Essential ’90s Alternative Albums

Never let naysayers tell you that a band born of Seattle’s Jeff Ament have grounded Pearl Jam in muddy Pacific Northwest glory from day one. But from the time they arrived on Ten, it’s been clear that their vision went beyond grunge.

The Neil Young / Crazy Horse live vibe that the band bears to this day can be traced back to Ten, and that feel melded with Eddie Vedder’s baritone growl makes Pearl Jam Seattle’s closest thing to old-school rock heroes. The ubiquitous “Alive” and “Jeremy” grabbed the world’s attention with raging riffs and angst-filled narratives, but “Black” displayed the band’s big, beating heart.

On 1991’s Out of Time, ‘80s indie poster children R.E.M. became the alternative nation’s arena-rock superstars. Their follow-up, Automatic for the People, feels like a reaction to having fame hoisted upon them and a lament for the loss of their indie youth. Rather than delivering more larger-than-life tracks like “Radio Song” and “Shiny Happy People,” Automatic ushers listeners into the quiet darkness.

The gentle grace of “Nightswimming” and the ominous aura of “Drive” help make this R.E.M.’s most inward-looking album up to that point, with the string arrangements of Andy Kaufman (“Man on the Moon”) a pop hit. And only a band with as much emotional mileage as them could have crafted the gentle anthem, “Everybody Hurts.”

After Nevermind took care of conquering the planet, Nirvana decided to remind everybody that their original intention was to be a brainy punk band. Drafting up the late-indie legend Kurt Cobain scattered brilliant tracks like “All Apologies” and “Heart Shaped Box” amid all the tinnitus-baiting uproar. In Utero should have been the ramp-up to even greater brilliance, but as a swan song, it retains all the band’s charm.

Straight out of the gate, Weezer found the magic formula that blended the raw power of post-grunge alt-rock crunch with hook-heavy power-pop smarts. Sprinkling the mixture with a generous dose of self-deprecating Gen X humor and weapons-grade irony, the L.A. band’s debut album became a milestone of the ‘90s alternative explosion.

The Cars’ mastermind, Rivers Cuomo and company proved it was possible to geek out and rock out, taking over MTV with “Buddy Holly” and “Undone – The Sweater Song.”

The ‘90s alternative boom lacked a star troubadour in the classic mode until Grace filled that void. Tim Buckley, but his sound was his own. On his debut album, Jeff Buckley combined elements of modern rock mixed with jazz, folk, psychedelia, and more to create his singular vision.

On top of the instrumentation laid Buckley’s superhuman vocal chops, which allowed him to accomplish anything he could envision. His tragic drowning in 1997 precluded the completion of his second album, making Grace perhaps the era’s greatest one-off.

McCartney.

It would take the following year’s (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? to break Oasis internationally. However, the outsized, arena-ready U.K. hits like “Live Forever” and “Cigarettes & Alcohol” made it plain that Manchester was the current musical center of the country.

In the grand tradition of ‘70s double-album classics, Billy Corgan and his crew could dream up. It’s got hazy, falsetto-filled ballads (“Take Me Down”), nine-minute prog epics (“Porcelina of the Vast Oceans”), screaming metal (“Tales of a Scorched Earth”), eerie semi-cabaret (“Lily [My One and Only]”), and, of course, plenty of the moody alt rockers that made the band famous.

Radiohead became superheroes on OK Computer, making multiple evolutionary leaps in a single bound. The band spent their first two albums learning to be a rock band, but OK Computer is all about shattering those templates and building a dystopian, sci-fi-flavored masterpiece from the shards. It’s the sound of Radiohead basking in the freedom to explore electronic textures and unconventional song structures while maintaining a masterful flow. Some irers hailed OK Computer as the second coming of prog; the band demurred, but genre distinctions aside, it sure fits the dictionary definition of “progressive.”

Neutral Milk Hotel’s second, seemingly final release sounds like nothing before. In The Aeroplane Over the Sea is a frenzied carnival where folk, psychedelia, and indie rock cavort with dadaism, surrealism, and outsider art, setting the stage for the arrival of the freak-folk scene in the 2000s.

This intoxicating peek inside frontman Jeff Magnum‘s head sounds is part folkie field recording, part lo-fi indie rock fever dream, part Salvation Army band rehearsal, part mariachi punk free-for-all. The group mixes conventional rock gear with musical saw, banjo, uillean pipes, accordion, multiple brass instruments, and more. Initially, Aeroplane was a strictly underground phenomenon, but the album’s cult status exploded in the early 2010s.

How do you grow up without slowing down? That’s the question John Frusciante finally returning to his rightful role as the band’s guitar hero, the band embraced and embodied rock stardom more fully than ever.

At the same time, they built on the promise of their 1992 hit, “Under the Bridge,” leaning into nuanced tunes with soft-pedaled dynamics, scoring some of their biggest wins with “Scar Tissue” and “Otherside.” They did, however, find space to pursue their famed funky side on “Get on Top” and “I Like Dirt.”