Hello! 😊👋
Welcome to a new edition of the Best Music of All Time newsletter!
Today’s music pick commemorates the 30th anniversary of one of the best rock albums of the 90s.
Genre: Rock, Alternative, Grunge
Label: A&M
Release Date: March 8, 1994
Vibe: 🤘
Released just as grunge was hitting its mainstream sell-by date, Superunknown flies under the radar as arguably the best rock album to come out of the first half of the 1990s. LPs like Nevermind and Ten may have more pop culture nostalgia cache. Still, Soundgarden’s fifth studio release trumps those and other hard rock mainstays of that era in scope, ambition, and execution. For a record that’s over 70 minutes long, there’s never a moment that drags or feels like pandering to a growing fan base. Instead, the band’s appetite for risk-taking and how they make solid contact on every big swing was what bash me over on a fresh listen for this post. In that sense, it reminded me a lot of Physical Graffiti, another classic that often flies under the radar on many “best of” lists. The sonic layering at work here, coupled with effects usage that’s as widespread as it is precise, creates a jaw-dropping psychedelic landscape that holds your hand as it pushes you further and further down the rabbit hole.
At this point in my album write-ups, I usually highlight a few standout tracks and performances—a task that’s a tall order here. Everyone in Soundgarden turns in such exceptional work that it’s difficult for me to put one ahead of another in any respect. You could successfully argue this is Kim Thayil’s record, with songs like “4th of July,” “Limo Wreck,” and the biggest hit of the release, “Black Hole Sun,” built on sturdy, beefy riffs and dense soloing. Maybe the album’s best moments belong to bassist Ben Shepherd’s contributions to “Head Down” and “Half.” Or, perhaps better still, there’s Matt Cameron’s drumming, which keeps every other sonic element from spinning out of control while coming to the forefront with left-field grooves like “Spoonman.” If this were a zone for letter grades (ugh), those performances would receive straight As.
And yet, I say all this, and it’s hard for one’s mind not to return to the late Chris Cornell as the figure who looms largest on Superunknown. His lyrics, full of steely brilliance, grapple with impending doom and the darkest human impulses. There are at least a half-dozen genuinely spellbinding moments, such as the vivid opening of “Let Me Down” (”Stretch the bones over my skin/Stretch the skin over my hand”). His voice, floating above each track like the Angel of Death, made him a once-in-a-generation talent that’s still instantly recognizable and sorely missed.
It goes without saying that they (i.e., gutless labels more concerned with streaming playlist banalities) don’t make rock records like this anymore, and the genre is worse off as a result.
👉 Don’t forget to click the album image to stream the album on your favorite platform 👈