11 Great Alternative Rock Albums from the Late 1980s

In earlier articles, we surveyed some standout albums of the New Wave years (1978-1982) and college radio era (1983-86). This time, we’ll cover 11 great records from pre-Nirvana years, 1987 to 1990.

Nirvana released Nevermind in 1991, a watershed moment not just for Nirvana, but for punk and alternative rock in general. Indie rock endures to this day. Yet, with Nirvana’s ascent, the best “indie” band became one of America’s biggest bands, and the distinction lost meaning.

This list will follow more or less the same rules as the earlier entries. We’ll focus on albums that represent an artist’s best work. We’ll mostly avoid major labels and mainstream acts. We love Talk Talk‘s Spirit of Eden, but that band’s Top-40 origins make it a problematic pick.

What follows is, of course, a mere sampling of great indie records from the pre-Nirvana years. Please tell us some others in the comments.

Louder Than Bombs – The Smiths, March 1987.

To keep up with the Smiths in the 1980s, you had to shell out for a succession of pricey singles. A lot of their best songs weren’t on the albums, a quality that set them apart from most other artists on this list. Louder Than Bombs was a godsend, collecting two dozen A and B sides, some of which hadn’t been available in the United States. Here, in one place, you got “Shoplifters of the World Unite,” “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now,” “Ask,” and “William, It Was Really Nothing.” It’s still my favorite Smiths release. No other collection, perhaps, displays the band’s consistent artistry across five brief years.

You’re Living All Over Me – Dinosaur Jr., December 1987.

Dinosaur Jr. visited my college around the time this album came out. The band was the talk of campus, at least among the ranks of amateur musicians: Just when you thought they could play no louder, it was said, the guitarist would punch another distortion pedal and pin you to the wall. Who knew that Dinosaur Jr. would be around nearly 40 years later. The best song from the original incarnation is probably “Freak Scene,” from Bug (1988), but this was the best album. It’s also my favorite SST release from the post-Hüsker Dü years.

Surfer Rosa – Pixies, March 1988.

From the thundering drums that open “Bone Machine,” Surfer Rosa was the sound every loud band sought at the turn of the 1990s. The record announced the arrival of the Pixies, the uber-indie act of its era, and it made the reputation of Steve Albini, late of Big Black, as a curmudgeonly Chicago record producer. To hear what Surfer Rosa inspired, check out Nirvana’s In Utero and PJ Harvey‘s Rid of Me. Singer Black Francis revealed one of punk rock’s great voices and a brace of brilliant songs. This album also launched Kim Deal, bassist and future Breeder. The follow-up, Doolittle (1989), is nearly as good.

Life’s Too Good – The Sugarcubes, April 1988.

This Icelandic import was the first and best release from the Sugarcubes, and it introduced many U.S. indie fans to the legendary Björk. Neither band nor album has aged particularly well: You don’t hear Sugarcubes songs much these days, and I don’t see the album on many lists of all-time greats. But Björk was a brilliant singer, as gifted as Black Francis, and her delivery elevates “Birthday” and “Deus” into the pantheon. A few other songs sound dated, and second vocalist Einar Örn Benediktsson is an acquired taste, Fred Schneider with an attitude. Still, Life’s Too Good is a great album.

Daydream Nation – Sonic Youth, October 1988.

This record established Sonic Youth as the preeminent artist of punk rock’s artsy wing, if not of all indie rock. I read somewhere that Sister (1987) was Sonic Youth‘s Highway 61 and Daydream Nation its Blonde on Blonde. Maybe so. The earlier albums Evol (1986) and Sister are terrific, but transitional. Daydream Nation is Sonic Youth’s magnum opus. By this time, the band had learned to harness noise in the service of melody, weird but tuneful chords, and actual pop hooks. It was as if the “White Light”-era Velvet Underground had Evol-ved into the Rolling Stones. “Teen Age Riot” ranks with “Freak Scene” among the great songs of the 1980s.

Isn’t Anything – My Bloody Valentine, November 1988.

Another stunning debut, Isn’t Anything introduced a band as flat-out loud as Dinosaur Jr., and just as enamored of Fender Jazzmasters and the distortion pedal. Unlike the comparatively prolific Dinosaur, MBV produced only three studio albums (and two masterpieces, the second being Loveless, in 1991). But what albums they are. “Lose My Breath” and “Cupid Come,” from Isn’t Anything, are mesmerizing sludge-fests. “Breath” features the sublime vocals of Bilinda Butcher, whose dreamy vibe was supposedly induced by recording the tracks just after she had awakened. “You Never Should” hurtles like a broken roller coaster. Kevin Shields emerged from the muck as a bona fide guitar hero, much like J Mascis of Dinosaur, rare birds in the college radio era.

Cosmic Thing – The B-52s, June 1989.

Cosmic Thing marked a spectacular comeback for the B-52s following the death of founding guitarist Ricky Wilson, not to mention a massive commercial breakthrough. To fully appreciate this record, imagine hearing it upon its release, before “Love Shack” and “Roam” blared forth from every car speaker in America. Had it not become huge, I think Cosmic Thing would be regarded today as a forgotten indie-pop masterpiece. “Dry Country,” “Deadbeat Club” and “Topaz” are harmonic gems. Singers Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson are a revelation, a full decade after the band’s recorded debut. I think Cosmic Thing finally solved the puzzle of how to blend their intertwined harmonies with Fred Schneider’s droll commentary.

The Mekons Rock ‘n Roll – Mekons, September 1989.

I saw the Mekons at a half-empty L.A. club a couple of years after this record came out. You couldn’t have asked for a better rock-and-roll album than The Mekons Rock ‘n Roll, a feast of Beatle-esque guitar riffs propelling powerful songs with Daily Worker lyrics. And yet, even in L.A., the band couldn’t fill a room. The Mekons started out as first-wave British punks. They eventually relocated to Chicago, where I believe they remain. The Mekons Rock ‘n Roll is their finest hour, although Fear and Whiskey (1985) is a classic post-punk album, and anything Sally Timms sings is worth hearing. I own one of approximately 10 vinyl copies of “Rock ‘n Roll” sold in the States.

13 Songs – Fugazi, September 1989.

The second compilation on this list, 13 Songs combines the first two EPs from Fugazi, a post-punk supergroup that arose from the ashes of (at least) two legendary D.C. hardcore ensembles, Minor Threat and Rites of Spring. Fugazi slowed hardcore’s tempo without sapping its energy, injecting polyrhythms and jagged riffs to yield aerobic punk anthems. The energy between Fugazi and its audience was explosive, an effect I saw at only a few other shows of that era. (A Fishbone/Primus double bill comes to mind.) I found a Fugazi video with 10 million views. But good luck explaining the band, let alone humming a tune, to a nonbeliever.

Key Lime Pie – Camper Van Beethoven, September 1989.

I feel a little sheepish including the final Camper Van Beethoven LP on this list: It is the least CVB-sounding CVB album, more like a Lowery solo LP. But it’s a brilliant set of songs, probably the most consistent CVB collection. With this recording, frontman David Lowery traded the absurdist wit of “Good Guys and Bad Guys” and “We Saw Jerry’s Daughter” for darker stuff about JFK and Thomas Pynchon and Ronald Reagan and the death of the American Dream. “Sweethearts,” “When I Win the Lottery” and “All Her Favorite Fruit” are tragic epics, with the lyrical depth of Springsteen. Come on Darkness, indeed.

Heaven or Las Vegas – Cocteau Twins, September 1990.

Elizabeth Fraser of Cocteau Twins was one of Britain’s great indie-rock voices of this era, along with Beth Gibbons of Portishead, Tracey Thorn of Everything but the Girl and the aforementioned Sally Timms. Cocteau Twins, a Scottish dream-pop trio, produced several lovely, ethereal albums, including Treasure (1984) and Blue Bell Knoll (1988). Heaven or Las Vegas is a bit more accessible than the others, and the title track became a college-radio hit. I’ve played all of these records dozens of times, and I’m still trying to figure them out.

Daniel de Visé is a frequent AllMusic contributor and author of King of the Blues: The Rise and Reign of B.B. King and The Blues Brothers: An Epic Friendship, the Rise of Improv, and the Making of an American Film Classic.