So why is Veruca Salt’s American Thighs on this best 1,000 albums ever thing?
For most casual music fans – and add in those who were at least somewhat aware of the pop culture scene back in the mid-‘90s – if Veruca Salt is remembered at all, it’s for their hit single, “Seether.”
“Seether” is a great song for sure, and we’ll get to it shortly, but “All Hail Me,” the second track on American Thighs (and the one just preceding “Seether” in the play order, in fact) is the biggest factor pushing Veruca Salt’s 1994 debut album into the Top 75 of the best 1,000 albums ever.
“All Hail Me” has two modes to it, and both are exceptional. The first is the alt rock guitar assault that plays throughout, but particularly during the verses. It’s a crushing hard rock/alternative rock tour de force that should make Billy Corgan and The Smashing Pumpkins rightly and brightly jealous.
The second mode on “All Hail Me” – again one that runs throughout the song – involves the flat-out gorgeous vocal combination of Nina Gordon and Louise Post. This takes on glorious heights in the chorus.
Okay, fine, you got me: there’s a third mode, really, one that we hear near the end of the chorus and which combines all of the above elements: a sweetly crunchy guitar hook with Gordon and Post singing with ethereal grace above it all, landing on the words that form the song’s title: all hail me.
On to “Seether”: it takes all of the above and refashions it into slightly more pop territory with exceptional execution.
The result was a radio ready alt rocker that popped to number eight on Billboard and received heavy MTV rotation in 1994.
Sidenote to any fellow Gen Xers out there (or cultural Gen Xers in spirit): watch the “Seether” music video if you want a pure dosage of 1994 pop culture spiked into your veins.
I absolutely adore “Get Back,” the lead track on American Thighs, which starts off in a much quieter and more restrained mode versus “All Hail Me” and “Seether,” yet soon builds into a powerful mid-tempo rocker that, to quote Tenacious D, I find quite tasty.
“Celebrate You” plays in similar territory while conjuring a sound that manages to be melancholy and beautiful and deeply pleasing at the same time.
If I was to stop by Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s iconic lounge, The Bronze, back in the day – you know, while passing through Sunnydale or whatever – “Celebrate You” would be a song I could imagine hearing there.
“Fly” is a fabulous number that’s quiet and gentle, proving that Veruca Salt could have been a purely pop/martini lounge act, and a successful one at that, had they wished.
Pop culture stuff that has something to do with Veruca Salt’s American Thighs
I haven’t called out our old pal Stephen Thomas Erlewine in a while, which surely means he’s due. In his four-star review of American Thighs, Stevie boy dropped the following snarky insights:
- Uses the word “surprising” twice in a 130-word review.
- “Thin, singsong vocals”
- Lacks the talent of the Pixies and The Breeders for “inverting pop conventions or taste for the bizarre”
- “Tries hard to inject meaning into the sweet, distorted rush of ‘Seether,’ but all that sticks is the infectious melody and crushing guitars”
- “Spiderman ’79” and “Forsythia” are “too close to The Breeders’ Pod for comfort”
- “…it’s a pure pop album masquerading as the next big thing.”
That’s our boy Stevie: king of the backhanded compliments.
Some stats & info about Veruca Salt – American Thighs
- What kind of musical stylings does this album represent? Rock Music, Alternative Rock, Chicago Bands, Grunge, Hard Rock
- Rolling Stone’s greatest 500 albums ranking – not ranked!
- All Music’s rating – 4 out of 5 stars
- When was American Thighs released? 1994
- My ranking, the one you’re reading right now – #75 out of 1,000
Veruca Salt’s American Thighs on Spotify
A lyrical snippet from Veruca Salt’s American Thighs that’s evocative of the album in some way, maybe
Can’t fight the seether.
What does the “best 1,000 albums ever” mean and why are you doing this?
Yeah, I know it’s audacious, a little crazy (okay, maybe a lot cray cray), bordering on criminal nerdery.
But here’s what it’s NOT: a definitive list of the Greatest Albums of All-Time. This is 100% my own personal super biased, incredibly subjective review of what my top 1,000 albums are, ranked in painstaking order over the course of doing research for nearly a year, Rob from High Fidelity style. Find out more about why I embarked on a best 1,000 albums ever project.