"...concentrates on a wiry, guitar-driven sound that invites favorable comparison to Television and the Velvet Underground. Combining an aggressive musical style with intelligent lyrics that verbalize vivid vignettes, the band has come of age."

(Rolling Stone, 4/18/91)

At the word go, guitartists Rick Rizzo and Baird Figi spill their case of primary-colored leads, drummer Janet Beveridge Bean's pretty harmonies hug Rizzo's spittle-cured vocals, and bassist Doug McCombs grips the beat...The way I figure it, when they're good, they're real good; when they're not so good, they're still real loud (which is good in my book just the same)."

(Spin (3/91)

Casting the ill-advised attempts at too-clean modern rock from his late-'80s days firmly aside and fulfilling the promise of Skellington and Droolian, Cope on Peggy Suicide produced his best album to date, overtopping even his Teardrop Explodes efforts. Showing a greater musical breadth and range than ever before, from funk to noise collage — and more importantly, not sounding like a dilettante at any step of the way — Cope and his now seasoned backing band, with drummer J.D. Hassinger in and De Harrison out, surge from strength to strength. Ostensibly conceived as a concept album regarding potential ecological and social collapse, Cope wisely seeks to set moods rather than create a straitjacketed story line. As a result, Peggy Suicide can be enjoyed both as an overall statement and as a collection of individual songs; its sequencing is excellent to boot, moving from song to song as if it was always meant to be that way. Cope's voice is a revelation — for those not having heard the hard-to-find Skellington and Droolian, his conversational asides, bold but not full-of-itself singing, and equally tender, softer takes when the material demands it must have seemed like a complete turnaround from the restrained My Nation Underground cuts. He handles all the guitar as well, with Skinner concentrating on bass and keyboards; guest Michael "Moon-Eye" Watts does some fine fretbending as well, including an amazing performance on the awesome "Safesurfer," a lengthy meditation on AIDS and its consequences. Picking out only some highlights does the album as a whole a disservice, but besides offering up an instant catchy pop single, "Beautiful Love," Cope handles everything from the minimal moods of "Promised Land" and experimentation of "Western Front 1992 CE" to the frenetic "Hanging Out and Hung Up on the Line" and commanding "Drive, She Said." An absolute, stone-cold rock classic, full stop. — Ned Raggett"

"What I wanted was to do the equivalent of a double album with a simple yet provocative production," writes Elliott Murphy in the liner notes to his twelfth record release. Though it appears on a single CD released in Europe and Japan, 12 is the length of an old double LP: 21 tracks in more than 78 minutes. And, like an old double LP, it sprawls, the songs ranging from reminiscences of childhood and Murphy's days as a minor-'70s rock star in New York City, to a brief ditty in which he recites the names of Japanese corporations. There is also plenty of room for Murphy to reflect on his career as a journeyman singer/songwriter. "Some say my songs are long and much too complicated," he sings in "Sicily (Tropic of Separation)," "but they're highly personal / I say they're underrated." They are also under-produced on this record as compared to some of his earlier albums, which gives them a more direct appeal. "I doubt if anyone but me can listen to all of this in one sitting," Murphy writes, and while that may constitute an admission that this album would be better if it were shorter by a third, still it contains some gems. (Originally released outside the U.S. by New Rose in 1990, 12 was released in an abridged, revised, and re-sequenced form under the title Unreal City in the U.S. by Razor & Tie in March 1993.) - William Ruhlmann

The Aeroplanes keep the arty groove going on their follow-up to Swagger, with little specifically changing about them or their general approach. There is one notable difference, namely the departure of John Langley on drums. Replacement Paul Mulreany does a fine enough job, at points offering up some fairly tight (as opposed to stiff) percussion; the band otherwise chugs along as before. Langley's lyrical sense and delivery still does the business, his elaborate wordplay and rich metaphors avoiding preciousness on the one hand and doggerel on the other. Recording the album mostly in L.A. didn't seem to affect them any either; while producer Larry Hirsch doesn't do much different from what Norton did on Swagger, he keeps everything sounding just fine. A running U.K. music press joke at the time had the group appearing à la superheroes in sticky situations and putting on "spontaneous rock & roll concerts" to save the day. It may seem odd, but the sound of the Aeroplanes on Beatsongs, just loose enough on the one hand and excellently performed on the other, actually fits that description rather well. Songs like "My Hurricane," which manages to sound both quite intense and nicely relaxed at the same time, or the surprising but quite successful cover of Paul Simon's "The Boy in the Bubble" add to the overall quality. "Huh" kicks everything off with understated fire, and with Langley in fine vocal form as always. Many other fine high points are the slow, measured, lovely chiming and pace of "Cardboard Box," and "Jack Leaves/Back Spring" and its lovely, rustic atmosphere. Allen once again takes a lead vocal turn at points, on his own upbeat music-resigned lyric confection "Fun" and the enjoyable, sprightly semi-R&B of "Streamers," both times doing the business with style.

(by Ned Raggett , All Music Guide)

The overnight success story of the 1990s, Nirvana's second album and its totemic first single, "Smells Like Teen Spirit," shot up from the Northwest underground -- the nascent grunge scene in Seattle -- to kick Michael Jackson off the top of the Billboard album chart and blow poodle-hair metal off the map. No album in recent history had such an overpowering impact on a generation -- a nation of teens suddenly turned punk -- and such a catastrophic effect on its main creator. The weight of success led already troubled singer-guitarist Kurt Cobain to take his own life in 1994. But his slashing riffs, corrosive singing and deviously oblique writing, rammed home by the Pixies-via-Zeppelin might of bassist Krist Novoselic and drummer Dave Grohl, put the warrior purity back in rock & roll. Lyrically, Cobain raged in code -- shorthand grenades of inner tumult and self-loathing. His genius, though, in songs such as "Lithium," "Breed" and "Teen Spirit" was the soft-loud tension he created between verse and chorus, restraint and assault. Cobain was a pop lover at heart -- and a Beatlemaniac: Nevermind co-producer Butch Vig remembers hearing Cobain play John Lennon's "Julia" at sessions. Cobain also fought to maintain his underground honor. Ultimately, it was a losing battle, but it is part of this album's enduring power. Vig recalls when Cobain was forced to overdub the guitar intro to "Teen Spirit" because he couldn't nail it live with the band: "That pissed him off. He wanted to play [the song] live all the way through." (Rolling Stone)

Total album sales: 7,918,000

Peak chart position: 1

"A fairly nice rock album from the wilds of California, mixing up elements of Creedence Clearwater Revival, Grateful Dead, Los Lobos and more. Rough boogie drums from lady powerhouse Lynn Perko, slurred vocals, bad-mannered blues guitar with the smooth edges blasted away, and a musical bent that goes from folky acoustic ballads to riffing that would make Bo Diddley faint" (Steven McDonald, All Music Guide)

This third release was bound to disappoint fans of the outrageous Stooges/Beefheart-influenced band. The album swung through a wider variety of styles, including Stones-style boogie rock ("Be Myself Again," "Baritone Street," "Circles"), melancholy ballads ("Golden Age," "Can't Slow Down"), and one genuine psychedelic epic ("Coda"). Taken on its own terms, the 1991 outing is a masterpiece of dissolution, disappointment, and loss. Chiming Byrds-style acoustic guitars, tambourines, and piano underscored the evolution toward a cleaner production sound. The band's playing never sounded more assured, although some detractors would claim this was a detrimental point. While lacking the whacked-out intensity of In the Air Tonight, From Influence to Ignorance displayed new maturity in Union Carbide Productions' growth as a recording and performing entity. Additionally, it represented a personal watershed for Ebbot Lundberg as a singer, lyricist, and producer.