1990, The Year in Review, P4

Shoegaze, Native Tongues rap, and music from or inspired by the developing world dominate the final installment of my top 30, alongside some infectious dance music and the first full-fledged sighting of alt-country.

Ten More Albums, for
My Top 30 Albums of 1990

As always, you can jump to the playlist at the bottom of each post to listen while you read.

Within each tier (Top 6, Next 6, etc.), all albums are listed roughly chronologically (all release dates from Wikipedia, unless otherwise noted).

Ali Farka Touré
The River

Released 1990/01

I’d had Ali Farka Touré’s self-titled 1988 album—the first international release for the Malian musician—for many years before I finally checked out 1990’s The River. The earlier release is much more spare (sometimes to great effect, but lacking variety somewhat), and on The River he’s done a great job at working in additional instruments and a more propulsive rhythm.

This music thrills me in the same way as the best of Geoffrey Oryema’s Exile—part of its appeal lies in how different it is from anything else I regularly listen to. It sounds completely fresh to my ears. Crisp, clicking percussion and the banjo-like ngoni play alongside tenor saxophone on “Ai Bine,” a fiddle-like njarka runs cirlces around itself on “Instrumental,” and Touré’s electric blues guitar work shines throughout alongside his distinctive singing. Good stuff.

Pale Saints
The Comforts of Madness

Released 1990/02/12

There was no shortage of shoegaze in 1990 England, and the Pale Saints’ The Comforts of Madness is one of the better albums to come out of the scene.

Although songs like “Way the World Is” and “You Tear the World in Two” show Pale Saints are capable of rumbling and driving guitar propulsion, they aim for pop tunefulness rather than a guitar assault on songs like “Language of Flowers” and “Fell from the Sun.”

Like many a shoegaze act, Pale Saints are perhaps a touch too content to sound merely pretty when they sing through the haze, as opposed to bringing some genuine character to the vocals. But the overall effect still manages to charm and seduce. Recommended.

A Tribe Called Quest
People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm

Released 1990/04/10

I knew A Tribe Called Quest first from their breakthrough 1991 sophomore album, The Low End Theory—and long after the fact, at that. I didn’t pick Low End Theory up until the end of the 90s, when I saw it on a best-of-the-decade list. I had been pretty up-to-date with rap during the last few years of the ‘80s, but the early-to-mid-‘90s were a time when I was more focused on what would soon be called alternative rock.

People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm, A Tribe Called Quest’s debut, is a little less jazzy and funky than their debut, and a little more goofy, but they seem to have arrived nearly fully formed. “Bonita Applebum” is an amusing tribute to a girl with a voluminous posterior, the immensely catchy “Can I Kick It?” masterfully uses a slick Lou Reed sample for a positivity-filled outpouring of rap bravado, “Youthful Expression” gets jazzy with some Reuben Wilson organ, and “Ham ‘n’ Eggs” is a humorous call-and-response discussion of dietary habits. Elsewhere, they pay tribute to French hip-hop artist Lucien Revolucien, warn of the dangers of STDs, and channel Sanford and Son to tell the story of a lost wallet.

As with all their albums, I feel this one could use a little pruning—not because there are weak tracks (there are none), but because their style of laid-back groove inevitably starts to disappear into the background a little for me after a time. So while there are no obvious tracks to cut, a shorter playlist (say, a traditional 44-minute LP length) would make their strengths more apparent.

I find the track sequence a little puzzling, too. Typically, in the CD era especially, you need to start strong; ending strong is important, too. By my reckoning, the strongest sequence of songs here comes in the middle (I’d say, tracks 6-12 out of 14), right where the weakest tracks can often be found on a CD, an unusual choice.

Still, it’s a very good disc, and an obvious must for fans of jazzy, East Coast, flower-power rap—what do they call themselves again? Native Tongues? It’s pretty damned essential for rap fans of any style, in fact.

Uncle Tupelo
No Depression

Released 1990/06/21

To many people, it seems, Uncle Tupelo’s No Depression is the Holy Grail of alternative country. I checked it out sometime mid-‘90s after getting into both Wilco and Son Volt, the bands that Jeff Tweedy and Jay Farrar formed after Uncle Tupelo disbanded. I liked No Depression without loving it, preferring the later Being There and Trace.

Now, I feel roughly the same way. I really like No Depression when it’s on, but putting it on seems a bit of a chore, like it’s something I feel I should listen to more than something I actively seek out.

That both Tweedy and Farrar got their start in Uncle Tupelo makes it noteworthy, though. And I must acknowledge that for those who were hip to it right away it must have been a real eye-opener. Certainly, it brings a punk rock energy to country music that I don’t offhand recall having heard on any earlier recording. Someone even named a magazine after the album!

One thing that seems evident from a more thorough listen of No Depression is that Jeff Tweedy was still finding his feet at this point. This feels very much Jay Farrar’s band; at least, he handles far more of the lead vocal duties and gets co-writing credit on almost all the songs. Farrar rocks harder here than he would on the subsequent solo releases I’ve heard, on fiery tracks like “Graveyard Shift” and “Before I Break” and the soft-loud-soft “Whisky Bottle.” Tweedy’s high point comes with the driving, rhythmic “Flatness.”

All in all, No Depression is a worthy album, even if the later work of both Farrar and (especially) Tweedy would eventually surpass it.

Deee-Lite
World Clique

Released 1990/08/07

Good fun from the New York house and dance scene, Deee-Lite’s World Clique must surely be one of the pop albums of the decade. Only a fool would dismiss the glorious cheese of “What is Love?” and “E.S.P.” and “Power of Love.” And the smash hit “Groove is in the Heart” is simply unstoppable, and essential.

Geoffrey Oryema
Exile

Released 1990/09/10

The odd-numbered tracks of Geoffrey Oryema’s Exile are pure African music bliss. As I can’t understand the lyrics, they all kind of sounded the same to me at first, but they don’t sound like anything else I’ve got, and that has to count for something. Repeated listening, of course, reveals the distinctions between the tracks that are obscured by the shock of the new. Throughout, Oryema’s lukeme (a sort of finger-piano similar to an mbira, on “Piri Wango Iya” and others) and nanga (a type of bowed harp, on “Piny Runa Woko,” for example) add percussive texture and rhythm to the proceedings. Fascinating stuff.

The even-numbered tracks have been Westernized with synths and more (courtesy of producer Brian Eno and others), sometimes with a light touch, other times with the subtlety of a sledgehammer (and in general less successfully than the fusions of Paul Simon, I feel). They’re still good, but less “different” and therefore less intriguing.

The album gets its title from Oryema himself, who had to flee his home country of Uganda in 1977 after his father, an official in Idi Amin’s government, was reportedly murdered after an alleged attempted coup.  He was smuggled out in the trunk of a car.

Cocteau Twins
Heaven or Las Vegas

Released 1990/09/17

What kind of band names a song “Frou-Frou Foxes in Midsummer Fires”?

A silly as the title is, the song is anything but. After a slow start, the song picks up and swells into such an outpouring of luxuriant sound that it renders the song’s title immaterial. By the time it’s over, I couldn’t care less what the song is called or even what it’s about.

Heaven or Las Vegas was the Cocteau Twins’ most accessible album to date, with vocalist Elisabeth Fraser’s multi-tracked voice thrust to the front of the mix in a kaleidoscope of sound, like Siouxsie’s cute little sister. The entire disc is lush, alluring, and otherworldly.

Pretty sounds for goths—they deserve beauty, too, like the rest of us.

Listen to more Cocteau Twins.

Ride
Nowhere

Released 1990/10/15

I remember seeing Ride’s Nowhere in the record stores when it came out, and it seems to me I knew exactly what kind of music it was, either because I’d sampled it at a listening station or heard it from a friend—or simply because the album cover so wonderfully captures the album’s sound so well. But I had never really listened to it until recently.

And my first take on it was pretty “meh,” honestly. But it’s a grower.

First, the “meh”: The vocals come across as pretty lame, typical of the other like-minded purveyors of hazy, guitar-effects-driven music of the time (branded shoegaze by a disdainful music press because the bands spent more time looking at their array of effects pedals than their audience). To put it frankly, these guys sound almost bored by their own songs. Co-vocalists Andy Bell and Mark Gardener muster up a bit of vocal enthusiasm for the phenomenal album opener “Seagull,” an obvious highlight. But on album closer “Vapour Trail” Bell could be singing about trail mix, for all the passion he invests in it. He seems content to have it sound mostly on pitch and half-way pretty.

But oh, that guitar squall. “Seagull” rides a rumbling wave (that album cover again) of guitar energy that sweeps you in like a glorious undertow. And when the searing flood of guitar erupts around 2:45 into “Dreams Burn Down,” it hits you like a tsunami. Even “Vapour Trail” ends up being a rich listening experience, despite its vocal shortcomings.

I dunno. This album gets absolute rave reviews in some circles, and I love the guitar. Musically, I love the way the songs develop and flow. They work some nice strings in for the quieter moments. And after a time, I’ve mostly forgotten my initially nonplussed reaction to the singing. You get used to it.

But I can’t bring myself to love the album. I don’t insist that rock singers have good voices—I love Dylan’s electric period, after all, and he sings like a bleating sheep—but I do ask that they have at least an ounce of personality. (And no, “nice, shy boy” does not qualify as a compelling rock personality.)

But oh, that guitar squall. And I should try to assess a band according to its strengths over its relative weaknesses.

In the end, Nowhere is a worthy album, especially for those into shoegaze. Ride aren’t as inventive as their cohorts in My Bloody Valentine, yet they do a good job at incorporating that style into more grandiose song structures. I can certainly see their influence in the post-rock genre.

By the way, the song “Nowhere” is nowhere to be found on the original Nowhere vinyl LP—it was released on the earlier Fall EP, and only included on the CD version of Nowhere as a bonus track.

Paul Simon
The Rhythm of the Saints

Released 1990/10/16

Does it reveal my white middle-class roots that I dig Paul Simon’s white-boy appropriation of African and other world music sounds on The Rhythm of the Saints? Most likely.

And it’s true that the album is not without fault. It lacks the playful humor of Graceland, and the songs tend to blend a little with one another, without any stand-out memorable tracks.

And sometimes Simon is a little too preciously faux-spiritual—why is it that a certain type of person feels that in order to get mystical, they have to adopt a third-world pose? I bet 1977-era David Byrne could find the meaning of life in a greasy, discarded pizza box—or, at the very least, that’s where he might look for it first—and he wouldn’t have to float down the Congo River to do it. (Of course, by 1990 Byrne was also looking for truth in similar regions.)

Yet despite its flaws, on the whole I find The Rhythm of the Saints a rich and engaging album. Simon incorporates a breadth of world music elements seamlessly, and with flourish—from the frenetically dancing percussion of “Can’t Run But” to the crisp guitar work of “Proof.” Each piece is like a vibrant musical tapestry; there’s so much going on—African guitar, Brazilian percussion, American horns, and more—yet each song feels a coherent whole. He’s come a long way since the simple adaptation of “El Condor Pasa.”

I can understand why some folks might criticize Simon for artistic colonization; but many of those same folks probably like Pablo Picasso and Remain in Light. Sure, if no one who listened to The Rhythm of the Saints ever chose to explore world music any further, then I suppose there’d be a problem here. But I highly doubt this is the case. Artists like David Byrne and Peter Gabriel—and, yes, Paul Simon—have broadened the North American aesthetic awareness to the benefit of musicians from all over the world. I consider them less colonizers than consciousness-raisers. And while The Rhythm of the Saints is no Graceland, it’s still a captivating and immersive listening experience.

Brand Nubian
One for All

Released 1990/12/04

Not quite as cool as A Tribe Called Quest, not quite as creatively interesting as De La Soul, not quite as funny as KMD, not quite as politically charged as Public Enemy, Brand Nubian are the middle-of-the-road East Coast rappers. Good stuff, yes, but probably destined to be a bit of an afterthought, in comparison with their peers.

Which is a shame, because One for All is loaded with tracks many rap acts would kill to have made. “Wake Up (Reprise In The Sunshine)” speaks Black awareness and self-determination, “Concerto in X Minor” chronicles poor, black, urban struggles, and “Slow Down” gives advice to some folks who are on a fast road to nowhere. On a less political note, there’s plenty of great rap boasting on infectiously funky tracks like “All for One,” “Feels So Good,” and “To the Right.” An essential listen for Natives Tongues rap fans.

Here’s the 1990: The Year in Review playlist for you—three tracks per album.

The playlist is sequenced chronologically according to release date (with a few concessions to playability), with the exception of the Sonic Youth album which opens the playlist and the KLF album which should close it (not currently available in Spotify).

Enjoy!

Playlist Notes: 

• I was not able to find the KLF’s Chill Out album on Spotify. 
• Neil Young’s discography is currently unavailable in Spotify, including Ragged Glory (1990).

More 1990, The Year in Review

More Years in Review of the 1990s…

Cover Art Citations:

• The River: By May be found at the following website: https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/81rkm8+8efL._SS500_.jpg https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/81rkm8+8efL._SS500_.jpg, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=59928106
• The Comforts of Madness: By The cover art can be obtained from 4AD., Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=57360535
• People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm: By Derived from a digital capture (photo/scan) of the album cover (creator of this digital version is irrelevant as the copyright in all equivalent images is still held by the same party). Copyright held by the record company or the artist. Claimed as fair use regardless., Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=311898
• No Depression: By May be found at the following website: From https://www.amazon.com/No-Depression-Uncle-Tupelo/dp/B00008J2RA/sr=8-1Resized to 250x250px to comply with fair use., Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7347289
• World Clique: Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=49361468
• Exile: By Exile, music album by Geoffrey Oryema, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2900226
• Heaven or Las Vegas: By Obtained from iTunes on 8 August 2017.[1], Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=14417791
• Nowhere: By www.amazon.com, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3347954
• The Rhythm of the Saints: By A scanner, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15383275
• One for All: By Derived from a digital capture (photo/scan) of the album cover (creator of this digital version is irrelevant as the copyright in all equivalent images is still held by the same party). Copyright held by the record company or the artist. Claimed as fair use regardless., Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4991208