Well, not much to say about this one. Another Guided by Voices record, another 15 or so absolute pop gems from Pollard and Co, clocking in at about two minutes each. These are interspersed with a few other downright weird experimental ditties which are either brilliant acts of genius or miserable failures, depending on whom you ask. Regardless, "Game of Pricks," "Watch Me Jumpstart," "As We Go Up, We Go Down", and "Closer You Are" constitute some of the best pure pop this author has heard since the days of the Beatles, or at very least the Cars. The rest of the album more than stands up for itself, as even the usual throwaway tracks are at worst amusing and at best almost on the level of the aforementioned songs.       - Jared Dunn

89. Geraldine Fibbers - Butch (Virgin, 1997)

If you've seen American Beauty, then you know the scene where Kevin Spacey imagines rose petals bursting forth from Mena Suvari's bosom. That's sort of how I envision Carla Bozulich on Butch, except that along with rose petals, she also spews blood, razor blades, bourbon, dirty underwear, candy, and baby birds that are just learning how to fly. Spurred on by Nels Cline's wonderfully unhinged guitar playing, Carla and The Geraldine Fibbers kick off Butch by diving full-bore into dark, harrowing rock (the joyful "California Tuffy", the sneering "I Killed The Cuckoo"), then take a breather for some deceptively straight country tunes ("Folks Like Me" and "Pet Angel"), descend into the depths of mournful despair (the title track), and expire with a lush, delicate sigh, with Carla wistfully singing "I found a reason to live today". All this, and a cover of Can's "Yoo Doo Right" thrown in for good measure.       - Nick Mirov

88. Storm & Stress - Storm & Stress (Touch and Go, 1997)

Take a pretty song, stick it in the oven, and heat it on low until the colors bleed together and structure melts and what there was left of rhythm has dripped off the cooking rack. At the same time difficult and beautiful, Storm and Stress is one of those bands that just plays, no matter what happens. The songs (if you want to call them that) seem completely improvised but move with such sadness and unstable need, like a desperate drunk poet, that they couldn't have happened by accident. The world falls apart on this album, drums losing time, bass strings buzzing, barely held together by a thread of melody. Dissonance has never been so heartbreaking.       - Martin Pavlinic

87. Frank Black - Frank Black (4AD, 1993)

Frank Black's first solo outing was a surreptitious affair, quietly recorded before his public announcement of the break up of the Pixies a few months before its release. In retrospect, much of the Pixies swan-song Trompe Le Monde sounds like Black (then Black Francis) already moving in a solo direction, what with the diminished contributions of Kim Deal, and the introduction of the keyboards and synthetics that would become a hallmark of his early solo career. There are songs on Frank Black that would not sound out of place on a Pixies record ("Ten Percenter", "Czar"), but by and large the record was a departure from the Pixies formula. All of the peculiarities, obscure references, and sci-fi obsessions that characterized the Pixies catalog are all here, but turned up to 11, while much of the ferocity and sexual lyrical content of the Pixies is jettisoned in favor of a child-like whimsy. The record, like its successor, Teenager of the Year, is a triumph of self-indulgence and was proof positive that there was indeed life after the Pixies for Black.       - Matthew Perpetua

86. Guided By Voices- Under The Bushes Under The Stars (Matador, 1996)

Inching out of the world of lo-fi here, this is the first Guided by Voices album since their belated entrance into the upper echelons to indie rock to explicitly outline Robert Pollard's true intentions. He wants to make rock n' roll music in the broadest sense of the word, music not of "the moment", but music that will fit in with any period on the rock n'roll timeline, music not for some abstract in-crowd, but for anyone at all who cares to give a listen. Art-rock, psychedelia, bubblegum pop, and left-of-center weirdness are all just toys in a box to played with and Pollard wants to try them all out and play with each thing all at once, his only limits being that there are only so many hours in a day and you can only strum one guitar and sing one song at a time. So here's the album, full of music that would sound equally comfortable if played between the mainstream-defying obscurities of an indie rock radio show as it would if played between stadium walls to enormous crowds who sing along with their favorites and punctuate each song with their thousands of clapping hands.       - Oliver Kneale

85. Dr. Dre - The Chronic (Death Row, 1992)

"Compton and Long Beach together, now you know you in trouble." Dr. Dre shouldn't have gotten away with The Chronic - so radically different then everything else that was hip-hop in 1992, it forced a bevy of studio gangstas to forget everything they knew and start over from square one. But in Snoop Doggy Dogg (nee Calvin Broadus) he found a lugubrious, blunt-lovin' sidekick who could fill the spaces in between Dre's radical beats with authority. "Fuck Wit' Dre Day" and "Nuthin' But a G Thang" were so ubiquitous on MTV and urban radio that they threatened to supplant "and the rockets' red glare" with "Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick." Sampling live instruments, creating the melodies that a whole nation would be humming just by diddling around in the studio, Dre created a soundscape that no one has been able to recreate... until his own Dre 2001. There are some albums that everybody ought to own. But above them are the albums everybody already does own. Making millions of thirteen year-old white kids talk like Rudy Ray Moore - now that's an accomplishment. So meet me at the fuckin' swap meet and we'll share a twenty dollar sack of endo, bitch, and toast Dre's invention of the suburban ghetto.       - Western Homes

84. Primal Scream - Vanishing Point (Reprise, 1997)

While Primal Scream is best known for their dance rock combination, their previous release to Vanishing Point, Give Out But Don't Give Up, sounded more like the Rolling Stones than anyone in a dance club could stand, and without a strong rebound, they'd be out of an audience. While this style still remains on Vanishing Point, it mingles with so many other styles that it almost seems strange that they'd ever make an entire album of it. Vanishing Point slithers like the confident beast it should be, and hey, you can dance to it.       - Sebastian Stirling

83. Nine Inch Nails- The Fragile (Interscope, 1999)

Back in the day, I did like Nine Inch Nails. Really. We've all been down that road. At one point or another during high school, you turned to Mr. Reznor and his industrial endeavors to cope with some of your angst. And that's fine. But Trent took a few years off, and while I grew a great deal, he just makes longer versions of what he did before, opting for the double album comeback route. Aside from the single, which sounded exactly like I expected it to, I haven't heard The Fragile. I don't have that angst anymore, but I suppose some other people still do, and need release. Just try not to carve any of the cliched lyrics into your leg.       - Sebastian Stirling

82. The Chemical Brothers - Exit Planet Dust (Astralwerks, 1995)

I was going to protest this being on the list, but then I regained my cool and remembered the Chemical Brothers show I went to, where 12,000 college kids, probably all with 1300+ SAT scores, stripped down to their tank tops and Nirvana t-shirts and danced around like idiots while waving chemical glowsticks in each other's faces. You know, "Leave Home" is a really good song to dance to. So is "Song To The Siren," and "In Dust We Trust," and most of the rest of this record, except for the slow songs, which are good to wipe the sweat of your body with your brand new $25 Chemical Brothers t-shirt and ask for the phone number of the coed with the pierced navel two rows up from you to.       - Western Homes

81. Bonnie "Prince" Billy - I See A Darkness (Palace, 1999)

Never was Satan worship this much fun! After several records under the "Palace" persona celebrating fundamentalism, horseback riding, and incest, Will Oldham embraced his dark side with I See A Darkness. The album's obsession with skulls is exactly the only thing it has in common with The Misfits. The music, piano- and bass-driven with tiny little bits of drum and barely audible jangle guitar, continues in the grand Palace brothers country-but-not-this-country tradition (with no irritating experimental additions like drum machines or Steve Albini). The gag is that I See A Darkness's songs, with bright little titles like "Death To Everyone," are backed by sprightly (for Oldham) melodies and happy background vocals. The title track even has an anthemic chorus! The moral: Satan is cool, especially when he's played by Al Pacino and gets to wear really cool overcoats.       - Western Homes