Hipster music snob that I am, the depths of my musical knowledge is riddled with blind spots. For example: until last week, I realized that I had never knowingly listened to Dinosaur Jr. 

I’m not sure what the reason behind this omission was. I’ve been hearing the name for decades. I’m well aware of their pioneering of the noisy guitar/slacker vocals archetype that inspired generations of indie rock bands.

And perhaps it was the breadth of their influence that made me feel as if I had already heard them. I’ve been listening to Dinosaur Jr. distilled through hundreds of artists for years. I’ve been a huge fan of Weezer, Built to Spill, Modest Mouse, Kurt Vile, and any other number of groups that looked to J Mascis & Co as a guideline.

But for whatever reason, I’ve never drunk from the source.

When I went to Florida last week, I added most of their discography to a Spotify playlist to listen to during my travel time. And immediately, I saw the error of my ways.

When I stopped at the record store, the hardest choice was picking which one to buy first. The choice of You’re Living All Over Me was driven by the price, but I’m not sure there’s really a wrong answer at this point.

While most of Dinosaur Jr.’s catalog is filled with consistently catchy guitar rock, You’re Living All Over Me was the breakthrough. Plenty of groups had been making their guitars as loud and noisy as possible—that is to say, Sonic Youth had been around for half a decade. But Dinosaur Jr. was the first to co-opt that aural chaos into a palatable pop music. Barring the ten seconds of buried-in-the-mix screaming at the very beginning of the record, J Mascis’ vocals never push past a slacker drawl.

And unlike the no wave groups tweaking their guitars through similar strings of effects or the sludge metal bands indulging in social anarchy, Dinosaur Jr. put those textures to pop song structures, putting chaos to order. Stripped from the fuzz pedals and pounding drum set, all of these songs would sound at home in a college cafe played by a stoner kid with an acoustic guitar.

It’s a simple enough formula: Jesus and Mary Chain, Velvet Underground, and The Ramones had all filtered happy pop songs through grit and noise, but Dinosaur Jr. brought a textural sensibility that changed the game. Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine specifically named this album as a major influence on their otherworldly Loveless. Kurt Cobain and Billy Corgan both gushed over it. Even Sonic Youth would soften their edges to the point where they sounded an awful lot like this record (it helps that J Mascis and Thurston Moore’s voices sound similar).

Just because an album is influential doesn’t mean it’s listenable to modern ears though. Many of the metal bands I love list the Melvins as an influence, but for the life of me, I haven’t been able to get into them. Similarly, Psychocandy sounds thin and abrasive due to its dated production.

But You’re Living All Over Me is just as catchy as ever. From the opening thrashing of “Fury Little Things” to the lo-fi chaos ballad “Poledo,” every song is an absolute hit. I’m reasonably sure each track here has been used in a skate video at some point.

In all, You’re Living All Over Me is more than just a jumping off point for the alternative music scene. It’s a classic that still retains every ounce of its original charm.