In late 1970s Minneapolis, an iconic musical act emerged with both a genre-defying and genre-defining sound, and whose name is synonymous with talent and prestige. This is, of course, Prince. Then there were the Replacements, the definitive “College Rock” band: celebrated by critics, cited as an influence for countless bands, but plagued by drunken antics, self-sabotage, and self-destructing in the goofiest of ways. Before we sober up, here are the Replacements album ranked:
7. Don’t Tell A Soul (1989)
There is a theme of disillusionment in the lyrics, hinting at all the discontentment behind the scenes. Guitarist Bob Stinson was Dave Mustaine’d out for being too drunk by a group of notorious abusers of alcohol. His absence is palatable as the earlier drunken DIY vibes are gone, and the album reeks of “Fine, we’ll do it your way, dick!” The earlier roaring guitars and primal screams are replaced with overproduced pop rock and whispery vocals. The word most associated with The Replacements is “influential” as their style and sound led to the grunge movement. But in terms of the alternative wuss rock of the late ‘90s, “Don’t Tell a Soul” is the blueprint. On it the Replacements crawled so the Goo Goo Dolls could suck.
Play it again: “Anywhere’s Better Than Here”
Skip it: “They’re Blind”
6. All Shook Down (1990)
Legend has it the Replacements formed after Paul Westerberg kept stopping by after hearing the bandmates playing in their garage, and worked his way into the group. With “All Shook Down” Westerberg shoved the rest of the band out. Set to be a solo record, management convinced him to brand it as a Replacements album as an afterthought after recording had started. There are solid tracks on this folky-alternative record, but do not expect anything hardcore, if the band wore leather and spikes, they would be worn down to a nub. This is the album the high school art teacher put on when he’d go to in the yearbook darkroom to smoke weed.
Play it again: “My Little Problem”
Skip it: “All Shook Down”
5. Hootenanny (1983)
The words “mature” and “experimental” are the kiss of death of the sophomore album, but while expanding their playbook, the Replacements cemented their reputation as losers who sing songs about losers. They flirted with country, rockabilly, and surf (thankfully on separate songs) while leveling up their playing, songwriting, and humor. The lyrics included clever, but not cloying wordplay, and there’s a level of infectious alcohol-soaked fun on this album. The Replacements shows had a reputation of being either an elevated experience or a drunken trainwreck, this album captures both. The tighter songs live on as classics, some of the sillier stuff works (“Lovelines”), but others go over as well as a broccoli fart (“Mr. Whirly”). Fuckarounds can be fun, but it reaches a point where you just want Andy Kaufman to do something funny.
Play it again: “Color Me Impressed”
Skip it: “Hootenanny”
4. Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash (1981)
The Replacements were considered “College Rock,” but a more apt genre would be “Music Your Cousin Bill Plays When He Offers to Take You for Ice Cream, but is Really Just Looking for an Excuse to Leave the House to Smoke Cigarettes Rock.” The Replacements were two brothers and two other guys who were fans of British Invasion, folk, and ‘70s arena rock but lacked the skills, found punk, decided that was the road. The result is speedy, snotty punk that comes out a bit like DC Hardcore, from guys who look like extras from “Dazed and Confused.” The tracks are short melodic bursts where the choruses are just the song title repeated twice. A solid debut that cemented their “Lil’ stinker” attitude, they could have toured for years on this alone until they all sue each other for songwriting credit 40 years later.
Play it again: “I’m in Trouble”
Skip it: “Customer”
3. Let It Be (1984)
“Let It Be” is the rare case where too many cooks made a delicious broth. This one has it all– goofpunk (a term I just invented to describe “Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out” and “Gary’s Got A Boner”), a song shitting on Hair Metal followed by a KISS cover. And when NPR produces a podcast series about jangly rock, the opening chords of this album will warrant a two-parter. The rest of the tracks are the best encapsulation of adolescent angst by men in their 20s who don’t have nefarious intentions with children. For other acts, the answering machine became fodder for dopey skits, but they wrote a song about how much they hate answering machines. In 1984. I assume this is what they mean when they say the Replacements were before their time, rather than being grunge before grunge was grunge.
Play it again: “I Will Dare”
Skip it: “We’re Coming Out”
2. Pleased to Meet Me (1987)
On a Replacements album, you could look forward to a mix of hard-driving songs about drinking and soft piano-driven ballads about drunks. They regularly played in two sandboxes of cynicism and emotion, displaying sincerity while pulling the modern edgy podcaster excuse of, “You don’t get it? I was just joking.” This album went straight down the middle—heart-on-your-sleeve lyrics under a facade of a don’t give a fuck attitude, but knowing their reputation of being drunken rapscallions, they took the sloppier songs a bit more seriously, loud and loose but with a bit of studio sheen. Everything about this album is an exercise in contrasts, from the album art to the album title which is why the most recognized track, “Can’t Hardly Wait,” the perfect mix of oil and vinegar, was used on the soundtrack to the movie of the same name and every high school movie since.
Play it again: “Alex Chilton”
Skip it: “I Don’t Know”
1. Tim (1985)
If you’re reading this, you’re obviously old enough to have read print magazines’ rankings of the best albums. “Tim” is always there, confounding record store dicks who claim signing to a major label ruins everything. Not with the Replacements, they’ll put out one of the most critically acclaimed albums of all time, and torpedo themselves. When forced to make videos, they released a single shot of a stereo. They also botched their gigs as a touring support act, and notoriously performed drunk and swore on-mic on Saturday Night Live. If there’s one thing the racist, plagiarizing cokeheads at SNL can’t stand, it’s musicians who drink and swear. The album feels like a night of drinking: getting ready, meeting up with friends at the bar, drinking too much, getting loud, and leaving sad and remorseful. But even with their self-sabotage, the Tommy Ramone-produced album reeks of unreached potential, which is probably why “Bastards of Young” was featured on “The Bear” along with an on-screen monologue about their legacy.
Play it again: “Bastards of Young”
Skip it: “Lay it Down Clown”