Pearl Jam "Ten" [1991]

Did you ever quietly think to yourself (because no 90s rockers would ever acknowledge this at the time) that Seattle's "grunge rock" movement was one giant load of bullshit? Well, the proof is in the "pudding," as they say -- and here you have Exhibit A. "Grunge" was simply arena rock for guys who don't wash their hair, and "Ten" -- from its broad, blatantly recycled riffs to its mannered vocalizations from long-time haircut-boycotter Eddie Vedder -- is its ultimate example. No wonder the music industry got behind bands like Pearl Jam (way to appropriately name yourselves after spooge, though, fellas) so quickly and utterly -- they allowed them to peddle the exact same macho-poseur crapola, cheapened and watered down this time, as they had for the previous two-plus decades. If anything changed, it was that expenses were cut significantly by forgoing the spandex and leather in favor of thrift-store flannel and hiking boots, and by renting places in Seattle for a fraction of what they cost in LA. Perhaps Pearl Jam was really part of a grand scheme to gradually pussify hard-rock fans, who were then softened up further by Dave Matthews Band and then John Mayer a decade later. Even if not, "Ten" is a redundant, obvious, rambling, pretentious wreck of an album by guys who rightly should be playing Foghat covers at the local fair.