made my life a waking dream.” The opening track on “Nowhere” is a six plus minute explosion of sounds. It is a miasma of four musicians playing the hell out of their instruments. Though somewhat buried in the haze, Loz is going full-on animal on the kit. Queralt’s bass line, though, refuses to be ignored, as muscle-bound as they come, relentless, hammering and holding up everything on a platter. Meanwhile, Bell and Gardener are punishing their guitars, playing against and with each other, conversing between jangle and feedback, and at the same time, their duo vocal attack adds yet another layer to the noise. All of it, like a tangled web to pick through, each line interesting to pull out and examine but all of it best taken together, like a tasty sugar pill that explodes in your mouth.

“Dreams burn down”: “Lying on the floor, the tears are falling down and more, her eyes speak loud but actions speak the best.” On “Dreams burn down”, Gardener takes the lead, singing about the breakup of a relationship, probably one-sided, evoking the despondency of endings. The verses are measured and even and melancholy. The drums laconic, the bass line warm and embracing, and the guitars chime, evoking a haunting, early hours feeling, where the question is raised on whether or not to finish the dregs of that last drink. But each of these verses are rudely interrupted by a burst of noise, as if each of the instruments are ripped away from their corresponding musicians and railed against by a demon intent on destroying them. The volume is flipped to eleven, matching the angst and flood of emotion. It’s almost too much. But just when you are thinking it might be a good idea to get up and adjust it, so as not to anger the neighbours, Andy, Mark, Loz, and Steve right the ship, and you settle back into your comfy spot in the bed of sound, sighing… until the next explosion and the next.

“Vapour trail”:* “Thirsty for your smile, I watch you for a while. You are a vapour trail in a deep blue sky.” “Vapour trail” is easily Ride’s most recognizable and popular tune for a reason. And even Andy Bell, who wrote this particular track, has been quoted as saying that this is the song of which he is most proud from that era. It closes “Nowhere” with a bang and an exclamation point. The funky drums that won’t quit and that string coda leads the listener reluctantly away from such an explosive mess of noise and begs for a click on the repeat button. There has been lots of conjecture over the use of effects to create that sweet guitar line that pulls the whole song together but Bell has been adamant that it came about naturally. They achieved it by twinning twelve string Rickenbackers and you can almost picture Bell looking at Mark Gardener with a nod and a smile, free and easy, embodying the whole mood of the song. It’s eyes closed on the dance floor, not quite dancing but shuffling, and not a care in the world, except for the fear that the song might end. Unfortunately, it does but the ecstasy stays, fading slowly, that beautiful, shimmering C-sharp minor–B–A–E chord progression reverbering in your eardrums.

*Pardon the bit of self-plagiarism here but I couldn’t help it. I don’t think I could have said it better than I did when I posted words for this song when it appeared at number three as part of my best tunes of 1990 list… so I didn’t…

We’ll be back in a handful of days with album #2. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:

10. The Northern Pikes “Snow in June”
9. Jane’s Addiction “Ritual de lo habitual”
8. Sinéad O’Connor “I do not want what I haven’t got”
7. The La’s “The La’s”
6. Concrete Blonde “Bloodletting”
5. Spirit of the West “Save this house”
4. The Sisters of Mercy “Vision thing”

You can also check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

Tags Alternative, Alternative Rock, Andy Bell, Best albums, Best of 1990, Dream Pop, Loz Colbert, Mark Gardener, Retro, Ride, Shoegaze, Steve Queralt

Albums

Best albums of 1990: #4 The Sisters of Mercy “Vision thing”

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date June 22, 2025
7 Comments on Best albums of 1990: #4 The Sisters of Mercy “Vision thing”

As I’ve written on these pages before, it was my friend Tim that introduced me to the iconic gothic rock band, Sisters of Mercy, way back in high school. To start with, I would hear the group playing in his parents’ borrowed car whenever we went out somewhere. Then, it was the mixed tapes or the second side of a blank cassette, on the first side of which I asked him to record some album or other. A Sisters of Mercy song would always appear. Finally, I bit and asked him to record me one of their albums and this is how I first came to
“Vision thing”.

This was the Sisters’ third and final proper studio album that they ever released, even though the group has continued to ‘exist’ in some form or other ever since Andrew Eldritch put them together back in 1980. We saw a couple of singles released in the first few years after the 90s began but even those dried up. Eldritch has continued to write, though, and these songs have appeared on set lists as the group continues to tour, right up to today, but nothing has been recorded and released officially to the public. There have been rumblings over the years of possible releases and Eldritch himself had posited half-jokingly that it might take a Donald Trump presidential win for them to get motivated but that was for the first time around and of course, Trump won twice and still no new music.

Interestingly, I’ve heard that “Vision thing” was inspired by the Sisters’ frontman’s thoughts surrounding George Bush (Sr), another polarizing republican American president, and his policies, which also had a worldwide impact. The album is eight epic songs*, all requisitely dark and foreboding, and that in spite of Eldritch, only furthered the group’s place in the pantheon of goth. It followed the tradition of the previous two albums, of being recorded by a completely different set of musicians that had worked on the previous. Joining Eldritch and his trusty drum machine, Doktor Avalanche, for “Vision thing” was Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s Tony James on bass, a young Andreas Bruhn on guitar, and Scottish vocalist Maggie Reilly provided backing vocals to many of the tracks.

Apparently, it was a difficult album to make, many different versions of each of these tracks were recorded, and the personnel themselves have publicly wondered how much of their contributions made the final cuts. What we know for sure is that the final versions settled upon were actually ones that came out of the early sessions, being rawer and more immediate.

“Vision thing” did reasonably well on the charts and have hit sales certifications in both Germany and the group’s native UK. It is my favourite complete album of their three but this is likely because it is the one with which I am the most familiar.

I have spent lots of quality time and have loved all eight tracks on “Vision thing” so it was hard to pick the requisite three for you but I have endeavoured. I recommend you wait until dark, light a solitary candle, and pour some red wine before pressing play.

“Vision thing“: The opening track title (which was also the namesake for the album) was taken from a phrase George Bush (the sr.) used during his 1988 presidential campaign. And this isn’t the only reference to things said by the former American president or thoughts on his policies. “Vision thing” is the song that most overtly takes to task the subject that many have said inspired the record. “It’s a small world and it smells bad. I’d buy another if I had back what I paid, for another motherf*cker in a motorcade.” Andrew Eldritch pulls no punches. It’s raw and aggressive and angry. The guitars chug along and Doktor Avalanche does its thing, sure, but the frontman is what makes this song. His vocals snarl and roar, takes layered upon each other, as if there were an army of him, ready to take on the world and take down everything that angers him about it. It’s a great song to bash about and stomp your feet too. A real (goth) punk song.

“Ribbons”: I’m pretty sure this wasn’t the first song I’d ever heard by The Sisters but it was definitely the song that sold me and got me into them. I’ve told the story before but it begs repetition. I distinctly remember it being on in my friend Tim’s car stereo when he was driving a bunch of us home after a high school theatre event. I was in the back seat and Tim took one of our school’s infamously high speed bumps too quickly and much of the contents of his open coke can was transferred to yours truly just as Eldritch was shrieking “Incoming!” The carload of us found the coincidence way too funny so we repeated the song a few times while he dropped the lot of us at our homes and in those repetitions, I gained an appreciation for the uncompromising chainsaw guitars, the equally foreboding drum machine, and Eldritch’s evocative lyrical imagery and singular delivery. “Her lovers queued up in the hallway, I heard them scratching at the door, I tried to tell her about Marx and Engels, God and Angels, I don’t really know what for.” Is it about a one night stand, sex with a bewitching prostitute, or is it an anti-war, anti-nukes song? Could be be all three and probably is. “Incoming!”

“More”: I fully admit that I am going to plagiarize myself a bit here since I’ve already written about this last song on these pages a few times already. It was the first single to be released off the album and features heavy handed piano, synth washes, muscular, machine gun guitars, and the backing vocals of Scottish singer Maggie Reilly. The version on the album is epic long at just over eight minutes, making full use of its Jim Steinman production. It is big and menacing, riffing on the love as a drug theme, dangerous and painful and wouldn’t be traded for all the world. “All I want, all I need, all the time is more of your sweet love. Too much just ain’t enough. I never needed a fix like this before.” It is equally perfect for blasting while driving down dark country roads or dancing to in packed and sweaty clubs while the strobes make you question your reality. I have memories of doing both, many times over the years.

*It was of course, coproduced by Jim Steinman, famous for his work with Bonnie Tyler and Meatloaf on “Bat out of hell”.

We’ll be back in a handful of days with album #3. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:

You can also check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

Tags Alternative, Alternative Rock, Andrew Eldritch, Best albums, Best of 1990, Goth, Gothic rock, Post-Punk, Retro, The Sisters Of Mercy

Albums

Best albums of 1990: #5 Spirit of the West “Save this house”

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date June 13, 2025
5 Comments on Best albums of 1990: #5 Spirit of the West “Save this house”

Spirit of the West are one of my favourite ever bands.

And I know what you’re thinking: This guy’s probably got thousands of favourite bands. Which is probably true. However, SOTW have been with me for a very long time, almost 35 years. A Canadian band with a unique sound that I got into at a time when most Canadian bands were trying to sound American. For a while, they were the band I had seen the most times in concert. In fact, my wife and I officially ‘got together’ after seeing the band at our university pub. I could go on and on but I’ve already tread this ground on these pages a number of times, most notably when I counted down my top five favourite tunes by the group back in 2017.

Having said all this, “Save this house” isn’t my favourite Spirit of the West album. Yes, it’s got some of their classic tracks (see below) and it’s got a great and unique folk rock sound but they were still finding their true footing here, being one album removed from being a fully formed band. Multi-instrumentalist and backing vocalist Linda McRae had just joined the trio of Hugh McMillan, Geoffrey Kelly, and John Mann and their drummer Vince Ditrich had yet to join. The songwriting is very strong here for the most part but as a whole, the album is likely a couple tracks too long.

Still, as you can see, I’ve placed the group’s fourth album and first on major label, Warner Music Canada, in my top five for the year so you know I believe the album is worth your time. The songs are a bit of their time and place but can also be considered out of time. The band sings from a perspective with which I am very familiar and their instrumental prowess is understated but markedly better than some of their peers at the time, effortlessly sliding Celtic folk into an alt rock context. It’s an album, much like the rest of their catalogue, that deserves to be placed amongst the pantheon of great CanCon records but unfortunately, feels to me, largely forgotten.

So indulge me, if you will, and have a listen to “Save this house” in its entirety but if you are lacking the time, check out these three picks.

“Puttin’ up with the Joneses“: “Lock ’em up, and throw away the key, boys / The Joneses are not like you or me / Lock ’em up tight, ’cause if they had the chance they might / Show us that we’re wrong and that’s the one thing we can’t be.” My father got me a summer job working in the recycling plant division of the steel factory he worked at in the summer of 1995. For the first couple of weeks that I worked there, they didn’t know what to do with me and the other summer student that they had hired, so they had us scouring the barren fields on the property picking up scraps of metal that had floated down out of the air while they ran flattened cars through the ‘shredder’. I’ll always think of this song when I remember that summer because I sang the words to it to myself the whole time I was picking up these scraps. A song with a peppy rhythm put together with a non-stop acoustic strum, a popping bongo beat, and call and response vocals, words invoking everything I was feeling about the world in my youth. Questions of normalcy and what it all means, the relevance of life events, toeing the line or rebelling against it. A punk song that sounds more folk than The Pogues and that puts a smile on your face everytime.

“Save this house”: “The welcome mat’s worn out, the roof will never mend, the furniture’s on fire, this house is a disgrace. Someone change the locks before we trash this place.” The title track on the album is a three minute wonder that is very much relevant contextually to its era but is also quite prescient of the world events of the last few years. Starts off funky and haunting but at each chorus the guitars lose their effects and run at a straight ahead strum, racing at a pace that the bongos have a hard time keeping up with. The gang vocals add to the immediacy and invoke images of random and spontaneous jams at protest afterparties, a moment where everyone joins in, not just because they all know the words but more because there is a shared belief and conviction behind them. John Mann and company are bemoaning the state of the world, the politics and the environment, wondering aloud and not so conspicuously as to how we all got to this point and how we all let it happen. I’m still wondering the same.

“Home for a rest”: If, like me, you attended university in Canada in the 1990s (or in the years immediately following), you likely know this song or have drank and danced to it at some point whether you knew it or not. If you were not part of this cohort, you really don’t know what you’re missing. “By the light of the moon, she’d drift through the streets / A rare old perfume, so seductive and sweet / She’d tease us and flirt, as the pubs all closed down / Then walk us on home and deny us a round.” With universal, drinking song lyrics like this, “Home for a rest” has been considered by many an alternate Canadian national anthem, though it was never technically released as a single. I certainly love it and probably know the words just as well as I do “Oh Canada!”. I ranked it number two when I counted down my top five favourite by the band and placed it at number four in my Best tunes of 1990 list. I’ve danced to the wild music and have breathlessly sang along to all of these words so many times, in my room, at their shows, and on packed dance floors. And as I’ve written on these pages before, I was even coaxed up to a microphone by friends on a long ago green-beer-soaked Saint Patricks day at my old college pub, The Open End, to provide the slurring vocals when the entertainment for the evening couldn’t do it. This one has left an indelible mark on my life.