Best 90s Albums: 30 Essential Records That Defined The Decade

29: Roni Size / Reprazent: ‘New Forms’ (1997)

Electronic group Roni Size / Reprazent are one of Bristol’s finest musical exports, often held in the same regard as their contemporaries Massive Attack and Portishead – also responsible for some of the best 90s albums. The multicultural roots of the city are well-developed in the group’s debut album, touching on dub and Caribbean elements that infiltrated the Bristol scene in the 60s and 70s. Be it the hot-footed groove on Brown Paper Bag or the sun-soaked bass on Heroes, New Forms sits both as a starry-eyed sunset to acid house’s heyday and as a forward-looking opus, optimistic in its desire for the future amalgamations of drum’n’bass, garage and grime.

Must hear: Brown Paper Bag

28: Daft Punk: ‘Homework’ (1997)

Before the digital era, foreign artists faced an extra challenge. The novelty of non-English performers (and, particularly, European artists) is a double-edged sword – one that can bring fame and fortune, but sometimes at the cost of a largely ignored discography. Thankfully, Daft Punk’s debut album, Homework, is a widely appreciated record and stands as the genesis of the legendary duo’s journey leading up to their finest hour: the jaw-dropping 2006 Coachella performance which saw EDM’s popularity in the US skyrocket. Where countless other artists tried and failed to bring their own experiences to the daunting world of electronica, Daft Punk shaped their own sound entirely, forcing a wave of ravers into the new millennium thanks to their infectious and intoxicating debut.

Must hear: Around The World

27: Stone Temple Pilots: ‘Purple’ (1994)

A cornerstone of the 90s alternative-rock movement, Stone Temple Pilots’ 1994 album, Purple, masterfully combined grunge’s raw intensity with melodic sensibilities. From the haunting opening track, Meatplow, to the anthemic Interstate Love Song, Scott Weiland’s versatile vocals lead the way, effortlessly shifting from gritty growls to soulful croons. The rhythm section, with Robert DeLeo’s thunderous basslines and Eric Kretz’s precise drumming, forms an unshakeable foundation, while Brendan O’Brien’s production strikes the perfect balance between raw energy and polished precision. Debuting at No.1 on the US Billboard 200 and eventually going on to achieve multi-platinum status, Purple made an undeniable impact on the 90s music landscape and more than earns its place on this list of the best 90s albums.

Must hear: Interstate Love Song

26: Rage Against The Machine: ‘Evil Empire’ (1996)

The infamous cover image of Buddhist monk Thích Quảng Đức committing self-immolation on Rage Against The Machine’s debut is one of the 90s’ signature snapshots, but it’s the group’s second release that embodies the band’s fighting spirit and earns its place among the best albums of the 90s. Evil Empire exemplifies Rage Against The Machine at their most dangerous; where the first album provided unbridled angst, the follow-up saw the band centred, clever and suitably pissed off. Peeking behind Mel Ramos’s Crimebuster on the sleeve are eleven tracks of hitherto unseen bounds of rap-rock – be it frontman Zach de la Rocha’s ferocity on Tire Me, his unnerving restraint on Revolver, or Tom Morello’s spine-shattering riffs across Tim Commerford’s gut-busting basslines. That’s not an insult to drummer Brad Wilk: he’s responsible for Rage’s zero-to-100 tendencies in a flash.

Must hear: Revolver

25: Red Hot Chili Peppers: ‘Blood Sugar Sex Magik’ (1991)

Produced by the sonic mastermind Rick Rubin, Blood Sugar Sex Magik, the fifth album by Red Hot Chili Peppers, set in motion a seismic shift in alternative rock. Boasting an eclectic array of genres and bringing frontman Anthony Kiedis’ rap-inspired verbosity to the fore, the album included some of the best 90s songs, including the breakout MTV hits Give It Away and Under The Bridge, which became instant classics thanks to Flea’s gleefully gyrating basslines John Frusciante’s angular guitar riffs, which oozed with playfulness and fun. By championing a new breed of alt-rock that mixed funk with an almost punky attitude, Blood Sugar Sex Magik has cemented its status as a 90s essential, raising the bar for the best Red Hot Chili Peppers songs and firmly establishing the group as one of the biggest bands of the decade.

Must hear: Give It Away

24: Mazzy Star: ‘So Tonight That I Might See’ (1993)

Mazzy Star’s finest moment is Fade Into You, the opener to their 1993 album. A time-stopping track, it finds the ever-elusive Hope Sandoval drawling perfectly over a simple guitar melody, seemingly against the grain of the loud-quiet-loud notions of the time. The best example of their ability to freeze everything in an instant is their performance of the song live at Shoreline Amphitheatre, just a year after release, with a lackadaisical Sandoval appearing a million miles away in the huge venue, yet simultaneously commanding the full attention of thousands. While it’s tough to get past the strength of the opener, there are rewards to be had further on So Tonight That I Might See, namely the shoegaze-esque Bells Ring and the bluesy Wasted, which precedes Into Dust’s gorgeously ethereal and space-like vein.

Must hear: Fade Into You

23: Green Day: ‘Dookie’ (1994)

Bursting onto the scene with irreverent energy, Green Day’s 1994 album, Dookie, catapulted the band to international fame and left a lasting impression as a pop-punk tour de force that truly defined the 90s. The album’s youthful, Buzzcocks-esque melodies and Billie Joe Armstrong’s angst-ridden lyrics resonated with a generation seeking a new voice in the afterglow of grunge, particularly following the untimely loss of Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain, who died just two months after Dookie was released. Picking up the baton from Cobain and co, songs such as Basket Case and When I Come Around were much-loved blasts of teenage angst and rebellion, leaping out from FM radio stations thanks to Mike Dirnt’s nimble bass work and Tré Cool’s dynamic drumming. Letting many of the best Green Day songs loose on the world, Dookie was a disruptor that paved the way for later acts such as blink-182 and Sum 41 to go mainstream, reviving punk’s popularity and ushering in a new era of alternative rock.

Must hear: Basket Case

22: Oasis: ‘(What’s The Story) Morning Glory?’ (1995)

The Blur versus Oasis argument was essentially created to sell papers. It worked. The Britpop craze saw many fierce fanatics picking up NME and Melody Maker, desperate for the next interview from the Gallagher brothers or Damon Albarn’s arty pop-rock heroes. But there are two weapons in Oasis’ arsenal that can see the opposition sent home early: the two 1996 Knebworth gigs, held in front of a combined 250,000 people, and (What’s The Story) Morning Glory?, the album that defined a generation of the hopeless-turned-optimistic thanks to council-estate blokes simply being themselves. Oasis’ second album has it all: Don’t Look Back In Anger, Champagne Supernova, Wonderwall and Some Might Say all show off Noel Gallagher’s exceptional songwriting talents; the rest of the album takes shape around the singles to encapsulate 90s Britain in a nutshell: audacious, happy-go-lucky and so totally mad fer it.

Must hear: Don’t Look Back In Anger

21: Aaliyah: ‘One In A Million’ (1996)

A groundbreaking record in every sense of the word, Aaliyah’s 1996 album, One In A Million, set the blueprint for a generation of contemporary female R&B vocalists and late-90s girl groups. With its innovative production, futuristic beats and Aaliyah’s silky-smooth vocals, the album transcended its time by introducing a fresh sound that would remain in vogue into the new millennium and beyond. Equipped with Timbaland’s forward-thinking approach to beat-making, One In A Million did wonders in mapping out the R&B landscape of the era, charting out a new direction for the best 90s female singers to follow, thanks to such game-changing tracks as If Your Girl Only Knew. By blending sensuality with messages of empowerment, Aaliyah’s sultry yet understated voice continues to make its influence felt, confirming One In A Million as a true touchstone among the best 90s albums.

Must hear: If Your Girl Only Knew

20: Third Eye Blind: ‘Third Eye Blind’ (1997)

Dominating the airwaves and capturing the spirit of the times, Third Eye Blind’s self-titled debut album, from 1997, is a quintessential piece of 90s alt-rock. Blending Stephan Jenkins’ introspective lyricism with Kevin Cadogan’s power-pop guitar hooks, US Top 10 hits such as Semi-Charmed Life and Jumper quickly captured the zeitgeist, shifting effortlessly from anthemic rock with catchy choruses to introspective ballads and proving that guitar music could be just as radio-friendly as the polished hip-hop and R&B then coming out of Puff Daddy’s chart-straddling Bad Boy Records. With a fearless lyrical approach that would go on to influence everybody from alt-rock merrymakers Smash Mouth to emo barnstormers Jimmy Eat World, the album, which still features many of the best Third Eye Blind songs[], remains just as influential as ever, and is more than deserving of a spot on any list of the best 90s albums.

Must hear: Semi-Charmed Life

19: Madonna: ‘Ray Of Light’ (1998)

Like other pop giants (David Bowie, Prince), Madonna goes through phases that pin down her sound and style in different times, be it her provocativeness during the Like A Virgin era or her sexual liberation through alter ego Mistress Dita, around the Erotica album. With Ray Of Light, Madge took a U-turn to focus on spirituality and the positives of various religious practices, from Jewish mysticism to Ashtanga yoga. The album embodies these themes beautifully: the title track, crystal clear and optimistic, pushes the notion of a free spirit, and Sky Fits Heaven fuses electrifying techno with carefully arranged keys to soar with intent.

Must hear: Ray Of Light

18: Blur: ‘Parklife’ (1994)

Blur’s biggest album isn’t necessarily their strongest, but one thing’s for certain, this is the closest they ever came to rivalling the magnitude of Oasis, creating a record that spoke to millions of British daydreamers. Along with Suede’s Dog Man Star and Pulp’s His ’N’ Hers, Parklife became an essential cog in the Cool Britannia machine, most obviously through monumental songs like Girls & Boys, To The End and the title track. If there’s one thing that summons 90s Britain, it’s the image of Phil Daniels performing his lines for the latter from within his car, driving through the neo-psychedelic streets of an (untypically) sunny England.

Must hear: Girls & Boys

17: Tori Amos: ‘Little Earthquakes’ (1992)

Solidifying her status as a leading voice in alternative music, Tori Amos’ 1992 album, Little Earthquakes, was an earth-shattering collection of introspective songwriting that set the pace for the best Tori Amos albums to follow. With haunting piano compositions and emotionally charged vocals, Amos poignantly navigates themes of love, loss and self-discovery, particularly on songs such as Silent All These Years and Winter; though every track, each of which could stake a claim to being one of the best Tori Amos songs, showcases her extraordinary musical talent with honesty and vulnerability. Lyrically, Amos’ fearless approach to taboo subjects challenged norms and carved a path for female singer-songwriters to follow, ensuring that the legacy of Little Earthquakes continued to reverberate throughout much of the decade. A seminal release among the best 90s albums.

Must hear: Winter

16: PJ Harvey: ‘Rid Of Me’ (1993)

Painfully honest, unashamed of stigmas and determined in its contorted compositions, Rid Of Me shows off the vulnerable and unabashed side of the seven-time Grammy nominee PJ Harvey. Harvey’s growls of “Lick my legs, I’m on fire”, on the title track, are painted straight from heart to canvas, as are the almost desperate calls of “Rest your head on me/I’ll smooth it nicely” on Rub ’Til It Bleeds. Celebrated for its loud-quiet-loud production, courtesy of Steve Albini, Rid Of Me is an unyielding album adopted by both the feministically inclined and grungers looking for the best use of distortion since Mudhoney.

Must hear: Rid Of Me

15: DJ Shadow: ‘Endtroducing…..’ (1996)

In short, Endtroducing… stands among the best 90s albums for the way it made sampling a form of high art. Comprising entirely of hip-hop tracks, instrumentals and voice extracts, DJ Shadow’s debut is meticulously constructed and celebrates the freedoms of plunderphonics. And plunder he did: the American producer wears his heart on his sleeve, not once shying away from the ambitious or the obscene, the latter perhaps best heard on Napalm Brain/Scatter Brain, which features a monologue from 1986 cult “weird Western” film The Aurora Encounter. And yet, there are moments on Endtroducing… that are less bizarre and more outright dexterous, like the uncertain plunges of Changeling or the breathtaking transmissions leading up to Midnight In A Perfect World, the record’s atmospheric apex that proves someone’s love for their record collection is strong enough to conjure total sagacity.

Must hear: Midnight In A Perfect World

14: Slint: ‘Spiderland’ (1991)

Spiderland: the post-rock obelisk enveloped in mystery. Did the vocalist really check himself into a psychiatric ward after the album’s release? Or was it a car accident blown out of proportion? We will likely never know, but one thing’s for certain: Slint’s final album is unlike anything else, darting across amateurish structures and exploring unclaimed indie-rock territory in the process. Spiderland appears to linger on the frayed ends of sanity for uncomfortably long periods, like the outbursts of the nightmarish carnival depicted on Breadcrumb Trail. It’s one of the best 90s album, alright, but Spiderland exists entirely outside time, genre and categorisation. Be it the agonisingly eerie build-ups on Don, Aman, the perfect balance of inclusion and omission of silence on For Dinner…, or the menacing plods of Good Morning, Captain, Slint know no bounds, and it becomes impossible for even the most cynical to consider this a mere accident.

Must hear: Good Morning, Captain

13: Cocteau Twins: ‘Heaven Or Las Vegas’ (1990)

Some say that Elizabeth Fraser’s voice is that of an angel’s. Well, Heaven Or Las Vegas is the first time she performs primarily in English (all previous releases contained some sort of gibberish/Latin/“angel speak” to fit with Cocteau Twins’ pacifying resonances”. Perhaps this angel’s visions of Las Vegas reminded her of the pearly gates; the serene plains painted on Cherry-Coloured Funk and the title track seem to wash over the intoxicating lights of a city that never sleeps – one that’s permanently stuck in dreamland. But there’s a deeper presence still underneath the optimism of Pitch The Baby and Iceblink Luck – notably themes of death, due to bassist Simon Raymonde’s father passing on – which can ultimately be heard through the music more than the words. Those closing tracks, Road, River And Rail and Frou-Frou Foxes In Midsummer Fires, orchestrate a darker feeling far more bluntly than any amount of angelic singing could on Fraser’s part.

Must hear: Frou-Frou Foxes In Midsummer Fires

12: Massive Attack: ‘Mezzanine’ (1998)

Mezzanine is probably the only record on this list of best 90s albums that shouldn’t be listened to on vinyl. It’s a seer at the dawn of the digital age – and should be treated as such. There’s a reason Dissolved Girl can be faintly heard at the beginning of The Matrix, and there’s a reason the original CD is neon orange, hidden away in a monochrome cage. Mezzanine is a force to be reckoned with, each individual track clawing from the inside until it sinks hooks, looking for what the listener resonates with most. The nostalgic among us will cling to Teardrop and its end-of-an-era sensations; the surreptitiously-inclined will opt for the harrowing cover of Man Next Door. Arguably the greatest album trip-hop has to offer, Mezzanine has something for everyone, even if they don’t know it yet.

Must hear: Teardrop

11: Faith No More: ‘Angel Dust’ (1992)

As a prototypical exploration of what would eventually come to be defined as alternative metal, Faith No More’s 1992 album, Angel Dust, saw the San Francisco-based rock band enter the realm of genre-bending theatricality. Ranging from guttural roars to soulful crooning, Mike Patton’s vocals anticipate the nu-metal direction later bands such as Korn and Slipknot would head in, making Angel Dust a playground of cacophonous noise that was ahead of its time. Defying convention with genre-defining hits such as Midlife Crisis and A Small Victory, the album explored themes of alienation and societal discord, making each song a time capsule of early-90s disillusionment. By challenging preconceived notions of what alternative music could be, Angel Dust set a precedent for metal-oriented experimentation that was yet to have its moment in the sun; once it finally did, however, nobody could deny that its origins could be traced back to Faith No More.

Must hear: Midlife Crisis

10: Portishead: ‘Dummy’ (1994)

Dummy won the 1995 Mercury Prize, despite heavy competition from PJ Harvey, fellow-trip-hop artist Tricky and Oasis’ generation-defining Definitely Maybe. The accolade was much deserved; the Bristol group’s first album is one of the finest trip-hop has to offer, with frontwoman Beth Gibbons dealing with subverted gender roles and emotional fragility over some of the decade’s most off-putting and leftfield instrumentals. Dummy gets a lot of attention for its closer, Glory Box, which is usually seen on “greatest closing tracks of all time” lists. Like Mazzy Star with Fade Into You, Portishead best showcased their magnum opus live, this time on Later… With Jools Holland, in 1994, where a certain Michael Hutchence of INXS keenly watches an ice-cold Gibbons command a man to give her a reason to love him.

Must hear: Glory Box

9: R.E.M.: ‘Automatic For The People’ (1992)

After some of R.E.M.’s most unwavering tracks appeared on Out Of Time (Country Feedback, Losing My Religion, Low), the Athens, Georgia, giants set out to release a proper rock’n’roll record, full of pent-up aggression and distortion. Instead, R.E.M. released Automatic For The People, nearly 50 minutes of battling with intention versus outcome that paradoxically comes to form one of their strongest efforts, earning its place among the best 90s albums. Where restrained opener Drive would typically encourage an album full of The One I Loves and Driver 8s, Automatic For The People brims with the saccharine, and the truth and ultimately satisfies Michael Stipe’s heart rather than his head. The conflict rages only once in each half: The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite and Ignoreland hold their own in an ocean of Stipe’s repression, only further complemented by the jaw-dropping accompaniments on Nightswimming, Find The River and, of course, Everybody Hurts.

Must hear: Nightswimming

8: Nirvana: ‘Nevermind’ (1991)

Leaving Nevermind out of a best 90s albums list is like omitting Star Wars from the sci-fi canon. Just thinking of the era tends to conjure the infamous album cover of a four-month old Spencer Elden underwater, as well as the unmistakable sound of Smells Like Teen Spirit rallying a legion of dispirited youths. Grunge had its fair share of gargantuan releases – namely Soundgarden’s Badmotorfinger, Pearl Jam’s Ten and Alice In Chains’ Dirt – but Nevermind was the record that made it into every teen’s bedroom, boldly expanding on the Teen Age Riot that Sonic Youth laid bare three years prior. As well as a perfect tracklist including In Bloom, Come As You Are and Lithium, Nevermind features one of three moments in time that wholly represent grunge: the sinister instrumental that first appears at the 45-second mark on the secret final track, Endless, Nameless.

Must hear: Smells Like Teen Spirit

7: Björk: ‘Homogenic’ (1997)

An avant-pop masterpiece that defies easy categorisation, Björk’s 1997 magnum opus, Homogenic, marries classical orchestration with electronic beats, creating an otherworldly soundscape unlike anything ever attempted before. Simultaneously powerful and delicate, Björk’s ethereal vocals guide listeners on a near-mystical journey of emotional intensity, finding new ways of imbuing love and self-discovery with a weight of transcendence on standout tracks such as Jóga and Bachelorette. Thanks to her unique style and progressive approach, the Icelandic singer has gone on to influence a whole generation of musicians who venerate her as an icon for her role in fusing avant-garde experimentalism with melodic ethereality. Ranking highly among the best 90s albums, Homogenic remains just as captivating as it was on the day of its release.

Must hear: Jóga

6: Wu-Tang Clan: ‘Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)’ (1993)

Wu-Tang Clan’s genre-defining debut isn’t only one of the best 90s albums, it’s one of the best albums of any era, in any genre. Painting a brutal picture of life in New York – evident through the uncompromising wordplay and spine-shattering beats on Bring Da Ruckus and Clan In Da Front – the age-old proverb of “too many cooks spoil the broth” does not apply to these streetwise heroes. No, the fatalism of the East Coast did little to hinder the ten-strong group’s artistic vision, as Enter The Wu-Tang is littered with genius, from tranquil tones on C.R.E.A.M. and irresistible rhythms on Protect Ya Neck, to their signature touch: a martial-arts movie fetish, Shaolin Shadowboxin’ Wu-Tang style.

Must hear: Protect Ya Neck

5: The Flaming Lips: ‘The Soft Bulletin’ (1999)

Serving up a playful tapestry of psych-infused whimsy and quirky introspection, The Flaming Lips’ 1999 album, The Soft Bulletin, succeeded in widening the sonic boundaries of alternative rock. With a kaleidoscope of lush orchestration, electronic elements and frontman Wayne Coyne’s high-pitched yet distinctive vocal delivery, it conjures a sonic dreamscape that would later be cited as an important influence on Tame Impala’s Kevin Parker. Often reflecting on the human condition, Coyne’s combination of poignant lyricism with ethereal melodies on tracks such as Race For The Prize and Waitin’ For A Superman ensured The Soft Bulletin boasted the best Flaming Lips songs[] to date, while Dave Fridmann’s production was a triumph, seamlessly blending analogue warmth with futuristic experimentation. A testament to The Flaming Lips’ unique vision, The Soft Bulletin’s mixture of emotional depth and existential musings mark it out as a pivotal release among the best 90s albums, directly influencing a new wave of experimental rock in the years that followed.

Must hear: Race For The Prize

4: Nas: ‘Illmatic’ (1994)

Nas begins his career in the most unbelievable way. Once the groove-ridden intro (The Genesis) is over, the rapper proclaims, “I don’t know how to start this shit…” and then immediately drops one of the explosive verses in the history of hip-hop: N.Y. State Of Mind is a barbaric portal into the world Nas (and countless young Americans) experienced in New York, the rapper reeling off tales of shootings, gang violence, crack-dealing and altercations with police like they’re as common as a morning coffee. But Nas’ daily routine is kept afloat by nostalgia, like on Memory Lane (Sittin’ In Sa Park), as well as his adoration for the classics; he’s a fan of Ben Kingsley’s Gandhi and aspires to be Tony Montana in Scarface, making him a little less like the mindless maniac Joe Pesci portrays in Goodfellas and more like Al Pacino’s self-aware character in Carlito’s Way. Through its handling of eye-opening themes and Nas’ endlessly creative wordplay, Illmatic remains one of the best 90s albums, coming across as a most authentic release, with bars so good it’s difficult not to rewind to make sure you heard it right.

Must hear: N.Y. State Of Mind

3: My Bloody Valentine: ‘Loveless’ (1991)

Alan McGee once said, “People were talking about [Loveless] as if it was Beethoven’s 7th or 8th Symphony. No; it’s some guy that can’t finish a record that took three years.” A legend in his own right, McGee helped to establish some of the UK’s most cherished artists through his record label, Creation – Oasis, Primal Scream and The Jesus And Mary Chain among them – but in the case of Loveless, his judgement couldn’t be more wrong. Destined to take its place among the best 90s albums, Loveless is the record The Cure’s Robert Smith wishes he made. It’s a record that reinvented alternative music – and rock music in general – at the beginning of an era that seemingly had no rules. MBV mastermind Kevin Shields’ highly unorthodox techniques (such as shoving a harmonica through an amp and distorting the hell out of it) led to complete wonders: the infectious rhythms on closer Soon, the teary-eyed glimmers of hope on I Only Said, the auditory bombardment on Only Shallow and the spiritual weight of Sometimes (often considered the best shoegaze song of all time, but that’s another list altogether…). Loveless is an album shrouded in secrecy, teenage angst and a balance of unavoidable pretentiousness – everything that made shoegaze, and the 90s, so dearly beloved.

Must hear: Sometimes

2: Radiohead: ‘OK Computer’ 1997)

Often cited as one of the greatest albums of all time, Radiohead’s 1997 masterpiece, OK Computer, needs no introduction. With dystopic heft, each song presciently dissected the decade’s technological paranoia, with Thom Yorke’s haunting vocals and cryptic, introspective lyrics hanging in the air as they collide with Jonny Greenwood’s symphonic approach to guitar distortion. Under Nigel Godrich’s guidance as producer, the album is a work of inarguable genius that’s sonically rich throughout, melding alternative rock with experimental soundscapes in ways that are by turns innovative and accessible, particularly on tracks such as Paranoid Android and Karma Police. With the passing of time, the themes on OK Computer arguably feel more relevant than ever, perfectly reflecting the anxieties and uncertainties of the modern era as articulately as Pink Floyd’s music did in the 70s. It would be nothing short of a crime to leave OK Computer off any list of the best 90s albums.

Must hear: Paranoid Android

1: The Notorious B.I.G.: ‘Ready To Die’ (1994)

Tragically, Ready To Die is the only album released by The Notorious B.I.G. during his lifetime. The scourge of gang warfare cut the game-changing young rapper’s life short, resulting in his eerily aptly titled sophomore album, Life After Death, coming out without its creator around to celebrate it. Nevertheless, the Brooklynite’s debut tops this list of the best 90s albums. It is full of prime cuts – and potential – from the rags-to-riches odyssey that is Juicy to the seductive R&B groove of Big Poppa, made possible thanks to the excellent sample of The Isley Brothers’ Between The Sheets (which also saw later action on Gwen Stefani’s Luxurious). As one of the greatest albums in hip-hop history, Ready To Die makes a bid for immortality.

Must hear: Juicy

Looking for more? Check out the best 90s album covers.

Original article: 16 September 2020

Updated: 14 October 2023. Extra words: Luke Edwards