Isn't Anything is the debut studio album by Irish-English rock band My Bloody Valentine, released on 21 November 1988 by Creation Records.

Its innovative guitar and production techniques consolidated the experimentation of the band's preceding EPs[1] and would make the album a pioneering work of the subgenre known as shoegaze.

Kevin Shields then desired to return to the band's avant-garde roots and began to explore the possibilities offered by the studio facilities available after having signed to Creation Records in 1988.

"[14] Taylor Parkes of The Quietus described the album as "livid, lurid and lucid," and called it "the shattering racket of the moment, an audio snapshot of the overwhelmed senses, a noise like nothing you've ever heard, but everything you've ever felt.

"[16] Anthony Carew of About.com described its style as "atonal, desconstructed, free-noise guitar playing" and noted that it had an "ethereal, spectral quality that radically reconfigured the predominant paradigms of rock'n'roll.

"[19] Isn't Anything's lead single "Feed Me with Your Kiss" was released in October 1988, backed with three outtakes from the album's recording sessions: "I Believe", "Emptiness Inside" and "I Need No Trust".

"If Isn't Anything had been made by Americans", wrote NME reviewer Jack Barron, "My Bloody Valentine would be greeted as the new messiahs of dreamrock guitar.

"[14] AllMusic editor Heather Phares referred to Isn't Anything as "the most lucid, expansive articulation yet of the group's sound" and said the album "captures My Bloody Valentine's revolutionary style in its infancy and points the way to Loveless, but it's far more than just a dress rehearsal for the band's moment of greatness.

"[1] Entertainment Weekly reviewer Ken Tucker reflected on Isn't Anything in 1993, saying "the passion of their playing – the rafter-shaking guitar chords, the baleful vocals – attests to their faith in romance, betrayal, and dizzy crushes.

Uncut's Stephen Troussé wrote: "[I]n rock algebra you might deduce that they'd worked out some new equation involving the barbed languor of the Mary Chain, the speedfreak urgency of Sonic Youth, and a dash of The Vaselines' sauce – but none of that accounts for the savagely sensual results.