The Spinanes were Portland OGs singer-guitarist Rebecca Gates and drummer Scott Plouf and were snapped up by Sub Pop in the post-Nirvana feeding frenzy. Gates was a guitar manipulator more artful and poetic and sensual than her peers, with a voice full of emotion and warmth_a deep, distinct standout among the samey girly-girls. Plouf was a powerhouse drummer, exact and on-point, with a giant collection of shades and enough mod swagger to make Paul Weller proud. Their urgency was soft but they pummeled us hard. When they recorded their debut album, Manos, with Brian Paulson at AmRep in Minneapolis, they brought a ridiculous amount of energy: Few acts manage to capture that live spark in the studio. A college radio hit, "Manos" was characterized as indiepop or indie rock or alternative, but also had a touch of art rock, folk, emo, math rock, postrock, even jazz, nearing the same spiritual space as '90s bands like Unrest, Sebadoh, and Versus. Gates told our zine (chickfactor) in 1993 what kind of record she wanted to make: She wanted it to be really magical - the way the first Verlaines record is or a Replacements record - things that you can put on when you feel horrible. Named after a misheard Jesus Lizard lyric, "Manos" is just that: It sounds like smoky venues and dance parties at punk houses: woozy, tight, fraught, wrought, tense, intense, swoony, breathy, fast, worldly/weary -?sophisticated and primitive, stressful and soothing. Twelve songs and nary a dud: "Noel, Jonah and Me", the epic title track (a hip-swayer full of lust and longing), the rifftastic "Grand Prize", the catchy "Sunday". "Manos" was an original in a crowded market in 1993, and the Spinanes seemed to be everywhere. All hail its reissue, one quarter century later. - Gail O'Hara