Alice in Chains "Dirt" [1992]

Further proof -- as if any was needed -- that Seattle's grunge movement was nothing more than 80s LA-metal, minus the blow but plus plenty of H, Alice in Chains' "Dirt" articulates the manifestations of these two main stylistic differences between LA and Seattle: they've replaced the high-end screech cokeheads can't hear with deep bass rumblings neighbors two blocks over can't avoid, and traded the studded leather for stinky jeans. Alice in Chains was not the most famous Seattle band -- they barely crack the top ten, actually -- but their sound is a perfect representation of the glum anonymity, near-zero melody and burnout guitar crunch that infected the Pacific Northwest for far too many years a couple decades ago. On "Dirt," they sound like nothing so much as Guns 'n Roses with major self-esteem issues. About the only thing separating these famous nobodies from the pack of other flannel-clad, greasy-haired losers are the perpetual vocal harmonies, as if anyone ever gave a shit about Wishbone Ash. (Who? Exactly.) But you don't have to look at Starbucks Corp.'s insane market cap to understand that if Seattle did anything well, it was the faux-mellow self-promotion of its rainy, geographically inconvenient, un-diverse and near-Canadian ass. Those who bought into the hype eventually realized they'd acquired a polished turd, and when that happens, that's when you get "Dirt" on your hands.