Don pilots this album into the sky for an 8 minute Pie, then grabs the yoke and flies the plane straight into the ground. Once the music dies on track 1 it's not coming back to life. Don tries CPR on the Pie-duplicate Everybody Loves Me, but its just chest compressions on a corpse. Beyond the timeless Pie singalong, I think Don also deserves a shout out for creating the "rock is dead" narrative that comes up every decade, and then rock reinvents itself slightly and is hyped as returning. Rock is really dead now, though, and that's ok because we still have the Mayonnaise. C-

I came in heavily biased to this one, and really wanted to let loose with a 5. Blondie is a blind spot for me that's always seemed ripe for uncovering some real tasty gems that perhaps even the most elitist music snobs wouldn't fuck with because they were massively successful and led by a woman. I held my hand out with 5 fat stars. It was there for Blondie to take. Hit play. Blondie didn't want the 5. By the middle of the album Blondie reached in for the stars but I quickly pulled my hand back to my hair and said "too slow!" I gave a star away to my neighbor who stopped by for dinner. I put another star on the WalMart grill and cooked it for 45 minutes. Blondie pretended not to care about the leftover stars. I think we're all just ok with how things worked out. B-

There are lyrics-first listeners. There are music-first listeners. I think lyrics-first listeners are more rare, and I bet all of them love Leonard. We music-firsters won't give the lyrics the time of day unless the sound hits right. Leonard is a wonderful poet and this album sounds pretty bad. I dated a girl who thought I'm Your Man was one of the sexiest songs of all time. I can feel the message, but why deliver it over a Casio keyboard? My only guess comes from the banana - the hilarious banana Leonard is eating on the cover in a cool suit and shades. Maybe age taught him that there's a joke underneath everything serious and heavy. If you want to deliver heavy lyrics, maybe it makes more sense to drape them in a funny soundscape, complete with ironic-cheesy backing vocalists. Deep poetry, banana music. B

Elliot is the secret mycelium that links a group of friends from high school-college-hamlin and carries the weight of rarely verbalized pain and melancholy that naturally accompanies our lives but doesn't pair well with PBR and conditioned masculinity. Over the years I've often protested playing Elliot, not because I dislike his music (I love it), but because it's such a vibe shifter. At least for me it is. Sometimes it takes a Herculean level of mental and physical exercise (+substances) to catch a positive current, and Elliot can sweep that away in 3 minutes. Powerful guy. He was there (self titled) in Matt's Lakeway house one night playing beer pong in the garage. Bizarre contrast. He was there (Either/Or) in Nic's mom's apartment in Toulouse taking a nap with 6 other dudes in the afternoon. Perfect fit. He was there (Figure 8) in Nic's Volvo on the mushroom hangover drive back from the Tacoma-GH walk. That's when somethnig really connected. I got home to my new place with Rico (who I didn't really know yet), closed my bedroom door, drew the curtains, and put Can't Make a Sound on repeat for hours. Rico was very concerned, but said nothing. Understanding guy. Favorite Elliot album. Melodies so sweet they almost sweep away the sour. Tricky guy. A+

What was missing every other time I've listened to Elvis Costello (and thought "sheeesh, this guy needs to stop singing for just a couple measures")? This Elvis Costello sounds so much better than the other Elvis Costello I've been listening to. I think The Attractions could be the game changer. Somewhere between punk and pub. Bringing just the right amount of heat to boil over. Enough urgency to feel insecure. They toy with chaos but never take it there. The bass player is all over the neck. Keyboard guy brings some strangely-necessary 7th inning ballpark energy. Drummer is unimpeachable. The whole thing works with Elvis' nonstop intelligent, lyrical sushi train. Toss in some reggae-ish business (Chelsea) for good measure and I'm converted. A+

Love the way the drums were recorded. Tight, big brass. Tasteful guitar. All the big hits - standards now. Is there anyone else past or present that can step to this? Al Green? Sam Cooke? Have you heard the Otis live at Whiskey A-Go-Go album? Oh baby boy. I never put classic soul/R&B on at home. Aren't we all supposed to play Otis while we prep a pot roast dinner for our sweeties? Aren't we all supposed to drink wine and slow dance to Otis in candlelight with bellies full of pot roast? Why the hell is there a white woman on the cover? A

Dusty's in Motown. Dusty's in Manhattan. I don't know much about Dusty. More familiar with her brother Buffalo. But one thing I know is she's English. With a name like Dusty, it was her destiny to take a trip to America and cut a soul record in the south. This album really knocked it out for me. Some beautiful chord progressions. Tons of expression and range in her voice. I bet the studio musicians are a bunch of hired guns that have a power name like the Wrecking Crew or Muscle Shoals. I love when they go double time in "I Can't Make it Alone". Why wasn't this album huge? Maybe America had moved on from blue-eyed soul at this point and on to the Eagles? A great discovery in 2021. A

This must've been around the time when all the British classic rockers decided to move to the countryside, grow beards, and wear double denim. Listen to folk, listen to jazz, steal George Harrison's wife, etc. It's a pretty unimpeachable album front to back. First song sets the scene and glides seamlessly into the second. Each track gets to jam and breathe. It's got all the right ingredients on paper - I can't put my finger on why I didn't feel it. Winwood is all over the keys, all the time, so perhaps I'm missing the guitar? Percussion is strong. Best guess it's probably the sax and flute - pretty tame, especially the sax. I'd imagine this helped open the door to jazz rock, but the jazz doesn't rock on this one (cc: Chicago). B-

I independently listened to this album last week, in the pre-1001 days where free will guided our album choices, so I'm locked and loaded. This album is the top of the mountain. The peak new wave achievement: sparkly synthesizers everywhere, giant spritely pop songs, nonstop infectious hooks, that metallic flanger vocal effect, a devastatingly handsome collection of Englishmen (who actualy wrote and performed the whole album). Plus the real hero: BIG BOOTY FRETLESS BASS. And the Chauffeur is a cool spooky song. I imagine this one will be divisive among the Mayo crew, but you gotta respect the top of the genre even if you don't love the genre. I don't fuck with disco, but Donna Summer rules. A

Incredible album, but check out those lawn chairs. I could post up in one of those, polish off that Coors tallboy, and complain about shit with Neil for hours and hours. I wonder what his neighbors in Malibu thought of this photo shoot. This seems to be the cool-music-person's favorite Neil Young record. It's also sad as hell, but somehow not depressing. How do you do it Neil? Is it because your soul is actually 75 years old and you have the voice of an unstable grandpa? When you're young and complain it's self centered and privileged but when you're old and cranky it's wise and sometimes funny. Neil Old made a fantastic record here. A-

I was recently watching Jeopardy reruns and the prompt was "The Big 4 of thrash metal are Metallica, Anthrax, Megadeth and this quartet with a murderous name". Anyone who knows the answer gets an iTunes gift card good for downloading The Black Album (and replacing the mp3s they got for free off Limewire). When it popped up on 1001 I thought "this is not what I'm looking for on this Friday morning". When Sandman kicked into gear I was psyched up-ah. Somewhere between Unforgiven and Nothing Else Matters I was tenderized into a trance-ah. The last third of the album was a tune out-ah. They're doing their thing. C-

I want Sonic Youth to be a jam band. The world needs a noise rock jam band. I like Murray Street. They jam on Murray Street. An album called Goo could definitely jam. There's some jam, some noise, lots of indifference, some cool as hell Kim Gordon. I really liked it, and it brought me zero joy. It took two days to get through it. Maybe it's been too packed of a work week and work weekend. The end of Disappearer really does it for me. I love how they use suspended chords. Imagining a Sonic Youth live show in 1990 NYC. Is it a shared experience? People are not outwardly expressing emotion. Is there a hidden, individual trancendance that each person is experiencing in stoic isolation, shoulder to shoulder? Are people just thinking way too hard?

Took this one in on i5 to Skamokawa and am perplexed by the heavy traffic during COVID, and how this album made it among the 1001. Perhaps I don't grasp how truly big of a number 1001 is. There must be so many albums that do folk, do folk rock, do ballads, do the James gang thing on the last track, and do it better. We're gonna see so many more British white guys doing this and doing it better. Rod himself did it much better on his next album, for which I will throw down ample stars. Only a hobo is a great song. Maybe I just get grumpy in traffic. B-

Hell yes. It's a perfect album. Beautiful soft balllads, explosive songs, trippy arrangements, huge hooks too. Even just they way this album sounds is perfect. The warm tape. It must've been recorded together live rather than track by track. A goddamn masterpiece. At one point I thought, maybe it's too long, but then realized Spotify added 6 songs to the end and doubled the album lenght! Favorite tracks are the trippiest - Third Stone and Are You Experienced. I had a quintessential stoner moment with that song, just the right slight high and pulled into my driveway and it came on. Sounded so good I put it on repeat, louder and louder, until Rico came outside a bit worried. We all know Jimi's considered the greatest guitar player, largely on the back of his soloing. I think more music critic ink needs to be spilled on his rhythm guitar chops. He would curl his thumb over the top of the neck to fret the low E and do these percussive melodies with the other four fingers below the neck. MASSIVE HANDS. A+

Viagra blues

Until now I never realized how much Robert Plant wishes his voice was an electric guitar. The Page/Plant call and response is on full display here. Everything they do here they do better in future albums, whether it’s softer and folky (III), riff heavy (Physical Graphitti), propulsive (II), or extended (Presence?). I don’t care if they “stole” songs from American bluesmen. B

1001 albums that to listen to before you die and/or before considering putting Let England Shake on deck in Spotify: play the White Album 1000 times and Clair de Lune once. Then die. Don't listen to Let England Shake. It's entirely about death anyways and 100% hell. I thought I liked PJ Harvey, but maybe that's just 90s PJ Harvey. Or maybe Liz Phair? I was absolutely fine living the rest of my life without listening to this one.

Tried but I've never found a way into Animal Collective. I remember thinking a decade ago this is a band I'm supposed to like, music people are supposed to like, indie people are supposed to like - probably around the time Pitchfork gave Merriweather a 9.8 or so review. Couldn't find a way in. I still feel the same way now. It's really well made, the production and structures are fantastic, hypnotizing, looping, swirling, disorienting like staring at the album art too long. I get the Pet Sounds comparisons. I just don't feel it. Best guess is that there's not much of a groove. These are mechanical, layered rhythms in a grid. Imagine Panda Bear booty dropping to any of these tracks. The other thing that comes to mind is the NYC indie community they came out of where bands were borrowing from global music. Their peers had an interesting take on "world" music and rhythms - pop/punk (Vampire Weekend), baroque (Dirty Projectors), religious (Yeasayer). Where you at AC? B

It's the music business, and business is GOOOOD. The Eagles deliver a masterclass 9 slide Power Point presentation on music as a multi-generational investment strategy. Was Woodstock a bit scary? Did the Summer of Love go too far? Do you wanna lay down in the SoCal sunshine with Henley/Frye? Do you prefer khakis? EAGLES. They defined 70s California rock. They wrote hook after hook. Walls of vocal harmonies. This record shines like a perfect stack of gold bricks. New Kid in Town is a near-perfect song. The double guitar solos on Hotel California are iconic. The OOoooOOOs on Wasted Time are heavenly. It's too easy to hate the Eagles. It's too easy to like the Eagles. I can accept music and greed living side by side. It's a great album. B

Tried playing Anthrax in a glass house on the Oregon coast and the ocean disapproved. Anthrax is a serious infectious disease caused by gram-positive, rod-shaped bacteria known as Bacillus anthracis. Anthrax can be found naturally in soil and commonly affects domestic and wild animals around the world. Although it is rare in the United States, people can get sick with anthrax if they come in contact with infected animals or contaminated animal products. Anthrax can cause severe illness in both humans and animals.

A very music-wise friend called the Sex Pistols a punk rock boy band. Apparently they were hand picked and assembled by manager, and there's more to the story, but the conversation was on a train car in the Orient Express and I was a wee bit drunk. It changed they way I hear their music. I've always thought they seemed like an act. They give themselves funny stage names "Rotten" and "Vicious" and call their band a combination of two "dangerous" words. This album apparently revolutionized music and kicked off punk rock, but it doesn't really feel like punk rock to me. I thought the whole point of punk was a DIY, pared down approach to rock that allowed raw expression to rise above musicianship. Being loud isn't necessarily raw. Snarling anger isn't necessarily expressive. I sound like an old guy. It's a cool album from a boy band who played a style of music that was different than anything else played prior, except the Stooges. I think I have a bias against all UK bands. B-

Let's go to Vito's bababay! Sounds less like a chicken shack and more like a martini shaker. We must hear jazz so much diffently now compared with when this was contemporary in 1960. Maybe in its time this sounded really wild like a fox tearing up a henhouse. Sometimes I think about Kerouac's hurricane SF jazz club descriptions and wonder if we were in that same club in 2021, would we be gettin loose, or would it sound like this? I guess it's all contextual. I listened to to Back At the Chicken Shack while writing work emails and eating baby carrots, one hard boiled egg, a teriyaki beef stick, green beans, and 2 string cheeses. It was very very pleasant to listen to, and I feel a little more pep in my step (and my gut) thanks to this experience. C+

It feels goooooood. Unique sound that seems more substantial than other disco. Deep grooves. Attitude. White guy dancing at my standing desk. Sustained songs - they're not rushing anything. I thought A Warm Summer Night felt repetitive but I think that's exactly the point - it repeats the same romantic pattern like the evenings it describes. My Feet Keep Dancing is six minutes of joy, chimes, and incredible bass. The songs are long and the album is short. I love it. A-

My brother Keith loves Faith No More, and their offshoot band Mr. Bungle. He was 11 in 1989. What IS IT that people like about them? Maybe this is a microgenerational thing where only those of a specific age range, at this specific time, get it. Metal, chanting, rap, classical strings, horns, and a lounge number to cap it off. They're certainly fearless when it comes to genre swapping. Fusion is cool. Their successors did this much better (RATM, Chili Peppers) and much worse (Limp). Someone's gotta bravely walk the out on the branch so the others in waiting can climb the tree. With No More Faith, you have no meaning. With no meaning, there's no fear. With no fear, you make a bad album. C-

Love the album cover art. I think that's the gateway to this album - the skeleton key to see through the perfect arrangements, pristine sound. These watercolor people in chairs are the target of the Dan's sharp satire. The "enlightened" (Bodhisattva), the complacent (Razor Boy?), the privileged (Show Biz Kids). The songs are catchy and complex. The solos don't waste a single note. The drums are air tight. After finally listening closely to the Dan (thanks 1001, and Josh) I think I've figured out the element that's always turned me off about them. They're so far above it all. They're not invested. Their lyrics drive a spear into imperfect people, but their music is perfected beyond criticism. They refuse to show their flaws while deconstructing the flaws of everyone else. It make sense in a pop-psychology sense. The most outwardly critical people are secretly the most self-critical. I asked myself, "well what about Father John MIsty, he criticizes absolutely everything that's ever existed (Pure Comedy), and you love his schtick". I answered myself, "well, good question, but he also is willing to risk his own pride and burn himself down with the terrible world" and then I stared at the middle distance for a 30 second count. I enjoyed the hell outta this record, especially King of the World. B+

Golum! At the evil wall! Zepp is either backdoor banging your girl or en route to Mordor with a 20 sided die. The holy trinity of hard rock, Tolkein, and sleezy sex somehow come together like butt cheeks on this record. Side question: do you remember hearing people point out that Jimi Page was more of a "black" guitar player and Jimi Hendrix was more "white"? Am I making that up from my subconscious? The thing that strikes me most pleasantly about this album is that in the midst of all the heavy Led, there's a pretty love song "Thank You" full of gratitude and a beautiful organ outro. One evening in Gig Harbor when I was about 13 my dad and I sat down and listeded to a bunch of records from his college years. All of his albums had "Garb" written on the cover in sharpie. This was the first one he played, and it's left a deep impression. Lots of scratches during "Heartbreaker" and my dad said "that was a fun party" and smiled. That was the start of my classic rock phase. That and the Almost Famous soundtrack. Thanks Cameron Crowe. Thanks Dad. Landmark album for AER. A-

Really gotta be in the right mood for it. I remember one golden afternoon in our canoes on Ross Lake when I was vibing on mushrooms and fishing and Ashton blasted some sax-heavy Springsteen track and it really jetted me away to the astral plane. I've got a soft spot for music that works best for me in only very specific contexts. Sadly my small office isn't quite the right context for this album, but I still enjoyed it for the most part.

When this was big among the cool kids, I used to think it was a bit repetitive. Now I'm a bit older and think I understand dance music better, and the themes of this album. This is middle aged dance punk and at 36 in 2021 it was a melancholy delight. A

The Replacements always show up at the right time. This is the most perfect coming of age album I can think of. The sound is mid-maturing from punk to melodic rock. The lyrics are mid-maturing from teen humor to trying to make sense of all the heavy shit that just dropped with adulthood. Post-puberty, post-punk. Songs have huge range of themes: anger, disillusion, massive heartbreak, anti-consumerism, gender identity, angst, boredom, boners. Drunk and sloppy as hell the whole time. Unsatisfied and Answering Machine have always struck a deep chord for me. This time around We're Comin Out knocked me out. Did they create indie rock, college rock, post-punk, and alternative all in one album? I don't know the official lineage. Easy 5 for me. A+

Not what I was looking for in my musical listening experience at this moment. I'm sure they were very influential to the next generation of country artists. I considered adding a star if their tight vocal harmonies had anything to do with the Stevie Nicks & Tom Petty masterpiece "Stop Dragging My Heart:, but that's just conjecture, and these ratings are clearly hard science. I'll take half the vocalists and twice the soul and call him Hank. D

One, two, three, four! stars. If you have a sensitive kindvibe soul like me, punk rock can be hit and miss. The Sex Pistols were a miss - too angry and seemed pointless. The Clash are amazing - creative and global. NOFX - I wish I loved them so I could share in the experience with Matt and Nick, but I think I missed my opportunity to bond with them after HS graduation. The Ramones have always connected. I think it's because they know their way around a tune. 60s pop songs in a punk costume. Driving catchy songs back to back to back to back in 30 minutes. Same BPM the whole time. I wanted to give this a 5 but don't want to seem like a poseur, because deep down I'm a softy, not a punk. A

The early 60s seems like a bizarre time. A young, liberal JFK is elected and living the glamorous, innocent Camelot life. The most popular song was "Theme From A Summer Place" an orchestral instrumental that sounds like a housewife on valium walking to Mervins. In this context Muddy At Newport must've sounded like raucous satan worship. In 2021, not so much, with one exception - there's a moment about 1 minute in to "Feel So Good" where people in the crowd start yelling and for a moment you can hear the energy in the room and feel how it felt to be there live 80 years ago. I think I want live blues to feel like the scene in Black Snake Moan where Samuel L Jackson is doing that Mississippi hill country blues thing and beat up Christina Ricci is sexy dancing with all the men and women at the juke joint. But instead this was At Newport. C-

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the right to Party.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Music becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new music, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. A-

TIL Supergrass and Superchunk are different bands. Grass is not chunk and chunk is not grass. I saw chunk at the Funhouse once and it was ok. Grass would've been superfun. Superenergetic. Almost the kind of youthful energy that can make an old 36 year old man feel exhausted, but not today. They sound like many bands I can't recall from the early 2000s that came aftergrass. Maybe Hot Hot Heat? While the US was getting into alternative and aftergrunge, these British kids were playing fun punk that's not afraid of a giant happy major chord in the chorus. Seems very out of its time but pretty cool in 2021. Not sure when I'll play this again, but maybe if live music returns I'll hear "Alright" playing lightly in the background after the house lights come up. B

Sounds fresh as hell in 2021. Beck is a legend. Three decades of genre mashing, artistic relevance, and mass appeal, and somehow it seems like he doesn't get his due. Maybe its the Scientology. This album has some real high points, some scattered filler, but the blues-breakbeat-spoken-verse-sung-chorus thing feels reeeal nice walking along the waterfront on a sunny spring day. I'll always be a Sea Change guy, and the most tuneful stuff on here (Ramshackle, Jack-Ass, New Pollution) connects the most. B+

Stills grooves. Neil mopes. Crosby psychs. My man Nash agape loves. Perfect record except Country Girl, which for some reason gets a dramatic dirge/organ treatment. I love that Crosby has turned into a notorious shit-talker in his old age. That there's a massive feud among legendary classic rock musicians that 50 years later is still burning hot and completely irrelevant. Neil Young: "Crosby should write an introspective book: ‘Why People Won’t Talk to Me Anymore.’ He made a lot of great music for a long time. I don’t know what happened with David. I got nothing to say. I love Stephen. I love Graham. If a reunion happens, it would be a surprise. I won’t close the door on anything. I can hold a grudge with the best of them but only if there’s a reason for it.” Graham Nash: “I don’t like David Crosby right now. He’s been awful for me the last two years, just fucking awful. I’ve been there and saved his fucking ass for 45 years, and he treated me like shit. You can’t do that to me. You can do it for a day or so, until I think you’re going to come around. When it goes on longer, and I keep getting nasty emails from him, I’m done. Fuck you. David has ripped the heart out of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.” David Crosby: "Kanye you disgusting piece of shit for doing that to Laura Nyros music and then spewing your incredibly dumb trash talk over it". Mellow out fellas. Listen to your own records from 50 years ago. A

Things I noticed: - Lots of Beastie Boys samples getting dropped in the tracks. Makes me wonder if the Beasties actually had credibility in the 80s rap scene - Ren sounds a lot like the lead guy from Jurassic 5 on "Something Like That". The guy who's not Chali Tuna. - Dre brings a surprisingly clean message on Express Yourself. A self-positive, anti-drug, pro-meditation, happy tune on a gangster rap album? What an odd duck on the tracklist - I've never understood why people clown on Dr Dre's rhymes. He seems solid. - Every track left me wishing Ice Cube would jump in with a yayeeYAYYEE, we be clubbin style. This album was fun ("If It Ain't Ruff"), I know its important, but I didn't have any interesting thoughts about it. B-

This is the region of psychedelia that has never been my cuppa tea. Circus clown music. People with undiagnosed mental health issues and access to recording studios but no access to help or treatment. Skip Spence comes to mind. Sometimes it's brilliant. Most of the times it's a miss for me. More open minded listeners can hear the genius underneath Syd's playhouse. Wish I could. Never could get into his Pink Floyd albums. Couldn't get into his solo stuff. Also why does this type of psychedelia get closely lumped with LSD? Listening to this on LSD would be rough. F

Cooooooool. Deep moody lounging. An overcast afternoon in Ibiza. The soundtrack that plays over a moody montage of parallel characters in an ensemble drama. Closing credits to a 2000s James Bond movie. I think I love this because its trip hop (whatever that is) without the chaos. It's smooth as hell, a bit disorienting (I really like the lyric "I know everyone I meet"), and sucks you into the vibe. It's a place I enjoyed spending an hour - introspective, somber, plenty of space, but also upbeat. The last track is the only thing that breaks their very serious dedication to maintaining this mood. Maybe a little more cosmic humor would make it perfect. Cooooooool A-

This double disc was on constant rotation in Wheatfields. Almost makes me wish we didn't have access to all music ever made all the time anywhere. I miss forming those deep relationships with an album that's only possible when you're limited to an armrest full of CDs. These days my attention deficit disorder and Spotify isn't a recipe for repeat album listens, let alone playing one 100+ times. Pretty much every second of this is burned somewhere in my head, so it really stood out when Spotify trimmed off the breaks between songs (presumably because saving 5 seconds per song racks up more streams?). The legend of this album is Dylan going electric in front of a bunch of uptight British folk purists, so what's cut out - the crowd's response, Bob's reactions - is a big hole in the story. I know I sound like a music snob, but the big moment where someone yells "Judas!", Bob says "I don't believe you", turns to The Band, says "play fucking loud!" and bangs out Like A Rolling Stone, is great, and is gone. I suppose that doesn't matter for 1001 though. Disc 2 is a perfect 5/5 A+ for me. Snotty, sloppy, way too trebley, raucous (for 1966) Bob. Disc 1 is somewhere lower - it takes a rare patience to love a 9 minute Tambourine Man. A

Me as hypothetical record label executive "The name is great. The kids are into peace and love right now. Love sells. But I don't hear a single." Unique instrumentation with some gypsy guitar and classical strings. Battle horns. Interesting chord changes. I get why it's acclaimed. But where are the hooks, man? B-

Kindof a bipolar album. 50% is pretty standard issue 80s Brit rock close to the Cure or the theme song to Pete & Pete. 50% is jangle with a dance beat, and its rad. I'd like 100% jangle dance. A whole album of it with seamless transitions between tracks. Just let it play and a whole hour breezes buy, feeling good, getting shit DONE at work, and GROOVIN. I most appreciate the last two songs for not being afraid to jam in circles for 9 minutes each. B

Iggy makes me proud to be an American. Other countries may be better in governance, diplomacy, unity, equity, deep history, or supporting basic social and economic rights, but we produce some of the best weirdos, outcasts, and nutjobs and pay them lots of money to express themselves. The way Iggy's vocals are recorded on this album has always seemed a bit tame to me, like he's recording a voiceover, or calling in from a separate state. I had to look up a live performance for a reminder of how wild he was, and found footage of him standing on a crowd and flinging peanut butter everywhere. I Wanna Be Your Dog pretty seems to have created the template Queens of the Stone Age (just swap in smoother melodic vocals). The droning tracks drag on. Great album, but even better things are to come from Iggy and the boys. If Funhouse comes up on 1001 I'm ready to drop big stars. B

Play Wonderwall! I think the British went all in for Oasis with this album, greatest band since the Beatles, etc. We Americans needed the broader range of their much better follow up record, and precious Wonderwall, a timeless acoustic torch song that countless aspiring guitar players would try to cover and use to get laid. I thought this album was great in patches. Some catchy songs. They keep the same sonic palette for the whole album - the big wall of chiming guitars are always ringing. It never lets up. There's no pauses for contrast. Play Wonderwall! Play Champagne Supernova! Play Cast No Shadow! The lyrics are full of convenient rhymes, but I really like the couplet on the final track "your music's shite, it keeps me up all night". B-

After a string of rock albums, this was refreshing, and pure joy. Front to back not a dud on the record. Stevie writes these incredible chord progressions that are beautiful, complicated, but sound simple. I think he was playing around with some interesting electronics and synthesizers on this one. along with whatever that e-clavichord thing is on Superstition. Interesting textures. I looked up the musicians who performed on this and was surprised to see it's mostly Stevie. Stevie on drums, Stevie on keys, Stevie playing keyboard bass. Stevie singing backup for Stevie. The last song, and I think one of his best, was all Stevie on all instruments. Wonder what Stevie thinks when he hears Dylan play the harmonica like he's blowing on a grilled cheese sandwich? One last thought that might be only interesting to me - I was really struck by a blind man singing "I can't wait to see your face inside my door". A

Great name for a person. It takes swagger to call yourself an obese name and make it cool. Fats Domino. Minnesota Fats. Matt's old cat JJ. I really like Domino's locomotive shuffle. Really stands out compared to other 50s rock n rollers I've heard, which is basically Little Richard and Elvis. I'd put this on again while making eggs on a Sunday. B

I like Elvis, but I love problematic, late-career Elvis - the Elvis that abused laxatives, went on incoherent quaalude rants, married a teenager, flew in his private jumbo jet at 3am to rural Kansas to get a PB and banana sandwich. The idea of Elvis as a King in head to toe sequins who began his concerts with the theme from A Space Odyssey. This is just Elvis. Which is fine. Clear standouts for me are "I'll Never Let you Go" and "Blue Moon", minimal, soaked in reverb, and deeply deeply haunting. Interesting that he pioneered (white) rock n roll but its his ballads that really stand the test of time. B-

I tried my best to maintain my America-does-it-better/UK-hating 1001 persona. I tried telling myself "they also made Exile and Let it Bleed, and you can't give out 5 stars to 3 Rolling Stones records, that's too generous." I failed on both fronts. Some of the prettiest songs they've ever written (Moonligh Mile). Some of the most problemmatic (Brown Sugar). Some of the best jams (Can't You Hear). Some of the dirtiest blues besides Exile (You Gotta Move). All wrapped up in cover art from Andy Warhol with a functioning zipper and tighty whities inside. A+

The Rolling Stone's bass player said he would've quit the band to join Manassas. The musicians' musician supergroup. In 2011 I found this record in Tacoma for $1. I thought it was good then and think it's good now. Double record, each of the 4 sides has a different theme and a heady name for each: the Raven, the Wilderness, Consider, and the Chicago Bears. B

This was a fun surprise. I love the production. Very early 90s hip hop but also really creative and aged well. It's like they combined 80s drum machines with a Sly Stone style band. Were they the pioneers of "conscious" rap? Taking on christianity, ecology, poverty. They also predicted the dawn of the 90s dreads, except that it would instead be white Phish fans and mom's on vacation in Mexico. Best lyrics "I want to be sleeping in you, I want to be inside you, I want to be sleeping deep in you, I want to be in you". Got it. I like the main guy's delivery. Very sing-songy and jazzy. Especially on Tennessee, which is a tight song. There's only one downside to all of these appealing things - it can be corny as hell. It's so difficult to take on giant societal problems and not come off like a preachy cheeseball. I tried to think of artists who came later that would potentially cite this album as an influence, and it's a motley crew - Common, Black Eyed Peas, G.Love, Jack Johnson? It's cool with me B+

Cool ass grocery store music. Mervins music. Grand Theft Auto music. Felt great walking around LQA with this in my ears. Cold sunshine. Got a sandwich from a deli. Bought some cottage cheese. Ate the cottage cheese. C+

I remember buying this in high school at a Sam Goody with high hopes, then getting bored with the repetition and just waiting for the moments when ODB or Method Man would show up - the two of the Wu that were the funniest and had the most dynamic voice and flow. Years later I feel about the same way, but want to show growth and personal development so will say some good things. Anytime there's more melody in the production beyond drums and a 3 second piano loop, I'm in. The string of songs from Chessboxing>Nuthing>CREAM>Method is unimpeachable. This is way harder than their West Coast rivals. The Shaolin concept is cool as hell. Chillin chillin. B

HARD. I can imagine reviews from 68 using words like explosive, muscular, unrelenting. The lead guitar tone is perfect 60s psych. I want whatever pedals this guy's using. And his musical abilities. They're borrowing a lot from Hendrix's vibe and then taking it even further and heavier. Each song feels like the intro to Foxy Lady but extended out and even sloppier. So good. Here's the inevitable part where I go negative - the singer is rough stuff. Janis Joplin's uncle that talks too much. No subtlty, no dynamics, just pterodactyl yelling over every incredible jam. I would put down big stars if this thing was instrumental. B+

Frank Black Francis Pixie. No better scream among all the screamers. Soft verse loud chorus. Frank's language slang of syllables shastashee velouria havalina kadoona hiyanoom. Gen X galloping Boston beach Pixie. Looks nothing like an indie rock star. More like someone who would interview Marilyn Manson on MTV, or operate a local car wash. Modest Mouse loves you Frank. Bossanova is missing Surfer Rosa jagged edges and Doolittle hooks but it's still great. B+

An unsung masterpiece record from The Eagles. The big vocal harmonies shine like they always do, but on this record they're bent around more interesting chord progressions. Since when could they rip guitar solos like this? Who knew a band like The Eagles could write such clever lyrics that aren't about senoritas or driving cars? There's not a single song on this album I would skip. The uptempo numbers cook. The downtempo numbers swagger with LA schmaltz. This could be the high water mark for all 70s soft rock. A+ P.S. The Dan continue to fascinate me. They want to be avant garde. They want to rally against whatever is on trend in music at this moment (probably hard rock?). But they just can't help but write perfect pop hooks. No matter how many jazz chord progressions and flugelhorns they throw in, this is commercial soft rock at its finest. Pointed straight at the center of the American mainstream ear. I suppose its their debut, and on later records they perfected their pompous polish, ditched the conventional vocalist, and lost some of the raw, human feel that makes this album shine brighter than any 10th coat of studio wax could do.

I can't for the life of me understand why this album is on 1001. For lack of a better explanation, I'll once again blame the British for this album appearing on 1001 as some attempt to appease their colonial guilt. I'm guessing Baaba is from a West African country. I'm from a North American country. I respect whatever musical traditions they're bringing to the table, and I have a personal responsibility to bring an open mind and hear this music with as few hangups and expectations built up from 36 years of "western" pop traditions, but I sure as hell don't have to like this. Songs are repetitious, droning, no change in dynamics, no development arc. I found small pockets of beauty, but I can find small pockets of beauty in a sewage processing plant. What is the point of this album? Is it just to feel one thing (detached mild ennui) and feel that same thing over and over again until the album ends? Did Baaba Maal want their listeners to accidentally fall asleep at the wheel and plow into a dairy farm? Perhaps perhaps perhaps if I understood the language there could be a deeper emotional impact, but that would have to be some exquisite poetry to overcome the doldrums of the music. D-

Never heard this one but seems like a transitional album for them, moving on from their prog roots (e.g. "Ogre Battle" from their previous record) to big arena rock and their anthemic destiny. The vocal harmonies really do it for me. Four voices in concise, majestic arrangements, fit into a compressed metal tube. The Queen sound is born. Brian May seems to be enjoying playing around with heavy delay, and the guitar solos sound rad repeating onto itself and creating percussion. For the first time realizing Queen probably had a big influence on 80s glam rock. I bet Eddie Van Halen loved Brian May. Bigger picture question - when is arrogance welcome in music? People like Freddie Mercury and Mick Jagger (and even Boston bad boy Steven Tyler) can strut and pomp all over a stage and I love it. Their inflated egos can blow up a stadium and it's fantastic. But why is it such a turn off when a Johnny Rotten or a Bono put their arrogance on display? Maybe it's an authenticity thing. Anyhow, in the end, this album is the soundtrack to a Broadway musical about an elf queen (chaotic good) and a lightning dragon. B

Cool psych. Less bluesy than the one before it, but still very bluesy, thanks to good ol Eric. All songs are very short. No jams. Lots of fade outs. Very English. Very 1967, Great record. Confession: I've never really been a Clapton fan. I don't understand why the English tagged walls with "Clapton is God" back in the heyday. Maybe it was satirical proto-Banksy move. I've never heard much character or personality in his guitar playing, or seen much character in him as a person. He's like the shy, reclusive guy that doesn't take too many risks or put himself out there, but somehow is a magnet for attractive women because it plays to some fundamental desire to "cure" him. (This is a tangent that's been a hangup for me since puberty, probably because it contradicts the effort=reward maxim I was taught at an early age. It's unfair for me to project this onto Eric, and all that Eric has contributed to the genre of rock from it's 50s roots to it's end circa 2009). I think the best thing Eric's ever done is that acoustic album from the 90s with Tears In Heaven and that coffee-shop version of Layla. B

I imagine historians would agree that recalling a popular style from 10-15 years is too short of a time for an official renaissance. This is a solid album that doesn't make sense in 2008. By this point Kanye has completed his college trilogy and I want Q-Tip to be part of moving it forward rather than a throwback. The production is smooth as hell J Dilla jazz. Q-Tip's delivery is smooth as hell onomatopoeia. I wouldn't hesitate to put this on in the background of a low key beach gathering or a pickleball tourney, and not worry about having to skip any songs. Only concern would be getting hypnotized into thinking it's 1993 and drifting into grandma's kitchen. B-

At some point in college I remember a google or Yahoo! search for "bands like Arcade Fire" and Belle & Sebastian came up. With that framing, I was disappointed with their gentle sound and affectless vocals, and naturally put them on the shelf forever, except for a few enjoyable spins of The Boy With The Arab Strap. After listening to this record, I don't feel like I missed anything special with them. This is the soft corner of indie that I have a knee jerk reaction against, but there's no good reason. To go pop psychology on it, I think they make me think of a side of myself I don't always welcome - overly sensitive, mild, modest - and don't need a soundtrack for. It reminds me of seeing The Mountain Goats with Matt and Nick, and leaning to Matt and saying "these guys have no spine" (which btw I regret on a few levels, but most of all for poisoning a nice show with positive energy). I was too into Queens of the Stone Age at the time, B&S's polar opposite. The irony of this review is its exactly the type of inward rumination that Belle & Sebastian would write about. In the spirit of self acceptance, this is a lovely album. Pretty tunes. Fits in some odd space between Nick Drake and Morrissey. Somehow not emoting becomes emotoing. It's light. It's a bit precious. It's forgiving. It's sunny outside. B

During the panini I discovered you can regrow green onion stumps if you place them in a small amount of water in indirect sunlight. Green onions forever. If you put this album in water and indirect sunlight it grows a bud light and a easy going attitude. Great BBQ music. C

Good goddamn, I wanns be in that room, sloppy drunk, right next to the sax player. Josh may not be a live album guy but I'm hoping if there's any album that can convince, it's this one. Or maybe Cornell 77. I love that live albums recorded back in the mid 60s didn't isolate the music from the audience. Soundboard recordings sound great and clean but miss the whole premise of a performance for an audience, and this one is rowdy as hell. All I could wish is that his songs were a little more varied than the pop doowoppy swing stuff and this could be one of the best live albums around. B

It likely comes as no surprise this isn't my punk cup of tea. Reason number 1: one dimensional anger. Reason number 2: not a single melody, just yelling. I had a terrible temper as a 5 year old. I punched a couple holes in my bedroom walls. My parents had a tough time knowing how to handle it. Who knows why I was angry. It generally felt like some form of injustice, but who knows what specifically. I probably didn't get something I wanted and lost my temper frequently. I think 5 year old Ashton would've loved Minor Threat and whatever vague injustices they're getting ornery about. C- Postscript: straight edge is funny as hell. Especially violent vegan straight edge shows at noon on a Sunday.

Big classic rock! Bigger Who sound, now with (new!) synths. Whoever was controlling those synths had a real nice sense of touch and tone. They fit right in naturally. I enjoyed this one. The anthems, the stripped down jams, the love songs. Going Mobile is cheesy and from what I can tell, a song about RVs. When John Entwhistle died awhile ago I remember a critic praising his basslines - because Pete Townsend didn't solo much, and stuck to big rhythmic strumming, this left space for ol Entwhistle to go wild on the bass. He's all over the fretboard, way high up on the neck. Great sense of touch and tone. Combine that with Keith Moon's mayhem, and no sense of touch and tone, and the Who's rhythm section really cooks. Big classic rock. Big songs. I'm going B+

It's 2002. Rock is back again baby! Here comes another "The" band ready to ride the hype train with a fresh take on an aging genre. But what comes next is more than unexpected, it's sea shanties. It's polka, reggae, klezmer, and punk. It's not very good. It's The Coral. Their name evokes tropical seas. They are a pirates, sailing from foreign land to foreign land, stealing the unique musical riches of each country, pillaging the local harvest, and shitting it all onto a record. D Postscript: In my ever-increasing musical nationalism I'll point out that these dudes are British, talented, likely white, and possibly tone deaf to the fact they're "borrowing" music from the queen's former colonies

AER: I didn't like this album. Morrissey: "Rejection is one thing, but rejection from a fool is cruel" C-

In the interest of time, and not rambling on negatively, I'll borrow from Hady's reaction to this album: "Disney karaoke". My reaction: "if the Flaming Lips were normal drama kids in HS and didn't have wild ass Steve Drodz". C-

What a lovely relief from the previous albums. I hadn't listened closely to Candy Says before, but holy trans that song is so bittersweet and beautiful especially the final lines. The whole album is pretty, and it sounds like they're authentically having fun. Even the moody murder mystery song - the closest thing to their experimental previous stuff - sounds a bit playful among the stereo poetry jumble. If I had to program my mind to sync with one album, it would be this one. Tasteful. Well paced. Open eyed. Accepting. Empathetic. Authentic. Energy-giving. What a goddamn delight. A+

First impression: I think Lost in Translation could be a top 5 all time movie for me. Sure it's touching, funny, understated, but the unsung hero is the soundtrack. Was enjoying but halfway through knew I was missing something...it was volume. Once the bluetooth speaker was off and the headphones were in, this album transformed. Rich reverb soaked wall of guitar. Simple poppy melodies. Perfect. Done. "A" record. P.S I think there's a musical family tree that seeds with the Ramones, branches to The Jesus & Mary Chain, leafs to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and ultimately dies and drifts to the ground with BRONCHO.

Wings fly the thinnest line between 70s rock perfection and cheese. I guess that's part of the appeal at this point in time. Big orchestration. Tasteful synthesizer. Sounds a lot like ELO in places. Straight down the middle, beautiful songs, but deceptively complex here and there. That's Paul's magic. I'm split on this one. It's possibly the best thing he made post Beatles (sorry Ram)? It's a lame duck with clipped Wings? B+

A stone cold classic debut. The pitched up soul sample Kanye production is on full display. He's got something interesting or funny or hypocritical or clever to say on every single track. The skits are a bit corny, but it's 2004 and skits were still a thing at that point in hip hop. Seems like Kanye was insecure/aggrevated by higher education, eh? You can almost draw a line between some of the "think for yourself" messaging here and full on MAGA and "slavery is a choice" Kanye 15 years later. Kanye's contradictions are what elevates him above other rap legends for me. It really comes home on the tracks with Jay-Z. Where Jay-Z uses his verses to basically say "I'm the best", Kanye rolls through racial profiling, fate, and godliness in the same space. Plus he's more musical in his delivery, and I'm a sucker for melody. A

Never heard of em, but I loved this one. Sparse production but whatever drum machine they're using sounds gooooood in a Subaru. Most interesting thing: What U Waiting 4 is wild. Is that rap+house music. Hip house? House rap? Seems way out there for the time, and really works. Somewhat notable: Josh I hope you heard the hooga chaka sample. Midway through I was going 5, but then the album kept going. And going. And it all was still great, but once Tribe Vibes was done bumping the Outback down a dirt road I was ready for a podcast. B+

I remember not liking Hole back in '94 but I was a delicate late bloomer, afraid of music that sounded angry and dangerous, and perhaps shouldered with some level of misogeny that teaches 90s boys that rock is for men. Most of this still remains true about me. But this isn't about me it's about Courtney Love. I will not mention her deceased husband. She's killing it on this album. Her voice sounds perfect. Catchy melodies over distorted guitar. Angry and dangerous. Sounding very authentic. Very fed up. Even on a peaceful breezy day some room has opened in my barricaded heart to let in the darkness. But not that much room. B-

Goddamnit Bauhaus. It's 80F on a Wednesday, the sun is high, the birds are chirping, and I wanna listen to LA BAMBA. I've been one album behind on 1001 for weeks, and I want to catch up so I can chop it up with the Mayo crew. No one wants to chat about Bauhaus the day after Bauhas was supposed to be reviewed. I try not to do this, but cheated and read Bauhaus' Spotify description, which says they're the founding fathers of goth rock. Well Bauhaus, get your architecture straight. Bauhaus is quirky and utilitarian and has nothing in common with Gothic style. Your music is Dada. C-

LL breaks new ground and pioneers "sexy rap". NWA talks about bitches. Beastie Boys want girs to do their laundry. LL is here to wear a Kangol hat give your girl a dozen orgasms. Fun and very consistent album. B

1001 is showing off it's dirty diaper British teeth with this one. David actually sounds pretty fresh in 2021 with this electro-folk thing. Not a million miles away from Folklore, and in a few rare spots, In Rainbows. Still squarely nostalgic and 90s at the same time. Takes me back to listening to 103.7 The Mountain in my dad's aquamarine Saturn coupe with a spoiler. If only to have known in those moments that one day I would inherit that sexy car and that all adult contemporary radio stations would cease to exist. This album was consistently enjoyable from start to finish like a grande Starbucks drip coffee with plenty of cream and the NYT Monday crossword on my lap. B

In 2009 I spent a decent amount of musical bandwidth trying to understand electronic music.I especially wanted to "get" techno and tap into the weird joy that stoic Germans experience after dancing for 2 days straight in an abandoned East Berlin factory, but I never got in. House music, though, was much easier to feel. I loved today's album. It's fun as hell. Not at all challenging. Very standing desk dancable. Production is bright and welcoming. It's easy to anticipate the loud-soft transitions - you already know where each track is going even when hearing it for the first time. It all seems very connected to some natural inner programming. Does a truly great album have to challenge the listener? Can consistent good vibes dance music be considered great? Why the hell not. B+

Ramble Tamble! My favorite all time CCR song - a big psychedelic journey that's always stood out from their swampy catalogue. That plus an 11 minute Grapevine make this their best album for me. Who'll Stop the Rain reminds me of rain delays at Rainiers games, even though I think it's about politics. Fogerty and baseball are forever bound (put me in coach!). Some of the 50s ooby dooby business is an instant skip, but otherwise a near perfect album. A-

Don pilots this album into the sky for an 8 minute Pie, then grabs the yoke and flies the plane straight into the ground. Once the music dies on track 1 it's not coming back to life. Don tries CPR on the Pie-duplicate Everybody Loves Me, but its just chest compressions on a corpse. Beyond the timeless Pie singalong, I think Don also deserves a shout out for creating the "rock is dead" narrative that comes up every decade, and then rock reinvents itself slightly and is hyped as returning. Rock is really dead now, though, and that's ok because we still have the Mayonnaise. C-

The Boatman is Eeyore and wants you to slow down, you kangaroo. Telling moment: Brompton Oratory had a similar chord progression and "prosidy" to Keane's smash hit Somewhere Only We Know, so I put that song on and ended up enjoying myself much more than any Boatman track. But Boatman is not for enjoying. Boatman is art for careful consideration. Keane is chiming beauty for forgetting reality for a minute. Boatman is poetic trudging and mining reality for meaning. But I have to make PowerPoint presentations and finish work in time to take my pickle boat out on the river before the sun sets. I can't mine for meaning while making slides. The Boatman inside me wants to be an actual boatman. C

Really interesting album. It was almost able to sustain that interest over the course of the full hour runtime. My hour with OM in the D included a banana smoothie, taking care of business in a sawdust composting toilet, a 4 minute shower, 25 minutes of exercise for my old man back, and doing the dishes. Given this was 1981, I'm assuming this album had a big hand in defining the 80s synth pop sound. The vocals, the instruments, the recording, it all sounds very very 80s. Sometimes it's a soundtrack to Stranger Things. Sometimes it's a big proto Duran Duran pop song. May never put this on again, but thanks for the spin, 1001. B-

I won't deny Michael Jackson's significance, and that he's got some damn catchy tunes. That said, this is not good music to listen to while writing emails.

Elliot is the secret mycelium that links a group of friends from high school-college-hamlin and carries the weight of rarely verbalized pain and melancholy that naturally accompanies our lives but doesn't pair well with PBR and conditioned masculinity. Over the years I've often protested playing Elliot, not because I dislike his music (I love it), but because it's such a vibe shifter. At least for me it is. Sometimes it takes a Herculean level of mental and physical exercise (+substances) to catch a positive current, and Elliot can sweep that away in 3 minutes. Powerful guy. He was there (self titled) in Matt's Lakeway house one night playing beer pong in the garage. Bizarre contrast. He was there (Either/Or) in Nic's mom's apartment in Toulouse taking a nap with 6 other dudes in the afternoon. Perfect fit. He was there (Figure 8) in Nic's Volvo on the mushroom hangover drive back from the Tacoma-GH walk. That's when somethnig really connected. I got home to my new place with Rico (who I didn't really know yet), closed my bedroom door, drew the curtains, and put Can't Make a Sound on repeat for hours. Rico was very concerned, but said nothing. Understanding guy. Favorite Elliot album. Melodies so sweet they almost sweep away the sour. Tricky guy. A+

I'm not versed enough in electronic music to know if or why this album is significant. I do know the first track sounded like a not-so-great mashup of Neil Young and Ace of Base. Things got better after that, but not remarkably better. There were moments that got locked in a fun, sunny groove. The singer's voice is not what I'm looking for in a poppy dancy music experience. Maybe we'll all hear this album again at a very mellow outdoor post-pandemic rave. Probably not. D

Funny the first repeat artist on 1001 is muthafuckin Metallic-AH. Justice for All-AH. Longer tracks-AH. Bigger jams-AH. Thrashier thrash-AH. Less melody-AH. Technically precise-AH. Respect their intellectual property-AH. Vague commercial-libertarian messages-AH. I like better this Metallic-AH. Too same for too long-AH. C+

What an interesting ride that was. Thanks 1001 for providing the motivation to listen to this whole album with no skips or breaks. Thanks Mike for taking some big risks. This thing went all over the spectrum from motononous repetition to straight up weird human growling. Pretty in many spots. Very moving in two spots. "TUBULAR BELLS". Mike, you're no Beethoven but I respect your modular experimental soul. B

I came in heavily biased to this one, and really wanted to let loose with a 5. Blondie is a blind spot for me that's always seemed ripe for uncovering some real tasty gems that perhaps even the most elitist music snobs wouldn't fuck with because they were massively successful and led by a woman. I held my hand out with 5 fat stars. It was there for Blondie to take. Hit play. Blondie didn't want the 5. By the middle of the album Blondie reached in for the stars but I quickly pulled my hand back to my hair and said "too slow!" I gave a star away to my neighbor who stopped by for dinner. I put another star on the WalMart grill and cooked it for 45 minutes. Blondie pretended not to care about the leftover stars. I think we're all just ok with how things worked out. B-

Pls more Dancehall less Halloween. Only one dancehall track. Lots of minimal spooky business. Not the sonic pallete I'm looking for unless happen to be exploring a tunnel underneath London, looking for reggae-techno-Slimer. C+

In a different frame of mind I could find it easy to roast this album, but today it sounds pretty fresh. The talk-sing is endearing. The lyrics are engaging (although some of the knight-queen story was a bit cheesy). I love the production - the crystal clear guitar, the voice in front of the mix, the tasty synth flourishes. Strong 80s sound. Some really pretty moments. I enjoyed the thought exercise of doing a quick mental inventory of people I know that are likely to be closet Suzanne Vega fans. They're all introverted women that want more out of life than the present provides. Not necessarily in a depressive sense, but hopeful and striving. I think that sums up the feeling of this album. B+

No no no no more blues. No no no no amount of collaborations can save this album of late 80s CPAP blues. D

If the Ramones hopped into a Cadillac, put Johnny B Goode on the 8 track, and drove straight into the B-52's love shack, it might sound like this. Thanks, X, for pushing punk in new directions. The rockabilly stuff is not my cuppa tea, but the rest was solid. I have a feeling their lyrics deserve more attention. Perfect soundtrack to Tony Hawk Pro Skater II. B+

Never have I ever listened to a Lenny Kravitz album, let alone Lenny's debut album from 1989, a time when pop music was having an identity crisis and fracturing in exciting "alt" directions. I get the feeling Lenny thinks he's invented a whole new genre of Sly Stone+Prince+Beatles and here to save us all. Essentially ignoring that the 80s ever existed, Lenny mines the 60s and 70s, extracts a wheelbarrow full of rock and funk influences, and stuffs it all into his shiny leather pants. What a weird time. The Black Crowes tried the same strategy. Both were wildly successful, and also criticized for being derivative and nostalgic. Now anyone can do it with no consequence. We're in end times. History no longer exists. Greta Van Fleet and Robert Plant are homies. C

There are lyrics-first listeners. There are music-first listeners. I think lyrics-first listeners are more rare, and I bet all of them love Leonard. We music-firsters won't give the lyrics the time of day unless the sound hits right. Leonard is a wonderful poet and this album sounds pretty bad. I dated a girl who thought I'm Your Man was one of the sexiest songs of all time. I can feel the message, but why deliver it over a Casio keyboard? My only guess comes from the banana - the hilarious banana Leonard is eating on the cover in a cool suit and shades. Maybe age taught him that there's a joke underneath everything serious and heavy. If you want to deliver heavy lyrics, maybe it makes more sense to drape them in a funny soundscape, complete with ironic-cheesy backing vocalists. Deep poetry, banana music. B

Repeat review from Jan 28: Track 1 cool reggae feel and "Feel Flows" swelling vocals. Track 2 "I started something I couldn't finish" could be an accurate description of this 1001 albums exercise. GF in a coma and I know its serious is a lyric I've always loved and still makes me giggle. Big drama songs "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me". Some light grooves with harsh lyrics "Unhappy Birthday". Trouble connecting wiht Morrissey's dark-ironic-but-also-honest lyrics. So much talk of death and dying (heavy) contrasted with melodies and vocal delivery that floats and lilts and delicately flutters (light). Perhaps this contrast is what really connects with the Smiths-devoted? I'll take the weirder American version (REM) instead. B-

I doubt this album would appear on any 1001 list from outside the UK. Post-The Bends. Pre-Coldplay. Peak "Britrock". It's almost as if each song was inspired by a different 5 second clip of High & Dry, and then built up from there. I mean that as a compliment. This album sounds great - the arrangements and production make the simple songs sound fantastic. I loved this stuff 20 years ago. Not for me now. But AER in 1999 doesn't have a drivers license and needs big chorus, big strings, big Yorke-voice to feel like he's feeling whatever he imagines people are feeling when they are having deep feelings. AER in 1999 gives this a A-. AER in 2021 gives this a C+ and recommends Gentle Stream by The Amazing instead.

Method Man is so damn charismatic. None of the tracks are catchy. The production is minor and spooky. The rhymes are dark. But somehow he's charming through the whole thing. Maybe I'm biased from all his funny movie cameos. I thought half the album was killer, and the other half mellowed into the background. But it's really contextual. 90s hip hop doesn't pair well with deskwork. B

Bob takes a wild leap out of Woodie Guthrie's overalls, expanding to new jangling, hallicinating, electric territory. The folk rock cooks. The folk folk is some of his best (It's Alright, Ma). It's early 1965 and Bob is far ahead of the pack with a machete, and the Rolling Stones still have bowl cuts. A+

Thank you FLC for paving the way for G Love (hell yes) and LFO (Chinese food makes me sick). C

What was missing every other time I've listened to Elvis Costello (and thought "sheeesh, this guy needs to stop singing for just a couple measures")? This Elvis Costello sounds so much better than the other Elvis Costello I've been listening to. I think The Attractions could be the game changer. Somewhere between punk and pub. Bringing just the right amount of heat to boil over. Enough urgency to feel insecure. They toy with chaos but never take it there. The bass player is all over the neck. Keyboard guy brings some strangely-necessary 7th inning ballpark energy. Drummer is unimpeachable. The whole thing works with Elvis' nonstop intelligent, lyrical sushi train. Toss in some reggae-ish business (Chelsea) for good measure and I'm converted. A+

Hear the Texas. Hear the the garage walls. Hear the ELECTRIC JUG. This album would still be good jugless, but with that chaotic, quadruple-timing whoop-whooper in the mix this thing goes next level. The entire album feels urgent, almost panicked, like a bad LSD trip. Like Roky had paranoid dreams of a twister about to touch down. The jug will save you, Roky. B+

Light a candle with Leonard. Stare into the center of the flame, where there is only darkness. Blow out a candle with Leonard. Happy Leonard birthday. Songs of mostly Hate with a few notes of Love. Leonard is hopeless, angry, jealous, and sarcastic. It's still beautiful too. I try to curate my musical diet to enable a life well lived, and rarely put this one on because it just doesn't have the Leonard redemption of the previous two albums. Where are Leonard's Sisters of Mercy? Has he had so many threesomes at this point that he's just over it? B

Without a doubt, one of the most delightful experiences grilling chicken thighs. We grill chicken thighs in bulk, sometimes up to a dozen at a time, and save them for convenient eating throughout the week. You can do a lot with pre-grilled chicken thighs. Spice em up. Roll em in a tortilla. Cube em and salad em. Gyro em. Curry em. Consistent, tasty opportunities to easily blend diverse influences onto a protein with mass appeal. Floats on through the body and comes out clean. A-

Mark E Mark Knopfler and the Funky Bunch bring the smooth rock and tasty slick guitar solos to people, while kindof singing, kindog talking. I was hoping to discover some gems, but instead was ushered into nothingness via Dire adult contemporary lullabies. He sure can play the guitar tho. C+

The English Television? Would've been funny if they called themselves the BBC. This album was pretty great, and it's too bad I kept thinking I should be listening to Marquee Moon instead. I wish I could temporarily erase all context and just enjoy this record in pure blank space. They're not that similar to TV anyways. The guitars are more classic rock here. The singer is more punk here. The songs are more straightforward. If Television didn't exist we'd all spend more time outside and this band would be The Only Ones doing this cool post-punk-alt-pop thing. B+

Unplugged was such a big 90s thing. Pretty cool there was a major cable network effort to strip down popular music and expose the underlying songwriting and poetry. It's almost taken for granted now with so many youtube outlets (NPR Tiny Desk). I don't think Aerosmith was pulling out the acoustic bass and delivering a sparing rendition of Dream On in the 70s, although that would've been a treat. I've never been a Nirvana guy. I wanted to be a Nirvana guy, especially when I first moved to the NW at age 13 and literally everyone else was a Nirvana person. When I was 5 I had a terrible temper and would punch holes in my bedroom walls. I think I got a lot of inner demons out early. Maybe I would've loved Nirvana back then and really scared the hell out of my parents. In the mid 90s Nirvana anger and outward apathy didn't connect. I liked Pearl Jam's tunes and underlying sense for triumph. Still do. I'm a softie. Give Nirvana the unplugged treatment and it hits different. The vocals come through more honest less ironic. The fragile sound invites sympathy. The live room feels more communal. The Man Who Sold the World guitar solo is absolutely perfect. But I can't do 14 straight tracks of it or else I'll start punching the walls of my mental bedroom. B+

It's hard to place this album in a box. It was gloomy. It was boring. It was also low-key engaging - the instrumental rave ups where especially nice. Is this just a dark metaphor for a material driven life? Death in Las Vegas. Death in Monaco. Aging in West Palm Beach. I feel no need to return to this album. Their one song on the Lost In Translation soundtrack is enough for me. C-

Is this a book on tape?

I don't believe goth industrial etc is that important. 1001 seems to insist that it is, and that we understand its pioneers (Bauhaus), prophets (Nick Cave) and bowel movements (Sisters of Mercy). D

It feels wrong to give The Wall a 4/5. It's a mammoth maximal space rock opera epic that shoots for the moon and actually hits it. Somehow they pulled all the grandeur, ego, storytelling, instrumentation, production, and vision together into a fully realized monument. So what if there are at least 4 Pink Floyd albums I'd put on before this one (WYWH, Dark Side, Animals, Meddle). Maybe I'm as disillusioned as the protagonist? A-

I imagined a backstory that this album was created for babies. Specifically for babies on their morning commute to finance jobs in London, wearing navy blue baby business suits, and all listening to Connected on big (for babies) over ear headphones. With that clearly established, this album is perfect. It's stone cold 5/5 star British business baby breakbeat. Minus 1 star for adult content. A

A handfull of super talented Canadians and Dylan move to the NY countryside, live in a big house together, and jam - morning, noon, and night - until they dial in this unique, haunting, soulful country folk style. They trade off vocals. It sounds like they recorded each track together live. It's beautfiul. It's boring. It's new. It's nostalgic. The organ is so good. Warbling Manuel and Danko are heartbreaking. It's considered a landmark album. For AER it's a real good one. B+

All I can say is I made it through the whole album, and I'm not sure if my appreciation or understanding of music, life, or Interpol has changed in any way. C-

I have a mildy interesting theory that every vocalist has a note they naturally sing over a given chord. A default pitch. Something to do with they way they hear music. It's the same with lead guitarists who often begin solos on the same note. The vocalist for Sleater Kinney takes it to the next level and sings the same note, at the same volume, at the beginning, middle, and entirety of every song. There doesn't seem to be any consideration for melody or dynamics or the music the rest of the band is creating. I'm pretty sure she only sings 2 or 3 different notes on the album. No dynamics. Just full throated and quivering every time. It's too bad because the guitars are really interesting and angular and melodic at times. See "Bring Her Candy" for the clearest example of the only 2 note vocals over interesting guitars. Break free from your default pitch. Give some new notes a try. At this point I should also do a self check for mysogyny and musical conditioning. If the vocalist were male would I find it less irritating? Would it sound like Sonic Youth? In the words of Shaquile O'Neil: "WE'LL NEVER KNOW". C

Elbow were one of a handful of bands I listened to in college while trying to discover/google: "bands like Radiohead". Elbow, Doves, Editors, Starsailor (?) all were in the mix. All of them had beautiful tunes, big beautiful production, and modest British moodiness. I imagine they all loved OK Computer, but mostly Karma Police and probably skipped Electioneering. Too harsh. I think that's the part I need from Elbow. Something a bit risky or harsh to pierce through the thick moodiness of it all. Maybe that's what Muse tried to do for them. I don't really know what I'm talking about. Do you ever order way more mediocre Thai food than two people could reasonably fit in their bodies, and then one of you is full after a reasonable quantity, but you feel a compulsion to pound the remaining phad see ew, panang curry, and fried rice, until you can barely see through the sedative fish sauce haze? I'm very full right now. The Seldom Seen Kid is beautiful, drowsy, overstuffed, ambien. B

Back in 2010 one of the rare times I listened to a major album the day it was released, first to last track, no breaks, with friends, and it blew me away. Maximum ego. Maximum production. Huge hits. Exciting features (esp Minaj). Engrossing from start to finish. Self indulgant, funny, angry, exhausted, obsessed, juiced up Kanye. Over the top in the best ways. Perfect album. A+

I was prepared to put this one on in the background and endure 40 minutes of continuous prog-opera (with an intense timeout for Ogre Battle), but somehow it was much better than that. It certainly helped to listen to this immediately after Dig Me Out, which was a melody desert. Queen delivered the tuneful bombast and middle earth glam drama that was absolutely essential background music for completing a NYT Monday crossword in the shirtless afternoon sun. I loved every track. None of them were annoying. It was a fully cohesive experience. Minus 1 star because it should take less than 40 minutes to finish a NYT Monday crossword. A-

Is this a perfect album? Every song is solid. Each is pretty and has a hook. Each stays faithful to the shared woozy mood of the album. The "soundscape" is beautfiul. I can't understand what the heck Nico is singing, no matter how long she draws out the vowels at the end of each phrase. But something about it all adds up to an energy-sapping experience. It's like trudging up a beautiful, steep sand dune and the view is no different at the top, just more dunes. Maybe Beach House + hangover + returning to desk work after river work is not the right equation. B+

TUBULAR BELLS! Jk. This was a the score to a 45 minute casual chase scene, on foot, in London, and no one is running. Somewhere between film noir, Good Times, and Mr Bean. Someone gave the Pink Panther a synthesizer. C+

Did not care for SOD in the 90s, but re-listening now with the wisened (and slightly more hairy) ears of a 37 year old, these guys were really next level. I lumped SOD in with Korn and Slipknot and even Limp Bizkit. SOD is playing in a whole different league. This is Rage Against the Machine territory. They're messing hard with hard rock. Persian scales klezmer polka metal. This is Queens Of the Stone Age territory hard rock. Multiple personality singer brings at least 4 characters into each song. The standard, pro-level metal scream. The playful high pitch jumpy elf. That OOOOUUUGH low yell that metal singers started doing in the 90s. The possessed opera singer. I think the lyrics are actually meaningful at times too. If I liked metal at all I would love this album. A-

A listening exercise in adjusting from opening surprise to a slow-building disappointing finish. Damn that clunky final song just by itself knocked a couple stars off this tree. Expectations are a killer. I had none going in. First track lifted up the prospect of a happy/sad 80s jangle gem. It was like getting a decent payout on the first pull of a slot machine, and then losing all your winnings nickel by nickel. But some people just like sitting at the slots with a vague feeling of potential. C

I think its cool when someone's first and last name both end in double letters. That's potentially the most stand-out aspect of this album. Expert songwriting that sums into something unremarkable. This is a softball tossed underhand straight down the middle. No spin. No mustard. No funny business. No affect. No risks. No fun. D

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fI2X9ZY35PM

You can almost feel where each song is going before it goes there. Haters may call this "predictable" but I call it a "goddamn good time". [Looks directly at camera to address Haters] Lighten up, Haters, this guy's name is Fatboy. He named himself Fatboy. Were you expecting restraint? Did you think Fatboy was gonna sit down at the control table and slowly, tastefully nibble and sample. This is a feast of repetition. A-

Good times. The Sledge Sisters kick it off with a song dedicated to Matt (He's the Greatest Dancer) and keep the floor at a light simmer for the whole album. I love the positive family and friendship vibes throughout - it's hard to pull off so much joy without seeming corny or blind. We Are Family I can't feel anymore since the it was covered countless times by 90s/2000s TRL diva ensembles at award shows, but that's not the Sledge's fault. Good times B+

Count Dracula & the Grave Diggers made a pretty fantastic record. This one took a minute to set in, but I think I get it, and I think I love it. It's pop music but with enough oddity and risk and satire to be called art rock. Maybe. Doesn't matter. The groove is there. The band is messy. It's a hit. 1001 doesn't require criticism but unprompted there's still a track or two that's not for me due to that English baroque circus nightmare aesthetic that leans heavily on harpsichord and tuba. I VANT to VASH your VINDOWS. I VANT to GIVE a FIVE but. A

On the first song you shoooowed so much potential Now I'm here hearing ooooonly shabeedah Do I have to tell you whaaaat I need you singing Not an AM station loooonely shabeedah Elvis you wrote this soooooo perfect and loungy I enjoyed every tuuuuuuune in shabeedah A-

Bar band Bowie? Bowie plays the pub? I don't know what this Bowie was going for, or what phase he was in (maybe good ol classic rock?), but I guess it doesn't matter. He's a legend but this one's a miss. C-

Fragile contents. Handle with care. Second B&S album on 1001 and I wish I was converted. Maybe once Arab Strap shows up sometime in 2023. I just can't get on board yet. I feel for you Belle. You're a gentle underdog. You see beauty and sadness in subtle corners. You still have the lightness of youth. You're a bit irritating to hang out with. Delicate stemware. C

If you love your mother, if you love your mother, if you really really really really love your mother. Jump, jump, jump, jump, jump, jump, jump, jump, jump. The first song rules. The second song I think Mariah Carey + ODB improved upon the sample. Overall, this was fun, and I assume innovative for its time. Scorpio was some cool as hell robot business. I didn't care much for the more R&B ballads, but the raps were fun in an innocent way. Almost sounds like it's written for toddlers in today's context. C+

Josh gave Bad 5 stars, so I'm assuming he gave Thriller 6. Pop masterpiece. Even the filler is killer. A

This is some Glenn Miller jazz that would get my grandparents tapping their toes on thick condominium carpet. Never heard this big band style Miles. I'm sure a cool jazz head can hear subtle innovation somewhere in the record, but to me this sounds like standard Duke Ellington Count Basie business with a few interesting flourishes and asides. Hard to imagine the same trumpet player making Bitches Brew a decade later. [insert reference to previous comments on Jack Kerouac and jazz sounding different in its 50s context]. This style of jazz is really nice, and makes for great background music for a podcast, but to me its like listening to Little Richard. I respect the origins of the genre but what the genre developed into is much more interesting. C+

Gary what is your prime directive? Why have you manufactured this album of sounds? Do you want us to feel technology induced alienation from the human "soul"? Is this a question you're programmed to understand? Gary do you have capabilities to receive gratitude? If so, thank you for Nine Inch Nails and Marylin Manson. Gary can you decipher sarcasm? C-

A college headphone staple for AER. What's the most beautiful moment of OK Computer? Doves (and I) think its the final chorus of Let Down. This is an entire album of final choruses of Let Down. Is it overproduced, sure maybe depends. Triumphant arrangements, generalized lyrics that point to victory, but with a voice that sounds like they lost the war. It's all a bit much, but can still feel it on a general level. B+

Just a happy crew of English kooks playing second wave ska. I don't think I found the correct album, but tried the compilation "Madness" because it seemed to have most of the right tracks. Our House is great fun. Feels like the rest try to catch a groove but can't. The ska is pretty stiff, but still a good time. 1 star each for helping pave the way for the American third wave of Reel Big Fish and MM Bosstones C+

After an endless British expedition through the desert with only IPAs to drink, 1001 returns to the land of the free and delivers a stone cold classic American record. Full of diesel, sleeze, arrogance. Every track is either perfect or imperfect and interesting. I think at some point recently it became fashionable to hate on the Doors, but that's silly. So what if the poetry is amateur. I'll stand up for you, Jim. You're the ideal brooding wild man. You have one of my favorite quotes on being fat "I was 185 pounds. I felt so great. I felt like a tank. I felt like a large mammal or a big beast. I could knock anybody out of their way." A-

Punk with enough psych, pop-ish hook, humor, and rhythm variety to keep this softy/punk-poseur on board for the entire 30 minutes. That was great. Whoever picked up the bass on Anti-Pope is great. No trace of whining. They even do a the British baroque carnival organ nightmare thing tolerably for a track. Tempted to give a 5 but I gave The Doors a 4 and now nothing is calibrated. A-

Heavy bias here because I've spent hours and hours with this album (and Blonde) and good ol Cole Cuchna via the Dissect podcast. Everything about this album - the open letter coming out backstory, the double meanings, the skits, the instrumentation, the album cover, the song sequencing, the themes - is considered and layered with meaning. But its also not tedious or cold. Restrained, surreal storytelling. Unique production. Cleopatra in a strip club. Features are sparse but exactly where needed- numb rich guy iambic verse from Earl S, extremely tasteful John Mayer interlude, show stealing Andre 30000. If I didn't have a deep history with Frank I'd probably score this lower, but I do so A+

Absolutely beautiful in every way. Immediately blended into the background. Floated around the room and harmonized with the hum of a small in-wall heater, struggling against the cold morning air. C

Full disclosure: there was no point in the last 72 hours to fully listen to this album. I was busy, but not too busy. There was free time in the early morning, or between meetings, or in the relaxing evening, or casually tinkering around on projects on the weekend, but there's no goddamn way I'm playing NIN in any of those times. I'm sure this album is great, and with a careful listen could be considered a masterpiece. I've been surprised to see Trent Reznor's name pop up on a few good film scores as well. A proper review would use describe NIN "uncomprimising" and that's inspiring to me - I can't comprimise any free time with this album. C https://open.spotify.com/track/2b73Q6Kl8Gh6Brb40lpLcr?si=46d6aa6d5a5c47e9

Perfect Super Mario soundtrack. Adderall anime jazz. Many of the songs feel incomplete or unstable with all the constant modulation, like standing on a slippery surface, or like being really Drunk. B+

Ooof. This one's a heavy load. Feels like it deserves another spin and a more dedicated listen to look beneath the hood. Just the voice and arrangements alone were affecting. I think I'm in. Hady had to put headphones on to block out Bonnie while cooking empanadas. It seemed like Elliot Smith with less catchy melodies and a more mature perspective. Bookmarking this to return to in deep dark December, then play NIN. For now a placeholder B+

Per Wikipedia: Quicksilver Messenger Service began as a SF-based horseback courier, but was forced to pivot their business to psych rock after an unfortunate sexual incident involving a large, valuable parcel and an Appaloosa. Tip of the hat to QMS for somehow, against all odds, squeezing a half hour of juice out of the 2 chord Bo Diddly beat and keeping it pretty interesting. C+ Also very interested to see Josh's review since he usually isn't a fan of live albums but has a special place in his heart for QMS.

Apparently required listening for using unusual time signatures (at the time). I don't mind a coffeehouse record, but this coffeehouse is a bit too academic. Everyone here considers themselves an intellectual (they are). The cappuccino is too dry. C-

Sex is one of the most magical experiences we get to have in life. Sometimes it's an uncomfortable or taboo topic, and repression can cause issues. Marvin has no problem talking about sex. This album is (fucking) hilarious. Track 1: Marvin really wants to have sex. Track 2: Marvin has blue balls. Track 3: a sweet fatalistic song not directly about sex (not sure how this made in on the album). Track 4: Enough of that sentimental shit, Marvin really wants to have sex again. Track 5: Marvin wants to have sex with you. Track 6: Marvin is lonely and wants his partner to be with him. Track 7: Marvin reminds his partner how much they enjoy sex. Track 8: Marvin breaks up with partner because their relationship was unhealthy, but the sex was great. Perhaps their relationship was a bit one dimensional, just like this album? Great voice. Great sex soundtrack for those who are immune to irony and take sex really seriously. B-

My mom's favorite Joni album. Mine as well. Straight down the middle folk rock Joni. The trademark floating and swirling Joni melodies but this time with more energy Joni. More direct, incisive lyrics from Joni. More compelling jazz Joni. Incredible Joni production in surprising places (end of People's Parties, middle of Car on a Hill). I'd give it an easy 5 but the cringey final scat scat, so instead it's a labored 5. A+

It's perfectly done but I don't really care about it. I don't know why. Spot on reproduction of retro r&b soul with some reggae sprinkled in. The influences are plain but not too derivative, and it all sounds great. The tunes are solid. Confident as hell vocals (did Amy open the door for all the jazzy affected female singers in the late 2000s?). Must be current (mind)set and setting. They try to make me like this album but I say C+

This rules. Discount Zep. MSRP Rod. Full price blues. Beck's Bolero rules. The bass player rules. B+

In 2021 there would be a Springfield x Springfield collab album with Buffalo and Dusty called Dusty Buffalo and it would be dope. In 1967 this album sounds like a band that's not getting along, but it works. Feels like individuals writing and recording their own stuff. Stills does Stills. Neil is in some Moody Blues territory, and takes a big swing for Sgt Pepper country on the final track. I don't know who else is in Buffalo but one of them decided a stiff R&B number was a good move. Cool scattered album. B+

Away in a manger in Bethlehem a star is born. Tiny Rick, aka Little Richard. The very first howling, flamboyant, "dangerous" rock star is born. 60 years later the formula is basically the same - be flashy, push conservative boundaries, give the people a reason to shake their arms and legs around and feel free for a few minutes. I thought it was gonna be a 50s snooze, but this album brought the heat. This wasn't the Little Richard I remember from 90s TV, although that guy was cool too. A wop bop a loo bop a lop ba B+

This is perfect Halloween music. Michael Jackson singing Thriller in a graveyard isn't scary. The Monster Mash isn't as gross as the title suggests. But Violent Femmes are legitimately spooky. The almost-unplugged production sounds like an old house about to collapse. The marimba is cool and haunting. But it's the singer's rat scrotum delivery and unsolicited horned up lyrics that really make this creepy. Catchy as hell and the hits are great and the little hits are too but shit like "I'm gonna get her drunk, maker her cry, get her high, touch her all over her body" and I have to assume this is just a portrait of a character that he's inhabiting very very well. Maybe under the hood, Violent Femmes are like the Catcher in the Rye of 80s music. Maybe they're just good at conveying the spirits of perverts and small devils on your shoulder. Due credit for taking punk in a folk direction. B-

Every music writer and listicle has told you this is the most iconic jazz album of all time. You brought a nice fillet of king salmon home. You're gonna cook a nice dinner for your sweetie. Take the night off sweetie, I got you, you deserve it. You cook the salmon too perfection - medium rare, still semi-translucent in the center, tender, simple salt and pepper. Exactly as specified in the recipe you found on The Spruce Eats. You've lit the candles - a 50 pack of tea candles from Amazon - and for the last two weeks have ritualistically consumed Cordyceps powder for sexual stamina. Bellies fulll. Romance is alive. Kind of Blue is dancing through your Sonos. You and your sweetie softly lock eyes, sensing something deeper. You remember the first time you met. Something feels different this time. Something is getting in the way. Something is obscuring the air between you. There's a trumpet playing. The carcass-like salmon skin fills your nostrils. Fish is not sexy! The medicinal mushrooms spike your pulse skyward. There's a trumpet playing! The cheap candles flicker and struggle to burn the mass produced wax. Amazon Prime! There's a trumpet playing! You hate jazz! You never loved your sweetie! B

Side 1 is my favorite 60s aesthetic. The chiming 12 string. The multi part harmonies. The swirling organ. The innocent, vague, disorienting lyrics. A trippy phased guitar solo. The "Laurel Canyon sound". Quote I like from FJM in current context “The sound of Laurel Canyon is entertainment lawyers screaming at their dogs.” Somewhere around Side 2 it gets a bit threadbare and hollow. So in a way this album represents the arc of the counterculture it embodies. Starts beautiful, optimistic, original, entrancing. Becomes unsustainable and ultimately too one dimensional to adapt to the times a changin'. B+

In this expert reviewer's opinion, these are not songs. These are goofy experimental jams with a few repeated phrases interspersed, which is cool too. My prior exposure to the B52s was Cosmic Thing, which is full of songs. Some really great ones. Songs or not, every single track is danceable, weird, at least slightly interesting. But also, who cares? Maybe I need to look under the beehive hair and Secret Agent Man grooves to find the point. B

Give me the Stones or give me Hootie but don't give me both. D+

I love the Lips. They make me proud to be American in the age of American decline. They tapped into something new with this album. Still raw like their early stuff, but dropped the guitars and picked up electro beats, glossy detuned disney synth strings. Still relentlessly optimistic. They started composing. Matt and I unintentionally saw the Lips a couple years after Soft Bulletin came out at the Seattle Pier with De La Soul, Kinky, and CAKE. At the time I didn't fully get what they were going for on stage. Random people in furry costumes danced around the stage. Glitter everywhere, splashing off the drums. shooting out from a hand cannon. Wayne sang through a microphone that blew out green smoke and crushed fake blood over his forehead. I untintentionally saw them a couple more times as they got bigger and Wayne started rolling over us all in the audience inside a giant clear balloon and convincing people from the crowd to jump onstage and dance naked. Digress. In the Climate Pledge Arena of America's greatest bands, there will one day be a Flaming Lips banner hanging proudly in the rafters, somewhere next to the Grateful Dead, the Mothers of Invention, and KISS. This is thier Revolver, or maybe thier Kid A. But dressed with a weird American glittery excess, self indulgence, and hope that seems out of touch with practical reality. A+

I thought this was nice, what did you guys think?

A great reminder of my chosen life philosophy to have little to no expectations for anything good so that even the slightest deviation above nothing feels like a gift from the gawd of love. This album is Baaba's gift to those expecting another monotonous dirge. How delightful to hear a couple drums now and then, and a goofy synth here and there. Even melody. And as nice as that is, I think we all can agree this is number 1002 on albums we must hear before we die. D+

Better than Gary Newman! This would sound much better played in the MGM grand arena during the first set break of a Phish show. Beautiful in some places. Stark in others. There's only so much intentionally de-humanized music one can handle before you just want to radically abandon your biological programming and commit a random act of unfiltered imperfection. So yeah, I'm typing this sentence with my pants down in front of a large window with 5 chickens on the other side. It's ok, they get it. I'm more akin to the hens than to Kraftwerk. We're all naked pecking around in a heavy rain. Kraftwerk is driving a car. B-

High school AER remembers checking Let it Bleed out from the public library (to burn onto CDR) and loving every song. Looking back, I probably played Gimme Shelter, skipped all the way to Monkey Man and YCAGWYW, then put on some DMB. The middle tracks are still solid. Bluesy boozy Jagger/Richards. Midnight Rambler drags it's own carcass into a fun jam. There's just so much magic in the bookend tracks that the middle feels a bit normal. Imagine a Stones vending machine and for $1.50 it'll drop You Got the Silver down the chute. Unwarranted hateraide aside, it's still an all time classic "essential" 60s rock record that we all must listen to before we die, or before Mick and Keith are turned into holograms. A-

Fun album to blast in the shower and confuse your partner with your musical choices. The Timberland production has aged well. Never appreciated Missy in her time but can clearly see her legacy in hip hop today with huge artists like Nicki Minaj, Cardi B, etc. That's fantastic. Also the Method Man track reminded me how hilarious sex duets are. I don't take 56 minute showers tho. C

Was just talking to my dad about the tipping point where increasing awareness of all humanity's biggest and darkest problems goes from motivating to parylzing. This album is an insurmountable list of problems. Suggesting solutions is cheesy. I suppose music and songwriting, in this reviewer's humble opinion, is better suited for nuanced storytelling rather than an artless list of high level grievances. Shout out to TDHoH for bringing attention to social determinants of health (Everyday Life Has Become a Health Risk) a decade before the WHO got on board. Also I can't disassociate Michael Franti from his cornball solo stuff. Funny thing is you could put these cheesy lyrics in Zach De La Rocha's mouth and all of a sudden it feels important again. What can we do about any of this? Take care of those close to us. Make socially, environmentally, and fiscally informed consumer decisions. Support political candidates capable of passing policies to support basic human rights and equal opportunity. Dismantle a fundamentally unjust capitalist economy. Abandon all possessions and the concept of ownership. Surrender all (flawed) individual choice to an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, AI? Listen to Spotify. C+

I feel the need to put this in a box. What is this branch on the late 00s indie tree? Somewhere near Wolf Parade and Future Islands. The taxonomy is familiar - chiming guitars with heavy delay, lots of toms on the drum kit, literary references, $10 words, and most importantly a voice that's intentionally affected in an unplacable direction. Does it feel good to reduce something pretentious into its component parts? You bet your balls it does. This album was great but I couldn't get past the pompous feel. These Beasts are more posh and noble than Wild. Maybe Elegant Beasts? High-Born Beasts? I'm treading into unfamiliar waters here, assuming the singers affect is more than just a dracula impression, but a signal of class and heritage in the Queen's England, and potentially an important component of their acclaim or social message. Maybe Coursera offers a class on UK accents. I appreciated when the Wild Beasts made it sexy at times. B-

I don't know the name of this genre of W African music. This sounds like a 90s generic version of its own genre. C

Who's That Lady slaps. Some of the covers are smooth as hell. Others seem like they took the sheet music and plugged it into a funk rock Chuck E Cheese band. It's the longer jams that really do it for me. If they jammed out a 15 minute Lady I'd be in heaven. B

I know it's a total fabrication but I like her 50's LA sad girl charade, probably because I associate Lana with a shortt lived relationship in 2012. Let's call her Lana. Lana introduced me to Lana. The relationship was fun because Lana was slightly too cool for me, so I never got complacent. Now Lana is an entrepreneur and a mom and sings "downatah-menamusic-BIZ-ness conference". The vibe doesn't work as well. This album feels post-coital. I nodded off while driving on I5. C+

I kept waiting for this album to begin and then it was over. C

The all time best band named after a city. Or maybe it's Chicago. Better than Beirut or Berlin. Phoenix doesn't count. Boston really brings the Boston on this album. It's the loud but friendly guy at the bar, cheesy but catchy, educated/virtuosic but loves the Red Sox. Half the album I knew by heart thanks to countless plays on KZOK and high school CD-R mixes. Love the tunes. Love the vocal harmonies. Love the guitar UFO cover. Love whoever is smashing on the church organ. Love that it's only 37 minutes. Can't escape the nagging thought there's something unappealing about the whole package. It all just seems so perfected. Boston tickles the patch of Gen X hair that sometimes grows on the backs of Silverback Millennials like me when we sense something corporate. But I'm trying to wax those hairs so here's a B+

Five stars loaded in the nerf gun, ready to fire at will. We're overdue for a 1001 miracle. Who are these guys. The name suggests an underground classic. It's 1969. Great band name. It's all almost there. Some of the songs were perfect. Loved the jazzier business. Love anything in 6/8 time. Some Love. Some Canned Heat. Some Fairport Convention. Some of it fell flat, but a nice surprise from 1001. A-

Opening track is a bold move. I don't care much for extended guitar solos that don't seem to serve a song, but gotta respect kicking off an album 10 minutes of sad Hendrix. Plus it's not too masterbatory here. Plus plus it serves the album - I think the point might be to work all the dark and heavy stuff out of your maggot brain from the jump so you can be free to enjoy the remaining 25 booty shaking minutes. The group vocal funk stuff is pretty dope - high voice, mid voice, low low booty rumble voice. The riff rock funk stuff is pretty good - still moves the booty. The fart sounds are fart sounds. It's all a booty shaker. Into it. A-

A real 1001 move to go with Phrenology and not Things Fall Apart, but I'm no Roots head. Back in their day I thought the full band "real" instruments hip hop thing was refreshing compared to the Cash Money stuff that was happening at the time. In hindsight the Cash Money stuff is Bach compared to some contemporary trap beats. Looks like it's a curmudgeony gen x morning for AER! The Roots are cool I just think they're at their best when jazzy and this is their pop breakthrough. Also their albums are really long and Black Thought isn't compelling enough to hold down an hour of rhymes. Sheesh I need to find some positivity. B-

Ooof. Self important. Insufferable. Dogshit. F

Was feelin it on I5 then realized these are the exact same chord progressions and vocal melodies as his earlier Big Little Lies album, which was very very solid. Unfortunately every one of us has a finite amount we can say artistically and Michael may have topped out with soundtracking Nicole Kidman in Big Sur. But maybe not. The songs may be similar, but there's an added patience that hints at something better. I think the next one could be more interesting. Peace. B-

A goofier Guthrie. A cowboy Woody. I can dig it. No doubt Bob D took a page from Jack's book on how to sing through your nose. Compared to those two folk titans Jack seems like a lightweight. Woody had a way of making simple things universal, and Bob is untouchable Bob. Do I need more Oakie Folk in my cereal? Probably not, but Jack's a goofy marshmallow. C. P.S. did Sarah Vaughan randomly drop in the middle of this album for you too?

I know this is a 5, so I'm attempting to review without recently listening to the album. The details are fuzzy, but when I think about In Rainbows I think relaxed. I think about their performance of the album from the basement more than the studio version. They seem like a real band - just the 5 (6?) middle aged dudes standing in a round, facing each other, listening to each other, jamming. It also sounds exactly like the studio album. Flawless but jammy. Thom sounds less uptight when he has a guitar strapped on instead of sitting in front of a MIDI controller and Pro Tools. Did the subject matter change as well? I can't think of a single track that has the classic Radiohead isolation-by-dehumanizing-corporate-technology vibe. The standout memory of In Rainbows is the end of the song (Nude?) where the vocals finish with that ascending major "ahhhh". It's so uncharacteristicly angelic and unironic. I picture Thom's cranky ass rising into the clouds, naked as a hairless cat, yellow-toothed smile, and a halo. A+