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Albums

Best albums of 1990: Albums #10 through #6

A couple of posts ago, I initiated a new mini-series focusing on my favourite albums of 1990. I shared some words on the concept, the fact that 1990 was the year with which I started out this blog, focusing then, on its best tunes, and finally, providing a handful of album honourable mentions. So I’ll not blather on too much today for preamble. If you’re interested where I was musically and in life in general that year, have a looky-loo here. Otherwise, I’ll dig right into albums 10 through 6 of my list of top albums for 1990*.

Enjoy!


#10 The Northern Pikes “Snow in June”

The Pikes’ third and best-selling record feels inextricably tied to my DNA sometimes. It’s not one I listen to often anymore but whenever I do, it instantly transports me back to my teenaged bedroom, where listened to this cassette tape on repeat, constantly flipping sides, while playing hours upon hours of ‘Pool of radiance’ on my C64. It’s way more than just the ubiquitous CanCon classic, “She ain’t pretty“. There’s thirteen solid rock tracks that are tempered by folk leanings and varied in sound according to which of the three vocalists wrote and led the singing on each. Perhaps the nostalgia is strong here but I stand by my love for this album. It’s unfortunate that the Saskatchewan-based quartet couldn’t keep the momentum up for their next album.


#9 Jane’s Addiction “Ritual de lo habitual”

Jane’s Addiction’s second proper studio album was handed to me on cassette tape by a friend and fellow new initiate to the alternative music scene, calling it industrial and comparing the group to Nine Inch Nails and Ministry, both bands I was just getting into. Of course, Jane’s weren’t really industrial but they had that similar rage and wild sound and perhaps even more so in a sense. There’s so many great tracks on ‘Ritual’ and I’ve always thought that what set them so apart was that the songs are all slightly unhinged, as if the whole ship could all fall apart at any moment. This orchestrated chaos was what made the American quartet led by Perry Farrell so great but it was also their undoing**. They broke up at the end of the tour for the album, the finale of which also saw the group headlining the very first Lollapalooza festival.


#8 Sinéad O’Connor “I do not want what I haven’t got”

I remember buying this album on cassette tape as part of Columbia House’s 9 albums for a penny, way back in the day, and for the longest time, only listening to “Nothing compares 2 u” because that was the song I knew from my weekly viewing of the Chum FM 30. Once I moved past that one tune, though, I grew to appreciate Sinéad’s other material. I later migrated away from listening to her, not because of her infamous photo burning appearance on SNL or her outspokenness on many topics, but because my tastes took me in a different direction. However, I’ve since returned to this album many times over the last couple of decades. Sinéad was a great songwriter. Not just a lyricist but also in the way she created a sound, sometimes infusing Celtic folk sounds with funky drum beats and sometimes leaving it all bare, singing a capella and including her inhalations of breathe as another tool in her tool belt. Such a legendary voice and polarizing persona.


#7 The La’s “The La’s”

You’ve heard about one hit wonders, right? Well, how about one album wonders? The La’s were a five-piece Liverpool-based rock act led by Lee Mavers that were active from 1983 to 1992. They released a handful of singles throughout that time, including one of my favourite one hit wonders, “There she goes”, but only ever managed the one studio album before disbanding***. But what a great album it was. The self-titled debut is filled with short and jangly rock gems that dig their way into your head and root themselves in there for good measure, much like another act from that same England town. It’s another one of those great rock ‘what if’ stories. Who knows what a second record would have meant to the band and perhaps rock music as a whole.


#6 Concrete Blonde “Bloodletting”

Concrete Blonde’s third album was oh-so-close to breaking into my top five for 1990. Previously, the sound of the Hollywood-based, indie rock trio led by Johnette Napolitano was mostly pedestrian rock and yet, their following was meagre, being picked up mostly by the college radio kids. With “Bloodletting”, they ventured into gothic rock territory and surprisingly, found commercial success for the first time. I remember listening to this album around my wife at one point early on in our relationship and she was surprised that I was listening to a band that she knew. But this album is so much more than “Joey“. Every track is dark and haunting and full of soul and drenched with meaning for me. I could listen to this album all night long.


*With each album in this post, I’ve tried to choose a representative track that was not featured on my Best tunes list for 1990, partly to show the breadth of each and partly to avoid being repetitive.

**I’ve often thought that it could have been Jane’s and not Nirvana that broke alternative to the mainstream, had they managed to survive the touring cycle for this album.

***There were a number of attempts at reforming over the years but none have really stuck up to now.

Stay tuned for album #5 on this list. In the meantime, you can check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

Categories
Tunes

Best tunes of 2020: #11 The Reds, Pinks and Purples “Forgotten names”

<< #12    |    #10 >>

Memory is a funny thing. And it seems to have gotten an even more bizarre sense of humour over the past half decade or so.

I used to have a great memory, being able to recall the names of every actor and every director of all my favourite films, having the names of all the great musicians and bands I love at my fingertips at the odd chance that someone might ask for my opinion or any music recommendations. It hasn’t been quite as reliable of late, some of that being related to certain medical issues that I’ve been recovering from, but some of it might just be my age, and even just the age we’ve been living in, with all the collective insanity of the last five years. All in all, my relationship with and my thoughts about memory have definitely changed and so when I think about it, see references to it in films and hear raps on the theme in music lyrics, I take note and ponder.

And even though it may not be the case, it feels like Glenn Donaldson, frontman and driving force behind The Reds, Pinks & Purples, also seems to have a complicated relationship with memories and nostalgia. His songs (and there are a lot of them of late) mostly sound like they are ruminations on some memory or other, whether explicitly or implicitly, directly through narrative or hinted at through the dreamlike quality of his music. Whenever I put on his records, I know that my mood is going to be quite nostalgic by the end, whether I started out that way or not.

I got into The Reds, Pinks & Purples with their third release, 2021’s “Uncommon weather“, and immediately went digging for more of their tunes. There was already plenty to find and there’s been no lack of new output every year, given that Donaldson has been quite prolific with this project, releasing over 8 albums and just as many (if not more) EPs since his first release in 2019. And the tunes have been consistently great, and consistent in their dream pop sound that hearkens back to heyday of late 80s John Hughes soundtrack material.

“I always said you were the thief
you’ll be a star
with a red guitar
you took from better bands we used to see”

Track two on “You might be happy someday”, the 2020 mini-album by The Reds, Pinks & Purples, is a spritely three and half minute wistful guitar jangle wonder called “Forgotten names”. It’s held together by a jaunty but cheerful drum beat, seemingly content to just hang out, cool for cats, simply drifting in all the reverb, but it’s there to tempt your toes to tap. Donaldson’s voice is typically plaintive, like a memory of a dream faintly remembered from a lemon-light sunny Sunday afternoon nap, the kind where you dip in and out of consciousness, you’ll never know which was which later on. It feels like a song about those people that have made a mark on us, like it or not, something they said or did coming back to haunt us at random moments, even though they may have only passed through our lives for a short time and though their names are long lost to us.

For the rest of the Best tunes of 2020 list, click here.

Categories
Albums

Best albums of 1990: Honourable mentions

It’s been nearly two months since I wrapped up my last mini series. So it’s about time to do another, right?

Right.

It actually occurred to me while drafting those comeback posts back in February and looking back over all the best albums series I’ve done over the years, that I hadn’t done a historical piece in a while. 1990 was the year that I opened up this blog with, starting a series on my top 30 tunes for that year so that seemed a good place to pick up, given I’m on a roll with this return to blogging. I’m actually reusing the above pic from the page that sums up that entire list, both for nostalgia’s sake and for taking the path of least resistance.

I won’t rehash all the words that I already spilled on said page but suffice to say, 1990 was an important year for music for me. It was just around that time that I was getting into alternative music and because it was pre-Internet, some of the albums on this list were discovered, and appreciation gained for them, in the handful of years following their initial release.

With this post, I am sharing a smattering of albums (in alphabetical order) that are great and mean a lot to me but landed just outside of my top ten favourites. I plan to post the rest of this series every week or so, intermingling them with our regularly scheduled programming. The next one in the series will feature albums ten through six and the posts that follow will each proclaim the greatness of my top five albums for the year. The series may take a month or two when all is said and done, but bear with me. It should be fun.


Cocteau Twins “Heaven or Las Vegas”: Not only my gateway* to the band but likely also for many others, given that the 6th full-length release by the legendary dream pop outfit was their most commercially successful – more intelligible lyrics from Elizabeth Fraser than usual and a very slight deeper leaning into pop from their typical experimentation were the likely culprits.
Check out: Cherry-coloured funk

Happy Mondays “Pills ‘n’ thrills and bellyaches”:  Eventually, I got over my prejudice against the mythical Madchester group for the part they played in bankrupting Factory Records** and moved past the couple of tracks with which I was already familiar, care of a mixed tape a friend made for me, and I fell hard for the ‘Mondays’ best selling record – yep, it’s druggy, danceable, and chaotic fun.
Check out: Step on

Inspiral Carpets “Life”:  The debut album by the Manchester quintet was chock full of dance floor ready boppers made distinctive by the singspeak vocals of Tom Hingley and the swirling organs of Clint Boon and it might even have cracked my top 10 had the wonderful standalone single, “Commercial rain”, actually been on this one.
Check out: This is how it feels

James “Gold mother”: Manchester stalwarts James first came to my attention with this, their third album, albeit a few years late***, but even still, I didn’t fully come to appreciate it until much later, after years of listening to later albums where the large group’s big sound became more fully developed. Nevertheless, a great introduction.
Check out: Top of the world

The Lightning Seeds “Cloudcuckooland”: Ian Broudie’s debut album as The Lightning Seeds was britpop before britpop was even a thing – and we know how much I love britpop****… so many great tracks that wouldn’t have sounded out of place at any point during the british alternative boom.
Check out: Pure


*This, after many years of trying and failing to find some common ground with the band and at least, a couple dozen spins of this particular album.

**It took a long time, though, because Northside, one of my favourite Manchester bands at the time, got caught up in said bankruptcy and never managed to release their sophomore album.

***After it was reissued for the US audience as the eponymously named album with the instantly recognizable flower on the cover and included a new version of the classic “Sit down“. A bunch of us were given copies of this CD at a high school CFNY video dance party and many never listened to it. Much like the Inspirals album here, “Gold mother” might’ve cracked the top ten if “Sit down” were on the original release.

****And as I’ve written about before on these pages, I came to The Lightning Seeds late – they somehow escaped my adoration for many years!

I’ll be back very soon with albums #10 through #6 for my Best albums of 1990 list. In the meantime, you can check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.