The rise of Sub Pop Records is a tale of Cinderella stature: Prince Charming came in the form of a rogue Aberdeen poet, and the rest, as they say, is history. But that was only the beginning of the story. From longhaired grunge to squeaky-clean indie folk to a world-music imprint and now hip-hop, the Seattle label has proven time and again to be one of the most reliable tastemakers in the biz. For over two decades, they've helped define whatever "indie music" is, or soon will be.Sub Pop's formative years are often synonymous with the advent of grunge, but this isn't a totally accurate perception. Sure, they kick-started the careers of Nirvana and Soundgarden, but they also gave artists like Sebadoh, Sunny Day Real Estate, Codeine and Julie Doiron a platform on which to evolve — and to ultimately influence.
Below, we spotlight 15 key albums from Sub Pop's salad days. (Stay tuned for a Cheat Sheet of Sub Pop's post-2000 catalog.) For more from the label's early years, check out our comprehensive playlist of Sub Pop stars:
Sub Pop Records, The Early Years ('88-'99).
NirvanaBleach
Nirvana's heaviest album, with its prominent Melvins influence, delivers the band's perfect prescription — a head-nodding riff, Kurt Cobain's freaked-out loner verses followed by mirror-punching just before the chorus — just as powerfully as it did in 1989. Their next record would go global, but Bleach pile drives harder. The crisp remastering of this deluxe version dares you not to turn tracks like "Scoff," "Swap Meet" and "School" all the way up. An entire live set from the early days is included, and the sound on these cuts is fantastic. — Mike McGuirk
The VaselinesEnter the Vaselines
Sub Pop's first try, 1992's The Way of the Vaselines: A Complete History, was good. But Enter the Vaselines is slightly better. A deluxe reissue of its predecessor, this 36-track juggernaut boasts new cover art, a new title, a thoughtful remastering of the group's existing catalog and a smattering of previously unreleased demos and live tracks. Though you could argue Enter the Vaselines is for hardcore twee fans only, it does offer newbies a fuller understanding of these indie pop icons. — Justin Farrar
SebadohBakesale
Bakesale goes a long way in demonstrating why Sebadoh are the quintessential lo-fi band of the '90s. Anchored by Lou Barlow's off-kilter, acoustic-based songs, this is the band's most accessible outing to date. Crowning jewels "Rebound" and "Skull" strike a perfect balance between jangle pop and noisy indie rock. — Linda Ryan
Afghan WhigsCongregation
Cincinnati's Afghan Whigs are crucial to the birth of '90s alternative rock. The first band signed to Sub Pop Records without roots in the Pacific Northwest, they rocked blustery disenchantment as intensely as any of their Seattle brethren. There's an effortless precision in vocalist Greg Dulli's libidinous groans and howls of slacker frustration; his lyrics are full of stifling dissatisfaction and boozy philosophy ("drink it, smoke it, stick it in"). It's all held together by roughed-up rock heightened by lead guitarist Rick McCollum's slick and sleazy riffage. — Stephanie Benson
Sunny Day Real EstateDiary
This raw and deliriously good debut album from the Seattle band has garnered hosts of similar-sounding acts in its wake. It's a tightly constructed album of loud and soft dynamics, moderation followed by catharsis. Most convincing are Jeremy Enigk's raspy vocals, which sound like a man in need of some sort of therapy. — Rhapsody
CodeineFrigid Stars
When released in 1990, Codeine's debut felt like the product of underground outsiders on the verge of homelessness. Years later, Frigid Stars, a slowcore classic, has lost none of its damaged intensity. But distance has revealed the disc's rightful place in rock history. Back then, the trio was seen as Sonic Youth street scum interpreting Joy Division's bleak post-punk. Nowadays, however, Codeine sound equally in debt to Pink Floyd's mid-'70s atmospherics. What a cool realization. — J.F.
Green RiverDry As a Bone/Rehab Doll
Is Green River the first grunge band? Many argue no, citing the long-overlooked U-Men or even Australian bruisers The Scientists. Regardless, Green River's contributions to the movement should not be underestimated. As this 1990 compilation demonstrates, the band was extremely adept at retrofitting the tongue-in-cheek depravity of Black Flag and The Nig-Heist to vintage hard rock. Just about every track here is loud, perverse and obnoxious. Drowning in a sea of nasty riffs, Mark Arm howls like a rabid dog who wants to simultaneously hump your leg and chew it off. — J.F.
L7Smell the Magic
Forget Bricks Are Heavy; Smell the Magic captures L7 at their squalid, furious, slightly self-parodying best. (Is the title a Spinal Tap reference? You be the judge.) Lyrical quality varies — bad girls don't give warnings before they shove — but "Fast and Frightening" makes up for that with lines like "Got so much cl*t/ She don't need no balls." And when those sludgy guitars kick in, it sounds like somebody's taking a chain saw to the recording equipment. Yum. Johnny Thunders may have died penniless and drug-sick, but he left behind a few daughters. Check out the final three bonus tracks. — Rhapsody
MudhoneySuperfuzz Bigmuff
This release combined the band's debut EP alongside a few B-sides and covers. Worth listening to just for "Touch Me I'm Sick," this album is a mess of dirty guitars and the ragged, hyper vocal style of Mark Arm (also of Green River). This is what happens when you let punks listen to the blues. — Rhapsody
Red Red MeatBunny Gets Paid
You'd swear singer and guitarist Tim Rutili, who possesses one weary groan, was some kind of backwoods alt-country troubadour — that is, if it weren't for the dub/industrial grime that's caked all over these 11 jams like a soggy mulch. But still, this is some truly earthy rock 'n' roll — as ragged as anything off the Stones' Exile on Main Street. And as with Exile, there's something inscrutably murky about Red Red Meat's music; just about the only well-defined sound is the killer slide-work. — J.F.
Julie DoironLoneliest in the Morning
Loneliest in the morning is right. From the Joni-like cover to the piano 'n' strum confessionals, this is album is chock full of sad-eyed singer-songwriter fare for those who listen to music while curled into a fetal ball. Don't laugh! We all feel the pain every now and then, and you can do a lot worse than Julie Doiron. Few musicians can make so much from so little. After nearly 20 years on the indie scene (she got her start in Eric's Trip, y'know), Doiron is a bona fide pro at her craft. — J.F.
Elevator to HellEerieconsiliation
Canada's Eric's Trip were a pretty darn cool indie band, but singer Rick White's solo project Elevator (aka Elevator to Hell/Elevator Through) were even better. That's because he submerged E.T.'s love for Sonic Youth and Dinosaur Jr. in the downer psychedelia of Black Sabbath, early Pink Floyd and 13th Floor Elevators. As a result, 1997's Eerieconsiliation is grimy, lo-fi garage pop with hooks that melt into fuzz and fuzz that hardens back into hooks. It's murky, moody and, most of all, eerie. — J.F.
The SpinanesArches and Aisles
Nineteen ninety-eight's Arches & Aisles was recorded after drummer Scott Plouf departed for duties in Built to Spill and is mostly a one-piece act (with friends in the studio) that singer/guitarist Rebecca Gates recorded after she relocated to Chicago. The result is an appealing yet melancholy effort rife with lingering memories and additional studio effects (including sweet Rebecca-on-Rebecca harmonies). It was the final studio release for Sub Pop before Gates officially retired the name and went on to a solo career. — Michele Flannery
Six Finger SatelliteThe Pigeon is the Most Popular Bird
With droves of N.Y.C. hipsters going out to see Erase Errata and Black Dice, it seems that noise rock has finally come into its own. S.F.S. were among the first art school bands to combine jarring rhythms with a No Wave aesthetic and pure, unadulterated freak-rock abrasion. This is their first mega-awesome album. — M.M.
Mark LaneganWhiskey for the Holy Ghost
In 1994, Mark Lanegan was best known as the Screaming Trees' frontman. This, however, is a whole other beast of foreboding fare. So deft at navigating lonesome despair, this guy's brain must resemble a desolate forest of misery. While the Trees' psych-grunge rumble may have masked some of Lanegan's songwriting finesse, his solo work puts it in clear focus. Whiskey for the Holy Ghost highlights his bluesy, brooding baritone with acoustic picking and flecks of organ, strings and sax. Don't miss "The River Rise" and "Sunrise." — S.B.