Description
P J Harvey – Rid Of Me – 180 Gram Vinyl Record
Re-issue of the original 1993 album Rid Of Me, featuring the singles 50ft Queenie and Man-Size
Pressed on 180gsm vinyl
Released on April 26, 1993, Rid of Me is the second studio album by British singer-songwriter and guitarist PJ Harvey, and it remains one of the most visceral, confrontational, and critically acclaimed records of the 1990s. Following her 1992 debut Dry, which introduced Harvey as a force in the UK alternative rock scene, Rid of Me elevated her from emerging talent to full-fledged icon of feminist rage, musical daring, and emotional intensity. Produced by Steve Albini, known for his raw, unfiltered recording style, the album is a brutal and beautiful collection of songs that captures PJ Harvey at her most uncompromising, experimental, and emotionally feral. It has since been heralded as a landmark of alternative rock, post-punk, and feminist expression, solidifying Harvey’s status as one of the most influential artists of her generation.
Rid of Me is defined by its minimalist yet explosive arrangements, its jarring shifts in dynamics, and its fierce, unvarnished production. Recorded mostly live to tape with Albini at the helm, the album strips away polish in favor of visceral immediacy. Guitars buzz and screech, drums pound with primal force, and Harvey’s voice veers from whisper to wail, embodying both vulnerability and vengeance. It’s not an easy listen, but it’s not meant to be. Rid of Me is a raw nerve of a record—unfiltered, unapologetic, and often deliberately uncomfortable.
The album opens with the iconic title track, “Rid of Me,” which begins in near silence before erupting into an abrasive, explosive chorus. The song is a perfect encapsulation of the album’s core tension—quiet and loud, seductive and violent, delicate and dangerous. “Don’t you wish you never met her?” Harvey snarls, flipping the narrative of possessiveness and obsession on its head. It’s a brutal inversion of romantic tropes, filled with sarcasm and menace, and delivered with chilling conviction.
Other tracks like “Legs,” “Rub ‘Til It Bleeds,” and “Snake” further explore themes of body politics, gendered power dynamics, sexuality, and rage, often through fragmented imagery and visceral metaphors. There’s a physicality to Harvey’s songwriting here—songs feel like they’re written in blood and bruises, in fever dreams and whispered threats. Her guitar work is deliberately jagged and sparse, leaving space for her voice to command full attention.
“Man-Size,” one of the standout tracks, is a blistering declaration of autonomy and defiance. “I’m coming up man-size,” she sings, challenging masculine dominance while adopting its posture. The song is a triumph of performance and intention, marrying sarcasm and sincerity in a way that became Harvey’s signature. It’s followed by “Man-Size Sextet,” a rearranged instrumental version performed with strings, revealing a classical undertone beneath the ferocity.
One of the most haunting moments on the album is “The Dancer,” a slow, hypnotic track that closes the record with a sense of mystery and devastation. Harvey’s voice here is less aggressive but no less intense—filled with longing and loss, it’s the emotional mirror to the album’s otherwise blistering defiance.
Throughout Rid of Me, PJ Harvey interrogates the power structures of intimacy, gender, and desire, often presenting female subjectivity not as passive or romantic, but as aggressive, conflicted, and unapologetically complex. She draws from a range of influences—blues, punk, noise rock, and English folk traditions—but blends them into something wholly original. The result is a record that doesn’t just express anger or pain; it reclaims them, recontextualizes them, and forces the listener to confront them head-on.
Steve Albini’s production is essential to the album’s sound and impact. Known for his work with Big Black, Pixies, and later Nirvana’s In Utero, Albini brought a live, unfiltered sonic approach that let every creak, breath, and feedback spike exist in the mix. Rather than “producing” Harvey in the traditional sense, Albini captured her performances in their most visceral form, resisting studio sheen in favor of sonic authenticity. The result is a record that feels raw, claustrophobic, and confrontational, but also fiercely intimate and real.
Rid of Me received widespread acclaim upon release and has only grown in stature over time. It regularly appears on “best albums of the 1990s” lists and is often cited in discussions of feminist music history, grunge-era innovation, and post-punk aesthetics. It stands as a defining statement of the alternative era—alongside works by Nirvana, Hole, Sonic Youth, and Björk—but it also stands alone in its refusal to conform to any expectations of gender, genre, or sound.
Rid of Me is not just a landmark album in PJ Harvey’s discography—it’s a seismic, transformative record that reshaped the landscape of rock music in the 1990s. It is a document of emotional violence and vulnerability, of gender and power, of artistry untethered by commercial polish or male gaze. It remains one of the most daring and unflinching works in modern rock history, as thrilling and unsettling today as it was the day it was released. If Dry introduced PJ Harvey to the world, Rid of Me made sure the world would never forget her.
Brand new, never played and still sealed in the factory plastic
Track Listing
Rid Of Me
Missed
Legs
Rub ‘Til It Bleeds
Hook
Man-Size Sextet
Highway ’61 Revisited
50Ft Queenie
Yuri-G
Man-Size
Dry
Me-Jane
Snake
Ecstasy
