The indie label that gave birth to grunge is a very different beast in 2008. Lloyd Gedye explores its roster.
Twenty years ago an indie label birthed a scene that shook the mainstream rock world to its core. Yes, it was 20 years ago that the first rumblings emerged from the Seattle scene (called Grunge) and was introduced to the mainstream via breakthrough act Nirvana.
At the centre of this movement was independent label Sub Pop, whose championing of bands such as Green River, Soundgarden, Screaming Trees, Mudhoney and Kurt Cobain’s seminal punk band was the driving force behind the resurgence in alternative rock in the early 1990s.
Taking their cue from ground-breaking labels such as Tony Wilson’s Factory Records and the Motown and Stax success stories, Bruce Pavitt and Jonathan Poneman began releasing records in the late 1980s, marketing their label’s brand as much as the alternative rock scene of Seattle.
By packaging the burgeoning Seattle rock circuit on one independent label, they presented the media with an already formed scene, which duly burgeoned as the press swallowed it whole. All of a sudden long hair, torn jeans and flannelette shirts were all the rage.
But in 2008, after numerous close calls that almost saw the label bite the dust, Sub Pop is an entirely different beast.
A host of unexpected success stories with indie rock stars such as The Postal Service and The Shins means Sub Pop has left its old slogan “Going out of business since 1988” behind.
While a reformed Mudhoney and grunge veterans Mark Lanegan and Greg Dulli, who front The Gutter Twins, still release albums on Sub Pop, the money-spinners that keep the label afloat are a younger generation of indie rockers.
Nowadays it is the Americana-styled Iron & Wine, Band of Horses, Comets on Fire and Fleet Foxes alongside comedy acts, such as David Cross and Flight of the Conchords, that the label is most famous for.
Saturnalia
The Gutter Twins
The Gutter Twins are Mark Lanegan (Screaming Trees) and Greg Dulli (Afghan Whigs), both grunge veterans of Sub Pop’s early 1990s heyday. Their new project, which Dulli describes as “the satanic Everly Brothers”, is a dark gripping tour de force that takes in stoner rock, gothic soul, sinister blues and touches of electronica. It was Oscar Wilde who said “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” Welcome to the narcotic post-millennium blues of the Gutter Twins.
At Mount Zoomer
Wolf Parade
As the Arcade Fire kicked down the door for the Montreal indie scene, Wolf Parade were first to charge through with their 2005 debut Apologies to the Queen Mary. Although band leaders Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner have gone on to launch successful side-projects in the last couple of years, 2008’s At Mount Zoomer has been eagerly awaited and with good reason. An amazing album that splinters into a million directions but somehow still holds itself together in a precarious state of cohesion.
Fleet Foxes
Fleet Foxes
Raised on a healthy diet of The Beach Boys, Simon & Garfunkel, Steely Dan, The Band and Crosby, Stills and Nash, it is no wonder that Robin Pecknold and co sound like they do. The five-piece outfit from Seattle describe their music as “baroque harmonic pop jams”, which is sort of accurate but doesn’t portray their love of what Greil Marcus terms “the old, weird America”. Roots-rock, dripping with golden sunsets, damp woods and spirituality. If you like My Morning Jacket or Band of Horses this band is for you.
Nouns
No Age
No Age are the noisy upstarts of the new Sub Pop generation, blending the experimentation of Sonic Youth, the wall of sound of My Bloody Valentine and the pop-punk hooks of Nirvana and Weezer into a DIY manifesto. Hailing from a Los Angeles vegan art collective called Smell, Dean Spunt and Randy Randall’s debut album is full of promise for those who are into punk layered with noisy industrial samples and ambient soundscapes.
The Lucky Ones
Mudhoney
Mudhoney are back and they have delivered the album The Stooges should have released in 2007 instead of The Weirdness. These Sub Pop veterans sound invigorated and ready to rumble with their garage-rock mayhem. “The past makes no sense, the future looks tense,” screams Mark Arm on opener I’m now and who could doubt a man with so much conviction. Primal rock’n’roll at its best.