The Afghan Whigs - Up In It (LP) - Blue Clear Vinyl

Up In It catches The Afghan Whigs right on the cusp, in that crack between scrappy Midwestern underground and the Seattle sound that was about to swallow the world. Released in 1990 on Sub Pop, it was the Cincinnati band’s first for the label and a statement of intent. Greg Dulli and co had already cut their teeth with Big Top Halloween, but this is where they step into a bigger room, bruised and hungry, with songs that lunge rather than stroll.

A lot of that bite comes from the way it was captured. Jack Endino, the Seattle producer who helped shape Nirvana’s Bleach, recorded the album in his backyard, so to speak, with a live-to-tape rawness that suits the Whigs. You can hear the room in the guitars, Rick McCollum’s ragged chords scraping against John Curley’s bass while Steve Earle drives the kick like a heartbeat that won’t settle. Endino doesn’t polish the band, he frames them, letting Dulli’s voice sit just high enough to cut through the din. It sounds like a band playing in front of you, not a band wrapped in cotton wool.

Dulli is already Dulli here, leaning into desire and spite and the messy bits in between. The famous soul fixation that would bloom on Congregation and then explode on Gentlemen is present in the way he phrases lines, half croon, half threat, but the backdrop is tougher and meaner. When people talk about the Afghan Whigs as a bridge between punk and classic R&B, this is one of the records they mean. It stomps in boots, not dress shoes, yet there’s a heat that doesn’t come from distortion alone.

“Retarded” is the cut most fans point to, a snarling tangle of rhythm and regret that shows how the band’s dynamic works when the tempo surges. It’s catchy in that way hard songs can be, with a chorus that sticks even as the guitar lines fray. The rest of the album follows suit, shifting between mid-tempo churn and sudden accelerations that feel like someone slamming a door. There are no wasted moves. Even when they ease back, the tension stays wound.

What often gets overlooked is how unlikely this lineup was on Sub Pop at the time. The label was famously Northwest-facing, yet it saw something in this Ohio crew and backed it early. Up In It made The Afghan Whigs one of the first non-Pacific Northwest bands associated with that catalogue, and it paid off. The record broadened the Sub Pop palette and set the Whigs on a path that would take them to major festival stages and, a few years later, the cult classic status of Gentlemen. Listening back, you can hear the connective tissue between US indie circuits of the late 80s and the more ambitious, soul-laced rock that followed in the 90s.

For anyone crate-digging, Up In It vinyl is the way to feel the impact in your chest. The low end breathes, cymbals smear in the best possible way, and Dulli’s vocal takes on a grain that digital can sand off. Sub Pop has kept the title in circulation over the years, so it’s not a white whale, but a clean copy still feels like a find. If you’re in a Melbourne record store on a Saturday arvo and you see that familiar Sub Pop spine peeking out, grab it. And if you’re not near a shop, it’s easy enough to buy The Afghan Whigs records online without missing lunch. There are plenty of Australian sellers moving stock quickly these days, and vinyl records Australia pages often highlight Sub Pop classics for good reason.

The Afghan Whigs vinyl collection has a satisfying arc, and this is the second chapter, where the character really comes into focus. Stack it next to Congregation to hear the band add colour and swing, then jump to Gentlemen to catch the full bloom of their dark soul theatre. But don’t treat Up In It as mere prelude. It stands on its own as a lean, volatile rock record that still sounds alive, proof that a band from Cincinnati could take a quick detour to Seattle, plug into Endino’s wires, and come out with something that felt at once of its moment and weirdly timeless. If you’re building a shelf of The Afghan Whigs albums on vinyl, this is essential, a record that turns up loud and stares you down.