The 100 Best EPs of All Time

October 19, 2018 | by No Recess! Staff
 

 

Albums are too damn long, and they keep getting longer. The ability to cherry-pick favorites, which became easier with CDs and then too easy with iTunes and streaming, has turned the focus away from quality control and towards cramming as much work as possible into a record. What used to be called a double album is now the norm.

 

The EP is undervalued. Concise and stripped-down, it’s a format that knows its limitations, there for new artists who want to experiment and get themselves out there, and for established acts to release leftover material. EPs were at their best in the late ‘70s to early ‘90s, peak eras for punk and alternative rock, when anybody could pick up a guitar but most only had the patience for a few songs. It was a good time, and for some acts, it’s never gone away.

 

So here are NO RECESS’ 100 favorite EPs of all time, honoring a fast, short, and pure type of record that deserves more respect. Give them all a listen. It won’t take too long.  – Melody Danielle Rice

 

User Guide: Click on album images to open a new window and listen.
 

 

 

100. s/s/s, Beak & Claw (Anticon, 2012)

On this impossibly beautiful mystery text, three gifted semi-stars definable by their relative introversion find untold joys in community. This suits the ostensible concept, a series of scenes reminding us that before America went full dystopia, the strictures and expectations the recession dismantled led to a period of pink-cloud hope for a wave of millennials and their wide-open minds. The music sounds like the waking dream the best of those times felt like, and the allusive lyrics attain the scope of a movie — and with room for a bonus, “Octomom,” in which a tabloid target is transformed into an empathy lesson. – Ryan Maffei

 

 

 

99. Drake, So Far Gone (OVO, 2009)

On the most influential rap EP of the last 10 years, a pair of unknown, former child actors in Toronto stirred up their feelings with some icy synths and spare 808s to cook up a sound that defined a generation. Drake and 40’s luxurious, 300-thread count performative sorrow immediately stood them apart from the rigid mainstream rap world of the time. Of course, better days were ahead (really, only half of these songs are keepers), but there’s only one chance to make a first impression. And So Far Gone left a hell of an imprint. – Dan Alvarez

 

 

 

98. The Paranoid Style, Rock and Roll Just Can’t Recall (Battle Worldwide, 2015)
Their 2016 full-length debut Rolling Disclosure is a must-listen, but these lobbyists/critics-turned-garage-rockers work best in the EP format, because when humanity is totally fucked — as husband-wife duo Elizabeth Nelson and Timothy Bracy clearly believe we are — why bother lengthening anything? This is their best work thus far, politically savvy enough to be cynical, optimistic enough to believe their audience can keep up with them, and with tunes like these, it’s worth trying. They recently re-released it with three new songs, ‘cause they have more great songs than they know what to do with. – Melody Danielle Rice

 

 

 

 

97. Wussy, Duo (Shake It, 2014)

As they near veteranhood — a mantle ex-Ass Pony Chuck Cleaver started this group wearing ironically — Wussy may have felt a few zephyrs of the respect they’ve spent so long earning. But they also still face a destiny as rock ‘n’ roll’s (these days we don’t need guitars like we once did) best best-kept secret. Here, the three musicians who round out their thunderous sound step aside and let the songwriters do their thing, and it’s the usual disarming monsoon of bitter tears, magic words, and beyond-belief chemistry. – Ryan Maffei

 

 

 

 

96. Tool, Opiate (Zoo Entertainment, 1992)

Preceding  Tool's first full-length release, Opiate is pure, raw power and absent of opuses — and the title a nod to Karl Marx's "religions ... is the opiate of the masses." These guys weren't to big on religion and many of these tracks feel just as relevant today. Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

95. Dum Dum Girls, He Gets Me High (Sub Pop, 2011)

Giddy rock ‘n' roll leather jacket love songs, especially the shockingly great Smiths cover. Dee Dee's harmonies feel born of supernatural passion and late night drives on foggy nights. – C.M. Crockford

 

 

 

 

94. Slayer, Haunting the Chapel (Metal Blade, 1984)

Slayer’s been cranking out breakneck thrash longer than I’ve been breathing, but what’s most impressive about going back to their hastily produced second project is how fully-formed they arrived. Aside from the production (the phrase, “recorded on a toaster” comes to mind), it’s tough to argue the disc’s four tempestuous tracks would sound out of place on any of the legendary LPs that followed thereafter. It’s no surprise that these tracks continue to pop up on their set lists more than 30 years down the road. – Dan Alvarez

 

 

 

93. Neko Case, Canadian Amp (Lady Pilot, 2001)

Over a decade before she took a torch to the gender binary with “Man,” country’s least compromising siren was turning a no-BS eye to the often too-real war between the sexes with dagger-like incisiveness. Nominally a celebration of Canadian songwriters, it’s not always an indictment or subversion of the male mess — she makes time to hail Neil Young and Hank Williams as brothers. But by the time she gets to poor Ellen Smith’s fate, you know she’s making no bones about the full, bloody potential of patriarchal cruelty — and you’re increasingly concerned what fully appropriate revenge she might be cooking up. – Ryan Maffei

 

 

 

92. Modern Baseball, Mobo Presents: The Perfect Cast EP (Lame-O, 2015)
Don’t let the goofy name* or the sprightly pop-punk melodies fool you, few groups have written more incisively about mental health in recent years than the Philly foursome. This six-track project sees twin frontmen Brendan Lukens and Jake Ewald explore loss, depression, friendship, and addiction with honesty and empathy that belies their years. On leadoff track “The Waterboy Returns,” Lukens expresses concern about a drifting friend with a care and generosity that is hard to find and indicative of why their music has meant so much to so many people. – Dan Alvarez

 

*The album title is a literal “Goofy Movie” reference

 

 

 

91. Neighborhood Brats, Neighborhood Brats (self-released, 2011)

Former San Franciscoans bashing out hyper urban songs like “Lurking the Loin” and “FTW” in the mode of fellow residents The Avengers. Just some glorious, hopped-up California hardcore punk. – C.M. Crockford

 

 

 

90. James Blake, CMYK (R&S, 2010)

Miles away from the polished sadboi crooner that just performed up at the VMAs, the mopey Londoner’s sophomore beat-tape helped define the dance music of my early twenties. Recorded at his home in South London, a then-unknown Blake stirred up his love for radio R&B with spare IDM and lonely jazz keys to help create a subdued sound that sparked a million dumb internet sub-genres (#postdubstep4eva). Its Kelis-sampling title track is still an absolute classic, and its final two tracks are interesting early sketches of the direction that led him to collaborations with people like Beyoncé, Drake, and Travis Scott. – Dan Alvarez
 

 

 

 

89. Sonic Youth, SYR1: Anagrama EP (SYR, 1997)

Sonic Youth's late-career "emancipation" side hustle here, with the first release on SYR, their label. While not as wild or abstract as what would follow, Anagrama offers a shaggy concision, with the band faux-jamming hard enough to find a few snug, discordant grooves: shuddering hisses, a patch of jazz, a lengthy improv whose initial modesty is a feint. A sly snack between LP-sized meals. – Raymond Cummings
 

 

 

 

88. Aesop Rock & Homeboy Sandman, Lice (2015, Stones Throw)
Two of the finest alt-rappers of the 21st century trade verses over beats from five different producers. The results are as funny and smart as they are hypnotizing. – Melody Danielle Rice

 

 

 

 

87. Rodan, How the Winter Passed (Three Little Girls, 1993)

This whole of this EP is two songs: “Exoskeleton” and “Milk & Melancholy,” released as a warm-up promo for a limited release cassette demo Aviary and then the band’s lone studio release in 1994, Rusty. Two melodically dark and intensely brutal tracks totally exemplifying the early ‘90s post-hardcore/math rock that Louisville became cherished for. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

86. Be Your Own Pet, Damn Damn Leash (XL, 2004)

Be Your Own Pet broke up too soon but their brief discography is still a treasure trove of spite and punk vitriol. This is the first shot fired, a quick blast of feminist feeling that reverberates more than ever. The highlight here is “Electric Shake,” an anti-slut shaming anthem with a great surf guitar solo and Jemina Pearl's ever joyful voice. – C.M. Crockford

 

 

 

 

85. Shabazz Palaces, Shabazz Palaces (self-released, 2009)

This EP, for most listeners, marked the semi-public return of a hip-hop legend, Digable Planets' Ishmael Reed. Shabazz Palaces' beamed its signals from a distant spaceship: a bumping, inquisitive new wave of Afro-futurism that mixed heady raps with underground dance music. – Andre Perry

 

 

 

 

84. Beastie Boys, Aglio e Olio (Grand Royal, 1995)

Is there anything more mid-90s than the Beastie Boys going back to their hardcore, skate park roots (13 years previous was 1981’s Polly Wog Stew before the then-foursome ever realized a rap record)? Answer: Of course, but Aglio e Olio is certainly up there. With nods to Minor Threat, The Germs, and Bad Brains, this breakneck EP that’s all of 11-minutes long is the result of the trio writing too many punk songs for their upcoming record Hello Nasty. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

83. Robyn, Body Talk Pt. 1 (Konichiwa, 2010)

Good dance music is an escape, a temporary release from whatever’s going on in your actual life. Great dance music is more than that. It welcomes your personal baggage, then invites you to unpack it and release it on the dance floor. When you hear “Dancing on my Own” or “Cry When You Get Older,” you don’t forget your problems and move to the beat. Your issues — your lame ass ex, that person who didn’t text you back — become your power source, and you’re compelled to dance your way right past them. Robyn has crafted a incredible amount of those ultra-rare songs, and Body Talk Pt. 1 is her most densely concentrated collection of them. – Dan Alvarez

 

 

 

 

82. Eazy-E, 5150 Home 4 tha Sick (Ruthless/Priority, 1992)

“Merry Muthafuckin’ Christmas,” thee end. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 
81. Tokyo Police Club, A Lesson in Crime (Paper Bag, 2006)

In 2006, Tokyo Police Club was the latest band to get labeled “The New Strokes.” The tag never seemed appropriate for a band with the substance and enthusiasm displayed on the band’s debut, A Lesson in Crime. Its seven songs (eight if you count bonus track “Cut Cut Paste”) are all strobe lights and explosions, more closely related to punk’s economy than the detached coolness of turn-of-the-millenium garage rock. – Ryan Wasoba

 

 

 

 

80. Maps & Atlases, You and Me and the Mountain (Sargent House, 2008)

Not many bands can make your jaw drop with their technical abilities while also writing songs you can fall in love during. Maps & Atlases managed both on You and Me and the Mountain, a strange platypus of a record that lands somewhere between Don Caballero and Paul Simon (and makes one re-evaluate the possibilities of a jamblock). – Ryan Wasoba

 

 

 

 

79. Wavves, Life Sux (Ghost Ramp, 2011)

Catchy surf rock from the next crop of disaffected youth from southern California, sure why not? This is one of two EPs the band released that year, but Life Sux really seems to capture Wavves’ malcontent. And it features the memorable, foot-tappin’ “I Wanna Meet Dave Grohl.” Life Sux ends on “Destroy” with the help of Fucked Up, a track that contains all the punk sneer one could want in life. Solid effort all around. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

78. DNA, A Taste of DNA (American Clavé, 1981)

DNA was only together from 1978 to 1982, but they had an immense impact during those incredibly formative years on the NYC punk scene and beyond. A Taste of DNA is their cacophonic, six-song swan song that echoed throughout the past three decades and continues to survive in the multitude of vital artists and jagged noise that rose from its wake. – Angela Zimmerman

 

 

 

 

77.  White Zombie, God of Thunder (Caroline, 1989)

The beautiful missing link between White Zombie's chainsaw massacre no wave years and their mainstream reign as groove metal killers. It stomps, it fucks, it samples Mike Nesmith and Greedo. Batman isn't the coolest thing from 1989. – James Greene, Jr.

 

 

 

 

76. Ice Cube, Kill at Will ( Priority Records, 1990)

Ice Cube was hungry in this era. Fresh off the heels of his acclaimed debut solo studio album, AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted, Kill at Will features the classic “Jackin’ for Beats,” the thought-provoking “The Product” that takes to task America’s systemic propensity to keep its underclass down, and of course Cube’s sad ode to fallen friends with “Dead Homiez.” – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

75. New Order, 1981-1982 (Factory Records, 1982)

Also known as Factus 8, this five-song collection captured a group finding its voice in the wake of an unimaginable tragedy. Recorded just after their debut, “Movement,” and about two years on from Ian Curtis’ death, you can really hear the roots of expansive new wave sound that would become the band’s calling card post-Joy Division. Peter Hook’s signature rumbling bass-lines and Bernard Sumner’s choppy riffs are beautifully framed by layers of keys and electronic drums. The sound quality is dicey in places, and there are better recordings of all of these songs other places, but it remains a critical piece of understanding New Order. – Dan Alvarez

 

 

 

 

74. The Lee Harvey Oswald Band, The Lee Harvey Oswald Band (Touch & Go, 1989)

A Sonics cover, an art-damaged sound collage, and a couple distortion-washed originals make up this mysterious group’s ragged and glorious debut. It’s the relentlessness of “Getting Waster With the Vampires,” however, which really warms the heart. Throw this one on during your next sleaze-o party.  – Andrew K. Lau

 

 

 

 

73. Fiery Furnaces, EP (Rough Trade, 2005)

Only the Fiery Furnaces would actively subvert notions of the EP format serving as a mouse bouche or brief side-step from a greater narrative. On their self-titled EP, which collects b-sides, new material, and reinterpretations of old songs, FF offer a quirky suite that stands as its own realized album; a remarkable work when viewed in the expanse of the band's overall catalog. Andre Perry

 

 

 

 

72. Jens Lekman, An Argument With Myself (Secretly Canadian, 2011)

Here’s the thing with Jens Lekman: The dude is just so fucking good at writing songs. And like the rest of his projects, this EP is chock full of engaging stories — well-sung and impeccably arranged. Whether he’s having a silly, drunken mini-meltdown in Australia or promising a brighter future to a seriously ill friend, the Swede has a rare ability to transport you into his reality and wrap you up in his sweet tenor. He signs off with the playful sweetness of “So This Guy at My Office”: a piece of plain-spoken poetry exploring how life’s mundanity magnifies the ones we love. It is simple and sweet and everything that makes Jens’ music mean so much to so many. – Dan Alvarez

 

 

 

 

71. Eminem, Slim Shady EP (Web Entertainment, 1997)

This is the demo that changed Eminem’s life forever, as it won the attention of Jimmy Iovine and Dr. Dre via his alter-ego storytelling device and true voice, Slim Shady. Say what you will about the album’s content of rampant drug use, flagrant sex acts, mental instability, and hyperbolic violence, this was Eminem’s out from an unhappy life and it worked (kinda?). Approximately 150 CDs were originally pressed and those rare hard copies now go for over a thousand bucks, so that’s something. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

70. G.B.H., Leathers, Bristles, Studs, & Acne (Clay, 1981)

The crossover thrash seeds were planted with this molotov cocktail of livid guitar, kick slap drumming, and disaffected lyrics. G.B.H's assault is so rough you almost don't notice the mistakes and errant noises purposely left in because they're so punk rock. Contains the best song about werewolves sung by anyone named Colin. – James Greene, Jr.

 

 

 

 

69. Descendents, Fat (New Alliance, 1981)

Before Milo Aukerman went to college, the Descendents hit their peak with this four-and-a-half minute ode to gluttony. “I like food / Food tastes good,” Milo sings, and what set this band apart from other hardcore punk groups is that there’s zero snark. It’s just a group of dudes who love greasy food with no shame, and if you have a problem with that, name me a great record about eating healthy. – Melody Danielle Rice

 

 

 

 

 

68. Lana Del Rey, Paradise (Polydor/Interscope, 2012)

With Paradise, Lana Del Rey began a fruitful retreat away from the hip-hop influenced vibe of her self-titled LP, and towards the spectral, stoned strain of American Pop Gothic we've since come to rely on her for. Her remit being that of an Old Hollywood ingenue — or the tweaked Platonic ideal of same — the glacial, soothing pacing fits. Del Rey evinces a continuing willingness to shock: The opening verse of "Cola" remains worth all the raised-eyebrow emojis anyone can thumb into being. – Raymond Cummings

 

 

 

 

67. Pogues, Poguetry in Motion (Stiff/MCA, 1986)

“London Girl” rocks the accordion hard. Also the line from “The Body of an American”: “He asked no quarter from the bosses / And none was given.” Drinking music for the overworked working class, this EP let’s you know you absolutely do deserve the warmth of some beers and camaraderie. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

66. Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Slow Riot for New Zero Kanada (Kranky/Constellation, 1999)

As a millennium faded out, this Montreal orchestral collective greeted a dawning new century with balaclavas and ill portent. Sweeping and mournful in equal measure, Slow Riot collides autumnal classical and pre-apocalyptic squalor; in this outfit's careful hands, the promise of societal disintegration feels almost romantic. Peering backwards from the future, we weren't ready for what was coming. – Raymond Cummings

 

 

 

 

65. The Nerves, The Nerves (self-released, 1976)

One of those bands that could've only existed in the brief space between the decline of the British Invasion and the birth of punk rock. Four perfect power-pop songs drenched in Beatles-style vocals and chiming guitars — only these songs were released, but oh what songs.  – C.M. Crockford

 

 

 

 

64. Whiskeytown, Rural Free Delivery (Mood Food, 1997)

A delightful mess, Rural Free Delivery is fascinating window into the origin story of the perpetually dysfunctional, short-lived alt-country icons. Consisting mostly of rough demos recorded in a single day in ’95, the disc is a raw collection of tunes that range from sad sack country to Westerbergian alt-rock with touches of punk attitude. At this point in their career, the batter isn’t quite mixed yet, and the stylistic lumpiness sheds extra light on Ryan Adams’ early influences. Of course, that’s the reason he never wanted this released in the first place, and it’s precisely the reason this is such a delightful easter egg and fascinating document for Adams-headz (aka Halloweenheads) everywhere. – Dan Alvarez

 

 

 

 

63. Belle & Sebastian, Books (Rough Trade, 2004)

Belle & Sebastian has released a catalog full of winners during their 20+ year career, but this succinct four-song set is a testament to the indie-pop sound and sentiment that Stuart Murdoch first set out to master upon their formation in the late ‘90s. – Angela Zimmerman

 

 

 


62. The Residents, Duck Stab! (Ralph, 1978)

Though a sizable swath of their experiments no longer wear very well, the out-of-nowhere surrealist impudence of Meet the Residents! and this gloriously grating, gloriously concise pop nightmare still make Zappa sound like a small-minded, super-obvious prog prig. Keeping everything orderly and concise for once and making no other concessions to sonorousness of any kind makes for quite the combo, and the double-length edition is the kind of party album that will send all but your worthiest friends fleeing. – Ryan Maffei

 

 

 

 

61. Death Cab for Cutie, The Forbidden Love EP (Barsuk, 2000)

Death Cab for Cutie’s early discography is an evolutionary chart, both in their recording quality and Ben Gibbard’s songwriting abilities. The Forbidden Love EP occupies a specific sweet spot; Chris Walla’s production is clear but still brimming with lo-fi charm and Gibbard is only toying with the directness that he would later embrace. It all coalesces perfectly on “Photobooth,” a lament of impractical youthful lust that is frequently that oldest song on the band’s set lists. – Ryan Wasoba

 

 

 

 

60. Modest Mouse, The Fruit That Ate Itself (Glacial Pace, 1997)

Modest Mouse in the late ‘90s was just such a force. Their third EP, The Fruit That Ate Itself, is 20 minutes of the shouty, emotive, off-kilter indie rock that made them one of the most defining bands of the last few decades. Scrappy, essential shit. – Angela Zimmerman

 

 

 

 

59. Ty Segal, Mr. Face (Famous Class, 2015)

Mr. Segal has released a lot of stuff in his relatively short career, but Mr. Face summarizes best his knack for California-tinged garage/psych rock. Tracks like “Drug Mugger” and “The Picture” will take you right back down to the proverbial basement of one’s mind, blissing out to, simply put, good goddamn music. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

58. Wolf Eyes, Dead Hills (American Tapes/Troubleman, 2002)

Among the sweetest spots of Wolf Eyes' discography arrives just prior to the band's Sub Pop semi-crossover; feverish and subterranean, Dead Hills is among that era's grimiest treasures. If rhythms are said to be guiding this intricate anti-music — disjointed scuffles, clicks, strafes, shortwave coughs, hits of ochre dub — they are the failing, flapping rhythms of a half-disintegrated machine. It's a mesmerizing blurt of devolution, and almost impossible to turn away from. – Raymond Cummings

 

 

 

 

57. June of ’44, The Anatomy of Sharks (Quarter Stick, 1997)

The slidelong “Shark and Sailors” and vocal-shredding “Seemingly Endless Steamer” epitomizes the band’s collective mindmeld and expert tension building/releasing; meanwhile, the instrumental “Boom” veers into an unexpected Middle Eastern drone. Angular rock from this top-notch Louisville quartet.  – Andrew K. Lau

 

 

 

 

 

56. Sugar, Beaster (Rykodisc, Creation, 1993)

This is Mould pushing the beauty within his always ecstatic, aggressive music, particularly the beguiling, spiraling opener “Come Around.” These alt-rock songs are hymns and fuck yous to God, a lover, or both, like “Feeling Better.” One of his best releases by far. – C.M. Crockford

 

 

 

 

55. Digital Underground, The Is an EP Release (Tommy Boy, 1991)

Digital Underground is straight-up loveable. This is perhaps no more apparent than on “Same Song,” the lead track from This Is an EP Release that was featured in the film Nothing but Trouble starring Dan Aykroyd, Chevy Chase, Demi Moore, and John Candy. In the video, which employs footage from the film, Tupac Shakur also makes his debut by portraying an African king, sealing his own fate as would-be legend. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

54. Les Savy Fav, Emor: Rome Written Upside Down (Southern, 2000)

Les Savy Fav wasn’t a heavy band, but they were intent on destroying everything. Emor: Rome Written Upside Down is the most deconstructionist document of the group’s art-rock, a perverse take on new wave, math rock, and punk that may always sound like a welcome escape from the stagnant indie rock happening at any point in time. – Ryan Wasoba

 

 

 

 

53. Cursive, Burst and Bloom (Saddle Creek, 2001)

I’ll try to make this perfectly clear: Tim Kasher once had the best scream/sing voice in indie rock, less emo script and more believably broken. The five tracks on this EP were released after Domestica (a concept album) and each stand alone. Some fans didn’t really dig newcomer Gretta Cohn and her cello, but her cinematic strings added a warm, soft counterpoint to Cursive’s penchant for frantic intensity. “Tall Tales, Telltales” perfectly proves her presence works. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

 

52. Jean Grae, The Bootleg of the Bootleg (Babygrande, 2003)

Coming in at just over an hour, how does The Bootleg of the Bootleg qualify as an extended player? The sixth and final hidden track “Chapter One: Destiny” is 45-minutes long with 11 separate parts. Conceptually, that’s brilliant, and that type of creativity is only elevated as it streams seamlessly into Grae’s no-frills, hard-hitting flow. – Jocelyn Hoppa

 

 

 

 

51. Tera Melos, Drugs to the Dear Youth (Sargent, 2007)

In the past decade, Tera Melos have made the transition from “excellent math rock group” to “one of the weirdest bands on the planet.” Their final proper instrumental release, 2007’s Drugs to the Dear Youth gloriously melds noise rock’s bombasts, prog’s razor-sharp tightness, free jazz’s sprawl, and emo’s sensitivity. Drugs is a document of Tera Melos’ abilities and ambition and a cult-classic record among various nerdy niches. – Ryan Wasoba

 

 

 

 

50. Rilo Kiley, The Initial Friend (Rilo, 1999)

It’s bizarre to hear Jenny Lewis with anything less than an airtight grip on flawless songwriting, unerring wisdom, or unflagging confidence. But her few flashes of naïveté or confusion here only help illuminate an intuition, not to mention rock-hard feminist conviction, that was pretty much in bloom on arrival. Offering further dimension is the source of her ennui, Blake Sennett, who writes more than ever, and at least obfuscates his limitations with a vagueness and atmosphere that suits (or simply doesn’t distract from) the truer talent. Seek out the first pressing for the delicious “Glendora.” Classic: “The Frug.” – Ryan Maffei