My Favorite Albums Of 1995
Despite the optimism in last month’s My Favorite Albums Of 2005 post, I did not get it together to write a favorite albums of 2025 post. But I did manage this look back at my personal platters of choice from thirty years ago!
The caveats: Rocket From The Crypt’s Hot Charity is technically my second favorite album of 1995, but only 5,000 or so vinyl copies were released worldwide, bandleader John Reis shaking so many jams off his pant-leg at the time that he didn’t mind treating this Vegas-punk gold as a barely heard warm-up for their Interscope debut, just to prove he could. This means most fans outside major metropoli only heard about it until the CD release in 2002, where it was packaged with the 1999 vinyl-only EP Cut Carefully And Play Loud. I didn’t get to say “holy shit, how did they not put this out wide?” myself until Napster, so I’ve decided to acknowledge Hot Charity/Cut Carefully & Play Loud as the best compilation of 2002 someday, and disqualify it from the 1995 batch.
Did you hear this in 1995? Well, shucks, alright then...
About a third of these albums have been in my possession since the era of release, tapes replaced by CD-Rs replaced by cheap used CDs. But only two discs are really, really new to me, and I bet you can’t guess which! Partly, because it’s all alternaindie and a little rap from the Wu-intelligentsia. A playlist post will soon acknowledge a broader spectrum of musical appreciation, but the heart wants what it wants as far as full-lengths go. And this heart was in a teenager boggling at the majesty of Matador Records in 1995.
1. Yo-La Tengo, Electr-O-Pura
I’ve said plenty about this already:
Anthony Cougar Miccio
The 6ths, "You Can't Break A Broken Heart"
2. The 6ths, Wasps’ Nests
A Stephin Merritt tribute album, made of new songs recorded by him, sung by indie rock stars either he or his manager were cool with (mostly his manager). Dean Wareham! Lou Barlow! Mary Timony! Mac from Superchunk! Georgia from Yo La Tengo! Chris Knox! Anna Domino! Stephin Merritt himself (on the second track, how demurring)! This was actually the first Merritt-associated album I ever heard, either because I spotted it used or because the guests made it more promising to my SPIN-centric ass than a Magnetic Fields album. Consider that fact a caveat, because I actually enjoy these 15 Indie-Pop Love Songs more than 69 Love Songs today. The cavalcade of underground faves evokes my moony adolescence as much as the droll, pouty melodrama of the lyrics and the twinkling, clattering loops around them. “I was young, you were dumb/ now you’re older, and I’m wiser/ we design synthesizers.”
Pavement, "Father To A Sister Of A Thought"
3. Pavement, Wowee Zowee
I’m overdue to give Stockton’s finest an album guide, so I won’t lay out my entire, mildly hot, Pavement Take here. But Wowee Zowee, the dead center of their ‘90s LP output, is their all-encompassing epic, a 1.5LP that captures their increasing lyricism in a context of devil-may-care eccentricity. It’s The White Album, if John & Paul were one guy, and Ringo was three guys (Scott Kannenberg is George, so proud to have written “Kennel District,” only to see Stephen Malkmus mistreat it for years). Faves include a steel guitar showcase, the gorgeous “Grounded” (bracketed by minute-long Ween-like whimsy), the dramatic verse-CHORUS-verse they named “AT&T” for some reason (a Jacob Javits shout-out in the bridge), and “Best Friends Arm,” which Ween might have found too pointless. The only song I really don’t like is the tepid lope of “Grave Architecture,” which is the album’s third biggest song on the app that made a later B-side go gold. Figures!
GZA, "Shadowboxin'"
4. GZA, Liquid Swords
The initial three years of Wu-releases are cumulatively staggering. After the Clan’s debut document, came a star vehicle, a gonzo horror movie, a screwball comedy, a gangster film, and a lock for Best Original Screenplay too weird for Best Picture. Nestled among these is Liquid Swords, which you could call their kung-fu movie, but really it just slams. Grimy, nagging hooks and fuzzed-out beats from the RZA, with GZA - buoyed but not dependent on his Clan compatriots - so confident in his post-Rakim lyrical acuity and bravado that they can start shouting about chess or let an extended clip of Shogun Assassin play without losing the thread. That thread is being the fucking coolest. In some ways, Swords is the most distilled example of the Wu-aesthetic, GZA’s centrality giving it a focus impossible on a posse album. Biden was right.
Morrissey, "The Boy Racer"
5. Morrissey, Southpaw Grammar
Morrissey did a remarkably good job of putting together an arena-ready, glam-rockabilly combo after leaving The Smiths, but his earlier solo albums are stained by ugly mockery of immigrants and coy, decreasingly ironic professions of nationalism. That, or too many ballads. So it was a real surprise when Southpaw Grammar opened with a mostly instrumental ten-minute epic complete with a symphonic sample. A brief acknowledgment of the agony of parasocial culture and a rip-roaring announcement of murderous jealousy follow, and then a drum solo. A two-minute drum solo. On a Morrissey album.
I understand if anyone who escaped adolescence without loving him doesn’t bother exploring the discography now, but Southpaw Grammar is an almost inexplicable triumph. The album races through Morrissey’s thesis (“humans are pathetic, hateful creatures but at least Morrissey fans can find tragic beauty in that/him”) with a maximum of rock flash and a minimum of dispiriting details. The singer sadly died soon after, though Satan rejected his soul, and his ghost was cursed to walk the earth forever dissatisfied, curdling and incapable of growth. So I ignore the ghoul.
Luna, "Bonnie & Clyde"
6. Luna, Penthouse
If “Television and The Go-Betweens” means less to you than “Hootie & The Blowfish,” then know Luna fans think you’re part of the problem. Just as TV’s drummer looked at labelmates the Cars in 1978 and knew his band wasn’t going to be the one going platinum, it was becoming obvious in 1995 that the kids weren’t hungry for a Galaxie 500/Chills/Feelies supergroup that sounded even more genteel than Television. But major record companies weren’t done throwing money at college rock favorites - hey, the Butthole Surfers went top 40 in ’96! - and Luna got to take their time on Penthouse, their third and best album. Dean Wareham paints portraits of modestly decadent urbanity with sighs and meows, while he, Sean Eden and special guest (whaddya know) Tom Verlaine take leisurely solos whenever they feel like it. Not that its somnambulant, what with a Feelie drumming. The closing Serge Gainsbourg cover features Laetitia Sadier of labelmlates Stereolab, and appeared in a 2007 Cadillac ad. I guess they were setting the stage for Phoenix’s breakthrough.
7. Green Day, Insomniac
I like the singles off Dookie, but I was too hung up on exploring indie to learn to love the album tracks. Instead, it’s the rougher, faster follow-up that eventually earned click-pick status when I’m in the mood for the original arena-punks. More on this one here:
Anthony Cougar Miccio
Ol' Dirty Bastard, "Shimmy Shimmy Ya"
8. Ol' Dirty Bastard, Return Of The 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version
The “screwball comedy” I referred to in the GZA post, obvious to anyone that’s ever heard Ol’ Dirty Bastard before. I don’t mean to dismiss the late rapper’s skills as mere slapstick, just as I wouldn’t say John Belushi couldn’t have played Hamlet. But it’s Animal House I love Belushi for, and RZA et al knew what they were doing by letting ODB mime orgasm after shouting “Spinners!” or letting him follow “easy on my balls, they're fragile as eggs” with “part two, coming up!” “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” and “Brooklyn Zoo” are party-starters that make Busta Rhymes look mannered, RZA’s beats even getting out of the way for the grody holler of “The Stomp.” “Raw Hide” captures the indignity of trying to follow him, Method Man and Raekwon unable to pull focus after the star slips “I came out my mama pussy” into his opening verse, apropos of nothing. If it’s too crass for you, it’s too crass for you. But in a world where Tommy Boy gets called a classic…
9. Echobelly, On
The best Brit-pop album of the year! Maybe ever! But I already shared that spicy take here:
Anthony Cougar Miccio
Mudhoney, "Into Yer Shtik"
10. Mudhoney, My Brother The Cow
Mudhoney’s phenomenal double-disc comp March To Fuzz renders most of their ‘90s LPs negligible, even though only the first disc pulls from them. But, already sick of the grunge bandwagon by the Singles soundtrack’s “Overblown,” My Brother The Cow found these sardonic Seattlites with a lot more than usual on their mind. “Generation Spokesmodel” and “Into Yer Shtik” are even more merciless than the aforementioned snark, Kurt Cobain’s death only darkening their contempt. “F.D.K. (Fearless Doctor Killers)” makes clear they’re not myopic about scene woes, while less topical expressions of frustration like “Execution Style” and “Dissolve” are among their meatiest musical efforts, producer Jack Endino and the band probably taking an extra day or three on the mix or something. Capping it off is “1995,” which you know damn well is a Stooges tribute, complete with sax! Ironically, Mark Arm’s repeated grimace of “what the fuck are you looking at?” might have been too antisocial even for Iggy.
And now, the Xgau-esque honorable mentions, in order of descending enthusiasm!
Slowdive, "Rutti"
Slowdive, Pygmalion
These future shoegaze icons were dropped by Creation for this blatant - sometimes actionable - Talk Talk tribute, before changing their name and making like Mazzy Star for 4AD. Can you blame critics at the time for second-guessing their credibility? Or sound-centric kids for not caring today? (“Rutti,” “Trellisaze,” “Blue Skied An’ Clear”)
Scott Walker, Tilt
An enigmatic wail so anguished & goth the ‘60s crooner turned reclusive artiste was forced by law to sign to 4AD afterwards (“Farmer In The City (Remembering Pasolini),” “Manhattan,” “Tilt”)
Guided By Voices, Alien Lanes
Bam, bam, bam! One art-garage smash recorded in a tin can and clocking in under 2 minutes after another! (“Game Of Pricks,” “My Son Cool,” “Little Whirl”)
Elastica, Elastica
The brassiest Britpop got and the foxiest Wire homage ever (“Connection,” “Stutter,” “Hold Me Now”)
Teenage Fanclub, Grand Prix
Wry, Scottish Alt-Byrds give up on grunge and wind up Britpop without changing much at all (“Verisimillitude,” “Neil Jung,” “Sparky’s Dream”)
Air Miami, "I Hate Milk"
Air Miami, Me. Me. Me.
2/3rds of ‘90s Unrest take one last swing at stardom, or at least a jangle-pop novelty hit (“I Hate Milk,” “Dolphin Expressway,” “Afternoon Train”)
Cornershop, Woman’s Gotta Have It
A first-gen Sikh Brit’s ragafied psychedelic indie is almost guaranteed to be smarter than its peers, but not this smart-ass (“6am Juliander Shere,” “Wog,” “Call All Destroyer”)
The Pharcyde, Labcabincalifornia
Mellifluous Cali rappers on the way out meet panoramic Detroit producer J-Dilla on the way up - all thanks to Q-Tip, of course (“Drop,” “Runnin,” “The E.N.D.’”)
Urge Overkill, Exit The Dragon
A drug-weary, disillusioned epic from the most “are you being sarcastic, dude?” “I don’t even know anymore” of ‘90s bands (“The Mistake,” “Need Some Air,” “The Break”)
Anthony Cougar Miccio
Everclear, Sparkle & Fade
An angry cowpunk with a kid and a past pulls off the Scarecrow of alternapop (“My Sexual Life,” “You Make Me Feel Like A Whore,” “Santa Monica")
Here’s my favorite compilation of 1995!
Superchunk, "Ribbon"
Superchunk, Incidental Music
Less breath-taking than their first rarities comp, but further evidence these indie-punk romantics cared more about killer b-sides than killer album tracks (“100,000 Fireflies,” “Foolish,” “Baxter”)
And here’s ten more 1995 albums, in descending order of enthusiasm!
Rocket From The Crypt, "Born In '69"
Rocket From The Crypt, Scream, Dracula, Scream!
Not as tight as Hot Charity, but, in 1995, it was a million times easier to find (“Born In ’69,” “Ball Lightning”)
Raekwon, Only Built 4 Cuban Linx
The most straightforward gangsta of the Wu’s imperial era, for better or worse (“Guillotine (Swordz),” “Ice Cream”)
Sonic Youth, Washing Machine
Already giving up on alternapop for guitar epics & lullabies (“Unwind,” “The Diamond Sea”)
Anthony Cougar Miccio
Chemical Brothers, Exit Planet Dust
“It’s a trip, it’s got a funky beat, and I can bug out to it!” is almost all I can say about most ‘90s UK techno I like (“Three Little Birdies Down Beats,” “In Dust We Trust”)
Rancid, ...And Out Come The Wolves
Cali-punks who unabashedly loved The Clash, 2-Tone…and friendship (“Time Bomb,” “Journey To The End Of The East Bay”)
Garbage, "Only Happy When It Rains"
Garbage, Garbage
Mersh midwestern shoegaze project that struck FM gold with an MTV-sourced Scottish seductress (“Vow,” “Only Happy When It Rains”)
Low, Long Division
A strong sophomore shot from the one-time Gothie 500, with more Mimi than on the debut (“Below & Above,” Swingin’”)
Anthony Cougar Miccio
Radiohead, The Bends
For one album, they were the straight Suede (“My Iron Lung,” “Bones”)
Alex Chilton, A Man Called Destruction
Refusing to give up his sloppy, retro ass-bandit shtick despite alt credibility, he does turn up the drums (“What’s Your Sign Girl,” “Sick And Tired”)
Matthew Sweet, 100% Fun
Subtly sour stomp-box bubblegum less sodden than Sweet’s previous album, less soaring than the one before that (“Sick Of Myself,” “We’re The Same")
Finally, four more compilations released in 1995…again, in order of descending enthusiasm!
Dr. John, "Iko Iko"
Dr. John, The Very Best Of Dr. John
I don’t think he was more magical than the average legendary New Orleans pianist, but he was blessed with better studio budgets (“Right Place, Wrong Time,” “Mos’Scocious”)
Stereolab, Refried Ectoplasm
If you never understood why a band that could ape “Sister Ray” would stop, this comp is almost as crucial as Transient Random Noise Bursts With Announcements ("Harmonium,” “French Disko”)
Sugar, Besides
Bob knows this is better than the second album, that’s why this exists, shut up (“Armenia City In The Sky,” “Where Diamonds Are Halos”)
Don Henley, Actual Miles: Henley’s Greatest Hits
I went real deep on this one already:
Anthony Cougar Miccio
If you want to know where Maxinquaye or Everything Is Wrong is, ask your toilet. If you have any other comments and questions, feel free to say hi at anthonyisright at gmail dot com.
