The 80 Best Albums of the 1980s
Page 7 of 8
The 1980s might conjure up images of leg warmers, parachute pants, moonwalking, Flock of Seagulls haircuts and any number of John Hughes movies. But looking back at the decade’s best albums, those years were extremely diverse. They saw the last vestiges of a vibrant punk scene and the beginnings of post-punk and New Wave; the rise of hip-hop and an explosion of great college radio; the brief ascension of rootsy singer/songwriters to mainstream country stardom; and the establishment of some almost-universally beloved pop stars. Today we celebrate our favorite albums that arose from the ’80s. There’s a little bit of rap, folk, country, jazz, pop and a lot of rock ’n’ roll in its various incarnations. Here are the 80 best albums of the 1980s.
20. AC/DC – Back in Black
AC/DC almost never recorded Back in Black. It ultimately became a tribute album to their former lead singer, Bon Scott, after he died unexpectedly. From the all-black cover to the title song, Back in Black is non-stop hard rock without the glam. It’s the highest selling album in the ’80s from a band and continues to expose new generations to the harder classic rock music that has since gone by the wayside.—Adam Vitcavage
19. The Pixies – Surfer Rosa (1988)
Because I was seven and not nearly cool enough a seven-year-old to be aware of it when it came out, I backed into the Pixies’ debut after an obsessively on-repeat month of listening to Doolittle. When I finally decided to expand my experience of the Pixies I figured their first album was as good a place as any to start my planned completion of the oeuvre. On Surfer Rosa producer Steve Albini captures a blend of exuberant rock and noisy pop that is true to everything The Pixies are when they are at their best. “Where is My Mind?” may be the only song non-fans know because of its association in the collective consciousness of my generation with a scene from Fight Club, but it’s the kind of song anyone who hears it can’t help but dig.—Jeff Gonick
18. De La Soul – Three Feet High and Rising (1989)
Here’s high praise for De La Soul’s 1989 debut: It’s one of the only hip-hop albums in history whose skits are as good as the music. Even 23 years later, who skips over those head-scratching interstitials about rudimentary French, unintelligible game shows, Ludens cough drops, and the silliest orgy ever committed to tape? Singles like “Me Myself & I” and “Potholes in My Lawn” were groundbreaking on MTV and radio, but Three Feet High and Rising works best as an whole album, one that samples liberally (Johnny Cash, Hall & Oates, Steely Dan) and explores every corner of the Long Island trio’s D.A.I.S.Y. Age philosophy. There’s something fearless in the way De La rethink rap radicalism as hippie nirvana: playful, lackadaisical, wryly digressive and deeply hilarious.—Stephen M. Deusner
17. Violent Femmes – Violent Femmes (1983)
Quite simply ,the Violent Femmes’ self-titled album was the quintessential hymnal for the disaffected youth of America in the ’80s. With its jangly folk-punk frustration and venom-spitting lyrics, the debut featured “Blister in The Sun,” “Kiss Off” and “Add it Up,” arguably the three best Anthems of the proudly maladjusted ever penned. Nothing sounded like it before and nothing has since captured the sublime and perverse joy of teenage angst and adolescent anarchy like the Violent Femmes. In fact, just listening to “Add it Up” has been known to cause acne, awkward haircuts and ripped jeans.—Jay Sweet
16. The Cure – Disintegration (1989)
Disintegration is a return to goth glory after The Cure’s foray into pop with 1987’s Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me. It’s lush, mournful and gorgeous—in other words, it’s Robert Smith and company at their very best. From the first notes of “Plainsong” to the somber romance of “Lovesong” and the sweeping “Fascination Street,” the album is emotional but never overwrought. Smith surpasses hokey teen angst, instead creating a lasting work that’s entirely relatable.—Bonnie Stiernberg
15. Tom Waits – Rain Dogs (1985)
Jettisoning his old label, his old manager and his old methods of recording, Tom Waits reinvented himself in the early 1980s, morphing from a singer/songwriter with a romantic view of L.A.’s underbelly to the gruff rabble-rouser we know and love today. swordfishtrombones may have introduced Tom Waits 2.0, but his follow-up, Rain Dogs, is arguably the better album, drawing out the weirdness of his lyrics and the clatter of his music. The music rambles and the lyrics paint dark portraits of Gun St. girls and one-eyed dwarves, but Waits never lets the sound eclipse the actual songs. In fact, Rain Dogs is packed with some of his finest tunes, from the conspiratorial “Clap Hands” to the heartbreaker “Downtown Train,” which was strong enough to survive Rod Stewart’s manhandling.—Stephen M. Deusner
14. The Replacements – Let It Be (1984)
The Replacements gained attention for their snotty, don’t-give-a-shit attitude: playing shows blind drunk, writing songs called “Fuck School,” stealing titles of hallowed classic rock albums. But on Let It Be the Minneapolis punks made an album that could shoot down any outrage from incredulous Beatles fans. The 11 songs here proved that Paul Westerberg and company weren’t just drunk screw-ups. They were drunk screw-ups with soul. Let It Be has plenty of steal-your-sixpack swagger (“We’re Coming Out,”) but it also showed that Westerberg had developed into a devastatingly acute songwriter. “Answering Machine” and “Unsatisfied,” are two of the finest odes to youthful alienation ever penned. Any Liverpool group would have been proud to call them their own.—Michael Tedder
13. Beastie Boys – Paul’s Boutique (1989)
Paul’s Boutique changed the game of rap music forever. The trio’s heavy use of sampling and name-dropping soon became industry standard. The Beasties’ lyrics are witty, explosive and explored an array of topics few rappers had touched before them and even fewer since. While many of the samples are from popular artists like The Beatles and The Ramones, there are hundreds of lesser-known riffs that helped make the producers (L.A.-based Dust Brothers) sampling superstars. The album’s sonic backbone alters drastically from beginning to end, proving the range of this enduring trio of rappers.—Adam Vitcavage
12. Public Enemy – It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (1988)
With its 1988 sophomore album, Public Enemy rethought hip-hop from the bass up, conceiving it not only as an extension of the black power movement but, more crucially, as the logical conclusion of every popular music form that came before. The group’s legendary production team, fittingly called the Bomb Squad, plumbed rock and funk history for useful loops and fragments to soundtrack their movement, twisting hits by James Brown, Rufus Thomas and even Queen into radical anthems about race, politics, the media and anything else in Chuck D’s crosshairs. On Nation of Millions, he steps up as rap’s most authoritative voice, delivering stinging lyrics with newfound confidence. Likewise, Flavor Flav steps up as rap’s greatest rodeo clown, striking a potent balance between humor and outrage. The album has only gained more power since its release, both as a document of its time and as a reminder of hip-hop’s limitless possibilities.—Stephen M. Deusner
11. Sonic Youth – Daydream Nation (1988)
When Nancy Reagan was urging kids to just say no, Sonic Youth promoted just the opposite: “Your life is such a mess,” says Thurston Moore. “Forget the past and just say yes.” On the band’s best album, that actually sounds like good advice, if only because detuned guitars and sprawling noise jams make for a better platform than abstinence and trickle-down economics. Opener “Teenage Riot” installs J Mascis in the Oval Office, and “The Sprawl” cops lyrics from crack addicts out-populating rats in Manhattan. It’s the culmination of the city’s noise scene and of the band’s flirtations with pop, but damned if Daydream Nation doesn’t predict the rise of Guiliani and grunge both—a cleaner city and a dirtier rock.—Stephen M. Deusner

