The Sparklehorse Albums Ranked

Sparklehorse, a project fronted by the dearly departed Mark Linkous, was one of those bands that kind of rewired my brain. When I discovered them in high school, I was sucked into Linkous’ darkly wistful vortex, a timeless sphere of old showbiz inspirations, contemporary alt rock, and quiet yet spacey introspection. I describe Sparklehorse as “them,” but really, the “band” was Linkous, augmented by close collaborators over the years. Linkous began operating under the name in 1995, and including beyond his suicide in March 2010, six Sparklehorse albums have been released in the 28 years since that mid-’90s beginning. Omitted from this list are the EPs CHORDS I’VE KNOWN (1996) and IN THE FISHTANK 15 (2009), the latter a collaboration with electronic musician Fennesz. But they’re both worth listening to, like everything in the Sparklehorse canon.

#6 — BIRD MACHINE (2023)

Favorite track: “Hello Lord”

BIRD MACHINE is the second Sparklehorse album released after Linkous’ death, and unlike DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL (we’ll get to that in a bit), it wasn’t totally completed by him. Put out over 13 years after his death and the release of that other album, it’s been the longest amount of time between Sparklehorse records. And considering the space Linkous’ family gave, and the fact it isn’t just culled from totally unformed demos or something, BIRD MACHINE may be the last. It may also technically be Sparklehorse’s worst, but that’s truly a relative evaluation. BIRD MACHINE is one of the band’s most meditative albums, which is saying something. It never gets as bizarre as the deepest records or as poppy-screamy as the more accessible ones. But if it’s generally less eclectic or more even-keeled, BIRD MACHINE is not very much less affecting and haunting. That is certainly helped along by the lack of Linkous’ presence on our earthly plane; the music rings with a different kind of intensity and import considering the way his life ended. Ultimately, though, BIRD MACHINE fits into the Sparklehorse greatness with its apparent moroseness and morbidity that delves so deep as to come back out into life-affirming for me.

#5 — GOOD MORNING SPIDER (1998)

Favorite track: “Saint Mary”

Sparklehorse’s sophomore album is, I’d suspect among certain circles, held in higher regard than I’ve indicated here. But as I’ve already expressed, all of Sparklehorse’s records are incredibly worthwhile and GOOD MORNING SPIDER is no exception. But for all of the discussed strangeness of Linkous’ musical approach, apparently antithetical to even alt radio play, many of his albums contain a thread of ear-pleasing basics. GOOD MORNING SPIDER is not really like that, and although I deeply appreciate it and enjoy it, there’s no denying for me that it serves up less consistent pleasures than most anything else from Sparklehorse. “Saint Mary” is the epitome of the record’s thesis, as it reckons with Linkous’ overdose that paralyzed him for an extended period of time. It’s slight but not thin, as Linkous’ singing voice (so much higher and otherwise tonally different than his speaking voice) plumbs depths of sorrow and, yes, some self-pity. GOOD MORNING SPIDER is an immersive dive but it’s not as electrifying as Sparklehorse’s fullest capabilities.

#4 — IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE (2001)

Favorite track: “Sea of Teeth”

IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE was Linkous’ answer to critics who deemed his music too morose, a fair reaction after GOOD MORNING SPIDER, Sparklehorse’s darkest album. But in my view, this is only in name. It’s true that IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE, with its Tom Waits, PJ Harvey, and other collaborations, at times serves a more upbeat experience than its predecessor. More importantly, however, it channels the sadness into something musically richer, less skeletal and more overwhelming in its emotional communication. “Sea of Teeth” is a wonderfully understated song that slowly but surely builds, by sheer repetition and slight modulations, into a cathartic rumination. IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE doesn’t quite have the offbeat bangers of Sparklehorse’s best albums (“Comfort Me” is “Sea of Teeth’s” optimal companion), but it’s deeply moving.

#3 — DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL (2010)

Favorite track: “The Man Who Played God”

DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL, a collaboration with Danger Mouse, was the last album Linkous completed before his death, although it released shortly after his suicide due to a vague legal dispute with distributor EMI. This star-studded record features a different guest vocalist for each of the album’s 13 tracks. The only repeat is David Lynch, on the stellar “Star Eyes (I Can’t Catch It)” and the closing titular track, while Linkous himself only sings on “Daddy’s Gone,” in duet with Nina Persson of The Cardigans. But Sparklehorse’s presence is inextricable from DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL. If I didn’t know that Linkous was capable, if unwilling, to write pop tunes, I’d think the record’s more accessible bent could be credited to Danger Mouse. Instead, I think DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL’s incredible soundscape results from the meeting of two formidable music minds. While the album is full of catchy yet at times unsettling songs, like my favorite “The Man Who Played God” featuring Suzanne Vega, by pure mathematics of the number of people involved, it’s not unadulterated Sparklehorse. And when Linkous let loose of his own accord, that’s when the deeper mysticism happened. DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL is a tremendous yet slightly less than potent listen.

#2 — DREAMT FOR LIGHT YEARS IN THE BELLY OF A MOUNTAIN (2006)

Favorite track: “Don’t Take My Sunshine Away”

Although it took five years for Sparklehorse to make a follow-up to IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE, about half of its length was written during the sessions for that album. The resulting offshoot, DREAMT FOR LIGHT YEARS IN THE BELLY OF A MOUNTAIN, is nevertheless superior and nearly Sparklehorse’s best album. If Linkous was pulled in a few different directions while mostly retaining his core ethos on DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL, he was more effective in funneling his warped perspective of popular music in the satisfying Sparklehorse mode for its predecessor. DREAMT FOR LIGHT YEARS IN THE BELLY OF A MOUNTAIN really drives home for me how timeless the band is; there’s a clear through line to the alt sphere of the late ’80s and early ’90s, sure, but even then, Linkous was never defined by trends. Considering the ecosystem this album was released into, its purity is all the more impressive. DREAMT FOR LIGHT YEARS IN THE BELLY OF A MOUNTAIN attunes me to a spectrum of soulful existence, one full of pain but also dark beauty.

#1 — VIVADIXIESUBMARINETRANSMISSIONPLOT (1995)

Favorite track: “Rainmaker”

VIVADIXIESUBMARINETRANSMISSIONPLOT, Sparklehorse’s first album, was not the result of some immaculate conception. Linkous had played in numerous bands and under various monikers before he made this nearly perfect record of driving alt rock, dark folksy whisperings, and what I can only describe as a jangling expansion of madcap circus music (the last is fitting considering the album’s cover). VIVADIXIE (as I’ll refer to it from now on) isn’t exactly “all killer no filler,” as I like to say for my favorite records. But its interludes, far cries from the sound or even concrete form of the beautiful “Rainmaker” as the best example of a few top-tier tracks, serve a crucial purpose in thickening the roiling stew of Linkous’ influences and innovative reinventions of them. They warp the album into something darker and richer than contemporary examples of what may be regressively billed as “indie” or “alt” rock. Sparklehorse’s greatest effect is serving up ironic weirdness as earnestly as possible and nowhere in their body of work is that more evident than on VIVADIXIE. I had the pleasure of revisiting Sparklehorse’s entire discography while on long drives with nothing to think about (if I may mix references to ’90s alt bands). And that circumstance afforded, or perhaps reinforced, certain epiphanies. The only I care to articulate here is that life is fleeting, often dark and sad. But it is possible to channel our disappointments and innate incapabilities into beautiful art, as Linkous did. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an all-conquering process for him, but there’s no denying he was, for a time, better for it, and we certainly are today. VIVADIXIE is Sparklehorse’s best album and the best example of the band’s brilliantly mind-bending ways.