My childhood really came into its own in the 1990s, which is a weird way of say that I was born in mid-1980s, and that I don’t really have any memories of being four years old. This is relevant today because when I first listened to Mogwai, I knew what a mogwai was. I didn’t know about the Chinese mythology mogwai — I knew about the furry little guys that become gremlins if you feed them after midnight. (If you feed me after midnight, I may get a little heartburn, but that’s really about it.)

When I first heard the band Mogwai — it was probably 2000 or 2001, if I’m guessing correctly — I probably thought about Gremlins, but in a passing sort of way. “Neat,” I probably thought. And then I would have listened to the music, and I was quickly disabused of any connection. The opening to Come On Die Young, “Punk Rock,” is almost precisely what you’d expect from post-rock of the era. Mogwai helped define a common post-rock sound of the 2000s: Slow, building guitars, chiming back and forth in their repetition. It’s accented by an Iggy Pop interview with the CBC from 1977¹; it’s a testament to Mogwai’s impact that a fair amount of the writing about the Iggy Pop interview actually references this album’s opener.

I still really enjoy Mogwai today. This particular style of post-rock is an oft-imitated one, and for a time, I think it was sort of sound that was almost a default for bands participating in the post-rock sound from 2002 to 2008, excepting of course that Mogwai’s not afraid to add some vocals to the mix.

The 90s were foundational for post-rock, which we’ll see as we traverse through this top 40. Mogwai was right there, building a genre that, like all great artists, they later disavowed. I, for one, love that arc. I also love post-rock and will use the name as a bit of a catch-all at times. Come On Die Young offers, to my mind, a big step forward after the band's 1997 outing Young Team, too.

I don’t have anything particularly deep to say about this album, but it’s sure a good one. I will say that I kind of hate the album cover, and that it makes me deeply uncomfortable for some reason.

#40: Silver Jews — American Water (1998)

Next time: A twee favorite

I started this project after a former coworker of mine started posting his top 50 albums of the 1990s. I thought it was a really interesting thing — and this is certainly taking a very different form than my list. I was also having a bit of trouble reaching 50 (not without adding some albums I didn't love, at least), so I decided I'd just stick to 40, what with my having turned 40 all-too recently.