10. Tortoise - Millions Now Living Will Never Die (Thrill Jockey Records, 1996)

One of the best ways to describe Tortoise's project is the name of one of founding bassist Bundy K. Brown's numerous side concerns: Directions In Music. It appropriately suggests an ongoing journey rather than a set objective. Nowhere did Tortoise sound more unhurried, unforced, or exploratory than on second album Millions Now Living Will Never Die, which drew from numerous reference points in soundtracks, modern classical, dub, rock, and jazz, and took these along with its players' varied musical backgrounds in wondrous directions. "Djed" was at once holistic and wildly original, as a mess of genius sound-pictures all faded and fluttered into each other linked by pulsating bass and juddering tape tricks. The more linear stuff on the album's second half was just as impressive, particularly the snappy "Taut And Tame" and the languorous spaghetti-jazz workout "Along The Banks Of Rivers."       - Western Homes

9. Jawbox - For Your Own Special Sweetheart (Atlantic Records, 1994)

Jawbox's deconstruction of D.C. hardcore would provide numerous emo and hardcore bands with another reason to plagiarize. The opening of "FF=66" features an excerpt of William Carlos Williams' "The Seafarer" over growling feedback that forebodes the coming of a musical onslaught of epic proportions, and this apocalypse washes away all nay-sayers. Jawbox pulls no punches, responding to claims that they sold out by being the first Dischord band to jump ship to the majors with a mantra of "Just want a way not to be what gets sold to me" over music more ferocious and alive than anything from their Dischord days. "Savory" and its syncopated elegance remain one of the timeless moments of fulfilled promise.       - Sebastian Stirling

8. Hum - You'd Prefer an Astronaut (RCA Records, 1995)

Hum's placement at number eight should come as no surprise to the Midwestern dreamers that elevated what an outsider might cast off as "that album with 'Stars' on it" to a ritual of daily existence. Simple logic would presume that sooner or later, this album's magic would deteriorate for someone who has listened to it more than any other ten albums combined, but I have never found myself to be less than consumed with You'd Prefer an Astronaut. I've lived and breathed this album since I bought it, and it will always be a large part of my life.       - Sebastian Stirling

7. Sunny Day Real Estate - Diary (Sub Pop Records, 1994)

Sunny Day Real Estate's means of becoming the poster band for a whole new youth movement came with the simple but brilliant realization that for at time as conflicted as ours, rock anthems simply will not do. Instead S.D.R.E. gave us desperate confusion, the sound of musicians burned out on the idealism of punk but too angry to go mainstream. They instilled the churning guitars of "Seven" and "Round" with such conviction that we had no choice but to listen. Jeremy Enigk's yelped lyrics pulled us further in with their delicate abstractions; it seemed like were glimpsing very tiny fragments of something deeply personal, like rifling through the titular Diary. Never has a rock antihero's declaration that "I feel wrong" made so many feel so right.       - Western Homes

6. Nirvana - Nevermind (DGC, 1991)

I remember when a friend finally bought me this for my birthday freshman year of high school, someone in my class asked how I couldn't have it already, like it was a needed piece of being a teenager. While I scoffed something about only recently getting a c.d. player at the time, in retrospect Nevermind will always be traced to my age group, whether we listen to it as much as other albums or not. While this is a stellar rock album, I don't think that it's amazing enough to be considered the best album of the decade, even if it is the most influential. Taken as what it is, I think this album is where it deserves to be.       - Sebastian Stirling

5. My Bloody Valentine - Loveless (Sire Records, 1991)

The biggest joke of the late nineties for indie rock nerds like myself is what will come first, a new My Bloody Valentine album or the end of the world. My money is on the latter, as no matter how dedicated Kevin Shields is, sooner or later he's going to come to the stark realization that no one, including himself, can make another album like Loveless. No matter how many glide-guitar overdubs you can cram into a four-minute symphony of glistening white noise, it's never going to match the cacophony of angels singing on this album. For sheer sound, nothing on this list comes close to this album.       - Sebastian Stirling

4. Pavement - Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (Matador Records, 1994)

Only in a land where "bands start up each and every day," yet an exhausted arena rocker is compelled to bid "good night to the rock and roll era," can a band as exquisitely self-contradictory as Pavement reign supreme. Their most unabashedly nostalgic record, Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain nods at Gram Parsons and Dave Brubeck while flipping the bird to Billy Corgan and those "foxy" lads in Stone Temple Pilots. The record was ultimately so arch, so hip, and so self-assured that it nearly broke into the mainstream, forcing a startled Pavement to act quickly to cover their tracks with the brilliantly painful Wowee Zowee. They should have known better than to litter the record with hooks as bodacious as "Cut Your Hair"'s doo-wop chorus and "Silent Kid"'s cribbed love-rock guitar lead.       - Western Homes

3. Pavement - Slanted & Enchanted (Matador Records, 1992)

When I listened to the rather mediocre Terror Twilight's attempts at spontaneity, I'm reminded of the fact that you can't plan a concept like that out. It just has to happen. On Slanted & Enchanted, it happened. The lo-fi recording of this album has something to do with it, allowing the listener to believe these songs were merely tossed onto tape by the lackadaisical hands of Stephen Malkmas, Spiral Stairs, and the more drunk than lackadaisical hands of Gary Young. These are not diamonds in the rough; these are just jewels that glisten differently than you're used to. The opaque poetry of Malkmus has caused indie rockers to scratch their heads for years, but regardless, songs like "In the Mouth a Desert," "Here," and "Perfume-V" could avoid explication for mere emotional appreciation.       - Sebastian Stirling

2. Radiohead - OK Computer (Capitol Records, 1997)

After a grunge-by-numbers debut record (Pablo Honey) that impressed about nobody, and a follow-up (The Bends) which infuriated just as often as it dazzled, Radiohead finally got their collective heads together to produce this sci-fi concept knockout. Compound meters were compounded, Dylan song titles got thieved, computer voice simulators were employed to poetic effect, and Generation X got their very own Dark Side Of The Moon. The real appeal of the record wasn't in the layered production or even in Jonny Greenwood's grab bag of quirky guitar leads, but in singer Thom Yorke's desperate, wavering pleas for genuine affection in a world of emotionless automatons. Despite the apocalyptic imagery of tunes like "Airbag" and "The Tourist," Computer was ultimately a positive listening experience -- the album's most uplifting lyric was "Let Down"'s assurance that "you'll know where you are," an appropriate message of self-realization for the record where Radiohead found themselves.       - Western Homes

1. Slint - Spiderland (Touch and Go, 1991)

At some point during my high school career I distinctly recall debating whether or not Spiderland had a greater positive effect on music than Nevermind. While Nevermind had a much greater total effect, the vast majority of the bands it influenced would have no place in my life, and in addition, it paved the way for Courtney Love's career. On the other hand, Slint created a genre that has provided most of the musical expansion of the nineties with an album that has sent myriad chills up my spine. Reviewers everywhere give themselves a pat on the back when they can review an album without name-dropping this one. If you haven't listened to Spiderland alone in the complete dark, try it. If you haven't listened to it on vinyl, score, I haven't either.       - Sebastian Stirling