Pitchfork

For me, the most impressive trick a band can pull off is to create a unique, instantly identifiable sound with the most basic of musical tools. What the American Analog Set has accomplished to date has been a neat trick of sonic alchemy; with a bare minimum of sonic gimmicks-- calmly plucked guitar, mildly buzzy keyboard, muffled drums, hushed vocals-- they concoct a warm, pure sound whose closest relative may be Yo La Tengo in their less noisy moments. Like YLT, the American Analog Set knows how to let a song slowly unfold itself without testing the patience of its listeners, moving through each measure of their music with quiet, sure-footed confidence.

The band's simpler/gentler ethos is in full effect on Through the 90s, an obligatory housecleaning of b-sides, unreleased alternate versions, and live tracks that always pops up when a band switches labels. (Having spent several years on Emperor Jones, the band will be releasing their upcoming full-length on Tiger Style.) It's a testament to the American Analog Set's songwriting consistency that Through the 90s could easily pass as a proper album; however, where the band's previous releases have been exquisitely crafted so that the tracks flow effortlessly together, the primary virtue of this one is its subtle variety. Old tracks contrast just enough with newer ones so that their differences can be appreciated without the transitions between them being too jarring.

Among the more interesting artifacts is "High Fidelity vs. Guy Fidelity," one of the first songs the guys ever wrote; it bears a strong resemblance to Mogwai's more recent work of deliberate, clean guitars set against washes of keyboard noise. Amusingly, an ad jingle the band wrote for their collective favorite soft drink, Dr. Pepper, is also included; according to the brief, wry liner notes, the jingle was rejected, so the band developed it into the full-length "The Wait," which appeared on their 1999 album, The Golden Band. There's also a chilled-out remix of "Don't Wake Me," which casts the band in a favorable Darla Records-esque light, all soft-touch breakbeats and plinky electronics.

The latter half of the album is a little less exciting. Alternate versions of album tracks such as "Magnificent Seventies" from 1997's From Our Living Room to Yours and "It's All About Us" from The Golden Band, aren't alternate enough to be made too distinctive from their originals. The pair of extended live tracks that close the album show the band to be a smooth live act, but there's something unsettling about hearing their music played through a filter of ambient crowd noise. The American Analog Set isn't a band to experience collectively; they make the kind of music you want to hear in your own head, and while the presence of the crowd never overwhelms the band, it's still an unwelcome intrusion into that little musical world you create for yourself.

Despite the fact that it seems a little excessive for a band who's only released three albums to put out an odds-and-sods collection, Through the 90s, like every American Analog Set release to date, is a soothing, rewarding listen. It's not only a recommended purchase for longtime fans, but for newcomers as well, as its grab-bag nature captures many different nuances of the band's sound, both past and present.