1001 Albums Summary

The Eagles start these little reviews. Which is quite apt, really, as one of my earliest memories of being in a record shop is picking up an Eagles CD (not knowing who they were) and trying to convince my mum to buy me it. She didn't. Anyhow, I know a fair few songs from this album - who doesn't? - but somewhat surprisingly have never listen to the thing as a whole. It reminds me a little of get-togethers my parents would have with their friends around our house when I was little. A seven or eight year old me would sit on the stairs in my pyjamas, hoping they'd let me down and have a piece of cake, and some of these Eagles records would be part of a compilation that played, drowned out by the chatter. Historical hangovers aside, I thoroughly enjoyed listening to it on a run through the woods. This ain't my typical cup of tea music wise if I'm honest, but you can't doubt the ability and talent on offer and I can admire that. Hotel California might be a little overplayed but wow, it is still some record.

LG. Hotpoint. BOSCH! This album is a welcome smash in the chops from the get go and I was locked into it from start to finish. It's notable that a lot of the issues that Ice Cube puts out here are right back in the news at the moment with the BLM movement. And it feels like, really, fuck all progress has been made on many of them in the two decades or so since this was released. I particularly cringed at the angry black man put downs that were brought to light and sought to de-intellectualise the real issues at hand. Politically charged, irreverent, insightful and funny, what I love about this album is that it's so soulful, too. The production has lashings of love poured all over it and I just loved the loops and beats. In short, it's a banger. Ice Cubes used to only feature as part of my Martini preparation, but now they might also have a place in my record collection too. Also, I do like the bit about Ice Cube having his way with a wee lassie, dropping her off home and then grabbing a fat burger for himself at 2am. A good day indeed.

There's an admirable straightforwardness about this album. It's called Crosby, Stills & Nash, by Crosby, Stills & Nash and the cover features an image of Crosby, Stills & Nash. The last of whom looks a little bit like my mate Dave might if his razor was removed for two years or so. This is no doubt a great record. With some wonderful songs and an undeniable craftsmanship about the whole endeavour. But at the same time, it's also the kind of album that I can only admire from a distance. Dipping my toe in, rather than dive-bombing right in. Try as I might, I just couldn't get too deeply involved and gripped by it. It was more background listening that something that submerged the soul. Glad I listened to it though, and I particularly liked the track Guinnevere.