Twenty-five albums is not a lot of records, so rules were necessary: No one artist appears more than once (though shared personnel between records was inevitable), and no reissues-- meaning no Naked Raygun, no Yeah Yeah Yeahs EP, no Bedhead, and no Atomizer, the Big Black release that, were this ranked, could have topped the list. Quaterstick Records is the only subsidiary that was included, as it was started by Rusk and its releases were lovingly worked on by the same staff at Touch and Go.

Necros: Conquest for Death [TGLP02; 1983]
It's not just brown-nosing: Corey Rusk's former group came straight outta Toledo to be one of the sharpest and most timeless early hardcore bands. Subjects ranged from interpersonal relationships and betrayal (you suck) to public high school (it sucks) and the police (they suck) to, finally, self-doubt (I suck). They weren't the hardest or the fastest, but they held their own against their elders like the Meatmen, and could cram more ideas into shorter songs-- the brief instrumental opening in "Search for Fame" feels epic. These were peers of the Teen Idles and played just as hard as Minor Threat; they should be more than a footnote.

 

Butthole Surfers: Locust Abortion Technician [TG19; 1987]
Most of us know why you won't find Touch and Go's label on this record's spine anymore, but that doesn't stop Locust from being a great record. A lumbering psychedelic mess that respects no rules or conventions-- singing, structure, sobriety-- it's better to regret listening to it than to regret not listening to it.

 

 

 

Big Black: Songs About Fucking [TG24; 1987]
It's hardly fair to judge art based on the artist's personality, but Steve Albini-- outspoken, unapologetic, nearly ascetic-- is difficult to separate from the boundaries pushed (of drum machines, guitar tone, and good taste) in Big Black. Maybe, in this case, it's perfectly fair. We need someone unafraid to speak their mind, unafraid to say something ugly, to make music as singularly unloveable and original as this. The viciousness, baiting, and cynicism of Songs About Fucking is a reaction to every placid, politically correct, safe gesture we're bombarded with daily. The iconic front cover image, making the unutterable visually appealing, fits perfectly-- Hollywood and the ad companies can keep making beautiful shit; Big Black made the inverse.

 

Rapeman: Two Nuns and a Pack Mule [TG36; 1988]
Steve Albini couldn't find a drummer for Big Black (read: get anyone to even speak to him for his fanzine-writing notoriety), but by the time of Rapeman, David Sims and Ray Washam of Scratch Acid were willing to move cross-country just to mimic the quasi-indistrial beats that propped up Albini's distincitvely hellish guitar tones. Musically, Rapeman were just as harsh as Big Black, if not sicker and sleeker, but Albini's lyrical provocations ("You plant-eating pussy") seem almost too easy on Two Nuns-- or at least, all in (his idea) of fun. Throw on a cover of "Just Got Paid" and you have a band called fucking Rapeman sounding almost playful; no kidding it was short-lived. They still feel like a side project compared to the members' other bands, albeit being better than most full-time bands of the day.

 

Killdozer: Twelve Point Buck [TG48; 1989]
Of the Touch and Go artists retroactively called "pigfuck" bands, the label fits Killdozer best. From their slow, sludgy take on blues to the grunting of vocalist Michael Gerald, these guys had no problem with sounding ugly. The more musical moments and instrumental flourishes around the corners of Twelve Point Buck reinforce that this is art and not just provocation, even if Gerald's lyrics are often laugh-out-loud funny. This record shows a clearer, more concise Killdozer, and it just happens that their best introductory point is arguably them at their most potent.

 

Slint: Spiderland [TG64; 1991]
You try to say something new about Spiderland.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Jesus Lizard: Goat [TG68; 1991]
Man, picking between this and Liar was like cutting off a finger-- a good finger-- rolling over tacks, chewing charcoal, pulling a hangnail down my second knuckle, blowdrying my wide-open eyes, rubbing salt into a cold sore, snorting shards of glass, and maybe getting bottled from across a bar, laying down for a minute, and then complimenting the bottler's accuracy. The guitars do it for me in the end; "Rub it on me, Duane," indeed.

 

 

Scratch Acid: The Greatest Gift [TG76; 1991]
A lot of the love for Scratch Acid is from lineage, as they featured future Rapeman and Jesus Lizard members. Admittedly, it's worth a listen just to hear the missing link between the archness of Birthday Party and the blues-pillaging terror of Jesus Lizard, but the product is somehow artier yet more cacophonous than both acts at once. Of course, the same lyrical preoccupations and uncorked vocals are here, but don't expect the tightness of TJL-- drummer Ray Washam was often the only thing holding these acid-drenched art tracks together.

 

Negative Approach: Total Recall [TG78; 1991]
Though hardcore's beginnings had more to do with the two coasts, Negative Approach took hold of it while living in Detroit and ended up being highly influential in their own right. Influential doesn't necessarily equal great listening, but the under-one-minute songs, bleak cynicism, and fast 'n blunt attack holds up well, and they're worth hearing for John Brannon's consistently strangled vocals. Total Recall compiles all of their Touch & Go material plus a smattering of terribly-recorded live tracks, but hardcore fans are nothing if not completists.

 

Girls Against Boys: Venus Luxure No. 1 Baby [TG117; 1993]
As an indie-rock rube in the halcyon days of 1993, there was inscrutable mystery in hearing GvsB idly hammering on that single open note in the first track. "If you like that, you're gonna love this," Scott McCloud muttered, indiscernible between a come-on and a threat. Love what? What did I like to begin with? What the hell was I hearing? Now, the mystery is how some minor players from D.C. delivered such a fantastic record as if it dropped from the sky (especially if you'd heard their confused debut, Tropic of Scorpio). Two bassists and one guitar made for suggestive, suffocating low-end that was never quite "sexy," as the press would claim, but more a series of nebulous squeals and thuds that made a great soundtrack for fast driving and bad decisions. Geffen snatched them up (and promptly dropped them) two albums later with strong reason; Venus Lux was a surprisingly accessible entry-point to underground rock, and for that reason stands ably next to the Jesus Lizard and other flagship artists from Touch and Go.

 

Shellac: At Action Park [TG141; 1994]
Compared to Albini's former projects, Shellac is subtle; compared to anyone else, they're like a ride down Michigan Ave. in a tank. Still, recruiting Bob Weston on bass and allowed to indulge their inner engineers, Shellac make taut, economic hard rock that's twice as better recorded and twice as evil-sounding for it. With elaborate vinyl packaging, guitars that sound like springs bursting through tinfoil, and a rhythm section that causes contusions on children and small pets, I just hope Shellac's output doesn't slow to a stop. They're one of the last truly uncompromising rock bands.

 

Rodan: Rusty [QS24; 1994]
The seeds of June of 44, and certainly math-rock in general, are obvious on Rodan's sole LP-- as well as the influence of Slint. Call me a sucker for falling for the record's more pastoral moods, busier and prettier guitar passages, more earnest (and aggressive) rock-outs, and all the spots where their ambition is naked. It has the complex, stop on a dime, awkward time-signature songs, but it also overflows with ideas, and manages the same overwhelming drama without being so calculated in its catharsis. It's not the only debut that does, but it's one of the few that makes them all work seamlessly, and help to found a mini-genre.

 

Brainiac: Hissing Prigs in Static Couture [TG155; 1995]
This is essentially Bonsai Superstar pt 2, but that doesn't make it any less essential. How many punk-rock bands fucked with samplers and keyboards? How many stole from Nation of Ulysses and Devo? How many more bands will be labeled as "Brainiac-influenced" any time a guy chooses to scream like Prince with a broken heel? Far more galvanizing an influence on the underground than anyone could have surmised, and yet none of their acolytes try half as hard.

 

 

Dirty Three: Horse Stories [TG165; 1996]
Don't call them rustic-- the violin/guitar/drums band writes melodies too ingratiating for ambiance and kick up far too much dust for slowcore, thanks to drummer Jim White. Warren Ellis was the violinist and de facto leader, but each band member steps up to become the lead voice of a song at some point, falling in and out of the role seamlessly. Violin or no, the only "classical" thing about them was their respect for theme and variation, as they take a few familiar notes and twist them back and forth from stunning soundtrack pieces to fierce meltdowns. Horse Stories affirmed them as one of Touch and Go's most visceral instrumental acts (and that's a crowded playing field).

 

Don Caballero: What Burns Never Returns [TG185; 1998]
In direct contrast with the riff-mongers and freak-outers on the rest of the Touch and Go roster, Don Caballero brought something unheard of to the Midwestern underground: taste. What Burns Never Returns is the alpha and omega of instrumental rock, where jaw-dropping skill meets refined improvisation and masterful tension and release-- not to mention it's the hardest and heaviest of their records. These guys are responsible for untold scads of noodling, beard-tugging math rock, and tepid instrumental acts, but every spin of this record brings a sigh of forgiveness.

 

The Ex: Starters Alternators [TG198; 1998]
An album as vital as any other in the band's catalog, their first for Touch and Go and first with Albini behind the boards (a match so natural it's hard to believe no one thought of it 'til then). The Ex and T&G developed careers almost in tandem, one in America and one in the Netherlands, both beginning with nascent filth-punk and slowly, stubbornly making their own way in the business (the Ex were self-releasing just before this album) and finding their own unusual rhythms. Ex songs build not from verses and choruses but truncated chunks of melody, building and releasing tension in a way few other rock bands do or try.

 

June of 44: Four Great Points [QS54; 1998]
With no disrespect to their earlier material, which helped to spearhead the more cerebral material Rusk was hoping for with his Quarterstick imprint, putting on Four Great Points for the first time was like coming home from college to find a formerly trenchoated, pyromaniac friend employed as an investment banker and engaged to a dog groomer. Even its most abrasive moments like "Cut Your Face" betray a steadiness that only comes with maturity, and the experimental diversions like "Lifted Bells" are balanced well with rigid moments like "Of Information and Belief".

 

Silkworm: Lifestyle [TG209; 2000]
Bands who stay consistent over a decade without much drama are a hard sell, especially one with the only-half-winking classic-rock nods of Silkworm. If you'll excuse my rose-colored glasses, it's almost too fitting to the record's wistful overtones that it didn't break out. With a similar end-of-summer feel to Pavement's Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (and a pedigree that runs just as deep; check their Small Faces cover), there's no telling why it's overlooked, but a bittersweet hidden gem hits hard when all that's left is hindsight.

 

For Carnation: For Carnation [TG214; 2000]
Far less cathartic (and popular) than Brian McMahan's former band, Slint, the For Carnation was no less dark. They were just quieter about it, and probably more creepy for it. Their first for Touch and Go and final overall album, the self-titled is too paranoid to raise the volume outside of a few creaks and groans from the backup band, as McMahan flexes his whisper over the smothering bass, sustaining tension to an incredible degree and never letting out a breath.

 

 

Nina Nastasia: Blackened Air [TG231; 2002]
Touch and Go was already a very different, more diverse label when Nina Nastasia released Dogs, her debut (which T&G would later reiussue). Her second record, Blackened Air, sounds nail-bitingly fragile, all of its swooning and open space teetering on the ledge but never tipping. "In the Graveyard" is proof enough that she can belt it out, but Nastasia prefers her whispery lower registers to gently color these songs rather than command them. Good thing her restrained voice is still so gorgeous it hurts, like biting into ice cream with your front teeth. But that voice, the drums, the strings all burst forth at the most unexpected moments, and even with its lethargic non-pace, Blackened Air manages something rare: a folk record where you don't know what's coming next.

 

 

Enon: High Society [TG235; 2002]
They'll make sharper, weirder records than this, but I doubt Enon will crank out anything as consistent as High Society-- a record that combines blustery album rock with woozy Kinks-like hooks and just a bit of the mechanical creep of John Schmersal's former band Brainiac. Schmersal splits vocals with new addition Toko Yasuda on everything from electro to lounge-pop, using and tossing aside genres like condom wrappers. It's not the first pop album to speak to the disillusionment and decay of pop (just check the titles alone: "Sold!", "Disposable Parts", "Window Display", "Leave It to Rust"), but it's one of the last made before the lines between pop and indie-rock blurred indelibly and Touch and Go started signing disco bands from members of El Guapo. Plus, it's a great party record.

 

Pinback: Summer in Abaddon [TG237; 2004]
Pinback are another late-career add for Touch and Go that could only have come late in both the band's and label's trajectory; the Offcell EP and this accomplished LP bridge the gap between the cerebral math-rock of Quarterstick with the more melodic listener-friendly indie of late T&G. It comes together perfectly on the effortlessly smooth "Fortress", possibly Pinback's best single, but it's all over the clenched-anus approach to melody they take on Summer in Abbadon, holding back any moment of release until the very last track and adding the barest and most essential riffs when necessary.

 

!!!: Me and Guiliani Down by the Schoolyard [TG247; 2003]
I've often wondered where T&G's focus on Brooklyn in the early aughts came from, but I bought Corey Rusk's "I just sign what I like" line so wholeheartedly, bands like !!! must have caught his ear at the right time. If there was any meaningful correlation between the words "Brooklyn," "dance," and "punk," this single was at the crest of it; if we ever needed it, we needed it then and we needed ten minutes of it. Though the imitators were just steps away, none would fold in every name-checking influence so artfully, or throw in lyrics to throwaways like "Footloose" without sounding calculated. !!! continue to make better, more tasteful records than I'd ever thought possible of them, but you only get so many chances to plant flags like they did here.

 

TV on the Radio: Young Liars EP [TG252; 2003]
A return to the incredibly cool stand-alone EP from the label that brought you the incredibly cool stand-alone EP. Young Liars is a watershed the band has strained to reach ever since they recorded this before even becoming a "real" band. While Cookie Mountain is a triumph and the crooked curves of Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes get more familiar and comfortable with time, this was a bold affirmation of talent-- whose debut sounds this stunning and layered?-- and another out-of-nowhere revelation among many in the label's catalog. Not the first, but one of the most noteworthy on T&G to coax new emotion from old machines, this time harvesting understated grace instead of aggression.

 

Calexico: Feast of Wire [QS278; 2003]
Cohesive albums are way overrated. Feast of Wire is the only proof you need, a defiant slow sprawl down a desert sunset highway between the southwest U.S. and Southern America, making every stop along on the way. Later Calexico albums would boast transitions and strong songwriting and similar shit, but Feast played every card the band had and still stands tall because of it. Few bands earn the descriptor "cinematic"; Touch and Go has let several bands find their way there at their own pace.