First, I would like to thank jkavlock for the opportunity to write this guest review. I've been a huge fan of Rage Against The Machine for a long time. They've been an incredibly important band in the formation of my worldview, and even inspired my career. Musically, RATM gets me pumped. I love to lift and work out, and nothing gets me psyched for a good burn like RATM. I turn on Rage, turn it up loud, grab the barbell, and the sweat starts trickling down like tax cuts for the rich. It's thanks to RATM that every time the sun's out, my guns are out. You know what they say - "curls get the girls." Lyrically, RATM helps me understand the world we live in. They sing about all the things I love - Manifest Destiny, landlords, burning things, corporations, the system, and a nice game of bridge ("For all the diamonds/They'll use a pair of clubs to beat the spades"). They give proper respect to the thin blue line ("Those who died are justified, for wearing the badge") and the stars and stripes ("Ya bowin' down to the flag"). RATM told us to rest assured that "Departments of police, the judges, the feds/Networks at work, keepin' people calm." They helped me understand that if I did what those in positions of power and authority told me to, I could control myself - "And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control." And they described how the education system works best - "The complacent students sit and listen." RATM also recognized conformity, assimilation, and submission as important parts of the American Dream. When Obama was elected president, I knew we had to "take the power back!" and I listened to that track on repeat leading up to the 2010 midterms. I do have to admit - sometimes I just get so pumped listening to Rage and curling big dumbbells that I lose track of the lyrics. But I get the message. These guys SPEAK to me! Rage guitarist Tom Morello even wrote an article about me. He called me "the embodiment of the machine," and that recognition is one of the proudest moments of my career. I wouldn't be who I am today if not for the influence of Rage Against The Machine and Tom Morello. Your Truly, Paul Ryan Former Speaker of the House Former Republican Nominee for Vice President Former Spokesperson for P90X Former and Current Advocate for Privatizing and Ruining Medicare and Social Security President of the Misunderstood Lyrics and Messages Club

Here's Peter Tosh calling for the legalization of marijuana in 1976 (in Jamaica). Tosh also said "Herb will become like cigarettes," in an NME interview in 1978. Yet here we are, 46 years later, and cigarettes have become much less common and marijuana is still not culturally acceptable at the level Tosh was pleading for. Five years after this album was released, President Nixon called for a "War on Drugs" as part of the tough-on-crime platform of the Republican Party, and countless lives have been ruined by this war in the years since. In Jamaica, possession of up to 2 oz. of ganja was decriminalized in 2015, and in 2018 the first medical cannabis dispensary opened after medical marijuana was legalized. In the United States, marijuana is legalized in 18 states, 2 territories, and the District of Columbia – but illegal at federal level. Decriminalized in another 13 states and 1 territory. Despite these recent changes, 8.2 million Americans were arrested for marijuana between 2001 and 2010, and 80% of those were for simple possession. On top of that, blacks are 3.73 times more likely to be arrested for marijuana than whites. The numbers improved only slightly from 2010-2020, mostly offset by increases in methamphetamine arrests. Over 40,000 Americans are in prison for marijuana offenses, and millions more have criminal records that impact their quality of life. The War on Drugs is a failure. Legalize It.

This is music. But it's background music. It's not meant to be listened to. (By Eno's own admission. It was literally written with the thought of having looping background music in airports and other similar spaces.) So it's inclusion on 1001 albums you've gotta hear really frustrates me. Since Eno pioneered ambient music with this album, thousands of other similar pieces of music have been made to serve as background music or meditation soundtracks. What makes this example special other than it being the first? It's not that I have a problem with this music (though I wouldn't choose to listen to it), but I have a bone to pick with its inclusion on this list.

That's a very impressive ability to alternate so dynamically between too boring and too weird.

Acronyms are intended for abbreviating long phrases or names - they can be super-useful when used for their proper purpose. The acronym for Feeling Called Love would be F.C.L. But P.U.L.P. seems to misunderstand how acronyms work. Acronyms sung as part of a song also usually doesn't go well. Or spelling things out in general. "R-E-S-P-E-C-T" might be the exception, but "Y.M.C.A." and B-A-N-A-N-A-S certainly wore out their welcome. I wonder how long of a playlist we could get out of songs that spell out words or acronyms...? So Pulp misunderstands acronyms, but I think I must misunderstand Pulp. Because apparently "Different Class" is acclaimed and beloved, and people think Jarvis Cocker (surely a country singer and not a Brit-pop dandy) is an amazing lyricist. But my understanding is that the album is nearly unlistenable, and the lyrics are either lame or offensive. I don't need to hear multiple songs of Cocker bragging about his affairs with married women. I prefer low pulp. Or no pulp. The orange juice doesn't lose anything without the pulp, and neither would music.

"Sweet Dreams" is, of course, a classic. But I'm not feeling the rest of the album. Too synthy (its weird that I like Chvrches, that's way more synth than I usually like), but particularly a lot of weird sounds (the beginning of "I've Got An Angel"). I laughed out loud when I don't think I was supposed to at a lot of parts. There's a reason "Sweet Dreams" was the only hit off this record.

I didn't love the vocals, but the instrumentals were good background music. And that's way too many songs. How many double albums are on this 1001 list? I've also decided I wish the ratings scale was 10 point.

A legend for good reason. Lyrics and voice on this are one of a kind, and the live performance has so much charisma and personality. I’d go 9.3 or so out of 10, but 5/5 is like 10/10 right, so I’ve gotta be super judicious with the 5’s.

I was sorta familiar with this from the Ryan Adams cover version. His version is better. :) But Taylor’s is very good. It’s a very good pop album. It’s not a masterpiece. Her voice is good but not spectacular, the songwriting is occasionally spectacular but sometimes a bit cringy. Sorry Swifties, but let’s be honest - you’ve gotta be judicious with the 5 star reviews.

A solid proto-alternative album. But nothing really stood out. Was good in the background, but never demanded my attention. They made an impact on some though - apparently they are name-dropped in songs by Death Cab, Jimmy Eat World, and Shins, so it sounds like they were influential even though I had heard the name but didn’t know their music.

They didn’t live up to their potential, but their early stuff was quite good. Not revolutionary or ground-breaking, but I’ll take their early 2000s stuff over some of the pop-radio-friendly rock that came just before and just after them.

This album is amazing. I'm sure it's not gonna be everyone's jam, but I really dig it. I've always meant to listen to more Rush, because I like prog rock and like what I've heard from them, and their influence on those who came after is immense. "Tom Sawyer" is my least favorite song on the album - by a lot. In fact, that's gonna keep it from being a 5 I think. (The excessive synth from "Tom Sawyer" is confined to that song.) This is the first album from this experiment that I've listened to more than once.

This is music. But it's background music. It's not meant to be listened to. (By Eno's own admission. It was literally written with the thought of having looping background music in airports and other similar spaces.) So it's inclusion on 1001 albums you've gotta hear really frustrates me. Since Eno pioneered ambient music with this album, thousands of other similar pieces of music have been made to serve as background music or meditation soundtracks. What makes this example special other than it being the first? It's not that I have a problem with this music (though I wouldn't choose to listen to it), but I have a bone to pick with its inclusion on this list.

It was fine. Couple of good radio hits, but nothing to really elevate it to higher levels.

There is lots of decent or even good metal out there. Why is this on the list? (So that was my first reaction. Then I read up on it, and apparently they were really pioneers of several sub-genres of metal in the late 70s-early 80s. And so like with the Brian Eno stuff, part of why they merit inclusion on this list is the influence they had on what came after? In that case, do I boost their rating based on the impact they had? Do I rate the music in a vacuum, based totally on what I hear? Or do I rate it based on its historical context?)

"What's Love Got to Do With It" is, of course, a classic. The rest is too 80s for my taste.

Well, I'm not sure quite where to fall on this one. "Rio" is awful. I thought "Hungry Like a Wolf" was better for the first half, but by the end was quite sick of it. There are a few decent tracks though, mostly the ones that put more focus on the guitar and bass. (I'm beginning to think I'm really not a big fan of 80s music!)

I mean, with the album kicking off with the bassline from "Seven Nation Army," what more could you want? And a clear indication that what would follow would be masterful. An amazing blend of blues and garage rock, by the best 2-person rock group since Local H (and then the Black Keys would come along a few years later!). I could go on and on about every track on this album - its one of the absolute best. Easy 5 stars, no reservations.

So apparently this is a bit of a concept album, with a complex story that close listening would reveal in a rewarding way. I didn't listen to it closely. I thought part-way through that \"I should pay more attention to the lyrics.\" But I must confess I didn't. This album probably deserved better, even though its not really my style.

I mean, it's Aretha...

I have heard the name, but wouldn't have guessed that I would not recognize their most popular songs. I half-listened to a lot of pop-radio in the 80s (we couldn't just ask Alexa to play something different when our parents were listening to something!), but none of the Cocteau Twins' stuff sounds even remotely familiar. And probably because its quite unspectacular and wasn't that popular when it came out. But they have two albums on this list! So, some additional notes after listening to the full album. It is not radio-friendly pop, and that's likely why I never heard it. It's... "dream pop?" And yes, it has a lot of dream-like, ethereal elements. A lot of fluttering soprano and meandering tracks that feel a lot longer than their actual run-time. Not my jam, but more interesting than I expected.

Ok, so this is a tough one. It leaves a lot to unpack. Holding up to it's reputation, it an amazing slice of and glimpse at a dark America, a sadness filled with mistakes and loss and tragedy. It just has an overall sorrowful and somber mood, and the material combined with the harmonica (jeez that can really be a sad instrument huh?) left me pretty low by the end. That recognition of the dark side in the early Reagan years is remarkable. And that Springsteen makes such a constant focus on a blue-collar America that has for years been manipulated to turn against their best interests... "Open All Night" has a great energy... it's by far the shortest song on this brilliant but melancholy record.

Early punk, with added horns, but still feels more punk than ska. Very interesting. I was continuing to dig this, and then the R-word pops up prominently in track 3. Sigh. Still, a solid album overall. It took a couple of songs to get used to the vocals, but they grew on me somewhat. Second half wasn't as strong, but I actually really dug the horns and harmonica mixed with classic punk.

Well, when you start with "TV Set" you really get off on the wrong foot. "TV Set" is an awful mess. "Rock on the Moon" had a somewhat promising start, then devolved into a cacophonous mess. And hey, turns out "Rock on the Moon" is a cover. Because the start of that track shows the potentially of the "psychobilly" style, I guess. It takes the rockabilly sound and amps it up, distorts it, turns it on its head. Later in the album, there is some stuff that is an actually not-terrible mix of rockabilly, surf rock, and punk. However, it is plagued by some terrible production (intentionally terrible?). They don't seem to know how to restrain their excesses. The hissing distortion that just hangs in the background of multiple songs, the singer sounding like he's in a different room than the lead guitar... The lead singer's name is Luxe Interior. He met his wife, also a member of the band, when he picked her up hitchhiking. Also according to Wikipedia, his "specialty is the microphone blowjob." I agonized for a while on * vs. **, but in the end there's enough interesting stuff there to elevate it above Venom or the Cocteau Twins or Brian Eno for me.

Is it a concept album, telling the story of a broken relationship? Because there's almost no actual storytelling here. It's a lot of feelings, but I wanted to hear more details about the story of the relationship. She doesn't seem to share proof of his cheating? Apparently he has a drinking problem, and hangs out with his friends too much. The first four songs are boring and repetitive, but the pace and mood picks up with "Shoe Goes on the Other Foot Tonight." However, it turns back mopey again and falls doesn't seem to follow through on the story and character development hinted at in "Saint to Sinner." As for the music itself, its too twangy for my taste. So many country singers overdo the twang and accent (just like Scott Stapp and many others overdid it trying to copy the throaty thing early grunge singers popularized - that's right, 90% of country music is to it's genre as Creed is to alternative rock). (And yes, I realize Loretta Lynn probably was the forerunner here that inspired many singers that followed. At least(?) these songs are shorter than punk songs - is this normal for country?

Elvis has an incredible voice. I feel like its not what he is most remembered for, but it can be velvety smooth when used well. The trouble is, he overdoes it at times. If his velvety deep voice is like a warm blanket, sometimes Elvis throws an extra blanket on top and smothers you with it. The songs on this album that lean more into the blues are the standouts, but I'm not feeling the honky-tonk.

For an album declaring in the title that Cee-Lo Green is a soul machine, I wanted more soul! Sometimes Cee Lo's voice works for me, and sometimes it doesn't. He can sing, and he can rap, but sometimes the nasally high pitch isn't used well. Or its growly and yappy (I'm looking at you, "Scrap Metal"). But there were definitely some fun tracks on here. "I'll Be Around" was the first one that jumped out at me - it definitely had that Timbaland sound. What Timbaland sound, you ask!? Why don't you know Timbaland? More like, why do I know Timbaland? Its weird, Timbaland & Magoo's "Welcome to Our World" album has apparently stuck in my mind as a standout late 90's hip-hop album, though I hadn't thought about it in years. As soon as I heard "I'll Be Around" though, I immediately recalled "Clock Strikes," with its sample of the Knight Rider theme song. Seriously. It's amazing. And also "Up Jumps da Boogie" with Missy Elliot! But sorry, back to Cee Lo. "Childz Play" with Ludacris is fun, and the soul finally appears on "All Day Love Affair." Those, along with "Die Trying," are the best tracks, but overall this anointing of the soul machine would have benefitted from more soul. Also, I find it troubling that his name is hyphenated in the album title, but not anywhere else...

The Blue Who? I was dreading another very dated 80s album filled with synth. Turned out it was worse than that. "A Walk Across the Rooftops" did provide some brief glimpses of hope, with the incorporation of real piano and real strings, along with a funky baseline. But then came "Tinseltown in the Rain," which might be my least favorite song of this experiment so far. After tight 2 minute songs from Loretta Lynn the other day, the 5-6 minute songs here were agonizingly long. It's possible have good longer songs, that are dynamic and shift and change throughout. That's not what this was. They just droned on. And on.

I wrote a lot about TLC. And then forgot to save it. Doh! This album is "cool." But I think its coolness may have been heightened by the time period in which it came out. It was peak MTV, and the music videos from this album, especially "Waterfalls," are intrinsically tied to these songs. It was also a time when women in music were openly and boldly talking about their sexuality - we wouldn't have WAP today if it wasn't for TLC and Salt n Pepa. (Credit to Kate on that one.) This album is "sexy." And it's in the sultry songs where it excels the best, and those type of songs are also best suited for the voices of T-Boz and Chilli. I was a little worried at first on "Creep," where I was really underwhelmed by the vocals. They're not amazing singers, just good, and some of these songs that utilized their voices better than others. However, as good as this album might be for turning the lights down low, it probably killed the mood with the funniest bit on the album, the prank call of "Sexy-Interlude" that ends with a toilet flushing. This album is "crazy" too. Or at least, TLC's story is. From ditching their founding third member, to drama between group members, to Left Eye almost burning her house down setting fire to a bathtub full of her abusive boyfriend's shoes. Left Eye, by the way, is the real star and stand-out here. Her verses are the best part of every song. Overall, this is the first album that I've had to consider how much (if at all) I'll let the nostalgia factor influence my reviews. "Crazysexycool" is not as good as I remembered. It has a few very fondly remembered hit singles, and while I get why it was a big hit at the time, it doesn't hold up quite as well.

I was supposed to laugh out loud at the start of "Moon Raga," right? The horns at the start were unexpected, but after that this settled in quickly as a cohesive album that comfortable and snuggly and warm. “Draft Morning” devolves unexpectedly but interestly into noise and chaos briefly, clearly the mark of a band with a set style but also an yearning to experiment. (It was right before this album that their lead singer changed his first name, to Roger, as part of joining an Indonesian “spiritual movement.” The 60’s, man... What super-vanilla white dude name would you pick when you join some kind of zen cult?) I only really knew “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “Turn, Turn, Turn” really well, but I found their harmonies and arrangements to be classic. Perhaps classic rock even?? But they were pioneers of folk rock, and were experimenting here with psychedelic rock... of course, everything before 1997 with a guitar is classic rock, right? ;) Finally, the Byrds are not brothers, so this album title is another case of false advertising. (This only missed **** because “Moon Raga” totally took me out of it.)

I had never heard of Suede. Or the London Suede. But you have to have heard of both to figure anything out? And which reissue or remaster to listen to? Do I have to listen to the bonus disc? The demos? The live versions? Ok, we figured it out. But why have I never heard of Suede? Why did they not get nearly the level of attention that other Britpop bands got (much to the chagrin of one pretentious-ass)? Because I actually liked this album quite a bit. I could definitely see myself listening to Suede again. I will agree that I don't dig the singer's voice at times, which is what is going to keep this album from earning ****. Sometimes - sometimes - I really like the way he uses his voice, with short sudden high notes and quick swings to the lower register. But too often he hits that sweet spot of saccharine Sussex accent that makes pretentious-ass sick to their stomach and disrupts their bowels. All the vocals needed to do was not fuck things up too bad, though, because the instrumentation was the real standout. Super interesting stuff, that I could try to remember how to ramble on in a doomed attempt to make it sound like I know how to talk about music. However, I left writing this until the last minute today and am out of Hershey squirts to give.

This album is "louder" and more aggressive than I was anticipating, especially after only knowing "Bittersweet Symphony" and listening to the first part of that album before realizing I was listening to the wrong Verve album. I like this one better than that one, but I don't like "On Your Own." Also, sometimes there's a bit too much screechy reverb, like on "A Northern Soul." The Verve do some sonically interesting, but doesn't always work for me. The repeated "I'm gonna die alone in bed" was a bit much, but later he's "too busy staying alive," "too busy living a lie," and "too busy living my life," so he seems a bit confused here. Apparently their earlier stuff is more psychedelic? But by their next one, with "Bittersweet Symphony," they get pretty poppy and use lots of strings. So what was up with this one? Well, it seems it was written and recorded on ecstacy. Not the drug I would have guessed from the first half, though I read this while listening to "Brainstorm Interlude" and it started to make sense. Still overall, though, I feel like a lot of the album was more aggressive than I would expect from a bunch of dudes on X. The second half of the album really loses steam, and loses my interest. Three stars kinda feels too generous, but a 5 or 6 out of 10 sounds right I guess. Other interesting Verve bits - a reviewer wrote that "Richard Ashcroft has a face that even a mother would say 'you’ve got mostly your father in ya;'” after they split up in 1999, Ashcroft said "You're more likely to get all four Beatles on stage" (they got back together in 2007); and finally, this is not The Verve Pipe. I hope they're not on the list, "Freshmen" is even more annoying and overplayed than "Bittersweet Symphony."

Nothing's shocking!? There are flame-headed naked Siamese twins on a cow background - how is that not shocking!? Why didn't I have this hidden under my mattress as a kid? What's that you say? It came out in 1988? Holy crap! I didn't really know what music (or breasts) were when I was 8. And that's a further indication that this was very ahead of its time. In that context, Jane's Addiction is more responsible for the coming decade of alternative rock than I had realized. Their sound, plus their role in starting Lollapalooza, helped to save us from the 80s. Perry Farrell's voice shouldn't work, but it does. This album is amazing. "Jane Says" is a top-tier, 11/10 song. Does anything more need to be said?

I've had very little exposure to Nick Drake. (And he to me.) I think the first time I heard him is actually on the Garden State Soundtrack (shoutout to an album that had a big influence on my musical journey - any soundtracks on this list?), and from the start of "Pink Moon" it was immediately familiar because it sounded so much like "One of These Things First" from that album. I enjoy Drake’s style, but I waited until after 9 pm to write this so don’t have much to say about it. Good chill/relaxing background music, though it does get repetitive.

So I have a memory of going to a Pearl Jam show with Kate in Baltimore, and Sleater-Kinney opened. Kate was not a fan. And this is what I have always remembered any time Sleater-Kinney has come on or come up in discussion, especially around Kate. Now I have learned that this never happened. We did go to the show in Baltimore, but Sleater-Kinney wasn't there. (We may have both seen Sleater-Kinney open for PJ in '03, but weren't there together.) Not sure how this Mandela Effect of a memory got into my brain, but I'm gonna default to blaming the marijuana. As for "Dig Me Out," and Sleater-Kinney in general... I've listened at least 3 times trying to figure out where to land on this. I like female-fronted rock bands. Really like. It's what I listen to more than anything else. Sleater-Kinney should be right up my alley. But I've never quite gotten into them. I've always tolerated them more than Kate, who despite that false memory really doesn't dig Carrie Brownstein's voice. I've only ever listened to them in small doses - I think this was the first time I listened to a full album. My first reaction was an agreement that I don't love the warbling thing that Brownstein does with her voice. But by the time I got to the end of the album, it was growing on me a bit. Sometimes the warble is used very effectively, other times less so. On repeated listens, I came around more. She's still not in my top 10 of female rock vocalists (been thinking about that a bit), but I can tolerate and oftentimes enjoy/appreciate it. However, Corin Tucker's backing vocals on "One More Time" - "and you, and you..." - are annoying. And "Little Babies" is by far the worst song on this record - I'm not sure what hell-yeah sees there. "Dance Song '97" is my favorite. Throughout the album, though, the energy is great, full of punk and riott ferver. I still wound up stuck between 3 and 4 stars. So I'll complain about the 5-star system again. Untappd has a 5-star system, but broken up into .25 increments. If I give 3/5, that's a 60%. This album isn't "barely passing," but I've also gotta keep a scale on this system somehow that differentiates between B+ and B- albums. I promise not to whine about the star system for another 10 albums...

For every bit of groovy funk or piercing electric guitar, there's something that is too cheesy, cringey, or just weird. Weird can be good, but "Sign 'O' The Times" is just all over the place. Much respect to Prince for his musical talent and boundary-pushing experimentation, but I wouldn't listen to this again. Hmm... just got to "The Cross" after writing all of the above. By far the most interesting song on the album for me. I feel like very few other songs on the album highlighted Prince's voice well. This one did. "The Cross" was also more stripped-down, without too much other stuff going on. Oddly, this doesn't boost my rating up - instead it confirms the ** level because I'm more frustrated with the rest of the album as a result. I think "The Cross" feels pretty timeless, whereas the rest of the album is dated and very much a sign of the times.

There is a lot of more recent rap that I can't stand. The beats and the production are all too similar, following in the trap style of fast hi-hats and AutoTune and droning repetitive lyrics about drugs and girls. Kendrick Lamar is not that. And he stands out all the more amidst his peers for it. He has a voice that I feel like shouldn't work, but does (a bit of a theme lately for me with some of the recent albums). He is an amazing lyricist, writer, and rapper, with a flow that is unique and at times mind-blowing. He tells stories, he exposes raw truths. And he does it all with a seamlessly interwoven background of beats and horns. There is more soul and funk I can dig on this album than there was on Prince's "Sign 'O' The Times." Kendrick Lamar has so much to say, and it deserves and warrants repeated close listens. As an aside, with the relatively low number of hip hop albums on this list, I would expect that they are more likely to be the cream of the crop, 4 or 5 star albums. This one certainly sets the tone for that.

If it wasn't all a little too muted, especially when it's too quiet for the quiet parts, it would be 5-star. Female rock vocalists are kind of my thing, and I should have listened to more PJ Harvey back in the day.

Did you have the guys at your high school that put the biggest subwoofers in their trunk that they could afford and fit? Some of them also made sure they made the appropriate modifications to the trunk to reduce rattle from the booming bass. Some didn't, and it sounded dumb because their vibrating trunk was louder than the rest of the music. There's something wrong with the speaker on my driver's side door, and it rattles with too much bass. (It's broken, or something is loose, and has needed deeper investigation for a year.) But most of the stuff I listen to in the car, at the volume at which I listen to it, doesn't cause rattling or vibration. "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" rattled the crap out of my speaker. There is a shocking amount of deeply reverberating bass on that album. As for the actual music, there are numerous 5-star songs on the album. It's also a double album, so there are so many songs that not all rise to that level. Interestingly, a couple of the hits - "Zero" and "Bullet With Butterfly Wings" - I felt did not hold up 25 years later. Meanwhile, "Thirty-Three," "1979," "Muzzle," and many more still blow me away. There is some deep 90s angst on here, but also some really timeless stuff. Good mix of experimentation, and pairing of quieter, softer songs with some real rage. A few of the raging songs just don't quite do it for me, keeping the album from hitting 5 stars. You could definitely make a 50-star single album from the tracks on this one. Billy Corgan's is another voice that I feel like shouldn't work, but usually does. And I think that on "Mellon Collie" he found some really great ways to use his vocal instrument. By the way, in addition to various recent Pumpkins reunions, for the last 10 years Corgan has spent a lot of his time and money in professional wrestling, working in ownership and backstage creative roles. He is currently the owner of one of the oldest promotions, the National Wrestling Alliance. Clearly, Corgan has gone in a lot of different directions since the 90s. I didn't like the Pumpkins as much as their sound evolved in a more electronic direction on later albums. But "Siamese Dream" and "Mellon Collie" remain absolute classics.

Wikipedia deep dives to learn more about the artists behind these albums have revealed lots of interesting facts and drama about the musicians, and now also about racist caricatures. CCR has become such an iconic name in classic rock, but would they have become as big if they were named Muddy Rabbit, Gossamer Wump, or the name foisted upon them by a record exec early in their career, the Golliwogs. Well that last one is an interesting name, where is that from? Sounds like some creature from a fantasy story. Nope... it's a book character-turned-doll in blackface minstrel style from the late 1800s. That wiki page is an interesting read, with connections to things Margaret Thatcher's daughter said this century! But I digress... classic rock! CCR certainly embodies classic rock. And swamp rock... or bayou rock... or Southern rock... or whatever. But they were actually posers from San Francisco! Working through whether to dock them a star for that. It also makes me think about how cultural appropriation is defined. It is usually focused on appropriating the cultural of an oppressed minority. But I bet these white guys from Cali got some opportunities that a black bluesman from Louisiana playing some of the same licks wouldn't have gotten. Oh, right, the music. The first few songs are incredible - 5 star stuff. But I was really thrown by "Good Golly Miss Molly" - I hadn't noticed it on the track list before I heard it. Jarring stylistic shift, and more appropriation? Or just covering a by an artist instrumental in the development of blues and rock and roll? Fogerty's voice is terrific. And yet, the fake Southern accent is sometimes a bit much. And why is "burning" pronounced "boynin" on "Proud Mary?" There is some great guitar, and some great harmonica, but it never gets back to the heights of "Born on the Bayou" and "Bootleg."

I really don’t have much to say about k.d. lang. (Any relation to Brian Lang?) She has a nice voice, but it’s all so subdued. I don’t even have the right language to talk about the style of this album, I think. I will echo, though, that the hit single “Constant Craving” sounds quite different from the rest of the record. Mostly I was bored by “Ingenue,” nothing here grabbed my attention. It was capably made, and inoffensive, but didn’t stand out. I feel like there are a thousand other albums out there that sound much like this one without the same level of attention.

Janis! Holy cow! This once again exposed the gaps in my music knowledge. I did not know the names of any of Joplin’s backing bands, and since this one doesn’t bear her name I didn’t realize it was her at first. Then as I listened, I thought that remarkable voice sounded familiar. And sure enough, this is the band that launched Joplin’s career. After plunging deep into her tragic story, which I really only knew the end of, I went back and listened to the first Big Brother and the Holding Company album, and the next one she made with a new band. You can definitely hear the progression in her style and confidence as a singer. Bluesy, awesome classic rock. They may have been dirty hippies in the height of Haight Ashbury, but damn can Janis Joplin sing.

The only disappointment it shame here is that the Fugees didn’t stay together. Wow, what could have been. Miseducation of Lauryn Hill was great, Carnival was very good… but the Score is next level. Unmatchable. Six stars if I could. The rhymes, the references, I could go on and on.

What a mess of styles. There’s a lot of interesting stuff here, but there is one point where consecutive songs switch from hip hop to instrumental jazz to drum and bass with Hindi vocals to piano pop. There is apparently some deep meaning according to the artist, but it’s lost in the telling. Also very surprised to see this on the list. Most things on the list have had some popularity in the US, with a focus on genres and artists popular in the US and UK. This seems an odd choice, though the artist has apparently won lots of awards in England and worked with lots of famous people.

Let’s make music that sounds like it’s… From the FUTURE! I wonder what Gary Numan thinks of the future of music being nothing like what he seemed to envision in the late 70s and early 80s. Thank goodness new wave didn’t make more of a long-term impact. I didn’t like this. At all. My least favorite lead singer voice of the 1001 so far.

I may not love Nitin Sawhney or Gary Numan, but I can’t deny how much I’m learning about music, history, and much more through this experiment. As for Fela Kuti, I can attest that jam not only goes great on toast, but also on stage. I’m glad to see a variety of genres, styles, and countries represented on the list, and Kuti’s a great example of that. He created Afrobeat - a fusion of funk, jazz, psychedelic rock, and traditional Nigerian music. On the other hand, Kuti also described polygamy as logical and convenient: "A man goes for many women in the first place. Like in Europe, when a man is married when the wife is sleeping, he goes out and sleeps around. He should bring the women in the house, man, to live with him, and stop running around the streets!" He also may or may not have died of AIDS, but he was an AIDD denialist so his family rejects that story. And I couldn’t find any info about the end result of murder charges brought by the Nigerian government late in his life. (The government had multiple times jailed or attacked him for political reasons.) An activist who had a transformative impact on music and his country, but a complicated story.

It’s apparently been more than a decade that I’ve been trying to figure out what I want from “Intro.” I love the sound. But I’ve never been able to figure out whether I want it to keep looping for at least twice as long, or do I want it to build and evolve into a more complete song. The songs on “xx” often build a bit only to retreat, consistently teasing the listener. I think edging is the technical music terminology for that, right? The tease works though. It’s a terrific chill out album, creating a laid back atmosphere with understated, crystal-clear guitar and just the right amount of electronica. “Crystalized” and “Stars” stand out, but the whole thing benefits from its consistency.

Well… That was weird… And also really interesting? But good? This was weirder and wilder than I knew 1979 was capable of. It feels very unrestrained and raw. Sometimes that can be a great thing, but here it’s a bit too much. This is apparently a much-lauded album, and inspired many later artists. I’m not surprised they were influential, but it just goes a bit too far for me. The incorporation of dub reggae and ska create a cool underlying punk sound, and the I like how the lyrics challenge norms. And I usually like singers who scream and let their voices crack. While this is a touch too unrestrained and raw for me, much credit to these ladies for saying “fuck it” with their attitude, style, ethos, and music.

I would be totally pleased with this album as background music at a nice restaurant, or in a hotel lobby. But casual jazz listening might just not be my thing. Apparently Stan Getz is a saxophone legend. I hadn't heard of him. He has two albums on the list. Some of his jazz influencers and contemporaries, who I had heard of, are not on the list... The musicianship on "Jazz Samba" seems incredibly tight and capable. It's easy to listen to. The guitar complements Getz's sax nicely. But here's the thing - I don't listen to enough jazz or know jazz well enough to judge how good of a jazz album this is. I felt the same way to some extent with Fela Kuti, and likely will with other non-rock albums on the list. Most of my musical knowledge and language comes from rock music (and some hip hop), so it's much harder to judge things from genres I'm not familiar with. Then there is the question of how much of the rating comes from the quality of the music, and how much comes from my enjoyment of it. I can know that something is a brilliant piece of music, but not really dig it. How many stars does that get?

We saw the Pixies perform this full album on it's 25th anniversary tour at DAR Constitution Hall. A seemingly unconventional venue for the Pixies. They must be true Daughters of the American Revolution. Kate asked if we heard this for the first time today, would we feel the same way about it that we do after discovering it at a much younger age and listening to it for more than two decades. This review nailed the dynamic of the Pixies, and what makes them so great - "The tension from straddling pop’s melodies with punk’s energy, Black Francis’ anguished lead vocals with bassist Kim Deal’s harmonies, and Deal’s own juxtaposition of flatly deadpan with perky and sweet make all of these tracks jump."

I was bored. Anita Baker has a great voice, nothing can be taken away on that account. But the keyboard-driven style of this kind of 80s stuff does nothing for me. That was a lot of generic songs about love too - I wish the writing could measure up to her voice.

“Dabble-do, woo ooh, dabble-do, woo ooh…” The Coral is all over the place, and not in a good way. Just when you think there’s something you like (and there’s definitely some strong potential), they pull a 180 and switch genres mid-song or bollocks it up with a lousy lyric. “Dreaming of You” and “Goodbye” were pretty decent, but “Shadows Fall” and the “yabble-dabble doing” of “Simon Diamond” really brought this down for me. And lest we forget: “Calendars Clocks and hickory docks (tick tock) Calendars Clocks and hickory docks (tick tock) Yeah Calendars Clocks and hickory docks (tick tock)” A 3… just barely. So close to a 2 because of some of its worse bits.

TIL that Sting is a serial killer. Seriously, wtf is “Murder by Numbers” if not a very blunt confession? Maybe your mum keeps ringing you on the telephone to check on whether all these girls you go out with make it back home. The Police have an awesome and unique sound when at their best. There are a few gems on here, but “Mother” was such weird shock it’s gonna bring it from a high-4 all the way down to a 3.

I kept wanting to get more into it than I could. There's a lot about punk and post-punk that I like, but the vocal style of a lot of punk singers doesn't quite work for me.

I haven't listened to a lot of Stones, but have always liked what I've heard. In larger doses, I'm even more impressed. I was already impressed by their longevity - for guys that go as hard as they do, to continue doing it through six decades is kind of ridiculous. And my goodness, the late 60s/early 70s were an incredibly prolific time for them, releasing an album every year. "Sticky Fingers" delivers with some bluesy brilliance throughout. With the number of songs the Stones were churning out, you'd think that there would be some clunkers best left for the eventual rarities collection. However, with the exception of "Dead Flowers" and it's weird accent, everything on "Sticky Fingers" is great. Why are your fingers so sticky, though, Mick?

I disliked this. Quite a bit. "Tainted Love" is of course fondly remembered, though I have to wonder, in the context of the rest of the album, how I would feel about "Tainted Love" if I heard it for the first time today with the rest of "Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret." I can't decide if Soft Cell is authentically presenting themselves (or at least an exaggerated version of themselves), or if this is all for show. Marc Almond wrote this stuff when he was in his early 20s... so why does he present the mid-life crisis of a 40-year-old middle class worker bee, and also the late 20s crisis of a bedsitter? "I have life/ I have cage/ I'm going bald/ I want to tell the world/ I've done nothing/ I've achieved nothing/ I work for a firm/ But I want to burn it down, down" and also "I think it's time to cook a meal/ To fill the emptiness I feel/ Spend my money going out/ I've nothing in I'm left without" So much discontentedness! Give these guys something to help them feel better about their life/the world! (They apparently got heavily into ecstacy in the next few years.) And then there's the entirety of "Sex Dwarf." I just can't. It's probably not serious? I mean, if that's your fetish, more power to you, as long as everyone is consenting and there's no problematic power imbalance. But was a whole song about it really necessary? This was an apparently positive review - Melody Maker magazine said "Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret... confronts clubland with its patchy past, rubs perspective in its pretty painted face and acts like it means nothing... Aggressively embarrassing, Cabaret is the brashest, most brilliant and least-caring indictment of pop music's bankruptcy I've ever heard. No compassion, no sorrow, no joy, it just faces facts and moves to the motions... Like traditional cabaret, the whole thing parodies true emotion and like the best subversive cabaret its shallowness makes those devalued emotions even more painful – the very real decadence of this album springs from its callous realisation of pop's impotency, and yet its bored resignation to the ritual." Brash and brilliant sound positive, but the rest? So it was just meant to be subversive? I guess it was, but lyrically and musically this did not do for me what other subversive music from psychedelic and punk rock have done.

Exhibit A on why not to look at the Wikipedia page before listening to the album. Apparently the female lead, Exene Cervenka, has gotten into conspiracy theories in recent years, including mass shooting hoaxes. But once I listened, I was pleasantly surprised and mostly didn't think about what I had learned about them. I had also read that their brand of early-80s punk was tinged with rockabilly, and I could definitely hear that in the songs. Sonically I thought they were pretty great - I liked the sped-up rockabilly/surf rock style, and usually enjoyed the paired lead vocals. I wasn't as big a fan of the lyrics, though.

I listened to a little bit of Metallica recently. These albums have led me to question whether I remember stuff I loved back in the day through rose-colored glasses, or however that metaphor goes. How much is nostalgia impacting how I review something I liked as a teenager? Well, listening to Metallica again, I realized I don't like it as much as I did in the late 90s (not a huge fan, but like them enough to own a few albums). Still some damn-impressive guitar playing and drumming, but the vocals and the whole package just doesn't do it for me anymore. Anthrax is worse Metallica. Much worse. The only question remaining is if Anthrax is worse than Venom... (If I had hair long enough to whip it around when headbanging, would I like this more?) Of the "big four" metal bands of the 80s (Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth, and Anthrax), Anthrax is the only one to never win a Grammy for Best Metal Performance. They even lost out to Tenacious D once, and Tenacious D is at least 1/2 loving parody. We'll see when the other metal bands come up on the list, but I think Anthrax just isn't that good.

I wanted this to be chill background music. And there were definitely hints of really good chill electronica. But there was too much... I'm just gonna say "weirdness." Just when they find a nice groove, there's a radical shift or a new jarring sound mixed in. Ah, finally got to "Remind Me" after 8+ minutes of "Royksopp's Night Out" - I recognize this one! And it totally sticks out on the album. It's good, not great, but the vocals are different from anything else on "Melody A.M." This is nowhere close to reaching the trip-hop heights of Portishead or Massive Attack. Those songs flow, whereas Royksopp just feels disjointed.

"Second Hand News" must feel terrible about itself. Everything else on this album was a massive hit. Like getting picked last for dodgeball teams. Or being the one sibling in a big family that doesn't get good grades. (Ok so I actually didn't know "I Don't Want to Know" or "Oh Daddy" either, but that's only 3 out of 11.) Really, it's ridiculous. I don't know what other album has had such a collection of incredibly well-known songs. I was curious, so I looked through the top 50 albums on Rolling Stone's greatest albums list, trying to find something that comes close. Only "Thriller" seems to be in contention. How much of this is due to my particular musical exposure? I'm pretty sure I've never listened to "Rumors" as an album before. Most of this has gotta be through rock, classic rock, and pop radio. A lot of crossover potential from the songs might've gotten them played across a wider range of stations? I would guess I heard them as a kid in the 80s and 90s on both the classic rock station and "Mix 101.5 - for the best mix of the 70s, 80s, and today!" But I'm pretty sure radio is my only experience with Fleetwood Mac. (Oh, and Hole's cover of "Gold Dust Woman" from the Crow 2 soundtrack! Maybe the best thing Hole did... but I digress...) Of course, much more could be said about the actual music here, or the drama behind the scenes during the recording of the album, but at its core "Rumors" is just an amazing collection of songs, without a dud or a misstep in the bunch.

I went back and listened to “Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus” for a second time when we did “Henry’s Dream,” but I still never reviewed it. Given one more reminder by “Ghosteen,” this third listen comes at an interesting time, having just seen the story of Orpheus portrayed on Broadway in “Hadestown.” Cave’s version is a bit of an odd and different spin on the old myth, though the echoes remain. But stylistically this album bears some resemblance to parts of “Hadestown” - the setting of “Hadestown” in Depression-era New Orleans feels very reminiscent of this evolution of Nick Cave’s dirty dive bar motif. Parts of “Abattoir/Orpheus” certainly remind me of the southern gothic vibe of “Hadestown.” In fact, “O Children” actually sounds like it could have come straight out of “Hadestown’s” Underworld.

Well, I can say that I successfully listened to this album before I died. A bit torn on whether I deeply regret it, or if it was an important step in a well-rounded musical education. So that was "industrial rock." After powering through some of the incredibly awful things in the first few tracks, I realized that there are some moments with some interesting music. There are tidbits of tolerable metal riffs, and occasionally some electronic or string sounds that don't make me cringe. But those are too rare, and ruined by, well, everything else. Not all experimentation should be recorded, sold, and replayed.

So who would've guessed that of all the highly decorated and well-known artists on the list, the first one we would see twice would be Billy Bragg?? When the first Billy Bragg album came up, it was one of our driving days on vacation and we tried it in the car. It wasn't our kind of driving music, so we stopped and never got a chance to come back to it. But with that first album, I thought that name sounded familiar. Why? A little searching revealed this album, and that rang a bell. "Billy Bragg and Wilco" sounded like something I had heard of before. I've only listened to a little Wilco, and never listed to this collaboration, but for some reason I had heard of it. What I didn't know until now was that this was a collection of unrecorded Woody Guthrie songs, and the interesting story of how this came to be. And it turned out to be a great folk rock record. I went back and listened to the Taxman album, and I've gotta say I liked Bragg's voice and the song arrangements on this album better. I thought I would prefer the songs where Wilco's Jeff Tweedy sings lead, but I actually like both. "Way Over Yonder in a Minor Key" was a standout, but only "Hoodoo Voodoo" didn't really do it for me. Good stuff, and I'm glad to have returned to Billy Bragg.

Reflections of a reformed raver... Yes, in college, I was a raver, and yes, I wore big doofy JNCOs. I was not a candy raver (no rainbow jewelry), but definitely hung out with some. I am so sorry to report that I have pretty much no pictures of that time. Such a shame... But the point - I listened to a lot of techno and electronic music from 98-02. And it was stuff like the Chemical Brothers that primed me for that in the mid-90s. It was their second album that I had more exposure to, not this one, but it's fingerprints are definitely on my musical journey in my late teens. So looking back, through significantly less bloodshot eyes, how does it hold up? Pretty well I think. I think there are more/better breaks on "Dig Your Own Hole," and just an overall positive evolution of their sound, but "Exit Planet Dust" is still good. The first half dragged at times, with sections going to long before a break or a new sample, but the second half was better. Apparently "Song to the Siren" was what got them their break, but it was my least favorite on the album. If you need to get in the right mood for this album, just imagine 20-year-old me (looking 16) in my enormous pants trying to do the liquid hands thing.

I run a bit hot and cold on ska music. Horns make a lot of things better, but like most things, too much of a good thing... well, you know. In the 90s I loved No Doubt, but didn't really dig the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. I didn't dig much deeper than that, so I needed a little ska education for context on The Specials. Third wave ska, largely ska punk from the US, is what I had the most familiarity with. The Specials are the forebears of the second wave, in the UK in the late 70s and early 80s, and build on the roots of Jamaican ska. So knowing that, what about "The Specials?" This is the hotter side of ska for me. Lots of great horns, but the guitar playing also stood out. Less punk influence, but I can hear hints of connection to rockabilly and surf rock in places. (Which got me thinking about the evolution of rock subgenres, much as The Chemical Brothers did yesterday for electronic music. Definitely one of the most interesting things for me about hearing all these albums.) "Concrete Jungle" was my favorite track - the only one written by and with lead vocals from lead guitarist Roddy Radiation (born Roddy Byers, but how great is "Roddy Radiation?"). This track connected the most to what seems to be the genesis of The Specials and second wave/two-tone ska - capturing "the disaffection and anger felt by the youth of the UK's 'concrete jungle'—a phrase borrowed from Bob Marley's 1973 album Catch a Fire—used to describe the grim, violent inner cities of 1970s Britain." There was a clear difference between the original Specials tracks and the covers of Jamaican ska classics, but I enjoyed both. I might have to check out more ska...

I thought I had listened to this whole thing before. And still think I probably have. But I don't think I'd ever listened to it really carefully before and tried to figure out what it's all about. Concept albums are funny things. Trying to tell a complex and coherent story using only music, and only rock music at that, is a difficult thing to do. A lot of concept albums or rock operas have a lot going on between the lines, in the minds of the artist, and this is very true of "The Wall." I've never seen the film before, and I don't know how much of the understood story of "The Wall" comes from the music, how much comes from the film, and how much comes from interviews with Pink Floyd over the years. The lyrics themselves were not enough for me to really get a full understanding of what was going on, so I read about the plot on Wikipedia. And it all made sense, but also there was just so much more depth and cohesion than you could gleam by just listening to the songs. Putting together a piece of art that attempts to do what "The Wall" attempts to do is amazing, and there are many amazing deserved classics on the album. But as a concept, as a story, it doesn't quite come together for me. I like the echoes about building the wall in multiple songs, but too much of the story is left out. The dirge style of "The Trial" at the end also felt out-of-place. So I can't quite give it 5, despite several 5-star songs and a 5-star worthy attempt at making a really interesting piece of art.

Meh... served ok as a palette cleanser from The Wall.

It's fine. But why is it on this list? I had never heard of it, so I wanted to see if it was a big deal in 2017 (big enough to include in 1001 albums you must listen to). I looked at 5 top 50 of 2017 lists (NPR, Rolling Stone, Pitchfork, and to include the British perspective that seems heavily weighted on the list, The Guardian and NME). Jane Weaver's "Modern Kosmology" was on none of them.

If the whole album was like the first few songs, it would be 4 or 5 stars. Love the guitar-driven Cubano style on those tracks. The jazzier and piano-focused stuff I like less.

Don't love it. Don't hate it. I actually thought I would like Declan Macmanus' voice even less, but sometimes it was ok. Also, I think he should have stuck with the name Declan. He'd be the only famous rock'n'roller named Declan. But I think there's another Elvis.

A Joni Mitchell 3-in-1 review to catch up… Joni Mitchell sadly doesn’t really do it for me. When her songs are upbeat and fast-paced, they are tolerable, but when they are slow they put me to sleep. The album “Blue” keeps the pace, but has Mitchell too often suddenly and sharply pushing her voice too high. She’s got a great voice actually, but that is not playing to its strengths. “All I Want” and “River” are deserved timeless hits, though. The album “Court and Spark” has less jarring highs, but too slow of a pace.” “Hejira” was the most forgettable of the three. We still have one more Joni to go. We’ll see if “The Hissing of Summer Lawns” grabs me any more.

I'm sure there is a through line from Brian Eno, to Orbital, to the techno I listened to college and beyond. There was a moment while listening to this that I kind of wanted to go back and listen to Brian Eno again to see how it compared to this. But I quickly thought better of it. Unlike Eno, Orbital builds and layers in a way that feels rewarding. (I think, again I'm kind of blocking Eno out and I'm not ready to undo that.) Yes, sometimes certain segments drag on too long, but overall I liked Orbital. It was vaguely familiar at times, but I couldn't figure out if I'd heard this or just similar early house/electronica. Happy to have this on as background music.

Zzzzzz.... Huh? What's that? What time is it? Shit, I slept through... well, nothing - I'm a teacher on summer break. But good grief, this was dull. A good representation of its style, I suppose, and a style that I like more than some kinds of country music, but too... droning? Monotonous? Dull? I dunno, in my groggy post-nap stupor I'm having trouble coming up with the right words. Willie Nelson, early in his career, played on this album. Willie's a cool dude.

A little too slow at times, and I got sick of "Yellow" a long time ago, but I like "Don't Panic," "Shiver," "Spies," and "Everything's Not Lost."

I still think would best, for most of these albums, to go into listening to new music with an open mind and not reading details and reviews in advance. (Not that I'm following that guidance very well.) "Murder Ballads" is not one of those occasions. It's good to know what you're getting into with this one. Are you in the mood to hear ten dark and haunting (both in lyrics and instrumentation) stories of murder? Halfway through the first song I realized - "oh, murder ballads!" I've heard the term before but didn't connect it at first. The dark and twisted cousin of sea shanties? I've never listened to a whole album of murder ballads. And I won't again. Felt a bit like wandering lost in cobblestoned back-alleys of a late 1800s city with poor sanitation, not knowing what horror will await you around the next corner. It's interesting and different, but it's a no from me, dawg. (And that was before "O'Malley's Bar" kept going, and going, and going, with weird grunts and moans...)

It's too bad Arctic Monkey's follow-up, "Favourite Worst Nightmare," isn't on the list. It opens with "Brianstorm" - not a typo -- "Brian Top marks for not tryin' So kind of you to bless us with your effortlessness We're grateful and so strangely comforted" Which reminds me so much of these reviews. I don't think they're "not tryin'," but they do make it seem effortless. As for Arctic Monkeys and "Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not," more top marks are deserved. This was their debut, and they made a huge impact. I listened to their first two albums a lot, but didn't keep up with them. I don't know anything from their 3rd or 4th albums, which I think weren't as commercially successful. (The debut was actually a really huge hit, but I don't recognize any songs from 3 and 4 - no US radio play?) Their 5th, "AM," was also pretty big and I know some of those songs, but I don't know their most recent record. But "Whatever" absolutely holds up. (So does "Favourite.") So much great energy and brilliant lyrics from Alex Turner. He has a refreshingly different English accent and style of singing after too much Brit-pop on the list. I also enjoy the thematic nature of "Whatever," without it being a full concept or story album. I was thinking about going with a 4, because I think "Favourite" is a little bit better (the rare improvement on the sophomore album). However, the more I listen and think about it, the more I realize that they are both 5-star albums for me, with infinite replayability.

Thank you, 1001 Albums Generator! Patti Smith is an artist I've constantly heard of, but never explored beyond "G-L-O-R-I-A." After finally listening to "Horses," I totally get the hype. Sometimes raw and punk, sometimes like an open mic or poetry slam (a good one, not the cringey emo ones). Another thing I've been thinking about with this experiment is the evolution of musical styles. With Patti I thought about the evolution of female rock singers - the 70s took us from Janis Joplin to Patti Smith to Heart to the Slits, and so much of the 80s and 90s was built from those foundations. Without Janis, would any of these women have found their style? I feel like she really opened the door for dynamic rock frontwomen. Patti Smith absolutely takes that opening and runs with it. Between "Birdland," "Land," and "American Pie," it certainly is the week of long songs. Kind of didn't mind the length though - they keep it interesting.

Was this one of the weirdest things to gain popularity in the early 00s? That was a pretty vanilla, mainstream era in American culture I think - boy bands, rap/rock, etc - those were lame, but not weird. Flaming Lips were/are a little bit weird. "She Don't Use Jelly" was almost a decade before this, I think? So they'd been around, but I think it's interesting that this album got as much attention as it did in 2002. Apparently it's not a concept album, according to Wayne Coyne. Could have fooled me. I guess it just is a very thematic album. Kinda like the Arctic Monkeys album earlier this week, replacing all the themes of urban nightlife in Northern England with the existential angst of fighting for survival against pink robots? Further confusing the concept album question is the fact that this was apparently turned into a musical... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbujal3IcZM... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ As for the music... I really have no idea how to talk about the music. I kinda like it, kinda don't. That's all I got.

Ohhhh! It's the sample from "Jump on it!" And the history of sampling "Apache" and that beat's influence on early hip-hop, is pretty deep and interesting. It was cool to check out the doc "Sample This" on Netflix, not least because of the revelation that Gene Simmons has an amazing voice for documentary narration, but also to find out the fascinating connections the Incredible Bongo Band has to the RFK campaign and Charles Manson. So, neat, that gives it a kind of legacy and importance in music history. Other than that, this album is a lot of covers (including "Apache" - not originally theirs) and a lot of drums. Some good/interesting guitar work, a lot of sometimes good sometimes meh organ. But between the "Apache" sample, hearing a familiar tune and going "that sounds like... oh, yeah it's...," and looking down at the name of track 3 as it came on and laughing out loud that they named a song "Bongolia," this was enjoyable enough, if not something I'd seek out again.

I... didn't hate the music? As long as you don't listen to close. Because the closer you listen the worse it gets. I'm lookin' at you, "Rock Against Ass," "Don't Say Motherfucker, Motherfucker," and "Good Head." A lot of it is cringe-i-ly juvenile upon closer inspection. I don't get these dudes. The album cover looks like something from a metal band. They describe themselves as "deathpunk." They are neither of these things. Maybe on other albums? Then I looked up pictures. Hahahahahahaahahahahahaha... whew let me catch my breath... hahahahahahaaha. Happy-Tom's (cause that's his name) sailor schtick! But it's unfair to just target Happy-Tom, because the whole band's look is... somethin'. And the denim phase! I was feeling like giving them a generous 2 before finding out more about them and their aesthetic.

Today I learned that Sepultura is Brazilian, and that it means "grave" in Portuguese. Unfortunately, this did not make me like their music any more. I wonder if there is a thrash metal band out there somewhere that I would like. Metallica is kind of on the edge of that genre, and as I think I discussed previously, when going back to Metallica now I don't like it as much as I did 20 years ago. There is a lot of potential in the soaring guitars and rapid-fire drumming, but it rarely comes together in an appealing way for more than a minute at a time. Then there is the growling singing style that seems a hallmark of the genre. Are there thrash metal bands with higher, more melodious vocals? I'd be interested to try that. Oooh, or a thrash metal band with a female vocalist? Gonna go search for that, because Sepultura isn't doing it for me.

There’s that early 80s British post-punk vocal style I can’t stand popping up again. The only tracks I really found tolerable or repeatable on The Teardrop Explodes’ “Kilimanjaro” were “Second Head” and “Poppies in the Field,” which have some good drums and bass lines that could be great in the hands of a different singer. “Use Me,” a stripped down acoustic guitar piece by Julian Cope solo, was decent too despite some intrusive yalping and excessive length. But “Use Me” it turns out wasn’t even on the original album - it’s from a 2000 reissue that I unwittingly listened to. That subjected me to the songs “Kilimanjaro” (weirdly not on the original album “Kilimanjaro”) and “Strange House in the Snow,” both of which made me want to explode. But I guess I can’t count that against the album? Regardless, The Teardrop Explodes exploded, repeatedly, over the next couple years. It all ended with one of the band members chasing another through the hillside with a shotgun, and Cope walking out of the recording sessions before the 3rd album was done and having to still go on tour with the band sulking and moping the whole way. He would go off to launch a solo career, which took 7 meandering albums to get him on the list again with “Peggy Suicide,” barely more listenable than “Kilimanjaro.”

The cover of "Vincebus Eruptum" couldn't be more late-60s psychedelic rock if it tried. While I had never heard of Blue Cheer, I knew before hitting play what was coming. The album was apparently successful at the time, but seems to have been mostly lost in the annals of classic rock history. It's nice to see more of the musical depth of the late 60s than what we've gleamed from classic rock radio, but I think I can see why Blue Cheer hasn't made as much of a lasting impact. They take psychedelic rock to a bit of a heavier place, with a little less focus and tightness that made the genre work in spite of its drug-induced, free-wheelin' inspirations.

I gave Morrissey a chance. And in doing so, at times during this record, I thought his voice worked - it fits the music and creates something cohesive, if not quite my bag. Other times I felt like it was just too much, not really fitting with the track, and sometimes just overwhelming the instrumentation. Where it works - "Cemetry Gates," "The Boy With the Thorn in His Side," "There is a Light That Never Goes Out." Where it doesn't - "Frankly, Mr. Shankly" and "Vicar With a Tutu" to great extent, and everywhere else a bit? After three tracks I liked the Smiths less than I had before listening to this album. (Only had heard some singles.) After the full album I liked them a little bit more than before beginning. So I don't know where I'm at. I would really like to look up some covers of some of these songs, to hear what they are like without Morrissey's vocal indulgences. Sometimes voices "work" in interesting places/arrangements. Morrissey's voice fits very well with the vibe and instrumentation of "There is a Light That Never Goes Out," though I don't really like the song. As I write this while listening to "Siamese Dream," I can only think about how Billy Corgan has a unique voice that probably wouldn't work in a lot of arrangements? Yet I think it weirdly fits amazingly well with the Smashing Pumpkins' sound. Morrissey's voice just doesn't always meld in that same magical way with the Smith's sound so that vocals and instrumentals elevate each other.

"Siamese Dream" is pretty tortured. I'm not tortured now, and don't think I was in the 90s (although most teens feel tortured to some extent?), certainly not like Corgan (with abuse during his childhood and recent relationship issues framing much of early Pumpkins), but damned if this album doesn't just do it for me anyway. I really like this album, maybe even more than I did in the 90s. It is intense and filled with agonized passion - it's raw and exposed and vulnerable and electric - both in subject matter and musical vibe. Like a lot of 90s alt-rock and grunge, the lyrics are poetic and often indecipherable, but it doesn't matter (to me). Breathy when it needs to be breathy, screaming earnestly at just the right peaks. James Iha's guitar (though apparently Corgan was super controlling in the studio and recorded everyone's parts himself) is alternatingly crunchy, soaring, soft - for some tracks they apparently layered and overdubbed the guitar parts dozens of times. Whatever that means, they get an amazing rich sound out of it. Pretty sure back in the day I put on my headphones and zoned out to this album like Mitch at the end of "Dazed and Confused." (This is not the album on this list that I would have expected to be the first to make me think of that top 5 of all-time movie, but I am sure it won't be the last.) The first half of the album is filled with gems, hitting a crescendo with "Disarm," brilliant and haunting with its orchestral build hinting at the softer direction for parts of "Mellon Collie." But they interweave hard-edged rage with soft emotional rawness seamlessly in numerous places, even better on "Siamese Dream" than on "Mellon Collie." Smashing Pumpkins stands out sonically from other early 90s alt-rock - it doesn't really fit with the Northwest grunge sound, doesn't fit with punk rock, doesn't fit with lo-fi shoegaze, Smashing Pumpkins really carved their own unique space.

Like most soul, "Mama's Gun" is incredibly smooth. However, I was expecting Erykah Badu to do more to really stand out, as I remembered her emergence in the 90s being a big deal for the genre. But I'm not really getting that here. Seems like pretty straightforward soul, though I say that without much knowledge of soul music, though there were a couple of bits of funk that made for a nice shift. Overall this is just fine, but mostly for background listening.

Did The Byrds have short attention spans? A classic rock album where the longest song is 3:28? Even with the shorter song lengths, multiple songs devolve into weird sounds or tangents. "Time Between" is nice - "through love and trust it's gonna work out fine" - but it's cut so short at under 2 minutes. That works great sometimes for a fast-paced punk sprint, but feels odd with a ballad like this. There was also too much experimenting with weird or unorthodox sounds or instruments; it seemed random and often didn't fit the song. (Ah... "the album captured the band and record producer Gary Usher experimenting with new musical textures, including brass instruments, reverse tape effects and an electronic oscillator.") "Mind Gardens" could be a nice, interesting song, but instead it's not. And sometimes they sound like they are trying to sing in British accents? Overall, I preferred "The Notorious Byrd Brothers" and felt like there was a lot of unrealized potential marred by experimentation on "Younger Than Yesterday." That one got a high 3, this one gets a low 3.

I was at first surprised to see a live album, but then remembered Johnny Cash. (Oh, and Fela Kuti!) Still, I feel like if you are going to include live albums on the list, there have gotta be better options than this? What makes this so special? It's not even one show! It's a compilation of live songs from several different shows. I prefer to hear one live show straight through, but perhaps there is also merit to culling the best songs from a tour? It kicks off with "Ace of Spades," and I give it a chance. It's the Motörhead song I'm most familiar with. Look - Lemmy doesn't have a great voice. But it kinda works with their sound. "Ace of Spades" also has some terrific guitar work. "Stay Clean"... not so much. It's a little more uneven after "Ace of Spades," but there is still some decent stuff worth noting. The soloing on "Metropolis" sounds like it probably inspired Pearl Jam's Stone Gossard - sounds a lot like the guitar vibe of "Ten" (which PJ never quite repeated). The start of "Iron Horse" also sounds pretty grunge-y. Motörhead is credited with inspiring the trash metal of the 80s, but their sound seems to have influenced a lot of grunge and alt rock as well. The riff in "No Class" reminds me of Queens of the Stone Age, but either the composition of the song is a bit rough, or the performance was. Parts of "No Sleep 'til Hammersmith" made me wonder where the line between metal and punk or grunge lies, and I like hearing stuff that walks the line between genres rather than playing things too safe and familiar. With early summer's hope of hearing live music again soon now fading, if you are looking for more classic live albums, check out Rolling Stones' 50 best live albums of all time - https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-lists/50-greatest-live-albums-of-all-time-173246/

Another 3-in-1 hip hop review, this time tracing the thread from N.W.A.’s “Straight Outta Compton” through Ice T’s “OG Original Gangster” to Dr. Dre’s “The Chronic.” There are a lot of albums that “changed” hip hop, and “Straight Outta Compton” may be peak among them. Peak for impact, not peak for quality. They may not have created gangsta rap, but N.W.A. took it mainstream with their platinum hit album, forcing America to come to terms with life in inner city minority neighborhoods like Compton and popularizing the use of the n-word in hip hop. Incredibly impactful, but musically it’s stuck in 80s hip hop without signs of evolving. That evolution wasn’t necessarily needed though - by far the best part of the album is when Dr. Dre emerges with “Express Yourself.” It’s old school, it’s not violent or profane, and it shows that style can work in a timeless way. As for the rest, Ice Cube’s rapping is pretty solid, whereas MC Ren makes no real impact and Easy E’s nasally rapping is the worst part of the album. On the other hand, Ice T is a better rapper than anyone in N.W.A. (except maybe Dr. Dre, who was mostly limited to small features outside of “Express Yourself”). Ice T is such an OG, he had to tell the rest of America what OG means. He didn’t create the term, any more than he created gangsta rap, but helped bring it to the masses. “OG Original Gangster” is at once a coda for the early days of hip hop and a declaration that gangsta rap would dominate the next decade. The production and musicality is much better than “Straight Outta Compton” (though in a style that was firmly on its way out), and T’s rapping also stood above other MCs. Ice T may be the OG, but as an OG, he’s older and wiser and better able to reflect on where they’ve been and where they’re going. While those who followed in his footsteps often succumbed to the gangsta life, Ice T emerged on the other side with a career in film and TV, and is today probably more known for his role on Law & Order SVU than for his rap music. After Ice T and N.W.A. opened the door, Dr. Dre left N.W.A. and began a solo and rapping career that would fully establish West Coast gangsta rap as -the- rap genre of the 90s. “The Chronic” presented a serious evolution in sound from “Straight Outta Compton” or “OG Original Gangsta.” The themes remained the same, but the edge got even harder and the early trappings and influences of hip hop faded away. My group member pretentious-ass wrote (4 years ago, when I was supposed to review this) that “The Chronic killed hip-hop.” And I think in a lot of ways he’s right. Something different emerged from it, but it was something far removed from Ice T, N.W.A., and everything before it. West Coast gangsta rap after “The Chronic” did seem to become all-consuming, sucking the oxygen away from alternative hip hop and any other style.

Look, we all loved some "Dookie." It was dumb punk fun. But we're not gonna pretend that Green Day didn't go gradually downhill from there in their next several albums. There were some hits in there, but nothing that hinted that they had "American Idiot" in them. I don't think Green Day was taken very seriously before "American Idiot." They were a raucous punk band, but mainstream enough to be MTV darlings and probably the band most responsible for the unfortunate wave of pop-punk of the late 90s and early 00s. (Take a star off for that if you want.) But holy crap was "American Idiot" ambitious. And I think it's the best they've ever sounded. (Who knows, maybe I would eat my words if I went back and listened to all of "Insomniac" or "Nimrod.") They cleaned up and polished their sound, and while that may sound bad for a punk band, they pulled it off so well. Regardless of any concept in the story or lyrics, Green Day really matured sonically. The punk is still there, but the songs are varied, well-structured, with great build and rise-and-fall throughout. You may not love Billy Joe's voice - it's nasally and a bit whiny - but I think you can tell here that he is becoming a better singer. It's really a great album, start to finish. It may not be the Great American Novel of the 21st century, but it's a solid concept with good lyrics for a vaguely political punk album. And it became a musical! Are Green Day sell-outs? Or did they just perfect what they do and be accepted for it?

Man, does this take me back. Most of the 90s music that has come up so far have been things I have heard at least a bit of in the intervening decades. I didn't listen to Goldie or drum and bass until 98/99, then listened to it a lot for 4-5 years, and then haven't touched it since then. But it sure is familiar - took me back to that time about as much as it could without drugs and JNCOs. My good friend, who used the unfortunate moniker DJ Goon, used the first track in one of his mixtapes. "Inner city life/inner city pressure" immediately felt familiar - and missed! "Timeless" works great as background, but it rewards closer listening. Just as it settles in too much and gets too repetitive, it hits you with a break that just washes over you. Drum and bass presented an incredible leveling up of ambient music. Brian Eno walked so Goldie could run.

No screams, let alone primal. I wanted something raw, guttural, from the soul. Instead, it was... I don't know, what was it? One moment it was Brit-pop, the next it was NIN-lite, the next it was trance-y/trip-hop, then it sounded like Radiohead... I'm convinced this album was made by four different bands, not one. The only connecting tissue I found was that I think multiple songs had weird background moaning about "original sin?" There is definitely some decent and listenable stuff in "Vanishing Point," but it is too disjointed and scattered to rate highly as an album. I liked "Trainspotting." But I didn't keep track of which song was which style to comment further, and Primal Scream didn't do enough to move me to go back through it for a re-listen to figure it out.

There are elements of the more unique bluesy garage rock that would come to define the White Stripes in this debut, but Jack and Meg White hadn't quite shaped their sound on "White Blood Cells." There's a lot to like here. "Hotel Yorba" is such a fun little romp, "We're Going to be Friends" is adorable, and "Fell in Love with a Girl" is just flat-out amazing. But revisiting this album I was surprised to notice what felt like hints of late-stage grunge. I've always liked "Dead Leaves on the Dirty Ground," but realized that until Jack starts singing, it is fairly uninspired grunge crunch. It actually weirdly reminded me of Silverchair... I don't know why, but that's the band I thought of. Don't get me wrong, Silverchair is actually vastly underrated. But it's not the eye-opening opening-track punch of "Seven Nation Army."

I don't actually know that much about CSNY, other than they're status as a classic rock supergroup. But there was a lot of familiarity in these songs. So much so that I had to look up whether this was an album of cover songs. Seriously, Wikipedia? Are you sure that "Our House" isn't a cover of a British Invasion song? Is there no chance "Helpless" was originally a gospel song? Adding to that feeling is the supergroup-y nature of the tracks - each of the four members writing songs that feel very different. "Almost Cut My Hair" is completely forgettable. But "Teach Your Children" is timeless, and the harmonies on that song and a few others stand out head-and-shoulders above those prominently featuring one member. I'm gonna wait to weigh in on Neil Young's voice until we listen to a full album of just him. For now, let's just say his is not my favorite voice in CSNY. The songs that feel more like collaborations between the four band members are the best (even if the actual recording process wasn't so united).

It's kind of hard to put into words how amazing "The Bends" is. Radiohead, particularly the later stuff post-"OK Computer," can be pretty polarizing. Many are put off by Thom Yorke's wailing or the samples and computer blips or whatever. (I am not in this group.) But on "The Bends" what you get is peak Radiohead. A band that moved past a really solid but not groundbreaking debut to deliver a sophomore album that was a mature and unique example of a band finding their sound. (And then they continued to play with and tweak that sound relentlessly for the next decade. To subvert expectations? Who knows what's in the mind of these guys.) While Yorke's moaning and wailing are more exaggerated on later albums (while still working for me most of the time), on this album the vocals are a perfect instrument to complement the guitars (which do some wailing themselves, in a good way) and percussion. There are some songs where you can actually understand a bunch of the words(!), and Yorke writes some powerful lyrics. There are too many stellar songs to single them all out. It is a complete package, without a dud, from start to finish. I was curious for another perspective on the 1000 greatest albums one day when I was frustrated by another middling English band that never made it big across the pond, and found a list created by Colin Larkin in the late 90s, last updated in 2000. Unlike "1001 Albums You Must Listen to Before You Die," Larkin's list allowed fan voting from around the world. The top 10 is heavy with Beatles, as expected, but #2 is "The Bends." That's how good and influential this album is. While "Pablo Honey" feels fairly 90s, "The Bends" feels timeless. I think I like it even more every time I listen.

"We'll see when the other metal bands come up on the list, but I think Anthrax just isn't that good." Which takes us to the first of the "Big 4" metal bands to come up since that disappointing day we received Anthrax in late July. And what's the verdict? Megadeth's "Peace Sells..." is better than Anthrax. Though of course, that's not saying much. I don't like Dave Mustaine's vocals. I also don't completely hate them? Some of the guitar playing stands out as different than what I expect from 80s thrash metal, such as on "I Ain't Superstitious." There were also a few tracks with some segments that sounded a bit proggy. None of this saves it. **, and only to distinguish it from Anthrax and Sepultura.

It's fine. Al Green is smooth. But nothing makes a lasting impression past "Let's Stay Together."

This week brought us CSNY, Radiohead, Megadeth, Al Green, and now the Allman Brothers. While I love when favorites come up on the list, it's also been great getting exposed to variety. But this isn't the Allman Brothers I was expecting. I was expecting "Ramblin' Man" - twangier Southern rock. But "At Fillmore East" is blues! Slide guitar, string bending, harmonicas a-plenty... Unfortunately the style shifts later in the album, with the incorporation of the organ on "Hot 'Lanta" and "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed." There is still a lot to like on those tracks (continued great guitar playing), but it doesn't rise to the levels of the blues covers early on. They bring it back around though with "Whipping Post" at the end. After following this up by listening to some of their most popular songs, I can say that I enjoy this much more. The other stuff would be ***, but "At Fillmore East" nearly makes *****.

Is this Brazilian lounge music? I don't really know what lounge music is, but it might be this? This list has a well-observed bias for American and UK rock music. There is occasional token representation from the rest of the world - sometimes the selections fit as an influential example of the evolution of musical styles and fusions. But why is this relatively boring Brazilian album from 1968 such a must listen in music history? The finale, "Eles," was the only song that was interesting. And then it was thankfully over.

"White Light" did nothing for me. It's not offensive or objectionable, but it is boring. Apparently Gene Clark was in the Byrds. Whatever.

This is not the Drake of Degrassi fame. I'm sure he gets that alot. Or maybe it goes the other way. Maybe Aubrey Graham wishes he didn't use his middle name as his stage name, because people keep thinking he's a British folk singer. But now he's stuck with it. It fits though. Nick Drake looks like a Nick Drake. Drake doesn't look like an Aubrey. I went back to find my review for "Pink Moon" to find out if I commented on Nick Drake's voice. I didn't. So that's a thing to focus on here. It's not an accent thing. I don't think. It's just the way Drake enunciates in his singing. Now I want to go find an interview with him to see if he talks at all like that. I like his voice. I just don't like the way he sings. Not all of the time, but enough to matter. In general, "Five Leaves Left" is also too slow and muted/quiet - at least for the mood I was in when I listened. A few tracks had a bit of a faster pace, but slow strings and even a flute somewhere killed it for me.

"Rocks" is one of three Aerosmith albums on the list. There is one other from their very productive 70s, and "Pump" from 1989. In that, they stand out from other classic rock bands in the career revitalization they experienced in the 1990s. And that's without even including "Get a Grip" (1993) on the list, and it is their best-selling album. In fact, why is "Get a Grip" left out? Half the album were hits, and their Liv Tyler/Alicia Silverstone-fueled videos created a whole new generation of Aerosmith fans. "Rocks" opens with the track I knew best - "Back in the Saddle" - with great arena-ready classic rock energy. "Last Child" sounds familiar, and delivers some blues stylings before a break to a great Joe Perry guitar solo. The rest was unfamiliar, and mostly just ok. Not great. No hidden gems really stand out from the pack. "Nobody's Fault" was kinda bad. Overall "Rocks" was a surprise, and not in a good way - I expected more.

Screaming Trees were at the forefront of the grunge wave in the late 80s... and then kinda got left behind as the genre exploded in the early 90s. They never reached the heights that their compatriots achieved commercially, though apparently "Dust" was critically acclaimed. I'm not really sure why though. I know "All I Know," but I'm not familiar with the rest of the album. The Screaming Trees song I know best is "Nearly Lost You," off 1992's "Sweet Oblivion," mostly because it was on the soundtrack to the movie "Singles" alongside Pearl Jam, Soundgarden's Chris Cornell, and Alice in Chains. What does Screaming Trees not have in common with those bands? I'm kind of at a loss to explain why this was a well-received album. It was voted best album of 1996 by Kerrang! magazine!? Tool's "Ænima" came out that year, among others much better than "Dust." Because "Dust" is pretty unspectacular. It's fairly run-of-the-mill grunge. I don't get much of the folk and blues influence the Wikipedia article claims it has. At the end of the day, I've still got "Nearly Lost You" stuck in my head, even though I didn't actually listen to it today.

Well! I was not expecting that, and was pleasantly surprised. The guitar playing and arrangements are what make this album stand out. I've never heard Television before (I mean, I've heard a television, but I've never heard Television), and I'm now surprised that they aren't more well-known. They broke up after only 2 albums, and maybe this isn't easy to place in a radio format? But other punk rock and post-punk bands of the late 70s have found their way to me somehow. Definitely wish I had heard Television sooner. The guitars that start "See No Evil" immediately piqued my interest, but then Tom Verlaine's vocals just as quickly gave me cause for concern. In the end, Verlaine's singing grew on me a bit, but his voice is the one thing keeping "Marquee Moon" from *****. Ok, so I wrote most this after the title track, the 10+ minute "Marquee Moon." Even at that length, I was with it the whole way. And so naturally, I wrote my review too soon. Then I finished the album, and then listened again. After “Elevation” it never really gets back to those heights. However, those first five tracks are an easy ****. So is the rest bad enough to drag down the star rating? "Guiding Light" and "Prove It" are ok, but "Torn Curtain" almost did it. The more psychedelic sound was not as good, and for some strange reason the vocals kept reminding me of the scene in "Dumb and Dumber" where they are in the car singing "Mock-ing, bird, yeah." I'm torn... (get it?)...

I am not at all familiar with Suzanne Vega, but I could instantly tell how much she paved the way for the singer-songwriters and alt folk of the 90s. I'm amazed that this came out in 1985. Vega won me over with her sometimes slightly off-kilter style paired with interesting guitar picking and arrangements. Lyrically interesting as well. Again, her influence on the entire Lilith generation is very clear. On her self-titled debut, "Cracking," "Small Blue Thing," and "Undertow" stand out. I wanted to know why I didn't know any Suzanne Vega, so I looked deeper and found that "Tom's Diner" was her most famous song. So I listened to that from her second album. I said "I know this song! But not this way??" The remixed version with DNA, which I discovered was the version I knew well, is so much better. The second song from her sophomore effort, "Luka," also sounded super familiar, but I don't know that song? It must really remind me of some similar song? @hell-yeah - No idea how this puts a person to sleep any more than "Five Leaves Left."

George Michael, what is/was wrong with you, dude? There is so much to unpack in the transition from "Father Figure" to "I Want Your Sex." Come again, George? You talkin' to me? You can't have my sex. Especially with those awful lyrics. For 9 minutes and 17 seconds!? "I will be your father figure... I will be your preacher teacher," into "I'm not your father/ I'm not your brother." And who or what is "One More Try" about? Hoping the teacher referenced there is an older partner, and not an actual school teacher. Though considering the preceding songs, all bets are off. "Faith" stands the test of time, and holds up very well, but I feel bad for it. Even after you get through the weird stuff, there's a string of less offensive songs that really wear out their welcome with 4-5 minute lengths. "Faith" was completely forgotten about after what followed, unfortunately.

"The Earth Died Screaming" - yeah, it did, Tom. Because you started singing. "Bone Machine" is at its best when the vibe is spooky, and the restrained percussion surrounds you subtly. It still doesn't make it my cup of tea, or what I would listen to for funsies, but to each their own? My college roommate, Frank, loved Tom Waits. And heavy metal. I never understood it. Still don't. Personally. But it totally fit Frank, a big guy who can be equally cuddly teddy bear and slightly frightening brooding darkness. Waits' voice is cool for specific purposes. I can see it being used to set the tone in some kind of dark, macabre show or movie. In fact, his songs have apparently been used in 29 movies or TV shows. "Peaky Blinders" and "12 Monkeys" make sense. Multiple times in "Gilmore Girls" was a surprise though.

This is your fault, Brian Eno!! I saw it was Aphex Twin, and thought “oh didn’t they have that one really weird music video? I’ve heard of them.” Then I saw the title. More ambient music 😖 A lot of these ambient works sound like great background music for haunted houses and video games where you are figuring out creepy puzzles (Myst!) or getting lost in dungeons with who-knows-what lurking around the corner. And for those purposes, this would be really fitting. But to just sit and listen, for 2 hours and 36 minutes!? No thanks. There is definitely instrumental stuff that is good for background while you work or whatever. This isn't it. (The music video was for "Come to Daddy." It was messed up. That song sounds way more like Prodigy-type late 90s semi-popular drum and bass. But it's not good.) ------------------------- Ok, so all of the above nonsense was written while I was mistakenly listening to the wrong album. Some of it still applies. But not the haunted house/dungeon thing. This album of selected ambient works sounds totally different than Aphex Twin's other selected ambient works. This one has a beat. This is closer to dance music, while the other one is background music. There's some decent stuff here, but a couple that I didn't like. But it's really amazing how different this is from their other ambient album.

The cardigan was named after James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, a British Army major general who led the Charge of the Light Brigade at the Battle of Balaclava during the Crimean War. A cardigan is supposed to be cozy and soft. But the Cardigans are like that sweater that you wished you like more, but there’s just something… scratchy? Musty? It’s just not right. It’s Nina Persson’s voice mostly. I just don’t like it. It’s not just that it’s too high and babyish or twee or something. I like Diet Cig, who’s singer has the same kinda thing going on. I mean, it’s really just “Lovefool” though - I can’t stand that song. The rest isn’t so objectionable. The flute solo on “Your New Cuckoo” deserves mention. "Been It" has a weirdly deep and crunchy guitar riff that stands in interesting contrast to their style. And the percussion on “Heartbreaker” is almost special. But the highlight was seeing the song title “Iron Man” pop up and pre-writing in my head about how much I wished it would kick in with “I… AM… IRON MAN!” knowing that it wouldn’t happen. And then it happened! These silly Swedes actually covered Sabbath two songs after “Lovefool!”

When I think of Sinead O'Connor, I think of "Nothing Compares 2 U." So the tracks on this album that are faster-paced rockers were surprising. There was a nice mix of the slower, more haunting songs with faster songs that wouldn't be out of place coming from the Cranberries. I was actually surprised (pleasantly) how much similarity I heard between the two. "I Am Stretched on Your Grave" fit that more haunting mold, and I loved when the Irish violin/fiddle kicked in. "Black Boys on Mopeds" was a highlight, getting political in calling out the hypocrisy of the British government and society and previewing the stand O'Connor took two years later when she called out the Pope on SNL.

Love that drumroll intro and the beat kicks in and then... "uh huh, uh huh, wooo!" The uhs and woos are my least favorite Jay-Z thing. But "The Ruler's Back" was quickly redeemed with smart lyrics, good flow, and the horns! This week, the high school girls soccer team I coach sent a playlist to me that they wanted played on the PA before their game. It took them three attempts to send me a list that wasn't completely inappropriate. The themes of too many of the songs were either drugs, being misogynistic, or both. The lyrics were uninspired, uncreative, and overfilled with curse words and the n-word seemingly just because they could. And that's before we even start talking about the generic beats. Sure, they were inappropriate for a soccer game crowd that included their younger siblings. But they were also just trashy songs. Jay-Z's might be the last great crossover megastar of good mainstream rap music. He carried the legacy of 90s rap into the 21st century, and those attempting to reach those heights in the last decade (Kanye, Kendrick, Chance, all making great music) are more polarizing in both style and personality. There is still good rap and hip hop today, but it doesn't get the attention that far inferior tracks and styles get. (I'm lookin' at you, trap music. This is mostly your fault.) As for "The Blueprint" - just as I was getting tired of it, finding it a bit repetitive, in comes the funk, then some soul, then the "ain't no love in the heart of the city" sample. The Eminem verse in "Renegade" was the biggest departure for the album - I like Eminem (though certainly not as much as I used to) but it was kind of a jarring shift from the style of the rest of the album. It's not in my top 10 or probably even 20 rap albums (Jay's just not my favorite - see the opening comment about the "uhs," though I didn't notice them as much as I thought I would at first), but it is very listenable and consistently high-quality. I started with what I like least about Jay-Z, so I'll end with what I like best. Well, it's really more Jay-Z adjacent. Danger Mouse made a mash-up album of Jay-Z's "Black Album" and the Beatles' "White Album," called "The Grey Album." It's fascinating. If you've never heard it - https://soundcloud.com/blainepwilson/sets/danger-mouse-the-grey-album

The power of positivity! Jurassic 5 has long been a hip hop favorite of mine. "Power in Numbers" and their debut, "Quality Control," are both standouts for their message, creativity, and collaborative effort. J5 features 4 rappers (and 2 DJs - which does not equal 5), all with unique voices that come together for choruses and harmonies. Chali 2na's deep flow is my favorite, but there isn't a weak voice in the group, and all deliver with incredibly creative writing and rhyming. With rap music generally way too caught up in objectification of women, violence, and drugs, the comparative positivity of Jurassic 5 is refreshing. They were not the only group cultivating their style and skill rather than trying to be edgy and hard - and they deserve acclaim alongside Tribe Called Quest, The Roots, De La Soul, and others. "Power in Numbers" is a throwback to the 80s with breaks, scratches, (lots of credit to DJ Nu-Mark and Cut Chemist for shaping that sound), but it still feels (or felt?) fresh.

TIL that Carlos Santana was not the lead singer of Santana. "Mother's Daughter" was when it occurred to me - it was not the voice I was expecting. I only previously knew "Black Magic Woman" and "Oye Como Vas" from this album, and always assumed it was Santana singing. Speaking of that singing, when the album transitions from more Latin-influenced or traditional songs back to more typical classic rock, the singers powerful voice coming back has a bit of a jarring effect. While I enjoy bands with the ability to interweave multiple styles into a cohesive whole, I don't think it feels cohesive with "Abraxas." It feels like two completely different bands. Both decent-to-good, but neither really stand out.

Do you remember that time earlier this year when everyone made a really big deal about the 30th anniversary of this album? No? That's because nobody remembers Teenage Fanclub, and any acclaim this album received back in '91 has been lost to time. ]"Bandwagonesque was voted 'album of the year' for 1991 by American music magazine Spin, famously beating Nirvana's landmark album Nevermind." Hahahahahaha.... hahahahaha! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Do you know who likes astrological signs? Teenage girls. They’ve got apps that give them daily horoscopes and other jazz. But astrology thinks I’m a Virgo. My 8th grade science teacher looked up the orientation of the night sky when I was born and said that I’m actually a Leo. Do you know who's thoughts on astrology are vague and confusing? Teenage Fanclub. I don’t know what “Star Sign” is trying to say. Apparently it was their biggest hit though. Probably with teenage girls in their teenage fanclub who love that stuff. The rest of the songs made little-to-no impact. "Satan" and "What You Do to Me" and "Pet Rock" were wastes. They weren't interesting enough as near-instrumentals or interludes to be worth it. And the rest of the songs were rather generic. I don't know how Spin got this one so wrong. Their other album of the year picks seem pretty standard and acceptable. Oh well. The music itself is a 3. Harmless, only one or two songs I would actively run away from. I'm trying real hard not to dock it an extra star for Spin's overhype.

Irish singers > British singers (too many meh British singers so far in the 1001) Also, traditional Irish music > traditional British music And Irish pub music is the peak embodiment. I prefer a little more traditional/folkier than the Pogues, or a little punkier than the Pogues. They are just in a bit of a vague space in between that, while I enjoyed the album, keeps it from being one of my favorite Irish pub rock albums.

I'm glad didn’t write down my initial thoughts on Haircut One Hundred after reading that it was yet another British new wave band, or I would be digesting that piece of paper right now. The idiom eat my words dates back to at least the 1570s, but no one knows the origins of the phrase. I'm envisioning some 1300s pre-printing press monk writing something blasphemous and being ordered to chew that vellum up. Kind of like jerky? Except they didn't have any good flavor or spice in Europe in the 1300s... But I was wrong. Haircut One Hundred is not your average new wave band. In fact, I think new wave is a bit of a mischaracterization of their sound. The singer's voice does fit in that genre, but that is where it stops for most of the tracks. The tight collaboration of saxophones, trumpets, drums (even bongos!), and rhythm guitar set their sound apart, and create a fun dance vibe. The horns sometimes veer too far into poppy island/yacht rock territory, but when it’s funky and jazzy, it’s quite good. It's almost good enough to make up for vocals that very much fit into British new wave. But this was way more interesting to me than most new wave, largely thanks to the aforementioned jazz and funk influences.

I'm surprised to find a Q-Tip solo album on the list. I've heard Q-Tip's work with the incomparable Tribe Called Quest, but had never heard his solo stuff. Following on the heels of the Haircut One Hundred this week, here's another album where jazz stylings elevate the work above others in its genre. "The Renaissance" is a little less hip-hop focused than Tribe albums - it's still there, but there is also plenty of soul and funk. (I don't know, on repeated listens maybe this isn't so true... I'll have to go back and listen to Tribe.) Q-Tip has this should-be-too-high-but-somehow-works kind of voice. His super smooth flow probably helps it work. The style is great - great flow, great lyricism. But I feel like there aren't great hooks or choruses that would make it really memorable for the most part. A great collection of chill alternative hip-hop songs, but as a result it fades into the background a bit too easily.

"Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" was an unexpectedly rockin' opener. I think of Elton John's music as very piano-centric. However, even "Candle in the Wind" had more guitar than the version in my head does. Following "Love Lies Bleeding" there are a short run of big hits that hold up very well, but it is still a slow but steady downward progression until the album hits the low point of "Jamaica Jerk-Off." Then rebounds a bit. "I’ve Seen That Movie Too" has a slow start, but picks up too little too late at the end, and then there is a decent little run that ends with "All the Girls Love Alice." Overall, the right songs were the hit singles with the exception of the opener. A 4/5 star album needs more consistency. This doesn’t have it.

We previously reviewed "Sticky Fingers." It was great. "Beggars Banquet" is not as great. Not even close. It starts out with one of the best openings ever. The drums and primal screams, followed by "Please allow me to introduce myself," sets a hopeful tone for "Beggars Banquet." This is gonna be so cool and have so much attitude! But that doesn't last. It doesn't even last the full six minutes of "Sympathy for the Devil," because that song is great for 4-5 minutes, but the fifth minute of "woo woos" is just a bit too much. Six minutes of "Jigsaw Puzzle" was too much too. And in between those two tracks were three boring songs that were hard to recover from. "Street Fighting Man" is great, and "Factory Girl" is ok, but there's just not a lot here that stands out in a good way. The Stones were incredibly prolific in the late 60s. Were there even any B-sides or tracks left on the cutting room floor? Because some of these should have been.

I never knew there was a pre-disco version of the Bee Gees. Turns out I didn't really need to know either. I'm not a disco fan. But I accept the iconic role the Bee Gees had in shaping that era in music and culture. However, "Odessa" feels like an also-ran in a late-60s era of much better, similar music.

An argot is not "Argo." "Argo" was a movie about the 1979 Iranian Hostage Crisis starring Ben Affleck. Pretty decent flick. Argo was the ship that Jason and the Argonauts built with help from the gods. Argot is neither of those things. It's a slang language used to prevent outsiders from understanding conversations. Y'know, like pig Latin. And actually, the argot from which the name "Gotan Project" derives - Lunfardo, an argot of Rioplatense Spanish (the dialect spoken in Argentina) - is a lot like pig Latin. Tango, with beats and breaks and jazz elements, from a Paris trio with Argentine, French, and Swiss members? Well that sounds interesting. And the style is interesting... for a little while. Then it all blends into the background and feels little same-y. When the Argentinian tango sound is most prevalent is when Gotan Project are at their best. Otherwise it's usually just pretty generic late 90s/early 00s electronica. Reminds me of Portishead, just not nearly as good. But of course, is anyone? Again, when the tango is the driving force in songs, it's better. Iyay ivegay ityay eethray arsstay. Ecentday inyay ethay ackgroundbay.

I'm just left wondering what The Smiths would sound like with another singer. Keep all of Johnny Marr's arrangements and guitar playing, but trade Morrissey for... I don't know who. Got any ideas? Because I have never been able to get into Morrissey's voice. I do like "Strangeways" better than "The Queen is Dead." Marr's aforementioned arrangements are great. But my focus kept drifting away, likely as a way not to notice Morrissey so much. That's as far as I can go and as detailed as I can get after 2 1/2 listens. So if you've got an idea for a who's voice would fit better with The Smith's music, let me know. (I tried listening to some covers - Jeff Buckley's "I Know It's Over" was great, because... Jeff Buckley - but it's not the same.)

With a name like Herbie Hancock, who could go wrong!? And it's his real name, not a stage name! Born Herbert Hancock, and who wouldn't shorten that to Herbie because Herbies are famous. Like Herbie the Love Bug, that charming(?) automobile, maybe Herbie Hancock is more known for his name than his music? Because I don't know this album. Though I did watch Herbie the Love Bug. Not sure I could tell you what it's about other than a talking(?) car though. Oh! It's because I know Herbie Hancock for a song that sounds nothing like any of this! "Rockit" from "Future Shock," a decade after this, is the first "jazz hip-hop song," an anthem for breakdancers, and won 5 awards at the inaugural MTV Music Video Awards. That song I know! Both in it's original and in many samples I'm sure. It's filled with synth, scratches, samples, and is nothing like "Head Hunters." "Head Hunters" was mostly smooth and cool jazz funk that faded into the background until "Sly" came in with it's frantic, all-over-the-place self. Took me too out of it. But "Rockit" would get 4 stars. It's not on the 1001 though. Too bad.

"A weema weh" in "Mbube!?" Or almost? Was it? If it wasn't, is that, let's just say culturally insensitive of me to think it was? I wasn't listening super closely, because I was just enjoying Makeba's lovely voice, not being able to understand most of the lyrics. "House of the Rising Sun" cover was very cool. But again, a lot of it became background as most of it was not in English. No fault of the music, but rather a fault in my listening. Great voice, deserved better.

I don't know what's more interesting - the cultural history of the Ga-Dangbe ethnic group of Ghana, from which Quaye's father is from; or the fact that Quaye once headbutted a terminally ill friend in an argument over Game of Thrones. I'll tell you what is not most interesting. This album. I mean, I think he probably thought he was making interesting music, but I didn't find it interesting.

Just ok. Nothing special. "Song 2" holds up well, though it has been overplayed and overused over the years. But nothing else really stood out. Several songs were standard, perhaps even boring Britpop. What was most interesting about the album was how many hints of the Gorillaz's sound that could be found here. That got me thinking about Gorillaz, and how Damon Albarn's music evolved from early Blur, to this album, to the Gorillaz. So then I looked to see what Gorillaz album or albums were on the 1001 list. There are no Gorillaz albums on the list!!! What!? Their debut used to be on the list, but was removed in more recent editions. Gorillaz were refreshing and interesting and even groundbreaking. Every other British album ever made is on the list, so why not Gorillaz? I can't decide whether to dock this album a star (from a baseline of 3) due to my anger at the list, or to give at extra star because that first Gorillaz album is a 4 or 5 start album and I have nowhere to rate it.

There is a lot to like about Public Enemy. But unfortunately there is too much not to like to ignore. Amidst some great social commentary and lyrics, "Fear of a Black Planet" gets bogged down with frantic changes and hyperactive and random insertions of sound. Chuck D's deep voice delivers some great lines. Flava Flav, on the other hand, is more often annoying than interesting. (Though Flava Flav does have his moments. Those moments are not from his post-Public Enemy reality show roles, where he seems to be playing an exaggerated character of his reputation. Or maybe that's just really him. There were a few times on this album when I thought he lyrical style and voice were interesting. But what stood out was yelling randomly in places where it didn't enrich the song.) A lot to like, but there were just too many times when an out-of-place sample or sound effect ruined an otherwise good thing.

The Wailin Jennys are terrific. Amazing harmonies driving some good bluegrass music. And all-star pun makers. (None of them are named Jenny.) In the spirit of the Wailin Jennys, here are some other groan-tastic country music puns and jokes: When I play country music for my chickens they start to sway and circle the coup to the music... It's poultry in motion! Technically, national anthems are just country music. Which Country Music Singer's name do you say when you're moving furniture past someone? Dolly Pardon. I asked what my sister was listening to, she says "LeAnn Rimes" and I says "with what?" If Keith Urban loves country music so much ... Why doesn't he change his name to Keith Rural?

“At Folsom Prison” starts off slow, but eventually hits its stride and takes a whole prison along on the ride. Can’t really remember how it compares to Cash’s other live prison album, but I know they both make for powerful statements.

I rolled my eyes and groaned when I saw Bon Jovi pop up. I lumped it in with Ratt and Poison and any other number of 80s hair bands that you would love to forget but their enduring cultural legacy will not allow it. But maybe I should give Ratt and Poison another chance? Because I enjoyed Bon Jovi's "Slippery When Wet" more than I expected to. It was definitely carried by the strength of the hit singles. I still can't tell though if I really enjoy them, or if they are just so ingrained into the collective consciousness of my generation that they seem like they feel just right. Trying to dig deeper into these feelings, I noticed Richie Sambora's guitar playing more than I had in previous listens. It got me thinking about the evolution of rock styles that led to bands like Bon Jovi. Interestingly, I feel like rock got progressively heavier through the 60s and 70s until it gave birth to heavy metal and thrash metal. Then the 80s took that heavy sound and dialed it back for pop radio and consumerism, and thus came hair bands. Some of the edge remains, and it is most noticeable in the sometimes impressive shredding of Sambora. Past the singles, the album is a bit more uneven. Still, there was enough to like to surprise me. Not enough to go back digging for Ratt and Poison though.

I'm gonna try to recreate my train of thought while listening to this yesterday, because it was all over the place... -This is kinda boring -This seems like a very, very long time. It says 4:02, but it's clearly been 20 minutes of repeating that line. -It's trending more towards blues and bluegrass? That's kind of unexpected. -I don't remember "Maggie May" starting like that? Have I never heard the whole song before? -This came out in 1971!? Never would have guessed that. Rod's been around a long time. The folk elements make more sense in that context. Would have guessed early 80s if you asked me about the two singles on this record. -A lot of bluegrass/folk vibes, but in a boring way... how is he making bluegrass that boring? -These last two songs do not fit on this album. Much more electric guitar and piano. Overall uninspiring. A lot of classic songs have a nostalgia factor that makes me like them more now than I would if I heard them today for the first time. But I actually liked "Maggie May" less than the version stuck in my deep memory circuits.

This album cover, which I couldn't leave on my screen at work while listening to this, caused quite the reaction from prude Americans in 1974. We weren't alone - Spain and the Netherlands censored the cover too. America is a country of violence, while doing all we can to shield innocent eyes from nipples and other things that are far more shocking than murders on the evening news. We gotta keep the kids from thinking about sex. That's why we have the lowest teen pregnancy rate in the developed world. What's that you say? That's not true? So it would've been ok to let people see these models' nipples without going on some kind of sexual assault bender? Oh... we have unusually high rates of assault anyway. Ah, f*$% it. I should listen to this album again so I can effectively review the songs I listened to yesterday, but I don't want to.

Boo! Not, like "Boo! It's almost Halloween!" This is not an attempt to spook or scare. It is an indictment of The Only Ones. Peter Perrett's voice might be my least favorite so far, encapsulating everything that I find grating and annoying about a certain type of British singer. This thing was all over the place, and rarely in any kind of good way. Boo.

What is indie rock? Someone not signed to a major label? (I'm not signed to a major label, Greg. Am I indie rock?) Today the term indie rock seems to have no meaning. It isn't exclusively used for independent label bands, and it doesn't refer to a specific musical style. I could tell you I like indie rock, but really that doesn't tell you much, and while I like many bands that would be classified as indie rock, I also dislike plenty of indie rock. But Pavement is (was?) indie rock. When bands maintained that anti-major label thing for their whole career. (Tangent to the tangent - I heard a story on the radio yesterday about a new book called "Sellout" by Dan Ozzi - "A raucous history of punk, emo, and hardcore’s growing pains during the commercial boom of the early 90s and mid-aughts, following eleven bands as they “sell out” and find mainstream fame, or break beneath the weight of it all." Sounds super interesting.) So, anyways, Pavement stayed indie. And in the 90s I wasn't cool enough to be indie. (All mainstream grunge, flannel, and undercuts.) I've always meant to go back and listen to more Pavement. They're a band I thought I would enjoy, but never sought out. I know "Cut Your Hair" pretty well, and still think it's great. But the rest of this album was enjoyable too. I hear Built to Spill a lot in Pavement's sound - they came in at the tail end of Pavement's run, and I got into Built to Spill as I was trying to figure out indie rock in the mid-aughts. I think I prefer Built to Spill, but I enjoyed "Crooked Rain Crooked Rain." (Built to Spill is not on the list. They're not British enough. Well, not that Pavement is at all British, but... whatever.)

Well, the 1001 educates again. Thin Lizzy is not what I thought they were. I knew the name, but would never have been able to identify one of their songs. I was expecting an 80s hair band. Instead, they somehow bridge both early metal and the 80s hair bands. Last week I posited that it seemed Bon Jovi and hair bands were a softening of heavy metal. And that still seems somewhat true, but the work of Thin Lizzy and other 70s hard rock and early metal are an important piece of the puzzle too. There is some pretty terrific guitar playing on the album. "Emerald" shreds, and at one point seemed to have guitar, bass, and drum solos all coexisting. Not sure why they are represented on the list by a live album though. If none of their studio albums are good enough, should they make the list for a concert? It's not even one concert - it's two stitched together! And a lot of it's not even live! They re-recorded huge chunks in the studio (75% according to their producer). This is not the first live album we've been dealt that did that. I'm not a fan of that whole concept. And then there was the shift from "Massacre" to "Still in Love With You" - who planned this set list? Were those even back-to-back at a single show? "Still in Love With You" felt like three different songs mashed together though, and the guitar solo in the middle part wouldn't have been too out of place after "Massacre," which was the most metal song in the set. These guys are from Ireland. Not that you can tell most of the time. And certainly not by "Cowboy Song." And their background is interesting, with the lead singer formerly from Skid Row (another band I had pegged in the wrong era/genre), and both Protestant and Catholic members. Favorite part of the research on this though was the discovery of the original version of "Whiskey in the Jar," of which I only knew the Metallica cover. I had no idea it was taken from a traditional Irish ballad! "Jailbreak," "Emerald," and "Massacre" are the most pleasant surprises. Overall uneven, but I enjoyed it more than I was expecting to.

A lot of this feels improvised, but apparently it is actually very deliberately arranged. This big observation probably belies my general ignorance about jazz music. As with other jazz we've encountered on the list so far, I enjoyed it but don't feel equipped to properly evaluate it. (This is somewhat true of a lot of non-rock related genres. And there is a relatively small amount of jazz on the list to compare and get acquainted with. Also none of it is recent jazz, which I find interesting. And then that got me thinking about the complete absence of classical music on the list, and I wondered what Mrs. hell-yeah thought about that.)

12 songs in 27 minutes. This date with the Everly Brothers gets straight to the point and doesn't mess around with any foreplay. "Girls were made to love" within the first 30 seconds. 50s and early 60s objectification of women may have been a different flavor, but it's still there. Did they date one woman simultaneously? Or is this a double date? Either way, I don't think this date went very well. Things get pretty sad a few songs in. Gosh, Everly Brothers, who hurt you? They both sound equally sad. Either both ladies from the double date double ditched, or Phil or Don are dragging their brother down into a pity hole with them. I got excited by the pace of "Lucille" at the start, hoping they found a new lady to love. But nope, they're begging her to return. These guys are getting a little desperate. Should we be concerned? (Retroactively?) Ugh, then Donna ditches you for Johnny!? You can't catch a break! Although, the common element here seems to be the Everlys. Maybe they're the problem in these relationships. Don eventually found fleeting happiness, married twice in the 60s and 70s, but single from 1970-1997. Phil was also married three times, and single for most of the 80s and 90s. It must've been hard being a dreamy-voiced country rock superstar.

Ever had acid reflux hit you just before digging in to a highly anticipated meal? A little taste of vomit hitting already primed taste buds? Quick, gimme something to wash that down. "Flowers and Beads" was that acid reflux. I was kind of looking forward to "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida," but nothing before it excited me and "Flowers and Beads" actively turned me off. Iron Butterfly replaced their most of the band for this album (their second). One new guy, Erik Brann, was a 17-year-old guitar prodigy. (A 17-year-old who couldn't even decide how to spell his stage name.) And for a band that had a big role in inspiring heavy metal music, the guitars are completely unspectacular and take a back seat to organs too much of the time. Brann left the band soon after this, disappointed they didn't want to move their sound in a heavier direction. Can't say that I blame him. And then, if you can slog through those first five tracks, "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" kicks in with a great crunchy guitar intro before singer Doug Ingle's voice comes in and messes things up. It didn't use to bother me as much on this song, but that was before I had to sit through five far inferior songs. At least this listen gave me an excuse to finally look up what this song means. Only to be left disappointed again. It was supposed to be "in the Garden of Eden," but organist-vocalist Ingle wrote and sang it for the band after drinking a gallon wine, and that's what they thought they heard. Hard to say what I cared for less - Ingle's put-on deep bellowing, or our dog's incessant whining for who-knows-what through the whole album. Maybe she just doesn't like Iron Butterfly either.

Acronyms are intended for abbreviating long phrases or names - they can be super-useful when used for their proper purpose. The acronym for Feeling Called Love would be F.C.L. But P.U.L.P. seems to misunderstand how acronyms work. Acronyms sung as part of a song also usually doesn't go well. Or spelling things out in general. "R-E-S-P-E-C-T" might be the exception, but "Y.M.C.A." and B-A-N-A-N-A-S certainly wore out their welcome. I wonder how long of a playlist we could get out of songs that spell out words or acronyms...? So Pulp misunderstands acronyms, but I think I must misunderstand Pulp. Because apparently "Different Class" is acclaimed and beloved, and people think Jarvis Cocker (surely a country singer and not a Brit-pop dandy) is an amazing lyricist. But my understanding is that the album is nearly unlistenable, and the lyrics are either lame or offensive. I don't need to hear multiple songs of Cocker bragging about his affairs with married women. I prefer low pulp. Or no pulp. The orange juice doesn't lose anything without the pulp, and neither would music.

Thom Yorke said "anyone can play guitar." And that's totally true. If you have a guitar, I guess. But not just anyone can play the guitar like Jimi Hendrix. Most songs are just a bit too short - I wanted them to keep going! And then "If 6 Was 9" showed why keeping things short was a good thing. Leave them wanting more, don't wear out your welcome. And certainly not with a weird flute solo. Was that a flute? It was weird. The song with Noel Redding vocals was also weird, and yanked me right out of the album's flow. Aside from those two minor issues, "Axis: Bold as Love" is a great glimpse at the brilliance of Hendrix. And if it was just the guitar work, that would be enough. But Jimi proves his voice works so well in his style, and that he can blend seamlessly with the Experience to create a full sound that isn't overwhelmed by one of the greatest guitarists of all time.

The 1001 albums generator has embraced the updated edition, and after a long streak of albums that never got more recent than the early 90s, here comes "Heaux Tales" from 2021. I think the process of updating a list like this is tricky. It's hard to properly judge the place in music history for an album less than a year old. But to be one of only 2 albums added from this year, this must be a revolutionary, stand out album, right? Well, yes and no. But mostly no. "Heaux Tales" bounces back and forth from fine but not special R&B to short vignettes of women presenting their "tale." The tales offer glimpses of modern sexuality, from the too often overlooked perspective of ordinary women. They are real and raw, but in their rawness and prevalence they dominate the album. They make up 5 of the 14 tracks, and made more of an impression than most of the songs did. One exception from the songs was "Put it Down," which clearly stood out from the rest. While most of the tracks are fairly average R&B, "Put it Down" features a trap beat and a mix of rapping and singing. I generally find trap beats to be super similar and very repetitive, but it was actually put to good use here, and the blending with R&B provided something fresh.

"Raw Power" is about as apt a name for an album as you can get here with The Stooges. I'm giving each of The Stooges albums 4 stars, each one just barely missing the mark for me in one way or another. But the band is one of my favorite discoveries in the 1001. I knew who Iggy Pop was, and knew the name The Stooges, but couldn't identify any of their songs 5 years ago (well, maybe "I Wanna Be Your Dog"). I can now fully appreciate their trailblazing sound and vast influence, and for that we'll tack an extra star on "Raw Power."

Since listening, I've discovered that there are two versions of this album, with different track orders and even some added songs. That's annoying. Did they at least wait a while? Kanye West released "Donda" earlier this fall, clocking in at almost 2 hours long, then released a "deluxe" edition with five additional songs and topping the 2 hour mark. Calm down, Kanye, you've gotta space this out and spend years milking this with special and deluxe and international and live and remastered and anniversary and whatever else editions. Oh, and the "Kanye's Version" re-recording. Anyway, I only listened to one version of "90." Maybe the worse one? Definitely some decent songs, but also some that made me glad the genre developed past these guys."

"Blue Rondo A La Turk" and "Take Five" are absolute classics, and very special. Even as a jazz neophyte I know that. Or at least I think I know that. There are few jazz songs that I instantly recognize. These are two of them. They feel exciting and special. The rest of the album doesn't quite meet that bar though. They'd be good in a bar - a fancy one with martinis and a dress code and such. Or at a dinner party where you are trying to impress friends with more money than you. Or, keeping things fancy, at a nice restaurant. But beyond the two groundbreaking, trendsetting, genre-defining hits, "Time Out" mostly faded into the background and failed to hold my attention. Again, I am sure my lack of music knowledge (I can't explain why any of Brubeck's work is special or acclaimed) has me missing a lot here.

The term oxymoron was first used in the 1657 apparently. Over 300 years later, John Martyn attempted to kill it softly with the bland and boring title track to "Solid Air." As the album opened, and "Solid Air" dragged on for over 5 minutes, I worried I wouldn't be able to make it through this album. My intense apathy towards the song nearly made me let out a silent scream, and it made me wish I'd started the album in a random order. But the only choice was to press on, hoping for a minor miracle to end the sweet misery (in my unbiased opinion). Luckily, "Over the Hill" quickly picked up the pace. And there was plenty more interesting to come after that. If I had skipped "Solid Air" and took a big toke when the second track started, I think it would have really hit me mid-way through the controlled chaos that is "I'd Rather Be the Devil." Folk, psychedelic rock, jazz, and blues, and more all come together with uneven results, making for what is perhaps undeniably an interesting listen. I went from * after the first track, then see-sawed back-and-forth repeatedly, briefly considering a ****. In the end, my only choice was to split the difference and stick with ***.

Cargo cults may seem strange to us modern first-worlders, but in understanding their culture we can understand much of our obsession with advancement and progression. A cargo cult is "an indigenist millenarian belief system in which adherents perform rituals which they believe will cause a more technologically advanced society to deliver goods." Such groups have been found in Pacific island nations that had fleeting contact with Allied soldiers and air drops of supplies during WWII. After the war ended, the cults arose to try to mimic the behavior and culture they encountered and lure back these peoples and their advanced technology. The indigenous people encountered strange cargo from a civilization they didn't understand, and then longed to replicate it or bring it back. Maybe William Orbit brought us strange cargo of his own, at the leading edge of the electronic music revolution in the 80s and 90s. He never left, but we've been trying to copy and mimic his seemingly futuristic and advanced aural aesthetic ever since. Unlike the cargo cults, who's benefactors and inspirations seemingly disappeared for a time, Orbit continued to be an active part of the cultural exchange, evolving with those he influenced. And at some point during that journey, he air dropped a third load of "Strange Cargo." However, I found myself not mythologizing, venerating, or deifying Orbit, but rather being thankful that his influence fueled a continuous evolution through artists whose work I find better.

As I listened to the Kinks, I wondered which came first, the Beatle or the Kink? Well, bugs and sexual fetishes have probably always existed, maybe since before life crawled out of the ocean. But as for British Invasion bands, which came first and which followed? Apparently the Beatles came first, and their quick success may have caused them to look down on or be dismissive of the Kinks, which may have left a chip on Ray Davies' shoulder. But four years after the Kinks first opened for the Beatles, "The Village Green..." comes out and proves that the Kinks were still just a Beatles wanna-be. Poppy, hooky riffs create a few memorable songs and earworms, but there's not enough here to make a lasting impact. There's some of the same weirdness typical of late-stage Beatles too - they just don't seem to stand out or develop their own sound enough. Months ago, the list delivered the Kinks' "Arthur...," and I listened through it once and then never remembered to go back and write a review. Now memory of that album has faded somewhat, and "Village Green..." didn't do enough to make me go back for one more try. In researching the Beatles/Kinks timeline, I discovered that some consider the Kinks pioneers or influencers of punk or proto-punk. At least from "Village Green...," I'm not really seeing it. "Wicked Annabella" was the only song on the album that provided any kinds of hints of punk. Maybe on another album? But as with "Arthur...," I'm just not feeling it quite enough to go digging for more. Another research find was an article titled "Between The Beatles and The Stones, I'll Take The Kinks." Not for me, thanks.

"The Pretenders" starts with terrific punk energy on "Precious," but the next two tracks don't quite keep up the same raw gusto and the album ends up being promising yet uneven. Things seemed like they were picking back up with "The Wait," but then "Stop Your Sobbing" was far too poppy and jangly. It was their first single, and their first producer dropped them after releasing it, as he thought the band was "not going anywhere." And I've gotta admit, if that was the first impression I'm not sure I'd have stuck around. "Sobbing" is fine, but it doesn't grab the listener and offers to hints of the edge found in the band's better work. (edit: It's because it's a cover of a Kinks song! Doubly interesting because we drew the Kinks for the previous album. And covering this song led Chrissie Hynde to meet, date, and have a kid with Ray Davies!) "Private Life" shows yet another side of the Pretenders, restrained and rambling and quirky They return to pop with "Brass in Pocket," and I want to be frustrated again, but it's just such a terrific song that it's hard to be mad. I had no idea what this song was called, so I totally wasn't anticipating it popping up on this album. There was a strong finish with "Mystery Achievement," but listening to some of the Pretenders' other most popular songs, I couldn't help but be struck by what could have been. Their debut showed a lot of different influences and different possible directions for the band. If only they had embraced the side that wrote "Precious" a little more.

NPR ranked "Untitled (Black Is)" as it's #1 album of 2020, and while it's not my #1, SAULT certainly made an album of the moment that captured the zeitgeist and feels timely and cathartic. There is a lot of variety on the album, yet it still feels cohesive. It is pleading and desperate at times, and hopeful and uplifting at others.

My wife had a friend in college who was a huge Van Morrison fan, and hated that all anyone ever knew of Morrison was "Brown-Eyed Girl." Well, that would've been me. For as iconic as Morrison is in his era and genre, I'm surprised I don't know his other work. Or don't know that I know it, at least. I was going to follow this up with some kind of poorly introspective mumbo-jumbo about his songs and lyrics, but in the middle of struggling to write it I Googled Van Morrison and now I am forced to write about Janet Planet! Janet Rigsbee was Morrison's first wife, who he married to avoid deportation. At least, according to an article from ecelebrityspy.com. I'm going with ecelebrityspy, in spite of it's horrible writing, because there is no Wikipedia article about Janet. Even though Morrison re-christened her Janet Planet. Even though she went on to have a career in music after they divorced. But ecelebrityspy devotes as much time to her music career as the items in her Etsy shop. She doesn't go by Janet Planet anymore. Finally, the visual I had of Morrison in my head was him in the 60s. Turns out I also knew what he looked like later in life, but had no idea it was the same guy. Some in the public eye cultivate a look and style and then hang on to it until long after it stops working for them. At least Morrison didn't do that.

"Let's Go Crazy" is an awesome way to start an album. And "Purple Rain" (the album) mostly delivers on that promise. But it is buoyed by the hits. "Let's Go Crazy," "When Doves Cry," "I Would Die 4 U," and "Purple Rain" are terrific songs. The other half of the album is less remarkable, but they're still much better than most of "Sign 'O' The Times."

I think maybe Blur needed someone to tell them that they didn't have to record every song that they wrote. The Beatles were an incredibly prolific band, churning out hit after hit on an at-least-yearly basis in the 60s. But Blur is not the Beatles. So when they released 4 albums in 5 years from '93-'97, the result was a lot of songs, a few of which are great, a bunch of which are kind of ok, and too many of which are intolerable. It's also a sign of a band that didn't quite have their musical identity nailed down. "Modern Life is Rubbish" got off on the wrong foot with "For Tomorrow," jumping right in with exactly the type of vocals that turns me off of Blur and many other Britpop and new wave bands. But personally being distinctly non-British, maybe I just don't get it. Because England loved Blur, and also loved this song. "In this period the band had gone on a tour of the US which they greatly detested, especially as the country was the home of grunge and audiences were not receptive to their music," according to Wikipedia. "After that tour lead singer Damon Albarn started to write songs with a very British feel." But see, I hate this song. A clear one star. And the stuff that sounds grungier on the album is much preferred. "Advert" is a little better, once you get past the annoying intro. "Colin Zeal" has a great sound and arrangement, but the lyrics feel more suited to synthy early 80s new wave. "Star Shaped" is another low point. I could go on, but it would be too depressing. And the thing is, almost every song has some little bit of brilliance in it. Either a great lick from Graham Coxon, or Damon Albarn actually using his voice in an interesting way. But they don't sustain the brilliance. It's always just barely, painfully, fleeting.

It just feels loud and brash for the sake of being loud and brash. It lacks spirit or soul, or an intelligent spark, behind the chaos. The internet tells me they are post-hardcore. Though it seems that genre is pretty broad. And filled with bands I like better. (And some I don't.) Naming themselves The Icarus Line feels like it wound up being ironic. Maybe they were worried about flying too close to the sun, but in truth they never really approached that line, stalling out on their journey to rock fame and the bright lights. (https://pitchfork.com/thepitch/the-icarus-line-must-die-shows-the-dark-purgatory-of-a-cult-rock-band-that-never-gave-up/)

Tribe Called Quest is great. Hip hop hall of famers. And "Low End Theory" is a seminal work in hip hop history. But it's strengths are also it's weaknesses. It's so chill and smooth and laid back, but sort of to its detriment. Much of this album sounds the same, without much to differentiate one song from another. Until you reach the last two tracks. "What?" feels very fresh, packed with tons of references and the wittiest lyrics on the album. The album then ends with "Scenario," one of Tribe's biggest hits. It should have opened the album instead of concluding it, but either way it's inclusion hurts everything else by comparison. Nothing else had the energy that "Scenario" had. When it comes to alternative, more mindful hip-hop, Tribe Called Quest might be legendary, but the other album we've rated from this subgenre - Jurassic 5's "Power in Numbers" - is much better in my view. I'm giving this a 3.75, and rounding up because 3 stars doesn't capture the skill and artistry at play here, even if it doesn't reach its potential.

Is ZZ Top peak rock and roll? Anything more quintessentially rock and roll than ZZ Top and Billy Gibbons' whole aesthetic? And is there anything more peak of the peak than "TV Dinners?" They wrote and recorded and, I assume, repeatedly played, a bluesy rocker of a tune about the necessity of a microwaved meal. "TV dinners, I'm feelin' kinda rough TV dinners, this one's kinda tough I like the enchiladas and the teriyaki too I even like the chicken if the sauce is not too blue" Amen, Billy, amen. I've never understood the early 80s so well. Of course, they do follow it up with a rather creepy song about wanting to catcall a pretty girl in a nice car. Again, the 80s... "Gimme All Your Lovin,'" "Legs," and "Sharp Dressed Man" were probably Billy Gibbons' greatest achievements... until his recurring role as Angela's dad on "Bones," at least.

Jerry Lee Lewis was a hell of a piano player and performer, helped to transform early rock and roll, and is a total piece of crap. Some of the musicians that actually wrote these songs are probably better people and deserve more of the credit.

So many artists on the 1001 that lack a cohesive identity. Does 10cc know who they are or what their style is? I don’t after one listen. “The Worst Band in the World” was annoying, “Hotel” was weird, and “Clockwork Creep” was, well not creepy, just crappy. “Silly Love” featured a metal riff behind silly singing of the word silly, then becomes a totally different song before veering back to the metal riff. More weirdness ensued for the rest of the album. They were contemporaries of Pink Floyd and Queen, and occasionally sound like either of them, occasionally hints of the Beatles, sometimes blues-rock... it's just too all over the place. And too many moments where the sound or arrangement made me laugh out loud with a wtf. I prefer artists who have more of a definable/recognizable style. They avoid the single-star review and get bumped up slightly by being an unnecessary British band on the list without having a singer with an annoying post-punk/new wave/Britpop grating British singing affectation.

This is our third and final Prince album from the generator, generated before the first hit of several groups with more albums on the list. That's random for you, I guess. "Sign O The Times" was very uneven, then "Purple Rain" was a masterpiece, so what about "1999?" After the deservedly popular "1999" (even if it predicted joyful end-of-century partying and not existential Y2K panic), "Little Red Corvette" reached peak 80s, and then "Delirious" followed immediately after with what can only be called trough 80s. That was annoying and made me concerned we were in for another uneven album. Then I spent most of "D.S.M.R." coming up with ASMR jokes, only to be shocked by the cries for help at the end. Prince sings that the R stands for Romance, but that doesn't sound like romance to me. If there's some deeper meaning here I can't find mention of it, but at the very least it served to scramble my plans for ASMR jokes. Luckily there was some very listenable, enjoyable, but unmemorable, funk and soul in the second half of the album. (As long as you let it go in the background and don't pay too much attention to song lengths. There were two moments when I thought "it must be on to the next song now? I didn't notice the transition. Nope, nevermind, this one still has two more minutes.")

It took me 1:30 to decide that I was likely to hate this. The first track actually wound up being better than I thought it was going to be. But... wait... that does not at all mean that I liked it. Not viscerally hating is a pretty low bar to clear. Parts were pretentious, but parts were surprisingly listenable. The jamming second half of "Uncertain Smile" had me going for a couple minutes, but "The Twilight Hour" features an interesting arrangement ruined by the singing. But it "Soul Mining" concludes with the 9-minute "Giant," finally annoying me enough to succeed in their assumed mission of ripping my soul from my body, leaving me dispirited and defeated. (That's what happens when you mine souls, right?)

In 1993, it was a different world. We didn't have cell phones or the internet (well, most of us). We didn't have Google, and we didn't have Genius for looking up song lyrics and meanings. We had the liner notes, pulled out of the jewel case and poured over for hours, trying to make some sense of the mystery. I can't decide if we were better off trying to decipher Kurt Cobain's obtuse lyrics, or better off now having so much information at our fingertips. Every magazine story about Nirvana, each video interview with Cobain, even Courtney Love's tweets to Lana Del Rey in 2012 about her vagina's role in Cobain's songwriting. And here we are judging this content 30 years later, 30 years filled with more life experiences and cultural changes that Cobain never experienced. How would he reflect on this music decades later? How would Nirvana's music have evolved? We'll never know, but we do have this amazing time capsule of an amazing band at their creative peak, raw and angry and vulnerable and passionate, screaming until their voices and instruments broke. It's pretty awesome.

Aaaah! I'm so conflicted! It sounds so fresh and so clean, but it leaves you feeling dirty! At least on a few tracks. If you took out "Gasoline Dreams," "Snappin' & Trappin,'" and "Gangsta Sh*t," this would be a top-tier album. With them, "Stankonia" is going to fall a star short. "Stankonia" includes all the OutKast hallmarks - incredible lyricism, flows, and funk aplenty. They were so unique and groundbreaking, but I wish that their style had influenced more of the musical style of Southern rap music. The stuff that I have heard coming out of Atlanta and the South in the last decade have been much less inspired. "Stankonia" wasn't my favorite OutKast album, though. It is apparently their most acclaimed, but "ATLiens" and especially "Aquemini" were better for me. But neither of those made the list! I went back to start "Aquemini," but will have to spend more time digging back into the OutKast catalogue. "Speakerboxx/Love Below" is on the list, but I don't remember that one beyond the overhyped singles. It's too bad OutKast is best known for "B.O.B." and "Hey Yaaaaaa(how many a's?)," because those are not their best (for me).

According to Wikipedia, this album was a "complete departure" from their earlier work, which was more punk and alternative whereas "Post Orgasmic Chill" had "a new harder sound with elements of hard rock and alternative metal." Someone forgot to tell half of this album about this radical shift. The harder stuff is interesting. The more alternative stuff however doesn't stand out from their contemporaries. Songs that melded the two sounds showed the promise of the new direction, but overall there are too many forgettable tracks. Their lead singer, Skin (because Deborah doesn't sound cool enough for a rock singer?), has definite vocal talent, but is kind of all over the place in her approach. Also interesting was the drum-and-bass intro on the first track and outro on "Good Things Don't Always Come to You." Creating more of a mash-up of alternative metal and drum-and-bass would have been really interesting, but unfortunately they did not explore it beyond these very tacked-on segments. Naming your band after the trickster spider-god Anasi is pretty cool, but adding on skunk to ""make the name nastier" draws a pretty big eye roll and almost loses them a star. And as long as we are looking at their questionable naming conventions, a lot of this album seems distinctly unsuited for "Post Orgasmic" chilling.

Not to be confused with 2003 album "The Killing Joke," also by The Killing Joke. (Although Killing Joke fan Dave Grohl played drums on that album, interestingly enough.) Also not to be confused with the 1988 graphic novel "Batman: the Killing Joke," by Alan Moore and Brian Bolland, widely regarded as one of the best Joker stories ever told. Also not to be confused with American band The Killing Joke, which seems to have released three singles in 2021. Rather, this The Killing Joke are led by frontman Professor Severus Snape. Ok, not really. Jaz Coleman looked nothing like Snape when this album came out. But he really bears a striking resemblance now. If he actually believed himself to be a wizard, that wouldn't even be so surprising. Consider this from the Seattle Weekly: "The long-standing “mystic,” who lives on a small New Zealand island these days (perhaps to avoid having to wear a tinfoil hat every day), believes, among other things, that China has built microwave towers to control the population with microchips, which are secretly implanted via vaccines, and this will eventually happen elsewhere around the world; that people are being mind-controlled by chemtrails in the sky and fluoride in the water; that nutrients are being purposefully removed from foods to kill us and keep the world population down; that swine flu is a bioweapon; and that due to changes in the earth’s magnetic field, time is actually speeding up (actually, this one’s sort of believable—is it already the holidays again?!)." But as for the actual music? The opener "Requiem" was kind of cool, but "Wardance" almost lost me. By the time it got to "The Wait," I was back on board, and I really enjoyed "Complications."

I really like the guitar on "Natural Mystic." The next few tracks felt didn't deliver anything particularly special, and it turns out "Exodus" is a bit repetitive. But "Jamming," "Three Little Birds," and "One Love" do plenty to carry this album. To follow up on hellyeah, not only is it crazy that Marley died of melanoma, but that the kind of melanoma he got has an average age of onset between 60 and 70 years, and an 67% 10-year survival rate. Too many musical tragedies where we can only wonder how the artist would have evolved over a longer career. What would the 80s and 90s have been like if Marley, Morrison, Hendrix, Joplin, Lennon, and others had been alive? What would the 00s have been like if Cobain, Biggie, 2Pac, and so many others had still be around? For an even further tangent, because I started thinking more about the alternate world where Cobain lived to grow old... if Kurt stuck around, would there never have been the Foo Fighters. If Andrew Wood lived, would Pearl Jam have never existed?

This album is unbelievably brilliant. It's mature and soulful and witty and snarky and just really, really impressive. And... yeah, what's that, Kate? She was 19 when she made this!? I just don't know what to even compare that to. I'm more used to 18-19 year olds singing someone else's lyrics in the poppiest most button-pushing way possible. How was Britney Spears' debut just 2 1/2 years after this? The only thing I can think of that comes anywhere close to what Fiona Apple pulled off would be maybe Lorde, who was a couple years younger when "Pure Heroine" came out, but while it was impressive and refreshing it is nowhere near the level of "Tidal." If you're not blown away by Fiona Apple, you might not like music.

In a recurring theme with bands from the 60s and 70s, what I found out about Queen while looking into this album is how incredibly prolific they were. And I realized that I really have only heard their hits. "Killer Queen" is the only song on this album that I was familiar with, but most of the album is strong. (Aside from that weird Broadway number.) But "Sheer Heart Attack" seems no different from other Queen albums throughout the 70s. Between one and three hits on each album, with a new album almost every year. So why is it that modern rock bands don't put out albums as frequently? Lazy Gen Xers and Millenials? Record label interference? A quest for perfection leaving all those non-hit singles on the studio floor? Whatever the reason, it must have been cool in the 60s and 70s to constantly get new music from your favorite band. Fans of "Killer Queen" wouldn't have to wait long for "Bohemian Rhapsody."

This 1988 Australian album sounds like too many mid-80s British albums. “Streets of Your Town” was the biggest hit and definitely stands out on the album, leading the way to a second half that was better than the first. In general, "16 Lovers Lane" needs more of Amanda Brown's vocals and violin.

Who is that on the cover of this album!? That's Iggy Pop?? It's not just the hair... I'm not sure I've ever seen a picture of Iggy that wasn't bare-chested. Once I got over that shock, I wanted to know where this fit into Iggy's career. We were previously randomly generated the Stooges "Raw Power," so where does this solo album fit in? And on that journey I discovered a deep musical connection I had no idea of - that of Iggy Pop and David Bowie. After Bowie produced "Raw Power," their lives and careers became intertwined, making music together, moving to Europe together, and trying to get clean together. I haven't listened to a whole lot of Bowie (no randomly generated albums yet, so mostly just familiar with the hits), so I'm not well-equipped to recognize his influence on "The Idiot." But apparently it was vast, with the album often referred to as more of a Bowie album than an Iggy album. But whoever it sounds like, I’m not a fan.

I rarely seek out or choose R&B, though I don't really know why. R&B can be so smooth, so filled with groove, and Frank Ocean is certainly no exception. I don't listen to enough R&B to understand what makes Frank Ocean stand out and deserve the accolades he has earned over the last decade. And this is my first exposure to his music, despite having been aware of his impact. But regardless, I really enjoyed this, and maybe should seek out Frank Ocean and other similar R&B more often.

I came to the 1001 Generator on this Christmas Eve seeking an escape from Christmas music. And what do I find? Christmas music!? This is not a randomly generated album! Sure, there are some classics here. And sure, there is the undoubtedly influential “Wall of Sound,” though I couldn’t tell you what it actually sounds like. But the spirit of the random generator has been violated! Bah humbug!

I'm not sure why I can explain why I like System of a Down. Or why I still like them? I had this album back in '98. But I have only listened to SoaD in scattered bits in the last decade. Would I still feel the same way at 41 as I did at 18? Turns out the answer is yes. And there are definitely things I listened to in the late 90s that I no longer feel the same affinity for. But surprisingly SoaD is not one of them. I still really like the wild and weird variety with which Serj Tankian uses his voice. Sometimes it's lovely, sometimes it's guttural and gritty and ugly. And he shifts so effortlessly between those extremes. I think I'm gonna be the outlier in the group here, hellyeah. No spread of every score 1-5 here, I may be the only one with a positive review. But I can't quite give it a 5. A few more on the level of "Spiders" might've gotten it there. I liked "Toxicity" even more than this one back in the day. I'll have to revisit that and see if it can earn a 5.

I figured the opener, "Krautrock," would help me figure out what krautrock (the genre) is. So I hit play. And I waited. And waited... and waited... through too many minutes of weird feedback to be bothered to remember anymore. And I still don't know what krautrock is.

Too much of "Surrealistic Pillow" doesn't stand out. Or rather, stands in the vast shadow of "White Rabbit" and "Someone to Love." The surrealism is a bit lacking beyond those two hits as well. The pillow is not lacking. They are pleasant enough songs to lay your head down to. "White Rabbit" is psychedelic rock. Too much of this sounds like vaguely psychedelic folk. There was some good blues influence in the tracks after "White Rabbit," but ultimately it wasn't enough to fully salvage the first half of the album. There's really just not enough Grace Slick lead vocals. When she pops in on "Go to Her," it was very much an "Oh! Where's she been?" moment. I continuously tuned out on this album only to be drawn back in by Slick's voice. I can't understate how much I wish there was more of "White Rabbit's" vibe on this album. Or the rest of Jefferson Airplane's work. I didn't realize that the two hits on this album were the band's only smash successes.

Sometimes it's hard to sum up a song with just a word or two, so song titles can be hard to nail down. (And sometimes the song title doesn't even actually hint at the song's actual content to anyone except the writer.) So some artists use whole sentences for song titles (see Sufjan Stevens). Other artists are forced to coin a new compound word to express the vastly complicated themes and feelings the song evokes, like a German komposita. (See Outkast's "Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik" or Funkadelic's "promentalshitbackwashpsychosis Enema Squad.") It is that spirit that brings us Isaac Hayes' "Hyperbolicsyllablecsesquedalymistic," which at 9:34 of course it's a complicated song that defies easy nomenclature. And yet, somehow the 12 minute "Walk on By" gets a simple name? I knew Isaac Hayes was a soul icon, but didn't know his music. As I should have expected, it's soulful and groovy and easy to listen to if you don't get antsy about it needing more structure. I expected it to be filled with short implorations of a sexual nature. Instead it's a few extended jams with a bit of romance and sex. I would say that it needed more chocolate salty balls or fudge, but Hayes' might not want his entire musical career viewed through a Chef-lens. (Though it has just dawned on me that "Hot Buttered Soul" (or rolls) is totally something Chef would croon.)

The day before we were dealt this album, I read a review of their new album in Rolling Stone. They gave it ****, for their first album in 40 years, writing that they totally recaptured their 70s glory. But I'm thinking their 70s glory is a bit overstated. Their hits were huge, don't get me wrong. I mean, their music was turned into a movie musical. You don't get that treatment without some classic songs. But beyond the "Mamma Mia" songs there seems to be a big drop-off in quality, with the rest just mediocre. On "The Visitors," the title track is ok. Maybe not fantasmagoric, but ok. But it's downhill from there. "I Let the Music Speak" was particularly painful. I couldn't let that music speak.

I was just gonna say that this was a delightfully funky and whimsical surprise. And then I went and looked up Thundercat anyway. He's building up quite the list of accolades and guest appearances in the last decade (I seem to recall seeing this and other albums reviewed or on year-end lists), but it was what he did in the prior decade that was more surprising. From 2002-2011, Thundercat was the bassist for the hardcore punk band Suicidal Tendencies. Yep. Stephen "Thundercat" Bruner is clearly an interesting dude with varied interests and influences. On "Drunk," that did shine through. But mostly, "Drunk" was just fun. I might not seek out funk, but when it's done this well I'm happy to listen and bop along.

Apparently it's a pretty funky week. But in the surprise of the week, Thundercat's funk blows Little Stevie out of the water. "Higher Ground" is amazing, and "Living For the City" and "Golden Lady" (Betty White?) are pretty good too, and I was pleasantly surprised that "Too High" was actually about getting high. But the rest was just way too boring.

Six stars. A band evolving. Experimenting. Probing. Pushing the envelope. But still accessible. Emotional. Raw. Powerful. Nonsense, and also thought-provoking depth. At least when you can understand Thom Yorke. A voice that shouldn't work, but just does. And Jonny Greenwood's guitar work is amazing and stands out for not just it's skill but also how well it fits in with the experimentation around it.

They say "There's A Riot Goin' On," but I'm not sure where it is? This came out in 1971, after several very tumultuous years. So I figured "Riot" would be filled with anger, turmoil, intensity, at least passion? But that was missing throughout. "Brave & Strong" gave me a little bit of a feeling of the times, but most of the rest felt dull and low-energy, with much of it feeling like unfinished experiments in songwriting. This time I waited until I was mostly finished listening to look up the history of the album. And now it makes more sense. I knew Sly and the Family Stone were well-regarded and influential. But it's not for this album, which had too little family and too much Sly and too many drugs involved in the production.

Las Vegas is a city in Nevada, USA, at 36.1699° N, 115.1398° W. It has an average July high temperature of 104°F. The city also is known as a destination for those seeking legalized gambling, prostitution, and marijuana, and has been nicknamed "Sin City." So apparently these Scottish lasses got understandably confused. Heaven, being a common religious cosmological or transcendent supernatural place where beings such as gods, angels, souls, saints, or venerated ancestors are said to originate, be enthroned, or reside, is often paired with its antithesis, hell. As in "heaven or hell." I'm not sure if the Cocteau Twins had been to Las Vegas when they wrote this album. The city, and I guess much of Nevada, can appear a bit hellish, but I don't believe the "Entertainment Capital of the World" the actual underworld. But anyway, the Cocteau Twins' "Treasure" was the 17th album we received. Now 153 albums later, I get to wonder why they have two albums on the list. Though actually, I don't totally hate this one. Except I do hate the way it sounds. Which is weird. I think a lot of the song structures have potential. But I don't like their singing, and don't like some of the instrumentation within the arrangements (this probably makes no actual music sense). I think what would be really interesting is to have another band cover these songs. A better band.

I realized before listening that it was a British band I had vaguely heard of from the late 70s/early 80s, and it did not fill me with hope based on my previous experience with the 1001. But I was pleasantly surprised by Gang of Four. I mean, it's not exactly pleasant music. It is challenging and different, but that was good - it stood out. I should clarify that it was different from their contemporaries, but I do hear a lot of reflections of Gang of Four in 00s indie bands (Bloc Party came to mind a few times). A lot of times I don't understand the classifications that make for some rock sub-genres. Post-punk is one of them. But Gang of Four definitely felt post-punk. There were elements of 70s punk, but mixed with something new. I like what Gang of Four brought to the genre, and like how they seem to have influenced future bands. But... "Entertainment" was still a bit uneven for me. There was some four-star content, but it wasn't consistent enough. Its somewhere between 3.75-3.9, but can quite break through.

Coldplay is a more boring Radiohead. Travis is a more boring Coldplay.

For how much time I spent around hippies living in Boone, NC for 5 years, I really don't know the Dead. This album was totally unrecognizable. None of the songs were familiar. The sound, on the other hand, was familiar. It sounded like pretty typical southern rock. There was some other Cali band we listened to that also did the southern rock sound... ah, it was CCR! Anyway, the CCR album stood out in that genre more than "American Beauty" did. I didn't get any sense of what made the Grateful Dead special from this album. I then checked out some of the Dead's most popular songs, and I recognized most of them (though not the ones from this album). But I didn't really recognize them as Grateful Dead songs usually. It was more of an "I know this one... this is the Grateful Dead!?" kind of thing. So I'm surprised how little I really knew the Grateful Dead. And also surprised how little I cared for this album, though the other popular songs were a bit better.

I have clear memories of "Insane in the Brain." However, all other recollection is as hazy as a Cypress Hill concert. Now getting reacquainted with them, I have discovered that it wasn't all wacky songs about getting high. It was songs about getting high, or songs about killing people. Sometimes in the same song. What kind of weed were they smoking!? These dudes really needed to chill out on the couch, eat some snacks, and laugh at something dumb on television. Or anything else that would keep them off the streets. Cause damn they sound violent. Cypress Hill is perhaps an important link in the chain that gets us from early hip hop, to early 90s gangsta rap, to rap rock, rage rock, and rage rap. Or whatever all that ultra-angry crap in the late 90s was. I bet Limp Bizkit's Fred Durst really liked Cypress Hill, only he wasn't anywhere near as hard in real life as B Real. I think Cypress Hill also likely influenced Insane Clown Posse. This album stood in stark contrast to 2Pac, which we listened to last week. 2Pac's lyrics absolutely delve a lot into gangbanging and the violence that comes with it. But the difference is that 2Pac had a depression resignation about the life, while Cypress Hill is glorifying it. That was a big turn off for me.

For once the 1001's overamplification of British music paid off. I didn't know anything about Paul Weller, or the Jam. And knew very little about the Mod revival of the 70s and 80s. I still don't know what the Jam's music was like, but I can at least say that what the "Modfather" (yes, really) evolved into as a solo artist is pleasant enough. Nothing on "Wild Wood" is groundbreaking, but Weller has a good voice (much more so than many of his contemporaries from other British rock subgenres in that era), and the blues and soul elements are nice. But overall, it's just good and nice - I wouldn't seek it out, but also wouldn't change the station.

"Toys in the Attic" is very much carried by "Walk This Way" and "Sweet Emotion." I am so used to the Run DMC version that the original "Walk This Way" sounds a little weird, but "Sweet Emotion" is a six-star absolute classic. However, these two hits are not enough to carry the album to a more re-listenable level. "Big Ten Inch Record" is funny, in a "should I be bothered by this" kind of way, but the one pleasant standout was "Round and Round," with a grunge metal edge that could have been a Soundgarden inspiration... it was bizarre to follow that up with the Elton John-ish lead-in of "You See Me Crying." (Well... it turns out "Big Ten Inch Record" is a cover of a Bull Moose Jackson song from 1952. Jackson's other songs include "I Want a Bowlegged Woman." I am now half-way between appreciating it more for its full context and appreciating it less for another case of white rockers appropriating a black musicians song.)

Fantastic all the way through. An absolute classic. Though the randomly inserted live cover of "Bye Bye Love" was weird and out-of-place. The title track gets much attention, but it actually might be my least favorite on the album. For me, "The Boxer" and "Only Living Boy in New York" are far more interesting.

What's the superior jazz arrangement? The trio, or the "classic quartet?" Since I don't know diddly about jazz music, other than it generally sounds chill, maybe the answer lies in an exploration of other trios and quartets. Groups of three can be great. The triple play-turning trio of Tinkers to Evers to Chance. The Musketeers were great as a three-piece, but weren't too bad as a quartet either. I've heard some enjoy a ménage à trois, but can't verify. Trios professional wrestling. The Three Amigos. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Three's Company (oops, already covered that one). Luke, Han, and Leia (sorry Chewie). The Three Stooges. The Powderpuff Girls. And the list goes on. Wow, that's a lot of high quality trios. On the other hand you've got the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the Beatles, the Fantastic Four/Incredibles, the Ghostbusters, the South Park boys, the Four Horsemen (either of the apocalypse or of professional wrestling), the Golden Girls. This experiment has proven inconclusive. As has my attempt to review this jazz album.

I don't know blues much more than I know jazz. But this album stood out much more than the jazz album we got a few days earlier. I still don't really know how Muddy Waters compares to other blues artists. But I can say that I really enjoyed this album, and would gladly listen to it again.

I was thinking about Tracy Chapman and Luke Combs' performance of "Fast Car" at the Grammys and went to look back on my review of the original. To no great surprise, I never wrote it. But it gave me a chance to revisit Chapman's work in the wake of the renewed attention she has gotten this year for Combs' cover. "Fast Car" is proving that it is a timeless and beloved song constantly capable of finding new audiences, but it's not the only song on "Tracy Chapman" worthy of such merits. "Talkin' Bout a Revolution," "Across the Lines," "Behind the Wall," and "Why?" all speak deeply to struggles that haven't disappeared in the 34 years since this album came out. The middle of the album falters a bit, but overall Chapman presents a powerful roots rock record that is very deserving of reinvigoration.

Rock genres can be hard to pin down. DLJ is described as post-hardcore, math rock, post-punk, and emo. While they don't sound like what I think of as emo, apparently they were on the leading edge of the genre's evolution before it reached its heights in the early 00s. And I had to get further into the album before it crystallized for me where they belonged. Because I hated the first track and it was really hard to get through. I thought I was going to have to tell pretentious-ass how much I disliked one of his favorites. Things got better though, as the screaming and noise began to take shape rather than just existing for its own sake. pretentious-ass also recommended giving it multiple listens - that did not help the first track (still awful), but it did help the rest. I'm glad I powered through the first song because I do like the rest of the album. Exploring deeper into the references on the Wikipedia page, I found an article that helped understand DLJ's place in the bigger rock picture, placing them firmly among post-hardcore contemporaries like Glassjaw and At the Drive-In. I really liked ATDI, but never explored the genre much further. The article also included Fugazi as an early highlight of the genre, as well as Brand New, who I am familiar with and a band that does make sense as fitting on the border between emo and post-hardcore. I listened to a bit of Glassjaw, and revisited ATDI. I still really love ATDI, even though their songs are either completely nonsensical or at a higher level of poetry than I can understand. But the sound is so great. DLJ just can't match that, but I'm still happy they pushed me to revisit more of the genre. I think "Yank Crime" probably deserves a 3, but there were enough moments I really dug in between less-stellar stuff to allow for a slightly generous 4. Maybe I'm just in the mood for screaming?

I knew the name Steely Dan, but couldn't have told you any of their songs. I knew "Do It Again," "Dirty Work," and "Reelin' in the Years," but didn't know who sang them (or that they were all the same band). I'm happy to have the connection made. But an even stronger connection to the name Steely Dan has now been made, as I have discovered that there was no band member named Dan who was made of steel. Instead, Steely Dan named themselves after a steam-powered dildo in the novel "Naked Lunch." It's too bad I will now associate these songs with industrial-era sex toys, because the first few tracks on "Can't Buy a Thrill" provide some jammin' classic 70s rock. However, by the time "Only a Fool Would Say That" rolled around the softer side came out and certainly once I got to "Brooklyn" I was sure of it - this was one of the first entries in the yacht rock genre. (If any doubt remained, at the end of the album Amazon auto-played Captain & Tennille's "Love Will Keep Us Together.") Yacht rock is not necessarily a bad thing - there is some very listenable yacht rock. But much of the album doesn't have the same appeal for me as those classic singles. At least "Can't Buy a Thrill" came before Steely Dan worked in more jazz and synthesizer. Maybe I'm just not a yacht kind of guy at heart? Or I prefer my dildos battery-powered?

For the second time, I think I just don't get Sly and the Family Stone. It seems like a lot of wasted potential to me. "Stand!" was ok, but I stayed in my seat. "Don't Call Me..." sounded too silly for a song that feels like it should be serious, and the use of the talk box didn't help. "Sex Machine" is not sexy, and just goes on and on and on. "Everyday People" is still a classic, and a couple other tracks have a good energy, but too much of this album sounds like a mess. Apparently this was before Sly became addicted to cocaine and his behavior became "erratic," but I can't really tell much of a difference from "There's a Riot Goin' On."

The Black Crowes have a logo with a couple of cartoon crows on it. They remind me of the crows from Dumbo, except these look stoned or drunk or something. The Dumbo crows were racist caricatures. But I don't have any evidence that the Black Crowes crows are racist. Or that the Black Crowes themselves are racist. But it's an unfortunate connection I can't help but draw. I do have evidence that they are a pretty decent band. On this rollicking bluesy album at least. Then what happened to them? "Shake Your Money Maker" was a pretty big hit. But they never found that level of success again. "Remedy" is the only other Black Crowes song I recognize. I think I want to give this album a 4, but that kind of implies that I'd be interested in seeking out more from their catalog. And while I like it, I'm not quite moved to that level.

Chicago is another of those bands that I know very well by name, but couldn't have told you one of their songs. Looking through their catalog, I was surprised to find that actually "Saturday in the Park" was the only title I instantly recognized. But two minutes into "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?" it suddenly became a song I knew! It seems Chicago is sometimes straight up jazz, sometimes a precursor to 80s easy listening, sometimes organ and electric guitar more fitting of the late 60s, sometimes a preview of 70s soul. Sometimes all at once, sometimes shifting in and out. And then... outta nowhere... the cacophonous experimental noise rock of "Free Form Guitar!?" What is going on here?? I don't think I would have guessed that this album was from 1969. I would have placed it in the late 70s or early 80s? Until "Someday," which is awesomely about the 1968 DNC protests. Overall, there is some really great surprising stuff on "Chicago Transit Authority." And also some stuff I really don't care for. This album leaves me with more questions than answers though. I still don't know what time it is, and I really want to know what questions 66 and 69 are, as well as poems 1-57. Or what genre this is.

The biggest problem with "(What's the Story) Morning Glory" is that I filled my quota for "Wonderwall" years ago. Every subsequent time I listen to that song now overflows the container that I reserve for music that tries to deftly navigate the demilitarized zone between the Fab Four and Brit Shit. Speaking of the Fab Four, "Don't Look Back in Anger" is both the most Beatles-esque and best song on the album, and boy did the world want Oasis to be the second coming of the lads from Liverpool. Which is a totally unfair and unreachable expectation to place on any band, let alone a band that featured two brothers that hated each other too much to get anywhere near the prolific success of the Beatles early years. That said, you don't have to be the Beatles to make a good record. And this is pretty good. Except for "Wonderwall."

I love that Charles Thompson IV took his initial stage name of Black Francis and flipped it to Frank Black as he set off on his solo career. But as a big Pixies fan who never listened to Black's solo work, I started "Teenager of the Year" with unreasonable expectations. I liked a few songs on the first half of this double album, but somehow I got to track 10, "Two Reelers," before I got the Pixies feel I was hoping for. Then I really liked most of the rest of the album. And I kept thinking, what was going on with the first half - were there just too many songs that should have been cut from an overstuffed album? So I had to give it another listen. And not only is the first half better than I initially gave it credit for, but the whole album is fantastic. You're gonna have some misses among 22 tracks, but the overall quality and variety while still maintaining much more Black Francis-ness than I first gave it credit for is a joy. The Pixies were never a big commercial hit, and Black's solo stuff even less so. But this album definitely deserved to be held among the best of its time. Though I'm sure part of the problem was that this came out in 1994, a year with an absolute glut of completely amazing rock music. It's probably generational, but for me it might be rock's greatest year.

This was enjoyable.

I've been sleeping on Gang Starr, despite the fact that they seem to be the originators of my favorite subgenre of hip hop, alongside groups like the Roots, De La Soul, Jurassic 5, and others. While overall I don't think Gang Starr is quite on the level of the best of the genre, I really enjoyed "Step in the Arena." The only song I knew was "Check the Technique," and either because of familiarity or the great strings it was my favorite on the album. Guru's rapping is occasionally a bit too slow in a cornier 80s hip-hop type way, and while he’s got some good lyrics overall his flow is solid but the he’s the weak link here. DJ Premier does a fantastic job of mixing classic beats and scratching with jazz and rock elements. He’s the highlight of the album. While I loved hearing Gang Starr's music, my favorite thing I learned about them today is that each episode title of the first season of the Netflix series Luke Cage, based on the Marvel Comics character, was named after a Gang Starr song. Gang Starr was surpassed by those they inspired, but they’ll get an extra star for their influence.

Have you ever been in an elevator, being steadily and pleasantly elevated one floor after another, only to have the cables break and you suddenly plummet towards the bottom of the shaft? And then the cables are magically repaired and you go up a couple more floors before plunging down again? You've probably never been in that situation, but I have an idea of what it might feel like after having "The Velvet Underground & Nico" repeatedly cable-cut by the Nico songs. I was having a good time, and then Nico's voice intruded upon the flow. Nico is out-of-place here and I don't dig her voice. The rest of the album is good-to-great. Some songs feel like they imitate the Beatles or the Stones without enough to stand out or differentiate themselves, but in other places The Velvet Underground and Lou Reed unleash a punk aesthetic that would inspire the future as much as they were inspired by the past. -1 star for Nico though.

I didn't know it was possible to take the type of voice I dislike most about a certain vein of UK post-punk and pair it with music that makes it even worse. But Orange Juice has managed to do that. This orange juice is definitely not freshly squeezed - probably that weird from concentrate stuff. Annoying disco horns, completely ill-fitting reggaeton drums... OJ just kept impressing me with the horrid depths they dredged. The African-influenced songs where Zeke Manyika took the lead were strange departures as well as the most tolerable/interesting things on the album, but those were also poisoned by the concentrate. I thought orange juice was good as long as there was no Pulp, but it turns out all OJ-inspired bands suck. According to what some random Wikipedia-empowered internet marauder wrote, Orange Juice "became perhaps the most important band in the Scottish independent music scene that emerged in the post-punk era." I had no idea the Scottish independent music scene in the early 80s sucked so much. But it turns out their competition was the Cocteau Twins and The Blue Nile, so things are making a lot more sense now. In some other web rando's blog post were the 20 best Scottish bands of the 80s, but I hadn't heard of any of them before embarking on the 1001. (Side note: post-punk is a ridiculous genre that is overly broad and contains an absurdly wide variety of sounds and styles.) I don't know what it was about Hadrian's Wall that acted as a impenetrable force field for good music. Fortunately, the barrier seems to have been broken, with much better stuff coming out of Scotland these days. Thank you Chvrches (and others), for saving the musical reputation of your nation. I would encourage Orange Juice to take their own advice and "rip it up and start again." Or maybe stop at just ripping it up.

When we went to Greece they served us the fish bone-in, with the head still on and the eyes looking at you and everything. Americans in the 21st century really are spoiled when it comes to how we acquire and eat our food. Kind of amazing how our consumption habits have evolved so quickly over the last century. Get your frozen chicken* nuggets and never have to think about where they came from, how that chicken lost its head and then its bones and got processed into something that... oh, why is that breading and pureed meat mush so yummy!? Get me a 10-piece! Hey, actually, Fishbone is kind of meat mush too. Bits of whatever genres they could find. The first few tracks had me thinking that it was pretty fun, but the middle of the album was more boring and tasteless than any chicken nugget. They recovered a bit at the end with weirdness and some nice social commentary.

On first listen I thought there was more electronica and this was an impressive fusion bringing a more modern approach to R&B. I went back through the first half again and most actually felt more like typical R&B than I first thought. Maybe I wasn't paying close attention the first time and just believed what Wikipedia said about the style? Overall Kelala's "Take Me Apart" is both chill and passionate, and even the less adventurous tracks are enjoyable. The title track, however, is awesome, and is the best example of the electronic fusion.

Neither Rick Davies nor Roger Hodgson were tramps, let alone some kind of super-tramps escaped from a dying world or bitten by radioactive spiders, only to wander the English countryside aimlessly homeless. Despite this distinct lack of actual trampiness, these young lads from comfortable families named their fledgling band after the autobiography of Welsh writer W.H. Davies (no relation?). Of course, to a modern audience the tramp reference is even odder, as for some reason a term around for centuries to refer to homeless vagrants is now, at least in the states, more often used to refer to a woman who has "many casual sexual encounters." A word that saw its peak usage in the late 1800s is now coming back again with a different meaning in the 21st century. And Supertramp a blip in between that made no discernible impact on language usage. Regardless of linguistic history, if you put Elton John, Pink Floyd, and Queen in a blender and spit out something that has elements of all three but none of the star power or hit-making ability of any of them, you'd get Supertramp. "Crime of the Century" was fine, enjoyable even, but it seemed to pale in comparison to its contemporaries. A little too much jazziness sometimes. Apparently their earlier stuff had more of a prog-rock feel, with a shift to a poppier sound with this album. I'd be interested to hear the earlier stuff.

More lies in the titles of albums and the names of bands. Well, not the names of bands in this one. The Band is actually a band. And, I hadn't known before, not just any band, but Bob Dylan's backing band, striking out on their own. But to the lies - this album was not recorded in the house nicknamed "Big Pink." Which makes me question everything. Did he really even pull into Nazareth, let alone do so feeling half past dead? "The Weight" remains an absolute classic, and there are some other pretty good songs on "Big Pink," but nothing else truly stands out. Some decent folk rock, but it doesn't have me clamoring for more.

Shaft was a bad mother (shut your mouth), but you wouldn't know if just from listening to Isaac Hayes' soundtrack. This album felt like chillin' in the jazz club, not chasing down some mobsters or risking his neck for his brother man. There were some cool guitar elements on "Cafe Regio's," but overall I was surprised by the lack of excitement, pace, and action implied in most of these instrumentals, you dig? Does most of the movie "Shaft" involve scenes of Shaft lying in bed relaxing with a good book or a post-coital cigarette? Or walking through the park on a sunny day? The energy finally picks up at the end of "No Name Bar," and "Do Your Thing" does a lot of different things, some of which are pretty great.

This is bad music. This guy is a revered singer-songwriter!? How do I go back to only knowing about "Hallelujah?" There were a couple of mildly tolerable songs in the middle, but the rest was so objectionable that it should be stricken from musical existence, not celebrated as one of the 1001 albums you must listen to. Maybe you don't know brilliance unless you see/hear its opposite?

This album is like a perfect encapsulation of what an unfortunate mess of an artist and person Kanye is. I listened to "College Dropout" and "Late Registration" back in the day, but I don't think I listened to any Kanye after that except for the hits and singles. And now its been so long that I wonder if those early albums are as deeply flawed or if his mental health brought both his personal life and his professional work down dramatically. Because unlike hellyeah, I do think there are flashes of brilliance on "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy." But the brilliance is absent from some songs, and when it is most brilliant it manages to squander said genius on the same track. "POWER" and "All of the Lights" have great foundations and hooks with the makings of all-time greats, but the execution just isn't there all the way through, with Kanye getting in his own way and messing up a good thing. Some of the other songs are just obnoxious from the outset, or overly long, or combination of the two. The album really seems just as bipolar as the man himself. And then I wondered if maybe that was the concept and it was all very intentional? But it turns out Kanye said "Dark Fantasy was my long, backhanded apology. You know how people give a backhanded compliment? It was a backhanded apology. It was like, all these raps, all these sonic acrobatics. I was like: 'Let me show you guys what I can do, and please accept me back. You want to have me on your shelves.'" An apology for being a jerk? An apology for veering away from his earlier sound on "808s?" Doesn't matter. I definitely didn't feel apologized to while listening. And an apology should maybe tone down the ego a bit? I know rap music is almost always going to have ego as an integral element, but the egomania was running wild from Kanye here. And as the "Yeezy taught me" segment with Chris Rock droned on and on, I was done. I wanted to give it 3 stars for a while to honor the brilliance that kept being squandered, but in the end I just can't.

I've only been exposed to a little Malian and Tuareg "desert blues," but I've enjoyed the style every time and "Music in Exile" is more of the same great mixture of guitar and African rhythms and percussion. The story behind this group and album is powerful too, fleeing extremists in northern Mali who banned music and keeping their traditional sounds alive first in Bamako and later in the US and the UK, working with Julian Casablancas of the Strokes, Damon Albarn of Blur and Gorillaz, and opening for Alabama Shakes and performing at Austin City Limits. I might have to go check out the documentary they are featured in, "They Will Have to Kill Us First."

2…3…1?…3?…1?…2?…1…3… I do have the energy to be petty here. Gene Clark was boring and inoffensive, no real reason to bash him. But he's no Jeff Buckley. Clark's average in our group shall be docked in revenge for Buckley's average score. This is the way.

I'm not sure that back-to-back songs can get much better than "Hallelujah" and "Lover You Should Have Come Over." Those were the two Jeff Buckley songs I was most familiar with, but I'm happy to say that I was nearly as blown away by the rest of the album. I likely heard it all the way through a few times, but again, 1994 produced such a prolific abundance of great albums that I probably wasn't ready to fully appreciate it in the mid-90s anyway. Buckley possessed one of the greatest voices in rock history, which was sadly constrained at both ends - first by spending the first decade of his career as a session musician and band member rather than as a lead singer, and then by his tragic death. That history exploring different collaborators and genres certainly benefited him though, and "Grace" wouldn't be the album of diverse and gorgeous sound it is without those experiences. The way these songs build, ebb and flow, rise and fall, is consistently beautiful and powerful. At times Buckley is the stripped-down mellow singer-songwriter, at times the pop rock lead man that reached musical heights that Chris Martin, Travis' Fran Healy, and many others could never match. At times Buckley embraces a very 90s sound, at times it feels like powerfully explosive classic rock of the early 70s, at times you can feel the influence of the wide variety of artists he had worked with early in his career. An incredible singer, but the voice only reaches the heights that it does because of the arrangements and musical vision.

This came out in November of 1979, and I'm pretty sure the intro to the first track created the 80s. Then Faithfull started singing, and let's just say it doesn't improve things. Some questions and observations: What the hell is "Broken English" even trying to say?? The thought of new wave witches is funny. The synthy new-waviness fades away after "Broken English," but I don't exactly care for what replaces it. "Guilt" is a bunch of lies, right? I thought we were veering back into the tolerable music zone there, and then the sax comes in at the end, again heralding the 80s. "What's the Hurry?" The hurry is to get this album over with. Yes, I am running for cover. I didn't think a song about a "Working Class Hero" fit here, and apparently that's because it's a cover of a John Lennon song. And then it finally ends, with the bizarrely crude reggae punk "Why'd Ya Do It." Musically, it almost got interesting there. Lyrically... I don't know but finally it's over.

I don't know what to make of this mix of two very different styles of hip hop. Musically, it is a great example of alternative hip hop/jazz rap, and stands out with some of the better examples of the subgenre. But lyrically, it is not from that world. Too often eschewing the positivity of alternative hip hop for language and themes that are cruder, "Like Water for Chocolate" disappointed for failing to live up to it's potential.

When we listened to Pavement, I wrote "What is indie rock? Someone not signed to a major label? Today the term indie rock seems to have no meaning. It isn't exclusively used for independent label bands, and it doesn't refer to a specific musical style. I could tell you I like indie rock, but really that doesn't tell you much, and while I like many bands that would be classified as indie rock, I also dislike plenty of indie rock." I declared that Pavement was indie rock. In the 90s. But that indie rock today doesn't have much meaning in referring to a specific genre or musical style. That said, The National is probably as close to an indie style as you can find in the 2000s. It's not their labels (but those are independent), it's something about their sound. They're not alternative, or hard rock. They're actually indie. And they have been much buzzed about for nearly two decades now, with "Alligator" and "Boxer" and "High Violet" being a particularly strong run of critically acclaimed hits. And yet, I've never quite gotten into The National. I've never quite been able to put my finger on why, but I think most of it comes down to Matt Berninger's voice. It works ok on some songs, but I never love it, and more often I think it's too droning or something. It probably doesn't help that I generally have no idea what he's singing about. Most of the time I don't mind not understanding lyrics (whether because they're mumbled or just too obtusely poetic to bother with), but I think in those cases the voice has to be more pleasant or fitting with the music or akin to another instrument. But I rarely feel that with Berninger. The National definitely has their own very recognizable sound, consistent on all of their albums I've heard songs from. It just isn't quite my thing, despite being my thing-adjacent.

The message: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ The music: ⭐️⭐️ The social commentary is biting and on point, but the rapping and beats are hit and miss. There are a few three or four star songs, and less random yelling from Flava Flav (see my “Fear of a Black Planet” review), but this still falls short of its potential. But, damn, they pulled no punches, especially at the end of “Shut Em Down.”

Björk’s work is always clearly and uniquely Björk, but beyond the vocals and the off-kilter experimentalism it has actually evolved a lot over the years. Since I had listened but never written reviews as we encountered her albums, I’m now going back and re-listening with more of an interest in trying to make sense of the variety. “Debut,” her… debut, was backed by rather bland and unchallenging electronica. But that was no longer the case by the time of “Vespertine.” The arrangements are sparser, swelling and fading, building tension and emotion. The harps and tinkling percussion found in parts of “Debut” are still here, but the violins and strings that were so prominent on “Vulnicura” had not arrived yet.

When you are a pioneer, trying to blaze new trails, you don't always find the ideal route the first time. "Blue Lines" has been credited as the first trip-hop album, and knowing Massive Attack's trip-hop reputation I was excited to listen. However, these are clearly the early experiments of the genre, not its later heights. Some of the beats and structure were what I expected, but the soul vocals were not what I was looking for. And though I remember liking Tricky's solo stuff, the tracks that featured him were not much better. "Blue Lines" is somewhere in the 2-3 range, minus a star for the disappointment, plus a star for pioneering a genre that would later produce some amazing material... (Interestingly, after listening to this I stumbled upon Massive Attack's "Teardrop" on Sirius XMU. Definitely the Massive Attack song I'm most familiar with. So much better than "Blue Lines." Then a few songs later they played The National's "The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness." (We also listened to The National last week.) Fantastic song. Probably my favorite I've heard from them. Better than anything on "High Violet." I thought both of those popping up today was pretty serendipitous.)

I was surprised by a more alternative hip hop sound (though with a harder edge to the lyrics). In 1991 Nas really sounded like a bridge between 80s hip hop and 90s gangsta rap. You can hear a shift in his style by 1996's "It Was Written." I've always liked Nas, and this added exposure doesn't change that. However, nothing really stands out on "Illmatic" as a can't miss track. It's very even, without extreme highs or lows.

Take soul, jazz, and pop and put it in a blender and what do you get? Yes, you get Sade, but more importantly you get "sophisti-pop." "The term has been applied retrospectively to music that emerged during the mid-1980s in the UK which incorporated elements of new wave, jazz, soul, and pop. Music so classified often made extensive use of electronic keyboards, synthesizers and polished arrangements." It's a bit of a silly name for a genre, but regardless of the name it's not really a genre for me. A lot of sax and smoothness, but not what I'm looking for.

The trick to Tricky seems to be chaos and some kind of mad musical genius. Which is not to say that "Maxinquaye" is genius, but rather that the way Tricky makes music can apparently not be understood by, well, anyone but Tricky. And then again, crediting Tricky with making this music is kind of complicated. It seems much of the credit should go to Mark Saunders, the producer that was somehow able to wade through Tricky's bizarre creative methods to craft something listenable. https://www.soundonsound.com/techniques/classic-tracks-tricky-black-steel This account of the making of "Maxinquaye" was dizzying. I don't know how Saunders massaged all of that into a successful album. I gave Massive Attack's debut a 2, and the first half of this is much better than that (thanks in large part due to Saunders and Martina Topley-Bird's vocals), so I want to score this higher. On the other hand, Tricky ripped off Portishead's "Glory Box" (and did it worse than them - I kept wanting "Hell is Round the Corner" to magically morph into "Glory Box"), "Ponderosa" ruins the chill vibe established by the opening track, and the back half of the album is very uneven, to put it kindly. So there is some stuff on here that's better than "Blue Lines," though you wouldn't know it from my score.

Upon discovering, prior to listening, that this was classified as world music by a guy named Jah Wobble, let's just say I didn't picture John Joseph Wardle from Stepney, East London. Then start listening, and try to imagine that this guy was inches away from being in the Sex Pistols. But since Johnny Rotten and Sid Vicious are such better noms de plume than Jah Wobble, maybe it was for the best. I guess if 1973 Sid Vicious drunkenly gave me a nickname I would run with it too? Not 1978 Sid Vicious though. But Jah Wobble was too crazy for the Sex Pistols!? "Rising Above Bedlam" is not crazy. But going by the nickname your drunk and slurring 16-year-old friend gave you for the rest of your career and life. That's crazy.

There is some strong nostalgia here, and a few mostly deserved 90s hits. But there are also some pretty cringey lyrics, and some forgettable songs in between the hits. While Shirley Manson was probably what got Garbage the attention, Butch Vig is probably the most interesting in terms of the evolution of rock and grunge in the 90s. His role as a producer for Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins leads me to view Garbage in a slightly different light. However, in the end the works he produced for other bands rise above the efforts here.

This is NOT ambient music. But what are you getting with "Warm Jets?" Warm, not hot. We're not going full hot tub here. This is just a bathtub with jacuzzi nozzles. You get in, and turn the jets on, and they "Needle" you with their propulsive power. But then you shift a bit and now the jets are hitting you right in the "Paw Paws" and you can't stop giggling. You don't mean to giggle, but it's just so damn ridiculous sitting there in the warm jets. And then it just gets weirder from there. You start to think about this tub full of warm jets. Who else has been in this tub? What strange diseases have been passed around to make the unnatural sounds you are hearing gurgling up from below? For a moment there's hope. Cindy gets in the tub. "Oh, here's a cute, normal lady," you say. But then it turns out she's actually a cicada, I think? Well there's no place for that in the warm tub. Cicada Cindy gets out of the tub, but she must have broken something, because all of a sudden the jets have no juice and everything is sluggish and not-so-warm, as if the jets are firing backwards. You try to ignore it and relax and pretend you're on a faraway beach, but then some crazy loud plumber named Frank barges in and breaks the tub, possibly for good. Can't see it working after this. This is NOT ambient music. Though I almost kinda sorta wish it was.

They were sober when they came up with the disharmonies, cacophonies, and looseness and lack of precision that likely guided many a psychedelic experience among listeners for decades afterwards!? My big concern is that there is some old hippie out there somewhere who still thinks he's a rock. He dosed at the start of "Freak Out!" and was getting into a decent groove as the fuzzed out weirdness progressed, and was just on the edge of keeping his s#!t together when "Help, I'm a Rock" came on. Halfway through, he considered the possibility that he was actually a cop, but couldn't find his uniform and thus concluded that he was some kind of conscious aggregation of minerals. Ever since, unable to find his way back to reality, he was wandered the Haight asking confounded passersby for help. Don't let your kids listen to rock music!

The middle of this album is so terrific, but it just takes too long to get there, and equally too long to get out of it. "Have a Cigar" and "Wish You Were Here" deserve a tighter album. Even "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" has a fantastic core, but it gets lost in the additional meandering parts that don't even come across as a long evolving jam, but rather separate pieces that start and stop, fade in and out. But when Pink Floyd is good, they're really great.

It took some searching, with "One Nation Under a Groove" unavailable on Amazon Music, to get into the groove. But YouTube saved the day, and my frustration was washed away by the funk. My toes were tapping, my day was brightened. Funk is not necessarily my thing, but I won't say no to this. Well, maybe I would say no to the "musical bowel movement" of "Promentalshitbackwashpsychosis Enema Squad (The Doo Doo Chasers)" - those are some absolutely hilarious lyrics to read, but it's a bit agonizing to listen to. Though I do appreciate that it helped to rid me of moral diarrhea, social bullshit, crazy doo doo, and mental poots.

I’m gonna disagree with a couple group members here. I think “Kala” is the stronger MIA album. (Though reading their reviews, which they wrote far apart while I listened to both albums in the same day while playing catchup, I’m not entirely sure they realized it was the same artist?) Not sure if it’s more personal experience for MIA, the all-star collection of collaborators, or something else, but “Kala” feels like a more well-developed version of the sound she debuted on “Arular.” The major standout is “Paper Planes,” which hits like no other song on the album. From that intro to the hook, it’s something really special, and why it was nominated for Record of the Year. But I have a love/hate relationship with it. The gun shots and reload really annoy me, dulling the buzz of a great song. There’s other great tracks here too, though, from hard hitting political and social stands to something a bit more whimsical, and even a stealth Pixies cover on “20 Dollar.” The diversity of styles and sounds on “Kala” is a wild ride to experience, even if it doesn’t always quite work. I also love that it ends with a Timbaland-produced track that again proves that he has one of the most recognizable sounds in hip hop.

Disclaimer: Adolf Hitler was a horrible, genocidal maniac. When the Autobahn was created in the 1920s and 30s, it became the first modern national highway system. And it happened largely thanks to the rise of Hitler and the Nazi Party, who invested considerable economic and human capital into its construction. It allowed, among other things, the easier mobilization of the Nazi war machine. And after the war, it inspired the creation of Eisenhower's Interstate Highway System, which in turn solidified the dominance of post-war car culture, lack of mass transit infrastructure, and gas-guzzling and fast food addictions. Were they setting us up for future conquest all along? Kraftwerk's "Autobahn" begins with the title track that feels like you are cruising down the highway with no speed limit, even literally singing "We drive, drive, drive on the Autobahn." Then you take the next exit, and the roads get stranger and more experimental. One song/road was built around a leaky faucet, I think. Both the Autobahn and Kraftwerk's "Autobahn" were ahead of their time, and paved the way for things both great and awful. Only one of them was built by an evil dictator, though.

I flow three ways on Sunday and when the sun is shining I can't seem to find the phone or dial the right number. Then things shift and they continue moving in that direction, buzzing and clacking and who knows what else. For the twelfth time the underside is revealed and special things fall out. Better that way than if you payed attention. But for some, this is the way of the world. Improvisation! Play without thinking. Write without thinking. Live without thinking! But I have no artistic talent, so writing or playing without thinking just results in mush. Not so with Miles.

Oh, Ryan Adams, I wish you weren't such a terrible person. A fantastic songwriter. And a terrible person. The only thing he loves as much as his harmonica is being an abusive prick. This is as country as I can tolerate. It hits just right for me, in a sweet spot that I used to love. But Ryan Adams has spoiled all that. I'm gonna keep tapping my foot, because I can't help it, but he can shove his harmonica where the sun don't shine. This is a four-star album. But -1 because I just can't enjoy it in the same way anymore.

“I sort of don’t trust anybody who doesn’t like Led Zeppelin,” Jack White said in the documentary "It Might Get Loud."

Apparently I didn't like Iggy Pop's "The Idiot" very much a few months ago. But "Lust for Life" was better. The first five songs were great - I don't think I ever realized "The Passenger" was Iggy. "Success" was the least successful song on the album for me, but the rest was strong, and definitely makes me much more likely to revisit Iggy than "The Idiot."

I didn't know a Stones album could be this boring. Seemed more like imitations of late 50s and early 60s rock, and not the bold attempts at pushing the genre of blues rock that makes up the Stones' best stuff.

Well that was a surprise stealth supergroup! Not just a solo outing for Jeff Beck (a name I knew but not his history as Eric Clapton's replacement in the Yardbirds), the Jeff Beck Group also included Stones drummer Ronnie Wood and Rod Stewart. And I can now never look at Rod Stewart the same way again. This was the music his voice was meant for!

It was fine, I guess? I'm not equipped with the musical or cultural knowledge to properly judge this.

The first half of the album wasn't really what I expected from the band I knew from "I Want You To Want Me" and "Surrender." It was heavier, but nothing really stood out. The two hits, on the other hand, have great catchy hooks. This live album was Cheap Trick's most popular, feeding off their apparent Japanese fandom, but the recording is a bit underwhelming.

As an educator, I just don't know what to do with "When I Kissed the Teacher." They may have tried to get back on course with "Dancing Queen," but it was too late. "Arrival" was poisoned on arrival by the creepy opener. But wait, the "Dancing Queen" in question is only 17? Is she the one who kissed the teacher? Oh, also, I just don't like this music.

I wonder how many pairs of the Fly sunglasses Bono had. Dude wore them non-stop rain or shine for a couple years, it seems. And I think that was my real first exposure to Bono and U2. I may have heard some "Joshua Tree" on the radio, but I was too young to appreciate it. The Fly Bono was U2 to me for a while. Looking back now, I can see why they wanted to reinvent themselves, and respect artists who work hard to not just pump out the same record over and over. But "the sound of four men chopping down The Joshua Tree," as Bono called "The Fly," is kind of sad. Listening back to "Achtung Baby" now though, it seems less of a departure than it probably felt like in 1991. I listen to it now knowing the full scope of U2's career, and the progression of alternative rock and stadium rock in the three decades since. And it's pretty decent. It's not my favorite U2, but it's also not my least favorite - I like most of it (especially "Mysterious Ways"). Despite not liking Bono as The Fly. Or liking any other incarnation of Bono really. Quite unusual how their music somehow transcends their gregarious and oxygen-sucking lead singer for the most part in my mind.

A reviewer described Bryan Ferry's voice as an "elegant, seductive croon." Umm... agree to disagree on that one.

I've heard of Adam Ant. But not Adam & The Ants. I wondered, was I wrong the whole time and there is no Adam Ant? Just some guy named Adam with some ants? No, it turns out he really is named Adam Ant. But none of the other members of Adam & The Ants are ants. Why not Andy Ant or Lester Ant? Maybe they weren't as committed to the gimmick. Because Adam Ant was certainly committed to the gimmick. Which was a pirate gimmick? But what do pirates have to do with ants? A legit pirate named Adam Ant would not inspire much terror on the high seas. The makeup and silly facial hair is ok - see Jack Sparrow and De Niro's Captain Shakespeare. I just don't think ants wouldn't make for good pirates. I wanted to hate "Kings of the Wild Frontier." But they sounded like they were just having so much fun. Extra star for embracing it, even if it sucked.

It takes a pair to call your album "The Genius Of"... yourself. But for Ray Charles it is well deserved. His voice is wonderful, and the songs are timeless.

I kinda figured I'd be the only one in the group with a positive view of this one. I really dug this album when it first came out, and still mostly do. While I think I prefer At the Drive-In, the previous band from The Mars Volta's driving creative forces, I like "Deloused in the Comatorium" and "Frances the Mute." I totally get why they can be too much though. To many, the vocals are probably polarizing, or just straight-up off-putting. But I don't mind the frantic, high-energy shrieking. The pace shifts are also off-putting to many I believe. Something about time signatures? I kinda know what that means musically, but will probably sound ignorant trying to describe it. The songs quickly accelerate or decelerate, and sometimes devolve into chaotic noise or meandering background sounds. I don't know, but I dig it. And I listened to ATDI's "Relationship of Command" again, and like it even more than "Deloused."

Among the seminal texts of the 20th century, "1984" is a rare work that grows more haunting as its futuristic purgatory becomes more real. It offers a nightmarish vision of a totalitarian, bureaucratic world and one poor stiff's attempt to find individuality. The brilliance is in the prescience of modern life—the ubiquity of television, the distortion of the language—and his ability to construct such a thorough version of hell. Required reading for students since it was published, it ranks among the most terrifying novels ever written. Hold on, wrong "1984"... I loved the first Wonder Woman movie. So how did the same people create such unwatchable trash in "1984?" Hold on, that's not right either... 1984 was a year of disappointments. I stopped being an only child. Reagan was overwhelmingly re-elected. The Olympic Games were held without the US getting a chance to beat communists. The Tigers and the Raiders and Italian soccer were world champs. I give the year one star. Wait, I'm gonna get this right... Ah, I'm supposed to be reviewing "Panama." Great country. With a plethora of deserted islands, chilled Caribbean vibes on one side and monster Pacific swells on the other, Panama sits poised to deliver the best of beach life. And a whole other world begins at the water's edge. Seize it by scuba diving with whale sharks in the Pacific, snorkeling the rainbow reefs of Bocas del Toro or setting sail in the indigenous territory of Guna Yala, where virgin isles sport nary a footprint. Meanwhile, surfers will be psyched to have world-class breaks all to themselves. Hello, paradise. And finally... Listening to Van Halen's "1984," I recalled my Bon Jovi review from a while back. "I feel like rock got progressively heavier through the 60s and 70s until it gave birth to heavy metal and thrash metal. Then the 80s took that heavy sound and dialed it back for pop radio and consumerism, and thus came hair bands." Yep, that fits Van Halen, even if they aren't quite in the hair band grouping. There are some classics on here, but I can't help hearing their guitar riffs and thinking about how they took heavy metal riffs and made them a bit too palatable and frankly kind of boring. And as a somewhat attractive educator, I can't get down with the whole vibe of "Hot For Teacher." That song, by the way, starts with one of those aforementioned diluted metal riffs before trying to save it by segueing into a nice little blues bit, but then ruins it with weird horniness. Also, I am not in agreement on the synths. Particularly the weird fake organ stuff on "I'll Wait." I think that song would be so much better if they stuck to guitars. Anyway... tldr... lousy year, great book, middling album.

Somehow ahead of its time and one-of-a-kind and timeless all at the same time. 1983!? A year before the previously mentioned abomination of 1984? I first heard "Blister in the Sun" in the early 90s, having no idea that it was nearly a decade old. It's one of the songs that got me into music. I mean, I'd always listened to music, but it was just whatever radio station or cassettes my parents put on. A bunch of pop radio and Madonna and Paula Abdul. So Violent Femmes was a revelation. It's a sound that somehow combines punk, surf rock, folk and country rock, alternative, 90s and 00s indie, and more all into something that is all of those and none of those and more. It is cohesive and consistent for the duration. Violent Femmes does not boast the best vocals or the cleanest playing, but it is more than the sum of its parts. Much more.

https://timeline.com/the-cocaine-fueled-fascist-who-almost-destroyed-david-bowie-46bf936e3035 https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/rock-star-david-bowie/ "Station to Station" declares “the return of the Thin White Duke." But also, thankfully, the end of the Thin White Duke. My music education has many gaps, with the 70s being the biggest void. With the 1001, I am slowly filling in those gaps, and connecting the dots. The intertwined history of David Bowie and Iggy Pop, in particular, has been illuminating. And what I've learned about this period in Bowie's life and career has been... well... I'm glad he moved past the Thin White Duke. Inventing a character just as outlandish as Ziggy Stardust, albeit in a much more controversial direction, was certainly a choice. It's not a gimmick anyone could get away with in 2022. As far of the music goes, I like it only barely more than I like the Thin White Duke persona. Not saying much. Each song has a little bit of something that I dig, but it's drowned out by too much that's not for me. Bowie's impending return to Europe apparently also came with an interest in krautrock, and early signs of it show in the opener's extended intro which brought back unfortunate memories of Kraftwerk's "Autobahn." "Discussing his flirtations with fascism in a 1980 interview with NME, Bowie explained that Los Angeles was 'where it had all happened. The fucking place should be wiped off the face of the Earth. To be anything to do with rock and roll and go and live in Los Angeles is, I think, just heading for disaster. It really is.'" Well, I'm glad he got out, I guess? And glad he eventually shook the demons he took with him when he left.

-Who’s Next? -Um, The Who? -Yes. -Wait, Yes? Like “Owner of a Lonely Heart?” The band Yes? -No, not The Band. Not “The Weight.” -I don’t want to wait - I’m impatient - I want to know who. -The Who. -Yes, that’s what I’m asking you - Who? Who’s next? Were The Who asking “Who’s Next” to rip off and ape their style? “Who’s Next” has a noticeably different style from “My Generation” and “The Who Sells Out.” This 1971 album feels like a marked shift towards 70s classic and southern rock with a sprinkle of progressive rock and probably something else too. It may not have been very original, but I think the change suited them. I do really like “Baba O’Riley” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” though. I think a lot of my fondness for “Baba O’Riley” comes from Pearl Jam covers, but The Who original is pretty great too.

I was excited for some classic rock, but wound up underwhelmed and mostly unimpressed. "Smoke on the Water" is a fondly remembered classic, but this version is a bit too much. In fact, every track is a bit too much. A bit too much extended jamming. A bit too much trying desperately to be cool and for some reason coolness stays just out of reach no matter how many minutes the song drones on for. Deep Purple is held up as members of the "unholy trinity of British hard rock and heavy metal in the early to mid- seventies" along with Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, according to rock journalist Joel McIver's book about Black Sabbath. But Deep Purple does not have nearly as deep a catalog of hits as either of those other bands. Sabbath certainly influenced heavy metal. Led Zeppelin influenced everyone but could never be duplicated. But maybe Deep Purple were influential on hair metal? Thanks Deep Purple.

I think the punk and post-punk of the late 70s and early 80s has been my favorite part of exploring the 1001, because I've discovered some great stuff I didn't know before. And some less than great stuff, but even those were certainly interesting. With still more to come as we continue the journey. Of that period and genre, I think I like Siouxsie and the Banshees the best. It feels very unique, but not too odd or alienating. It sounds like they may have gone through some stylistic evolutions during their career, but "Juju" is terrific. I love the sharp, piercing guitar work and the understated percussion, and while it took me a few songs to get into Siouxsie's voice, I wound up liking it on most songs. It's too bad they left the punk behind and seem to have become a pretty typical 80s band, with a few decent songs and maybe more than a few annoying ones. I'll put some tracks from "Juju" in regular rotation though.

Here's Peter Tosh calling for the legalization of marijuana in 1976 (in Jamaica). Tosh also said "Herb will become like cigarettes," in an NME interview in 1978. Yet here we are, 46 years later, and cigarettes have become much less common and marijuana is still not culturally acceptable at the level Tosh was pleading for. Five years after this album was released, President Nixon called for a "War on Drugs" as part of the tough-on-crime platform of the Republican Party, and countless lives have been ruined by this war in the years since. In Jamaica, possession of up to 2 oz. of ganja was decriminalized in 2015, and in 2018 the first medical cannabis dispensary opened after medical marijuana was legalized. In the United States, marijuana is legalized in 18 states, 2 territories, and the District of Columbia – but illegal at federal level. Decriminalized in another 13 states and 1 territory. Despite these recent changes, 8.2 million Americans were arrested for marijuana between 2001 and 2010, and 80% of those were for simple possession. On top of that, blacks are 3.73 times more likely to be arrested for marijuana than whites. The numbers improved only slightly from 2010-2020, mostly offset by increases in methamphetamine arrests. Over 40,000 Americans are in prison for marijuana offenses, and millions more have criminal records that impact their quality of life. The War on Drugs is a failure. Legalize It.

That's a very impressive ability to alternate so dynamically between too boring and too weird.

Bowie certainly seems to have captured some sort of zeitgeist here. I'm not sure if it's the zeitgeist of 1977, or some Blade Runner-esque 2177 dystopia, but it's got a vibe. Not my vibe, granted, but a vibe. Some of the songs could make for some interesting sci-fi or fantasy movie soundtrack material, but I wasn't feeling it as an album to listen to in 2022.

RHCP’s 1999 mega-hit opens with proof of their growth and immediately shows why it was their biggest album. “Around the World” merges funk and spoken word with big choruses and back-up vocal harmonies. Then the Flea bassline drives “Parallel Universe” and melodic John Frusicante riffs reminiscent of “Under the Bridge” and “Breaking the Girl” carry “Scar Tissue” - it all begins to suggest a maturity you didn’t think the Chili Peppers were capable of. And again there on “Scar Tissue” (and others) with the back-up harmonies! I didn’t think this album would hold up as well as it does. I don’t know if Anthony Keidis ever really grew up, but only 8 years after “Blood Sugar Sex Magic,” it certainly sounded like he had. I explored the divergent paths of RHCP and Pearl Jam in my previous Peppers review, and it’s worth returning to here. Both bands were raw and unrestrained in their 1991 star-making offerings. By 1999 both were more mature and their music more refined and restrained. I love the way both of their sounds evolved. But while “Californication” and “Yield” both held plenty of commercial hit potential, it was no longer something that Pearl Jam pursued. Meanwhile, Keidis and RHCP reveled in it, and as a result have had longer lasting stardom and popularity (even if Pearl Jam has been more consistent in the past two decades).

David Robert Jones picked his stage name from the bowie knife because, he claimed, “it cuts both ways.” I’ve been cut by David Bowie’s albums eight different times now, and I’m definitely had more than enough. Bowie doesn’t quite live up to his namesake blade, the one which Crocodile Dundee declared “no, this is a knife!” Through eight albums and many different iterations, I’m finally done with David Bowie. None of the iterations really do it for me. Not Ziggy Stardust, not the Thin White Duke, and not a lad insane. “Panic in Detroit” was pretty good, but overall “Aladdin Sane” was just too much glam for me. David Bowie is, though, better than BowieNet, the internet service provider he started in 1998, and Bowie Kuhn, the MLB commissioner who tried to prevent free agency. But higher ranking Bowies I can still tolerate include Bowie, Maryland (home of Bowie State University and the former Bowie Baysox). And the bowie knife. Still a good knife.

This outdated raver stuff from the 90s brought back memories and put me on a carousel of nostalgia that I didn't want to get off of.

I had it in my head that I didn’t like this album ages ago when I first listened. And said “Liege and Lief” was better when we later listened to that. But my recollection was not supported by this re-listen. I enjoyed “Unhalfbricking.” I read as I began that they were known as the “British Jefferson Airplane,” and I definitely hear a folkier version of JA’s psychedelic rock. And heard similarities between the voices of Sandy Denny and Grace Slick. I had actually compared the two singers on that “Liege and Lief” review, maybe without knowing about the common comparison? Somewhat amusingly, there are 3 Bob Dylan covers on the album, and though there’s already too much Dylan on the list, it turns out it’s nice to hear his songs sung by a different voice.

The first song had me a little concerned about the direction of the album, but I wound up pleasantly surprised. It wasn't all a not-quite-successful attempt to follow in the footsteps of Radiohead (who likely can't be replicated). In fact, "Halcyon Digest" is the rare album that consistently gets better as it goes along. By the end, I realized I had solidly enjoyed it, and will check out more Deerhunter in the future.

When we listened to "Exit Planet Dust," my addled memory said that "Dig Your Own Hole" would be the better of the two Chemical Brothers albums on the list. It was the one I had heard more back in the day, but it turned out to be not all I remembered it to be. "Block Rockin' Beats," once past the iconic intro, gets pretty repetitive and annoying, and the repetitive nature sticks around with many songs looping sounds for way too long. The breaks and transitions did not nearly hit the highs I was expecting. "Setting Sun" and "It Doesn't Matter" almost saved things, but it was too little too late.

Through most of them title track, Alexis sat in the back seat screaming “I wanna different snack!” over and over and over. After about two minutes she briefly switched to “I wanna chewy bar!” for a bit. Her incessant screaming fit right in with AC/DC. (And the excessive repetition of an abrasive sound would have fit with yesterday’s Chemical Brothers.) But how did Brian Johnson (and Bon Scott before him) deal with the effects of that much yelling and screaming? Alexis wore herself out and eventually stopped. But the AC/DC singers must have spent a lot of time caring for their voices after performing. Honey? Salt water gargle? Marshmallow root? Maybe it was just the wrong time for me to listen to AC/DC. It's great in small doses, but this was too much. There's no levels to it. If they need a new lead singer though, Alexis could give them a run for their shouting money.

I find myself quite conflicted. "Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables" is political, fast, and urgent, with much brilliant pointed commentary and erudite references. It is also satirical almost to a fault, and trying to parse the attempted wit from the caricature that is Jello Biafra may be futile. The spirit behind the album is passionate and infectious and quite commendable, but listen too closely and it may fall apart a bit. Biafra is apparently not an anarchist, though you could understandably mistake him for one on some tracks. It's the overboard satire that seems designed to push all of the buttons that leads to confusion. But not an actual anarchist, which is good, because while an interesting thought experiment, anarchy is idiotic. "California Uber Alles" was the most notable shark-jumper for me. Comparing Jerry Brown to Nazis is a bit much. And here I thought comparing anyone slightly more fascist than yourself to actual Nazis was more of a 21st century thing. And through no fault of this 1980-released album, today may have been the wrong day to listen to "I Kill Children," regardless of the intended meaning and effect of the song. There is a lot to like here, though, and Dead Kennedys' influence cannot be mistaken. Political punk this angry rose to the surface again in the 1990s with Rage Against the Machine and System of a Down, the latter of which I definitely hear developing out of DK's surf-rock spaz. I think both of those bands do it better though, toning down the satire a little in exchange for more bite.

As someone who doesn't generally dig mainstream country music, the general lack of it on the 1001 has been appreciated. However, as someone who doesn't generally dig mainstream country music, I was very interested to listen to Kacey Musgraves' "Golden Hour" in the hope that her reputation for defying genre norms and boundaries was well-earned. And I guess that reputation is somewhat well-earned. But not in a way that made me enjoy the album. "Golden Hour" features some pretty typical country songs, some indie singer-songwriter-ish songs with a bit of a country twang, and some pop songs with a country twang. Some of the indie ballads were fine, but not good enough to overshadow the pop and country songs, which did nothing for me. It's like trying to contain all of Taylor Swift's career phases within one album, and while I'm not a Swift fan her songs are still generally catchier and stick with you more. Overall, this was a pretty forgettable album.

The first three songs are justified classics, but it sure does fall off after that, getting trapped in some kind of lounge jazz (or yacht jazz?) slumber until "The Man's Too Strong" attempts to save things. Side notes: -Dire Straits is a terrific band name, though not sure the band is quite worthy of it -Didn't recall that the original "Money for Nothing" included... those... lyrics. -Lead Mark Knopfler apparently did the score for "The Princess Bride" -Those middle tracks were really awful. That's not a side note, that's the main point here, and they are more responsible for this album's score than the good stuff.

You could ask questions about Paul Simon appropriating African music to revitalize his career. You could ask questions about Simon's choice to feature South African artists during apartheid against the recommendations of peers such as Harry Belafonte. You could ask questions about Simon and Garfunkel's on again, off again relationship. But none of that seems to matter when you are tapping your foot to "Graceland."

The careers of Pat Smear, Belinda Carlisle, and Joan Jett are three fascinating threads to pull on, and their intersection in the brief but significant history of the Germs is kind of cool. As for "GI," Smear is the best thing on it. Everything else is muddy, but the guitar sometimes shines. While hardcore punk may thrive in that muddiness, eschewing the need to play proficiently or clearly with singing not intended to be good or even pleasant, the muddiness on "GI" made it so that none of the songs was able to rise out of the muck.

"Not Available" was, in fact, available. "Pling!" was a bit of an inaccurate onomatopoeia for that song. And "Aht Uh Mi Hed" makes it clear that spelling wasn't really Shuggie Otis' thing. But chill funk music was his thing, and he did it well. Nothing blew me away, but it was even and consistent.

I recognized the name Dizzie Rascal from his 15 minutes of fame in 2003. I vaguely recalled finding him interesting, and thus looked forward to listening to “Boy in Da Corner” nearly 20 years later. And it was, no doubt, interesting. It felt fresh and different, for either 2003 or 2022. The grime style is one I want to like. But uniqueness aside, I just couldn’t get into it. “Fix Up, Look Sharp” is the track I remember, and I do think that refrain is the coolest thing on the album. But while I’m glad grime exists, I think it’s just not for me.

The first two tracks are well-recognized hits, but I immediately worried that I wouldn’t like a whole album that sounded like them. Luckily, the rest of the album was faster, more urgent, more raucous, and I wound up liking it more than “Hate to Say I Told You So.”

The War on Drugs has been a massive failure. I mean, it’s kind of dumb anyway to declare war on something that can’t surrender or sign a treaty anyway (the US hasn’t actually declared a military war since WWII), but the War on Drugs is worse than that. It has caused prison populations to explode, created a school to prison pipeline, and shattered communities. And people still use drugs! So thanks tough-on-crime Republicans, and the Democrats that went along with them (and sometimes even made it worse), for 45 years of cruel, insensitive, and just plain stupid policy. War on Drugs the band is a very different story, and a massive success. I’ve loved “Under the Pressure,” “Red Eyes,” and a few other War on Drugs songs from other albums, but never sought out a full album. While I really enjoyed “Lost in the Dream” overall, I found it to the the opposite of The Hives’ “Your New Favorite Band” - two singles to start the record, but while The Hives got better, War on Drugs never quite reached those highs again. While neither are my new favorite band, they are both bands I’ll be listening to more of.

This is the sound of a band in crisis. Not a break up crisis. Or a substance abuse crisis. Rather an identity crisis. It was simultaneously the last radio-friendly blue-eyed soul album from the Young Rascals and also the first psychedelic rock album from the evolving and maturing Rascals. And on both ends, it’s fine. Nothing great or standout. Relatively listenable. But it also swings back and forth between the two styles in an occasionally jarring way.

I’m the opposite of hellyeah on this one. Most of “Snivilisation” is pretty boring techno, better as background than dance music. It probably was influential in its time, but now there are hundreds of lo-fi YouTube channels that are not far off from this. It’s “Are We Here?” that I liked best, so don’t listen to hellyeah. The drum and bass finally got me moving, and it consistently built to great breaks throughout its 15 minutes. +1 to a 2-star album.

“Fame” is great. “Fame” has funk. “Fame” has soul. Y’know what “Fame” doesn’t have? Annoying horns. Excessive backup singing. Obnoxiously sung Beatles covers. The rest of the album has those things. And it’s awful. No iteration of Bowie has been a hit with me. But this one is my least favorite.

The previous day brought us Bowie's "Young Americans," and I found the horns on that album tremendously annoying. Not so with "Home is Where the Music Is," which is filled with warm and exuberant horns. I was not at all familiar with Hugh Masekela, the "father of South African jazz," but I love his style.

Pretentious-ass is correct that barleycorn is alcohol-related, but it's also a unit of measurement (1/3 of an inch). The relation to barley and hence alcohol is what leads us to the traditional British character and folk song and also to the Jack London autobiography, both named "John Barleycorn." But if London came to embody the alcoholic first referenced in the song 400 years earlier, why does Traffic insist he must die? I still don't know why "John Barleycorn Must Die," but I do now understand why the label for Delirium Tremens features a pink elephant, as London's novel included the first use of pink elephants as a stereotypical hallucination for the very drunk. Is it a teetotaler thing!? Even if you don't like his drinking and associate it with all the ills of society, killing him hardly seems like an appropriate solution. We've discussed prohibition of substances here before. It doesn't work, people. As for the music, the aforementioned "Barleycorn" was a very weird folk detour on a... what genre was the rest of that? The front half was very horn and woodwind heavy (it's been a pretty horny series of albums lately), and man those woodwind solos are something... I thought we had listened to Traffic before, but we hadn't. Then I thought again, and was sure we'd had some progressive jazz smooth rock type thing. Ah, but that was Chicago, about which I'd said similar things about the jazzy instruments and vague genre. And originally they were the Chicago Transit Authority, which probably does something to regulate Traffic. So let's call this gridrock. Get it?

I was excited by the prospect of this, but wound up disappointed. It may have been influential, but what it influenced far surpassed it.

A brilliant start, but it never comes close to returning to the heights of “Paint it Black.” Too much misogyny and not enough blues or passion.

“Blood on the Tracks” is more focused, less filler, and less Dylan getting carried away with his voice and harmonica than on “Freewheelin’.” But it lacks the highs he reached in the 60s with his hits.

I... actually didn't hate this. Tracks 2-5 were kind of decent. I wouldn't listen to it again, but I didn't find it objectionable. The definition of a 3-star album.

One of the most iconic albums of all time, and well-deserved. Few albums have made as big of a splash, made more of an impact in launching an era of music.

Fiona Apple is brilliant. But there is just a bit too much spoken word on “Fetch the Bolt Cutters,” and too many songs that Apple is determined to add an overly weird segment just for the sake of being quirky.

We listened to this on the first leg of our road trip two weeks ago. I did not like it. I can’t remember why specifically, but I know I don’t want to go back and listen again to find out why.

Velvet Underground’s third album is such a big departure from “White Light/White Heat.” Apparently it was the removal of John Cale that was largely responsible for the shift, paired with Lou Reed’s desire to head in a more palatable and marketable direction. First listening to it right after “White Light,” I was bored. But I think that was just a comedown from the chaos of the previous album. On “Velvet Underground,” you get a flash of the former on “Murder Mystery,” while “Pale Blue Eyes” is the most successful of the new direction. As much as “White Light” was an influence for the future of punk and noise rock, “Velvet Underground” suggests much of the lo-fi indie folk to come decades later, especially on “After Hours,” the album closer that wouldn’t feel out-of-place in the indie rock scene of the mid-00s, nearly straight out of the “Juno” soundtrack.

My ctrl+F search today to find albums I never wrote reviews for revealed two things - I neglected to write my “Rubber Soul” review twice (once when I first listened and once when I realized that during “Sgt. Pepper), and the Beatles must be the band I mention most in reviews of other bands. Re-listening to the Beatles today to finish those unfinished reviews, I took my own advice and listened to the unreviewed ones chronologically. Kind of too bad that “Rubber Soul” was the oldest of those, because it was apparently the one that is the biggest shift from what came before. In the midst of their prodigious output of the mid-60s, they launched into a more creative and artistic direction starting with “Rubber Soul.” I should’ve done “Help!” and “Rubber Soul” back-to-back. I’m not sure how much I would notice the shift? “Help!” is terrific, as is “Rubber Soul.” The latter does feel very cohesive, and doesn’t miss a beat from start to finish. As they continue down that road, things get a little weirder occasionally, but on “Rubber Soul” their psychedelic dabbling is more limited. Anyway, it’s a fantastic album that kicks off a really incomparable run by a band quite worthy of those dozens of mentions and comparisons.

Love is not a British band, but this album was far more popular across the pond than it was in the states, so it still fits into the 1001’s bias towards Brit rock. I’m not sure why it was better-received in the UK, but I can tell you why it wasn’t a hit here. Because it’s ok, but it’s not great. And because band leader Arthur Lee refused to tour to support it. Lee’s story and career is very interesting though. There’s also a reference to Love being overshadowed stateside by label mates the Doors. Well yeah, because they’re not as good as the Doors. And you’re not going to change that dynamic through band in-fighting and not touring. According to Wikipedia, “the album saw the group embrace a subtler folk-oriented sound and orchestration.” On some songs that’s evident, but there’s also some harder psychedelic rock and even a Latin-influenced track. It’s not bad in total, but it’s certainly not the Doors.

I’m not a jazz connoisseur, can’t generally differentiate between styles of jazz, and can’t really tell what I think the difference is between good jazz and great jazz. That said, John Coltrane is a legend, and seemingly for good reason. As it’s not my thing, I don’t think I’ll ever give a jazz album a 5, but this was as good as it gets I suppose.

Another 3-in-1 hip hop review, this time tracing the thread from N.W.A.’s “Straight Outta Compton” through Ice T’s “OG Original Gangster” to Dr. Dre’s “The Chronic.” There are a lot of albums that “changed” hip hop, and “Straight Outta Compton” may be peak among them. Peak for impact, not peak for quality. They may not have created gangsta rap, but N.W.A. took it mainstream with their platinum hit album, forcing America to come to terms with life in inner city minority neighborhoods like Compton and popularizing the use of the n-word in hip hop. Incredibly impactful, but musically it’s stuck in 80s hip hop without signs of evolving. That evolution wasn’t necessarily needed though - by far the best part of the album is when Dr. Dre emerges with “Express Yourself.” It’s old school, it’s not violent or profane, and it shows that style can work in a timeless way. As for the rest, Ice Cube’s rapping is pretty solid, whereas MC Ren makes no real impact and Easy E’s nasally rapping is the worst part of the album. On the other hand, Ice T is a better rapper than anyone in N.W.A. (except maybe Dr. Dre, who was mostly limited to small features outside of “Express Yourself”). Ice T is such an OG, he had to tell the rest of America what OG means. He didn’t create the term, any more than he created gangsta rap, but helped bring it to the masses. “OG Original Gangster” is at once a coda for the early days of hip hop and a declaration that gangsta rap would dominate the next decade. The production and musicality is much better than “Straight Outta Compton” (though in a style that was firmly on its way out), and T’s rapping also stood above other MCs. Ice T may be the OG, but as an OG, he’s older and wiser and better able to reflect on where they’ve been and where they’re going. While those who followed in his footsteps often succumbed to the gangsta life, Ice T emerged on the other side with a career in film and TV, and is today probably more known for his role on Law & Order SVU than for his rap music. After Ice T and N.W.A. opened the door, Dr. Dre left N.W.A. and began a solo and rapping career that would fully establish West Coast gangsta rap as -the- rap genre of the 90s. “The Chronic” presented a serious evolution in sound from “Straight Outta Compton” or “OG Original Gangsta.” The themes remained the same, but the edge got even harder and the early trappings and influences of hip hop faded away. My group member pretentious-ass wrote (4 years ago, when I was supposed to review this) that “The Chronic killed hip-hop.” And I think in a lot of ways he’s right. Something different emerged from it, but it was something far removed from Ice T, N.W.A., and everything before it. West Coast gangsta rap after “The Chronic” did seem to become all-consuming, sucking the oxygen away from alternative hip hop and any other style.

A prolific English band places their 9th and 13th albums on the list. I wonder how many artists on the list took nine albums to generate something worthy. But here comes XTC, with a British album from the mid-80s that doesn’t have synths! Potential? Not really. “Skylarking” is much more cohesive than “Apple Venus vol. 1,” but also more consistently annoying.

So many missed joke opportunities for this review, due to the album being a "yes" from me and not a "no." I know Yes, but only from their hit singles, of which there are fewer than I'd realized. "Owner of a Lonely Heart" in fact comes 12 years after this album, and after numerous lineup changes and even a dissolution and reforming. In between it seems was an excessive amount of prog rock and Eastern spiritual experimentation? But "The Yes Album" is, for the most part, what I like about prog rock. "I've Seen All Good People" is deserving of its place in their limited greatest hits. A couple tracks lost their way in their meanderings, but overall I enjoyed the album. I have to say "no" to "The Clap" though. In all its forms. But this particular form, that being a bluegrass instrumental, might be ok in another setting. However, it just doesn't fit here.

Is "Seventeen Seconds" the amount of vocals on this album? It was sparse. And I'm torn on how I feel about that. Because on the one hand, Robert Smith's vocals are what I like least about The Cure. But on the other hand, I liked the atmosphere and vibe created here. Those seem like parts of the same hand, so on the third hand, why in the world was I left wanting more Robert Smith?? I've never felt that way before. And I can't explain the paradox of liking the sparse ephemeral atmosphere of "Seventeen Seconds" and the simultaneous desire for more vocals. I'm at a loss.

Robert Wyatt has two albums on the list, more than 20 years apart, and third with Soft Machine before his solo career. And they all stink. But “Rock Bottom” most of all. I thought it was fitting that this seems to be rock bottom of his music career, but then I read that he recorded this after a fall that left him paraplegic and wheelchair-bound. So it may have been rock bottom in his life, but with apologies, it was also for his music. I don’t know why this was critically acclaimed, but it was awful and I did not need to hear this.

I love "Fever To Tell" so, so much. One of the most raw, unrestrained, manic debut albums, and yet it is most known for the passionate restraint of "Maps." That song is deserving of its legacy, but the rest of the album's frenetic energy is what made Yeah Yeah Yeahs undeniable. Karen O is one of those truly special lead singers that is so infectious and magnetic, and the way she lets loose puts Yeah Yeah Yeahs over the top. "Fever To Tell" is also special because Yeah Yeah Yeahs never quite repeated that unbridled explosion. "Show Your Bones" and "It's Blitz" are both also favorites of mine, but very different from this debut. And I think we still have "It's Blitz" yet to come on the list!

For possibly being the album that helped launch or break through rock and roll, there's a lot of slow and sappy country and western on "Elvis Presley." If only it all could have been as exciting as "Blue Suede Shoes." But instead, "I'm Counting on You" and "I Love You Because" are boring, "One-Sided Love Affair" and "Just Because" are a bit annoying, and Little Richard's "Tutti Frutti" is much better. Elvis is electric and dynamic and charismatic, but it's a bit unfortunate that it took this white pretty-boy to popularize a sound that was largely being created by black artists like Little Richard and others. That said, while this album does have an indelible place in rock and roll history, it has some tracks that really pull down the vibe and the score.

I want to like Badly Drawn Boy more than I actually do. He is a talented musician working in a singer-songwriter style that I enjoy, but I found "The Hour of Bewilderbeast" to be largely forgettable. After this Mercury Prize-winning debut and his "About a Boy" soundtrack, I think his visibility in America pretty much disappeared. Through it all, though, I think he kept the beanie on. I can't find any pictures of him without one. And if that speaks to one thing about Badly Drawn Boy, its consistency. Gotta give that to him at least.

The 13th Floor Elevators were truly on the leading edge of psychedelic rock, but those who followed and likely took inspiration from them just did it better. I would have been interested to hear Big Brother and the Holding Company perform these songs, with tighter instrumentation (even in the context of psychedelic rock's loose style) and Janis Joplin's vocals. As it was, I give them credit for pioneers of the sound but can't really recommend it or want to go back to it.

This was truly "Buffalo Springfield Again" for me, because I didn't see the "Again" at first and instead listened to "Buffalo Springfield," the band's debut album. That first eponymous album opened with "For What It's Worth," and for what it's worth I never knew the name of that song, and for what it's worth it's Buffalo Springfield's best song. But I had to sit through two albums of failing to reach those heights again. They almost get there near the end of "Again" with "Rock & Roll Woman." Everything in between isn't bad. There are some pretty decent songs. But nothing that really grabs you. There are also too many constant stylistic shifts due to the different band members taking writing and singing leads back-and-forth. Clearly a lot of talent involved; but it doesn't quite do it for me.

Two artistic Brits have been prime targets for cancel culture of late. Cancel culture has its excesses, without a doubt. But it also represents a noble trend in attempting to hold our celebrities and icons to account for their words and actions, and their place in perpetuating bigotry and privilege. "Harry Potter" author J.K. Rowling has been in the thick of it, due to her comments on trans issues. The International Quidditch Association has even changed the sport's name to Quadball in protest of the writer who created the magical game. (If you weren't aware, college students actually play a non-magical version of this game, with sticks-that-do-not-fly tucked between their legs.) Rowling's behavior has certainly changed my opinion of her as a person. However, it has only impacted my enjoyment of her literature slightly. Why is that? Eric Clapton, on the other hand, has perhaps been a racist and a bigot for a long time, but it is his recent anti-vaccine stance that has led to everyone dredging up all his cancellable ills. He is one of the greatest blues guitarists of all time, but in 2022 how much does that matter? It's pretty rich that the guy who once told a concert audience that he wanted to "stop Britain from becoming a black colony" has now said that he would "not perform on any stage where there is a discriminated audience present," in response to Boris Johnson requiring vaccination for concerts. Maybe he's grown and would no longer say "I used to be into dope, now I'm into racism." But he's still a dumb@$$. Anyway, I can more easily separate authors from their art than musicians. I'm not sure why? Something about the level of immersion when reading? The fact that Clapton and other artists have written songs that express their idiocy (not on this album)? Its something I have considered for a long time, as Orson Scott Card has been my favorite author for a long time, despite his personal political beliefs. And it seems I'm no closer to an answer.

I kept counting down, but ecstasy never arrived.

When I think of Joy Division, the lyric and music that pop into my head is "Let's Dance to Joy Division," by the Wombats, not by Joy Division. That's because before today, I couldn't name a Joy Division song. I had a vague idea of what I thought they sounded like, but that's about it. So I entered into "Closer" hoping to dance to Joy Division. But alas, I don't know how one dances to Joy Division. It's harsh and sharp and dark and... not what I want to dance to. Any moment where I started to get into it (the intro to "Twenty Four Hours" is rad), I get taken right back out by Ian Curtis' vocals. Joy Division was apparently very influential, and I can hear in their music how they impacted not just the 80s, but also 21st century post-punk. But I can't dance to Joy Division, and in fact just want to turn it off when Curtis starts singing (though I empathize with his tragic story).

How heavy does metal have to be to be heavy metal? There are much heavier metals than steel, though it remains undetermined whether British steel is heavier than other steel. Now an album called "British Tungsten," that would probably shred. But this is "British Steel" - not a particularly heavy metal in the greater scheme of things. Judas Priest may have a reputation as helping to build the foundation of heavy metal, but it only makes scant appearances on "British Steel." The first four tracks were heavy. But not all that good. There was a definite shift though, starting with the corny arena-rock anthem "United." "You Don't Have to Be Old to Be Wise" and "Living After Midnight" are also more of a blend of 70s arena rock and 80s hair metal. The album ends with "Red, White, & Blue," which might not have been on the original release? Who knew these lads wielding their British somewhat heavy metal were such American patriots? What's that you say? There are 43 countries with red, white, and blue in their flag? Ok, I stand corrected. Still kind of odd for some semi-heavy metal chaps to wax poetic in a goofy anthem about a flag. Anyway, that's all for this edition of "Fun With Flags." While Judas Priest may have failed to deliver sufficiently heavy metal during this sellout period of their career, at least they reminded me of this gem that I hadn't thought of in a while... https://c.tenor.com/FxcYgqxzmgMAAAAC/beavis-and-butthead-head-bang.gif

I'm glad I gave "Loveless" a second listen. The first time through, I was overwhelmed by the weakly orchestral whale murder on "Touched" and the subsequent instrument malfunction and moaning of "To Here Knows When." Those tracks stuck with me, and it wasn't until the album was almost finished that I realized I enjoyed the second half more than I'd thought. The second listen solidified what I had realized by the end of the first go-round - "Loveless" (and mbv) aren't quite it for me, but I can respect their experimentation and path-forging efforts. This album is apparently the defining release of the shoegaze subgenre, though shoegaze seems very small and niche, whereas mbv seems equally influential in alternative and indie rock in the 90s and even 2000s. I thought shoegaze was named for the generally mopey and muffled vibe of the songs, but I've learned that it was that the guitar sound was so driven by pedal effects that the musicians spent much of their time staring at the pedals, and thus, their shoes. But while "Loveless" surely inspired much shoegaze that I've never heard, and Wikipedia claims that shoegaze was pushed aside by grunge and Britpop, a lot of grunge adjacent alternative rock in the 90s feels a lot like my bloody valentine. (As an aside, my instinct to proofread is very annoyed by the lack of capital letters in my bloody valentine.) The band that came to mind most while listening to "Loveless" was not a shoegaze band, but rather Smashing Pumpkins. After the album finished, Amazon Music's attempt to create a like-minded radio station was also heavy in 90s alternative and grunge.

Why did Charlie have three angels? Why not four, or even five? Is three the magic number, both in girl-powered detective agencies with mysterious benefactors as well as in R&B girl groups? Maybe more than three leads to instability or competition or something? But with every iteration of Charlie's Angels and most girl group trios, it seems they eventually go their separate ways and one member goes on to more success than the other two. Hopefully they always remember the role their two former partners had in their future success. With "Survivor" that even extends to Beyonce re-using "Dangerously in Love" in her solo career. Destiny's Child may have launched Beyonce into mega-stardom, but "Survivor" is a fairly unexceptional album. "Independent Women Part I" and "Survivor" get things off to a strong start, but the body positivity of "Bootylicious" is squandered by the super-judgey "Nasty Girl." So the messaging is a bit all over the place, but that's probably to be expected with over 20 credited songwriters. Alas, music made by committee is probably always going to be simultaneously formulaic and all-over-the-place. And when the committee churns out duds like "Apple Pie la Mode" and "Sexy Daddy," you imagine that Beyonce must be pretty glad she escaped the machine and got big enough to do what she wants, not what the Charlie-like voice on the other side of the speaker is telling her to.

First, I would like to thank jkavlock for the opportunity to write this guest review. I've been a huge fan of Rage Against The Machine for a long time. They've been an incredibly important band in the formation of my worldview, and even inspired my career. Musically, RATM gets me pumped. I love to lift and work out, and nothing gets me psyched for a good burn like RATM. I turn on Rage, turn it up loud, grab the barbell, and the sweat starts trickling down like tax cuts for the rich. It's thanks to RATM that every time the sun's out, my guns are out. You know what they say - "curls get the girls." Lyrically, RATM helps me understand the world we live in. They sing about all the things I love - Manifest Destiny, landlords, burning things, corporations, the system, and a nice game of bridge ("For all the diamonds/They'll use a pair of clubs to beat the spades"). They give proper respect to the thin blue line ("Those who died are justified, for wearing the badge") and the stars and stripes ("Ya bowin' down to the flag"). RATM told us to rest assured that "Departments of police, the judges, the feds/Networks at work, keepin' people calm." They helped me understand that if I did what those in positions of power and authority told me to, I could control myself - "And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control." And they described how the education system works best - "The complacent students sit and listen." RATM also recognized conformity, assimilation, and submission as important parts of the American Dream. When Obama was elected president, I knew we had to "take the power back!" and I listened to that track on repeat leading up to the 2010 midterms. I do have to admit - sometimes I just get so pumped listening to Rage and curling big dumbbells that I lose track of the lyrics. But I get the message. These guys SPEAK to me! Rage guitarist Tom Morello even wrote an article about me. He called me "the embodiment of the machine," and that recognition is one of the proudest moments of my career. I wouldn't be who I am today if not for the influence of Rage Against The Machine and Tom Morello. Your Truly, Paul Ryan Former Speaker of the House Former Republican Nominee for Vice President Former Spokesperson for P90X Former and Current Advocate for Privatizing and Ruining Medicare and Social Security President of the Misunderstood Lyrics and Messages Club

I never knew the name of "Enjoy the Silence," or knew to connect it to Depeche Mode. This is probably a line I keep repeating about 80's synth-pop and new wave. But I continue to learn that there are some songs from that era that I really enjoy, and many others that don't work the same for me. The first four minutes of "Enjoy the Silence" are terrific. Then they nearly blow it by stopping the song to ask me to "enjoy the silence" and then not actually deliver silence. It should have just flowed into "Policy of Truth," which is the album's second best song. "Personal Jesus" was a hit, but it's just ok. Beyond those three tracks, the rest is all downhill. "Sweetest Perfection" is groan-worthy, and "Blue Dress" ruins the momentum of "Enjoy the Silence" and "Policy of Truth" before the last three tracks eventually wander off into tangentially related electronica.

I missed this one 300+ albums ago. I was reminded of it by “Don’t Stand Me Down.” Luckily, “Searching For The Young Soul Rebels” is much more tolerable than “Don’t Stand Me Down.” But the latter was intolerable, so that’s not necessarily saying much. How did Dexys Midnight Runners place three albums on the strength of “Come On Eileen” alone?? That song is on neither of the albums we’ve listened to so far. And I have no idea if the rest of “Too-Rye-Ay” will be as good. “Searching For The Young Soul Rebels” is a very horny album. Sometimes the horns are exciting and peppy, but sometimes they are just annoying. Kevin Rowland’s vocals were also not a highlight, though anything is better than “Don’t Stand Me Down.” “Seven Days Too Long” was a standout, and felt familiar, even though “Geno” was apparently the “hit.” The falsetto on "Thankfully Not Living in Yorkshire It Doesn't Apply" was terrible. By far the low point. But overall this album was… well, much better than “Don’t Stand Me Down.” Listening to it immediately following that stinker may have impacted my tolerance of this one?

Knowing nothing about The Sonics, I was immediately excited by "The Witch" and eager for what would follow. Unfortunately, what followed were two covers of classic but much less inspiring early rock'n'roll. The Sonics' original work is incredibly revealing, unveiling connections between blues, rock, and punk that are always apparent but never as explicit as on "Here Are the Sonics." The covers are a bit hit or miss, with the early appearances of "Do You Love Me" and "Roll Over Beethoven" probably hurt most by the fact that they weren't "The Witch." Later in the album, it dawned on me that I couldn't recall another singer as influenced by Little Richard, with Gerry Roslie channeling the icon and originator with shouts and hollers and yelps. And maybe a little too influenced? Nevertheless, I actually thought The Sonics somehow improved on "Good Golly, Miss Molly." But again, it's their original tracks that really stand out. "Psycho" and "Strychnine" are revelations. I'll definitely check out their follow-up, "Boom," to see if they can recapture the magic. Unfortunately, it sounds like it ends there, with the next album heading in a different direction before the original lineup broke up. But they had a pretty amazingly outsized influence on the future of multiple rock genres despite having less than 10 original songs.

There are a lot of instruments that work with Nick Drake's sound. Melodic and minimalist guitars are great. Piano works wonderfully. Violin too. But not horns! The horns ruined multiple songs on this album. Listening to the first three songs, I was trying to figure out why this didn't sound like the Nick Drake I was familiar with. Something was off... Then came "One of These Things First," a sublime song and the Drake song I know best. So what did it have that the others didn't? Nothing! It's what it didn't have - horns. Get rid of the horns and the two flute-strumentals, and you've got 5-star work.

The rest of "Disraeli Gears" unfortunately stands squarely in the shadow of "Sunshine of Your Love." That song is so epic and iconic that living up to it would be hard, but nothing else here really comes close. It's also the song where Jack Bruce's voice sounds best, and avoids overdoing the higher register. "SWLABR" is the next best song with Bruce's vocals, and it's decent enough but they must have been on some stuff when they wrote that. The Clapton-led "Strange Brew" and "Outside Woman Blues" are good, and more of his blues influence might have improved the album (Cream was apparently moving away from blues and towards more psychedelia.) And that's about all that's worthwhile. Ginger Baker may be a terrific drummer, but he should've stayed away from songwriting and singing - "Blue Condition" was awful. And the less said about the closing "Mother's Lament" the better.

I don't like Morrissey's voice. So kudos to "Your Arsenal" for getting at least a few songs in before the vocals started to grate on me. Maybe it's not his voice itself, but how he uses it, often in a whine that exaggerates his accent (like when he pronounces last "laaahssst"). Some songs had pretty good guitar that I enjoyed until the vocals and lyrics got in the way. Don't remember which ones... it was a week ago. Maybe I should stop listening to 80% an album and then forgetting to finish and review it.

I am coming to realize that R.E.M. might be the most consistent band of the 1980s? Going back a few hundred albums to review “Document” after listening to “Murmur,” I’m now excited to dig into “Green” and “Automatic For The People” when they arrive. The hits here, deservedly so, are “It’s the End of the World and We Know It” and “One I Love,” but under the radar it’s the opener and closer that not just bookend but carry this album. “Finest Workhorse” and “Oddfellows Local 151” are less heralded but set the tone for an album without a weak spot.

In 1995, no one would have guessed that Dave Grohl had this in him. But his essentially solo debut with "Foo Fighters" began a journey that would that would quickly step out of Nirvana's shadow. "This is a Call" and "I'll Stick Around" pack an incredible one-two punch to open the album, and Grohl never lets off the gas. After recording it himself, Grohl would fill out the Foo Fighters with old friends and future legends (RIP Taylor Hawkins). And I do think this is the right call for Foo on the list. "Colour and Shape" may have some mega hits in "My Hero" and "Everlong," but it also marked a slight shift to an epic arena rock style that they too rarely deviated from (notable exception for the second acoustic disc of "In Your Honour"). With the appreciation Grohl clearly has for the history and diversity of music (see his HBO docuseries "Sonic Highways"), it's too bad that more variety doesn't bleed into his music.

The story of Rick Allen losing his arm and continuing to be a drum legend is the main thing I knew about Def Leppard before listening to this album. (That, and that they must be lousy spellers. Though, as it turns out, not as bad at spelling as an increasing number of modern bands I've encountered recently and had to really roll my eyes at the hip, edgy, alternative spelling of things.) Anyway, UK and Irish country roads are terrifying, and I don't know why anyone would drive their Corvette really fast on those nightmares. Glad Allen survived and adapted though. But like many other hair metal bands, I couldn't have told you which band sang which song. Maybe if pressed I could have correctly guessed "Photograph." That song, along with the other singles ("Rock of Ages," "Foolin'," and "Too Late for Love") really carry the album. That's a pretty high percentage of stellar hard rock songs from that era/style. In the end though, that era/style isn't my favorite. I enjoy the hits, but it isn't really something I seek out and come back to. Pretty much that whole genre is the definition of 3-star music for me.

I think Arcade Fire's "Funeral" is one of the best debut albums of the 2000s. And of course, it is notoriously hard for bands to deliver lauded follow-ups to much-buzzed-about debuts. Arcade Fire came close to dispelling the curse of the sophomore slump with "Neon Bible." In fact, in terms of sales and acclaim, there was no dip. But "Funeral" was almost impossible to follow. "Neon Bible" still has an amazing start with "Black Mirror" and "Keep the Car Running," and "No Cars Go" is also terrific, but nothing in between really stands out in the way that "Funeral" was consistently terrific throughout. Their third album, "The Suburbs," solidified Arcade Fire as one of the best of their era. Like "Neon Bible" and to some extent "Funeral," "The Suburbs" is not quite a concept album - maybe a thematic album? I'm not sure I know of any band that built three straight albums around interesting conceptual themes the way Arcade Fire did. I don't really know how to describe Arcade Fire's music or what I like about it so much. It's evocative? Lyrically beautiful? Passionate and intense without being loud and brash? They weave together many different instruments without anything ever seeming out of place. They use a secondary lead singer with a very different voice and style sparingly and almost always in ways and places that fit the progression of the album. They seem to deeply mean and feel their music. Does any of this make sense? As a full album, I think I've listened to "Funeral" and "The Suburbs" more than any other album released this century? "Reflektor" (#4) and "Everything Now" (#5) didn't quite hit the same for me, and I've only listened to the whole thing a couple times each. But maybe I should give them another chance as I listen to "Funeral" and "The Suburbs" and recall how wonderful they are? Their newest, "WE," I have not listened to in full yet. From what I've heard, it may be more uneven, with highs ("Unconditional (Lookout Kid)" is fantastic) and lows ("Age of Anxiety II (Rabbit Hole)" is kind of insufferable). Has Arcade Fire's output faded over time? Is it impossible to maintain the kind of consistency they had early in their career? Regardless, with three standout albums and great songs sprinkled through three more, they earned a place as one of the best bands of the 21st century.

There has never been another Led Zeppelin. I mean, obviously. Anyone trying to name their new band Led Zeppelin would be faced with copyright issues. And be laughed at. Though there have been two bands with the same name before. Apparently there was a British psychedelic group in the 60s named Nirvana. But words can't really explain how distinctive and unrepeatable Led Zeppelin were. They are the best rock band in history (you could disagree or dispute this, but you'd be wrong), and even on "Physical Graffiti," one of their lesser albums, they are beyond 5 stars.

I wouldn't say I have a love/hate relationship with Neil Young's music. I guess it's more of a like/dislike relationship relationship. Doesn't really send me to emotional highs or lows. Because I like a lot of Young's work. Just sticking with the solo work, and ignoring all of the group drama that preceded it, Young has been very influential, written some terrific songs, and built an amazingly solid career around a distinctly worse-than-average voice. Despite Young's deserved accolades of songwriting, I didn't quite know what to make of some of these. A dune buggy revolution? Vampires? Radio interviews?

I listened to "More Songs About Buildings And Food" back-to-back with "Fear Of Music," which we received nearly 350 albums later. I'm kind of shocked how much I enjoyed them? In spite of David Byrne's vocals? I say in spite, because they're too weird right? Or is the oddness of the vocals fitting with the rest of the off-kilter presentation? I had surmised that the Talking Heads were too avante garde for me. Too artsy. Too weird for weirdness sake. But I actually found myself pleasantly surprised. I thought I would find their hits to be their most palatable songs, but on "More Songs About Buildings And Food" "Take Me To The River" was actually my least favorite song. It didn't fit the brashness of the rest of the album. Byrne's vocals work some of the time, but most of the time they just don't get too in the way of some interesting experimentation that manages to walk the tightrope of tolerable and sometimes exciting strangeness. Nearly a 4. I put this one slightly above "Fear of Music."

I first heard Sebadoh through "On Fire," probably around 2005. At the time, I didn't know that the song was nearly 10 years old. At the time, I didn't seek out more Sebadoh. But I don't know why. Because "On Fire" is an outstanding song. But I never would have guessed that they had been around since 1986. I never knew about their connection to Dinosaur Jr. or their place in the late 80s lo-fi scene. I also never would have expected them to make the 1001 list, and I never would have expected said album to be so disappointing. Nothing on "Bubble and Scrape" rises to the heights of "On Fire." After two solid songs to start the album, "Telecosmic Alchemy" was excessively dissonant and obnoxious. Was that the point? If it wasn't the point, the point was lost on me. If it was the point, the point was lost on me. The alchemical disaster that was tracks 3 and 4 luckily didn't last, and they got back to some fuzzed out excellence. But the album continued to be way too uneven. Did they just record everything they came up with? And always go with the first take? Maybe that raw DIY sound is a hallmark of lo-fi, but there was just too much mess on "Bubble and Scrape" for me. After I finished the album, and went back for second tries on a few parts, I sought out "On Fire," and it was every bit as good as I remembered. And this album's follow-ups "Bakesale" and "Harmacy" are both pretty terrific. I think they still maintain their core sound, but it's cleaner and more polished and feels like there was someone there helping edit their include-everything impulses. They both still have a crazy number of tracks and include some short weirder ones, but they're not as jarring as on "Bubble and Scrape." Apparently "B & S" started a shift for Sebadoh away from their original acoustic, home-recorded sound. Maybe they were just figuring out a new style. What came later was much better. I'll have to check out their early acoustic work. But I won't be coming back to "Bubble and Scrape."

Just looked back to see that "Psychocandy" was 38 minutes long. Only 38 minutes!? That seemed to drone on and on forever! We last listened to The Jesus and Mary Chain 346 albums ago, and I remarked then that nothing stood out on "Darklands." And the same is so true here. There are no real standout tracks for me. One or two memorable or attention-grabbing songs could possibly elevate this, but instead I just kept dwelling on the fact that the excessive distortion and feedback just went on and on. On "In My Hole," they lamented that there was "something dead inside my hole." First of all, clean out your hole. And second of all, maybe stop recording all your music inside a hole filled with dead things. Maybe you'll get a better sound.

Just an incredible collection of hit songs. "Ramble Tamble" was just ok, and "Ooby Dooby" was kind of corny and weird, but everything else is top notch. I can't even complain about "I Heard it Through the Grapevine," because even though these white guys from California were far removed from Motown (or the swamp), it's a terrific version of the song.

I was really, really pleasantly surprised by how much I liked this. "Our Lips Are Sealed" and "We Got The Beat" have been beaten to death, but fortunately and shockingly they were my least favorite songs on "Beauty and the Beat." The drums and bass really drove most of the songs, in spite of the bubbly and jangly guitars, so maybe they really do have the beat. A little bit more intensity and this would be an excellent album. It's just a tad bit too bouncy and cheerful to reach its full sound potential. But I still really enjoyed it. A couple months ago I came across the term bubblegrunge, at the time being used to refer to (as it was described on r/indiehead) "indie rock bands bringing out modern takes on power pop and pop punk... that tend to mix massive pop melodies with big energy and crunchy and/or fuzzy guitars, with the attitude and angst but rarely outright depressing lyrical content that makes up a lot of the two aforementioned genres." Beach Bunny, The Beths, Charly Bliss, and PUP were used as examples. This album kind of made me think of bubblegrunge, though, and it came with a realization that The Go-Go's likely inspired a lot of bands I like more than I realized. They don't get crunchy or fuzzy enough, and get the attitude part but not much angst. But I think they are still a bit of an inspiration for evolving sounds. According to Spotify, however, bubblegrunge isn't new. "In the mid-1990s, rock critics labeled a type of music 'bubblegrunge' because it was a poppier ("bubblegum") version of grunge, which had dominated the alternative music scene in the early 1990s. Bands like Collective Soul, Bush, Third Eye Blind, and Matchbox Twenty were all part of this genre." Ok, that makes the name fit more than the new stuff I mentioned earlier, but Bush is not that poppy, and Third Eye Blind and Matchbox Twenty kind of suck. You know what, they probably don't suck. As a 90s grunge kid, I looked down on them, but their hits were actually guilty pleasures, and only guilty in some misguided attempt to be a hard rock/grunge purist. But regardless, they are very different bands than modern bubblegrunge. Oh right, The Go-Go's. Not quite bubblegrunge (and not least because it preceded grunge), but certainly instrumental in driving punk in poppier directions. A very pleasant surprise that I will definitely revisit.

I really can't decide how I feel about LCD Soundsystem. None of their stuff has ever really grabbed me before. And that's mostly how I felt listening to "Sound of Silver." I also think that a lot of these songs are too repetitive and go on to long, needing the beat to break when it instead goes on and on. The first track, was like this, and it did nothing for me. The acclaimed "All My Friends" is also guilty - that track could be great if the main synth part wasn't quite so sharp, or quite so insistent, or just didn't go on non-stop for over 7 minutes. On second listen, a few tracks got me tapping my foot, and I warmed up to it a bit. But even those better tracks sometimes wore out their welcome by going too long or being too repetitive. I think I liked "Watch The Tapes" best, in part because it avoids those pitfalls. Some of this is very electronica, and some of it is more akin to the dance rock that has been popular in the 00s and 10s (which was probably in large part inspired by acts like LCD Soundsystem). I enjoyed those parts of "Sound of Silver" more, but I also feel like the modern bands that followed them have done it better.

Captain Beefheart as a stage name is certainly a bold choice. And it's bold music. It's just not good music. The bluesy bits were decent, but the rest was mostly off-putting. Milk is not always safe. It can spoil. Make sure you check the date, and give it the ol' sniff test. Beefy failed the test.

The “everybody must get stoned” song is called “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35!?” It’s probably my favorite Bob Dylan song, and I apparently would have had a bit of trouble finding it on my own. Who are these women? Are they the ones doing the stoning? And what about Rainy Day Women #1-11 and 13-34? What do they have to say about all this rock throwing? Sometimes I like the way Dylan uses his voice. And sometimes I can’t stand it. He’s a great songwriter, both lyrically and musically, but the vocals are sometimes a parody of themselves. Weird to make a serious career out of a voice gimmick that tries to sound like a drunk karaoke singer.

It seems I gave "Nebraska" a 3-star review 340 albums ago, though the impression I took away from it was that it was too slow and sad and depressing. I was hoping that "Born To Run" would be more energetic, more of the vibrant Bruce I've heard bounces around the stage even into his 70s. On that note, I got what I wanted. It is definitely more energetic and vibrant. And yet I still didn't enjoy it much more than "Nebraska." The title track is absolutely the stand out, but it stands too far above the rest. Nothing quite captures what "Born To Run" does. A 5-star song squandered on an album that doesn't do much else for me.

Apparently I never put in my review of "Rubber Soul" 50 albums ago. I'll have to revisit that one, but one thing I remembered standing out was its fallibility. Ok, maybe fallibility is too strong a word. But I came away from "Rubber Soul" realizing that some Beatles' songs are just quite good. As in, they aren't all the transcendent epitome of rock n roll. "Sgt. Pepper" is transcendent though, from start to finish. The Beatles (like Led Zeppelin), may have many imitators and have influenced untold numbers, but I'm not sure anyone since or yet to come will ever quite reach their level. They break all charts, scales, and molds.

I don’t know why I really don’t like Everything But The Girl. It’s adjacent to stuff I like. With “Walking Wounded” they moved to a more electronic sound, incorporating elements of deep house, trip-hop, and drum and bass. Things I like many elements of. But they’re really none of those things. They’re “sophisti-pop.” An evolution of their earlier “jazzy folk-pop” sound. And somehow they’re still jazzy while being so electronic. I think that’s the problem. Tracey Thorn has a great rich voice. But it’s a loungy jazzy voice, not the one I want used in this way in trip-hop or drum and bass. “Good Cop, Bad Cop” gets closest for me, with a nice bit of a drum and bass going on, but it doesn’t hit hard enough or build to something. The breaks are consistently let downs. I want to like Everything But The Girl (well, I want to like that girl, too), but it just doesn’t click for me.

This This album album was was special special. Because Because somehow somehow, each each individual individual song song practically practically begged begged me me to to turn turn it it off off. In In trying trying to to define define the the level level and and meaning meaning of of the the five five star star scale scale, I've I've determined determined that that two two stars stars is is a a channel channel changer changer. I I actively actively disliked disliked every every song song on on "Infected" "Infected." But But the the hatred hatred didn't didn't quite quite reach reach one one star star level level. Also, how do you say The The? Thuh Thuh? Thee Thuh? Thee Thee? Thuh Thee?

I have a hard time explaining why "Double Nickels On The Dime" works. But it does work. Despite being 45 tracks long. Despite some serious genre-bending. Despite sounding like a lot of studio takes that should have been left on the cutting room floor. And even a live track randomly in the middle? It might be raw and unpolished, but it works. It might be two distinct songwriting voices, but it feels like one band. It all somehow fits in a cohesive vibe.

This was so slow an excruciating. "The Bottle" was decent, almost the only saving grace, until "H20Gate." If the whole album had been intense, passionate, and intelligent spoken word poetry with a jazzy/bluesy backing, "Winter in America" would have been so much more interesting. Then again, anything is more interesting than most of this album.

Thank you, album generator, for forcing me to finally fix a gaping hole in my musical education. I've been meaning to check out Bad Brains for ages, especially since I moved to the DC area 14 years ago, but somehow have never to my knowledge heard a single song. And either I waited way too long to check out something so terrific, or the wait helped me to appreciate it all the more. "I Against I" is their third album, and apparently marked a bit of a shift and evolving of their sound, away from their hardcore punk roots. In trying to digest this album, and figure out what I think of Bad Brains, I listened to it 3+ times. (The second because a raucous carpool of 6th graders made the first hard to hear, and the third and other snippets because I increasingly realized that I loved it and wanted more.) At first I wasn't sure what to think of H.R.'s vocals. They were all over the place. And while there were some times where it seemed like he needed to reign it in a bit or stick to one style, the more I listened the more I realized there were multiple voices(?) I liked and most made up for the bits I didn't like. The guitars and the drums, though, I loved from the start. I was initially surprised, as I was expecting more of a punk sound from what I knew of the band. So the heavy metal and other influences took me on a ride that kept me on my toes. It certainly wasn't all perfect, but it grew and grew on me. I checked out their self-titled debut, and there was the hardcore punk I had been expecting. I liked it, but not as much as "I Against I." I waffled back and forth between 4 and 5 stars for quite a while. When it comes down to it, I think its a 4-star album. But a combination of the pleasant surprise, the missing piece, the breadth of influence, the passion and the joy, and finally, the comparison to other new-to-me 4s finally sealed the deal.

It was ok, I guess. Nothing really stood out or was particularly memorable.

Very enjoyable. I never knew what was coming next, but "The ArchAndroid" excelled in every genre it touched.

There’s a lot of interesting stuff that Tom Waits does musically. A lot of diverse and classic American music influences inform his work. Interesting doesn’t necessarily make for something I want to listen to a whole album of. And then throw Waits’ incredibly exaggerated growl on top of it, and you lose me fast. I’d love to pay more attention to the styles he incorporates, but I can’t. He softens things up sometimes, but not nearly enough.

Proto-punk is a spot-on genre description for New York Dolls. There is still enough pop, rock, and blues to be recognizable and not too revolutionary for the time, but the parts that inspired the evolution of punk music are clear and insistent.

I thought I would like having more songs in the vein of "Tutti Frutti," but a lot of "Here's Little Richard" blended together and didn't particularly stand out.

I enjoyed Incubus when they first broke through with "Pardon Me" in 1999. As they followed that single with "Drive" and "Stellar," it was a refreshing light in a dark time. Yes, it was a dark time. The heydey of grunge was fading and Total Request Live was reshaping the music industry, resulting in a late 90s/early 00s hard rock landscape that was filled with Limp Bizkits and Kid Rocks. You think Incubus was angsty?? Incubus was mellow and tame for the times. For additional reference as to why Incubus stood far above their contemporaries, putting interesting spins on early 90s hard rock rather than learning all the wrong lessons like Limp Bizkit, Korn, and Creed did, look no further than the events of Woodstock '99 or the 2001 PBS Frontline documentary "Merchants of Cool." But does Incubus hold up today? For me, absolutely. While I prefer their calmer, more musically adept songs like those "Make Yourself" singles, their loud, crunchy, angrier stuff is great too. Brandon Boyd has a terrific range and is one of my favorite rock singers of the past 30 years, whether screaming or singing. Their post-fame follow-up to "Make Yourself," "Morning View," is even better, more mature, less screamy, less overdone crunchy guitars. They really refined their unique take on DJ-accented hard rock (and in a way that for me works far better than their rap-rock contemporaries). While "Morning View" is an easy 5, and "Make Yourself" takes longer to find its footing and then majorly stumbles with the misplaced "Battlestar Scratchalactica," we'll give this one a 5 too, on account of 3 great singles, a string of really good albums of which only this one made the 1001, improving the group's review average, and for being the anti-Limp Bizkit.

Things did not start out great with "Pretty Green." I initially thought it was the lamest song about weed I'd ever heard, then I actually listened closely to realize it was one of the lamest songs about money I've ever heard. However, by the time it got to track 3 things started picking up, and by the end I was enjoying it.

Listening to "School's Out" while driving to teach high school at 7:15 on a September morning was probably a mistake. I felt taunted by the album generator. But then I was curious as to how Cooper would follow up on that classic track. Weirdly, it turns out. Particularly when "West Side Story" suddenly interjects itself. I don't think I get Alice Cooper. Don't judge a book by it's cover? Who knew that under that cover was a hard rocker with a passion for Sondheim and jazz. "Blue Turk" was interesting, maybe even enjoyable, but most of this album just left me scratching my head.

Van Morrison was once an amazing songwriter, penning iconic and timeless songs that may not seem to be my flavor at first but just work. He was once iconic and timeless. Now he's just an old curmudgeonly buffoon and anti-Semite who doesn't believe in science.

There is some really cool atmospheric music on Air's "Virgin Suicides" soundtrack. But its too much. And it lacks context. In the film, these tracks are backing to scenes that benefit from that musical vibe. And, I'm assuming, the tracks are not played in their entirety as they are on this album. If you really love the music, then I guess you might enjoy hearing the full songs. But I was just left feeling like I was only getting part of the experience, missing the piece that was the images on screen. The 1001 features other soundtracks, but sticking with soundtracks by a single artist and avoiding compilations. But Air's contribution is more of an original score, whereas those other soundtracks are not. If we are including movie scores on the list, why is this the only one?

I'm not a Swiftie. And the obsession of Swifties can be a bit much at times. But I do have to hand it to Taylor Swift - her knack for reinvention has kept her remarkably fresh throughout her career, and has led her to her best period with the folk pop of "folklore" and "evermore."

The shocking and attention-grabbing "Closer" video certainly was a memorable part of my early teens musical taste expansion, but I was never quite sucked into becoming a Nine Inch Nails fan. I just wasn't ready for that much abrasive industrial chaos. And I'm still not. I think Trent Reznor is a creative, impressive, and fascinating musician, but most of NiN isn't for me. "Closer" is amazing though. And Reznor's film and TV scores are great. It looks like "The Downward Spiral" is the only NiN on the list, which is interesting, as I think "Pretty Hate Machine" is probably at least as good and is more impressively influential coming out in 1989.

Lynyrd Skynyrd went to Robert E. Lee High School and Nathan B. Forrest High School in Jacksonville. They didn’t change the name of Forrest until 2014, and didn’t change Lee until 2021. While we could take issue with the Confederate flag-waving, heritage-touting nature of Skynyrd and their fandom, they are very much a product of their upbringing. However, they resisted other conservative traditions of their youth - continuing to wear their hair long despite it being culturally unacceptable. But this just introduces more contradictions and confusion. Willing to reject some norms, but not able to see that your schools are named after racists and traitors, or that your heritage is built around hate? Neil Young saw the 70s South for what it was, and I've gotta side with his "Alabama" over the Skynyrd response of "Sweet Home Alabama" (not on this album). But contradictions and complications aside, they were fantastic musicians. “Simple Man” is, simply, amazing. “Free Bird” is legendary, and I wouldn’t mind if that guitar solo went on forever. And “Tuesday’s Gone” and “Three Steps” are worthy hits as well. The stretch of “Things Goin’ On” through “Poison Whiskey” doesn’t reach the same mark, which ultimately holds the album back. In the end, it’s good that they told everyone how to pronounce their band’s name with this album title. If they were called Lie-nard Sky-nerd, they never would have been as popular. If you didn’t use a bunch of out-of-place y’s to spell your band’s gym teacher homage name, maybe people wouldn’t have trouble knowing how to pronounce it?

Ready for an exciting night at the club, I got out of bed, ran my toes through my shag carpet, and picked out a slammin' outfit. My yellow bell bottoms had me already shaking my leg and tappin' my feet. I paired it with a bright orange puffy pirate shirt, undid the top three buttons, and combed some mousse into my glorious chest hair. Before heading out to the dance floor, I picked up my lady and then there was one last stop at Big Jim's to score an 8-ball and do some lines in the bathroom. Then, all jazzed up, we hit the club. We were excited - Chic would be playing live, and we couldn't wait to dance to "Le Freak." When Chic came on, the place went wild. They opened with "Savoir Faire," and it was a little slow, so we sat down on a lush velvet sofa. They followed it up with "At Last I Am Free," and by the end of the song we were fast asleep. Who knew you could go from so high to so low!? I thought disco and funk were supposed to be more exciting than this. I woke up a couple hours later as the lights were coming on and the floor was being swept. Apparently we missed "Le Freak." Now I'm freaking out, because I missed the new dance craze! This is like that time I tried to go see Marcia Griffiths and Bunny Wailer, and I had the runs and never got to boogie woogie woogie. Serves me right for giving another one-hit wonder a chance.

Some enjoyable bluegrass, some less enjoyable bluegrass (too slow), and some even less enjoyable country. Gillian is a great songwriter, and I like her voice, but most of this didn't do it for me. Enjoyed the title track though.

When I first saw the cover of this album I wondered why the Muddy Waters album had a picture of Mahershala Ali on it. Was this the soundtrack to a Muddy Waters biopic? Apparently not, but I'm also not the first person online to see the resemblance and fancast Ali to play Waters. This is a good blues album.

"The Headmaster Ritual" isn't too bad... maybe this one will turn around my opinion on The Smiths. Oh, no wait, there it is. "Rusholme Ruffians" undid it all. I just don't like Morrissey. Sorry. Was just about to write about how I enjoy a lot of Johnny Marr's guitar work, and then that thought felt familiar, and sure enough that's what I wrote about "Strangeways, Here We Come." Three Smiths albums in. Are we done yet?

I struggle to describe how I feel about Belle & Sebastian. Some of it works for me, and some of it doesn't, and it's kind of hard to explain why. The title track on "If You're Feeling Sinister" is darling and lovely. A few other songs on here, and most of their top hits from other albums, hit that same vibe. I think it's something about being jaunty and jangly? I can't bring myself to go back through the whole album right now for a deeper analysis of the songs I didn't care for, but I do remember thinking on some of them that I sometimes dislike Stuart Murdoch's voice even more than Morrissey's (The Smiths was the day before). But how is that possible from the same guy I enjoy on "Another Sunny Day" and "The Boy With the Arab Strap?"

I'm never going to go back and listen to the 41 songs from this album that I didn't get to a week ago, let's be honest. So I'll make an exception and review an album I didn't listen to all of. Because trust me, I'm confident I heard enough in the 20-something tracks I heard to judge this album. And what I heard I didn't care for. I don't care for the ridiculous and juvenile number of songs or album title. I don't care for the lead singer's voice. Or the other singers that pop up. And the songs just aren't very good. Many are bad. A lot of 1s and 2s, with a zero-star concept.

On their debut, Run-D.M.C. clearly sets out to revolutionize the hip hop genre. And they largely accomplish that through an aggressive style that mixes early hip hop with rock and social awareness. However, some great ideas for beats or sounds aren’t enough to carry a whole song, and the chanted flow of the vocals gets worn out.

It's hard when you have to sit a group member down for a difficult intervention. To have a talk about a review so absurd it makes the whole group look bad. But we are sadly at that point with pretentious-ass. A hard reviewer to agree with, as the data attests, but someone who often makes a good point and shares a reasonable opinion even if I don't always share it. Alas, not today. "Every couple of years a singer like Adele comes through with a breakout album that's been promoted, marketed and consequently adored by all the early/mid-30's, recently married (mostly) women." Adele is totally not my typical kind of music. Pop heavily influenced by soul and R&B, with an emphasis on a generational vocal talent, isn't something I listen to much of. Then again, there really isn't much else like Adele, despite some of the nonsense below. I am married. But not a woman. And no longer in my 30s. But I'm pretty confident Adele transcends the bubble pretentious-ass tries to shove her into. "There were the Celines, the Didos, the McLachlans, the Tunstalls and countless others. Now, it may not be fair for me to lop them all in together, because they're not all the same, but they all serve the I Heart Radio enthusiasts that gobble up this homogenized stuff." Um, please. Celine Dion is the only one that can come close to touching Adele's popularity and superstardom. I'm sorry that I Heart Radio is having such a tough time figuring out what to put on your Adele station, but that's because there is pretty much no one else that fills that same niche. But KT Tunstall? Never even had a top 10 hit song. Dido? Once. Sarah McLachlan? Just two, though "Angel" far outlived it's time as a hit thanks to the ASPCA. Dion is the only one who comes close. Though she had contemporaries in the 90s that were just as big, whereas no one in the 2000s can touch Adele. Dion had four #1s and 10 top 10s. Adele has had five #1s, eight top 10s, and 25 total songs on the Hot 100 to Dion's 21. But "Rolling in the Deep" was on the chart for 65 weeks, twice as long as the biggest Dion hit. It's not just 30-something soccer moms that kept Adele that hot. "There's nothing wrong with 21, but there's nothing amazing about it either. It's plain vanilla. I can say that. I'm a dabbler in the I Heart Radio world and I've even got a special place for the tunes that I find there. That place is called my 'guilty pleasures' playlist. You'll find artists like Vanessa Carlton, Counting Crows, Jane Weaver and Cracker there. If you're an artist tho, there's no clear path to gaining acceptance to this coveted and enviable playlist." You can love it, like it, or loathe it, but Adele's music isn't vanilla. There is all kinds of vanilla pop being cranked out, but Adele is at the very least Neapolitan. Then we're bringing Vanessa Carlton into it, which seems to follow in the seriously overrated department after Dido and KT Tunstall, but then we take a major detour. Counting Crows were not vanilla. But you finally got one right. Acceptable guilty pleasure. Jane Weaver I'll pass on as I barely know her from the 1001, and Cracker... the less said about that barely a one-hit wonder the better. This guilty pleasures playlist is weird. "Yes, Adele has a great voice, amazing even. All of the women above do. But unfortunately, this is just like so many others and doesn't resonate as anything special." Not amazing, even. Just flat out amazing. One of a kind. The only one that could have given her any kind of run for her money as the iconic voice of her generation would have been Amy Winehouse. "21" is absolutely top-notch from start to finish. Five singles hit the top 100. It sold 31 million copies, more than 10% more than the next highest album of the 21st century (weirdly 2nd place is a three-way tie between Linkin Park, Eminem, and Norah Jones). It is likely that no album will ever sell that many copies again. No one since Adele has come through with a break-out like she did at 19, or followed up with an even bigger hit at 21. The only artists making those kind of sales, pop chart, spins, and streams impact at that age are manufactured boy bands. She is a legit singer-songwriter with a dynamic voice (both in her writing and her singing). There is almost no one who is comparable, despite pretentious-ass' misguided efforts. I rarely listen to music like this. But when I do, it's Adele. I'm pretty sure that even if I really didn't care for the music I'd have to give it at least 4 stars on iconic impact alone. But there are so many songs on this album that break the scale that I don't even have to consider it.

My panties are unbunched. Not only can I not listen to this album without visualizing that stupid fuzzy hat, I can't even think of the name Jamiroquai without seeing that bizarre choice of headgear. That said, I was able to carry on through the album despite fuzzy-chapeau distractions dancing through my head. And it turned out "Virtual Insanity" was nowhere to be found here. Unless that applies to the crazy dancing behatted man in my daydreams. The fusion of jazz and funk often worked for me, the more disco-y bits not as much. Overall I liked "Emergency On Planet Earth" more than I thought I would.

After the 2:52 "69 Love Songs" and the 2:01 "Emergency on Planet Earth," Circle Jerks knocking out 14 song in 15 minutes was actually refreshing. With the breakneck speed at which they hit each of these half-developed song ideas, there is no time to even catch your breath, let alone wonder how much longer a song goes on past it's welcome or how many tracks there are left. So "Group Sex" benefits a bit from the context in which it was listened to. I mean, group sex is probably always going to depend on context.

"West Country Girl" and one of the other songs after that almost saved "The Boatman's Call" from the 1-star cellar, but "Green Eyes" sealed the deal.

Is there an echo in here? (No, not Echo & The Bunnymen, who are not as good as The Cure.) (And also not the echo of Robert Smith's vocals.) What echoes oddly is the shared conclusion among much of the group that a little bit of The Cure is frequently better than we expect, and too much of The Cure threatens to ruin it all. As with the various Covid vaccines and boosters for different age groups, The Cure is all about finding the right dosage.

I also don't get the hubbub over LDR. Although, maybe the hubbub was brief and fleeting, as it's been 10 years since her breakthrough with "Born to Die" and I had no idea she had come out with 7 more albums over that time. Most of her work in that decade seems to have come out with much less fanfare, though maybe I just don't pay enough attention to pop music. Sorry, "alt-pop." LDR's sultriness just always seemed like an overdone act to me from my limited exposure, and nothing on "Chemtrails" dissuades that take. Case in point, all the breathy whispers on this album are the worst parts. The best parts are just Taylor Swift-lite, and as they've both used Jack Antonoff as producer lately the similarity comes as no surprise. However, Antonoff's reputation for hooks and hits is let down by "Chemtrails."

"Funeral" was a revelation of early 2000s indie rock. I listened to this album over and over and over, and it inspired a shift in my musical tastes and interests. This is one of my favorite albums of all time, and even though it turns out Win Butler is a total piece of crap, as a piece of art "Funeral" still stands the test of time. I'll dock it one star, maybe even a couple, because listening to and thinking about Arcade Fire now feels me with regret and confusion. But it still comes out a 5, because it's that scale-breaking kind of album.

It may be the weakest Led Zeppelin album of the three we have listened to. But it is still an easy 5. Because it's still Led Zeppelin.

Upon first glance, I was surprised this was on the list. I certainly know some Sonic Youth, but this is not among the Sonic Youth with which I am familiar. I know their late 80s and early 90s stuff best, but Sonic Youth was a band I had to go back and discover years later because it was too under-the-radar indie for me at the time. Slightly wrong generation. But not to worry, on two accounts. First, there are 5 Sonic Youth albums on the list! And second, an amazing album well-deserving of the 1001 list. I know some Sonic Youth, but clearly not enough, and after listening to "E.V.O.L." I'll certainly be going on a little Sonic Youth bender. Likely their most famous song, "Bull in the Heather," off "Experimental Jet Set," doesn't even make the list. A fantastic band well ahead of their time. But while they have such talent and potential, "E.V.O.L." wanders off and gets lost in the abyss a bit too often. When it's focused its phenomenal, but it can't maintain those highs. It doesn't need to be focused all the time, but there were too many extended segments of bizarre background noise or weird feedback. The best parts of both the focused and unfocused stuff reminded me of Priests, a DC band that put out two terrific albums in the late 2010s. They must have been heavily influenced by Sonic Youth, but I had never been able to place it before.

Lovely, jangly, poppy folk rock. Bob Dylan’s songs sound better sung by someone else, and the harmonies don’t hurt either.

"Shining Star" is still great, but nothing else comes anywhere close to that level.

"Nowhere" continuously sounds like Ride was trying to make music of a kind that I would really dig. But try as they might, it was never quite right. It's hard to place exactly what was missing, but let's begin with the totally unspectacular vocals. So unspectacular, that as they droned on and on, never grabbing me or making me pay extra attention to a song, I would have never been able to guess that Ride utilized two lead singers. It took two guys to bore me that much? The bland singing was accompanied by guitar and drum work that never quite broke free and soared the way it needed to. They just kept chugging along, flat and even, which showed off some skill but hardly inspired any emotion. Maybe those are all just hallmarks of shoegaze, a hard-to-pin-down genre that apparently this album was emblematic of.

Sorry, Solomon, but I found this to be neither very rocking or very soulful. The endcap to a pretty unspectacular week of albums in which nothing reached above a very low 3. After EW&F's "Shining Star" started us off Monday, nothing after that song has really felt worthy of something I had to listen to before my time on this earthly plane expires.

Ric Ocasek and The Cars clearly helped create the 1980s. The lingering legacy of the 70s flows into the 80s directly through this album. There are a few superb pop song classics here, so superb that they almost sound like foundational pieces of early rock and roll covered in a slightly new style. Unfortunately, the songs from "The Cars" that were not hits fall pretty flat.

Filling in missing reviews brought me to a trio of Wu-Tang solo albums, best discussed together in a 3-in-1 review. Already having reviewed “Return to the 36 Chambers” and GZA’s “Liquid Swords,” how do these other Wu-Tang efforts hold up? While these are regarded as solo albums, the members’ first solo albums were all produced by RZA and each feature many Wu-Tang members. They even battled each other for RZA’s best beats - these are solo but Wu-Tang was still very much a collective. But they each have their own style that distinguishes them. Method Man’s “Tical” is my favorite of four solo albums - he brings the right amount of whimsy and fun to some otherwise hard-edged music, and it’s more about getting high than violence. He also keeps things concise - it’s much shorter than the other two, which have a large collection of decent tracks without hits. Raekwon’s “Only Built 4 Cuban Linx” is solid, but lacks the charm found on “Tical.” Ghostface Killah’s “Fishscale” is from later in his career - it's still filled with Wu-Tang cameos, but isn’t produced by RZA. I’m curious how it might compare to his solo debut, “Ironman” (which was RZA-produced). Ultimately, it doesn’t do it for me as much as the earlier Wu-Tang offerings. I do love how self-referential all the Wu-Tang members’ solo work is, though. RZA’s shaolin fixation still pops up, Method Man’s Tical concept (“taking into consideration all lives”) keeps popping up, Ghostface drops Iron Man references, and more - it’s all over, and it helps make it all feel very cohesive.

A group of penguins on land is called a colony, a rookery, or a waddle. A group of penguins floating in the water is called a raft. As far as I can tell, there is nowhere in which a group of penguins is called an orchestra. Even ones whose anthropomorphized depiction includes pubic hair. For superior penguin music, check out the soundtracks of classic films "Happy Feet" and "Surf's Up." The penguins in those pieces of cinema history also haunt my dreams less than the ones on the cover of this album.

In 1978, Willie Colón and Rubén Blades collaborated on the best selling salsa and Latin music album of all time. Unfortunately, it's not a style I know much about and thus can't tell you what makes it stand out from other salsa music. In 1994, Colón and Blades each ran for political office. I also can't tell you what made either stand out there, since Blades lost the Panamanian presidential election badly, and Colón lost in a primary for Democratic Representative in NY's 17th Congressional district. I also can't tell you what the outcome was of the May 2007 lawsuit that Colón filed against Blades for breach of contract. I can tell you that siembra means "sowing," though that doesn't really help us to judge this album.

I'd like to think I am experienced. And at over 400 albums in on the 1001 list, one thing I am experienced at is wading through a lot of mediocre "must-listen" albums in order to find the gems that break the ratings scale. "Are You Experienced?" is one of those gems. I could do without "Third Stone From the Sun," and "Stone Free" could actually use a little less cowbell, but aside from those two minor foibles this is an absolutely incredible album. Hendrix was so much more than just an amazing guitarist, and this album really put all of his experiences and talents together to show us all that not matter how experienced we might be, no one else will ever be Jimi. I would turn it up to 12, but the most I'm allowed to give is 5.

Perry Farrell and Dave Navarro must have a thing about nipples. Nipples feature on several Jane's Addiction album covers, and are ever-present when they are on stage. I used to think that Jane's Addiction was trying a little to hard to be shocking, right up there with Red Hot Chili Peppers. In spite of that, both RHCP and Jane's Addiction make awesome music. (And if you had to admit this into your rotation, Bethany, maybe there is room for RHCP too!) I do have to rank this album slightly below "Nothing's Shocking," though. I never wanted "Three Days" and "Then She Said..." to end, and "Been Caught Stealing" is a classic even if not technically their best work. But "Ain't No Right," "Obvious," and "Of Course" don't quite work for me. The first two have a bit too much going on at times, like the concurrent guitar and piano solos on "Obvious."

I think we listened to "The Suburbs" a week or two before the allegations about Win Butler came out and changed people's impression of Arcade Fire forever. I gushed over "The Suburbs." Then two months later, along comes "Funeral," and I acknowledged the allegations but even with Win's s***iness souring our associations with the music, those scale-breaking albums are still 5's. "Neon Bible" came up in the generator just a month later, all three albums by Arcade Fire within a three month span, the same three month span that saw their legacy forever changed. I didn't review it at the time. But in my "Suburbs" review, I did say: Arcade Fire came close to dispelling the curse of the sophomore slump with "Neon Bible." In fact, in terms of sales and acclaim, there was no dip. But "Funeral" was almost impossible to follow. "Neon Bible" still has an amazing start with "Black Mirror" and "Keep the Car Running," and "No Cars Go" is also terrific, but nothing in between really stands out in the way that "Funeral" was consistently terrific throughout. A couple years later, no longer nearly as big of a fan of the group, I think that opinion holds. "Neon Bible" was removed from the list. Deserved. So was "Suburbs." Not deserved. Though Win does deserve to be cancelled and removed from our idolatry despite the artistry of those first three albums.

"Dire Straits" sure takes its time getting going. Were they trying to get listeners to check to see if their 8-track was messed up? Once "Down By the Waterline" finally kicks in, though, the brisk pace established by the crisp guitars carries you away. "Water of Love" doesn't maintain the pace, however, and while the song isn't bad, it was too soon to shift gears. In fact, they only found that higher gear one more time, with “Sultans of Swing.” As with “Brothers in Arms,” their hits show their potential, but most of their work falls far short of it.

The fact that Stars Hollow had a town troubadour was just one of the many fun quirks of "Gilmore Girls," but the troubadour and his songs were ultimately quite forgettable. And just as forgettable as town troubadour Grant Lee Phillips was, his previous incarnation as 90s rocker Grant Lee Buffalo was just as forgettable.

Near the end of The Beatles, the band delivers some of their best (“Come Together,” “I Want You (She’s So Heavy,” “Here Comes the Sun”), and some I could do without (“Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” and “Octopus’s Garden”). The album cover may be the most iconic in history, but the album itself doesn’t add up to more than its hits.

Neu! at #668 just prompted me to go back and find the krautrock album I missed, and I can now say that Can's "Future Days" gets me no closer to understanding the genre, other than to know that it all sounds different. Of the options presented (Faust, Kraftwerk, Can, and Neu!) I prefer Can. It is the one that feels most listenable, and also somehow most experimental. It's also all over the place. So maybe it does fit with krautrock? I'm not a big ambient fan, but the ambient parts were ok. I'm not a huge jazz fan, but the jazz rock bits were ok. Overall, "Future Days" is ok, which it turns out is high praise for a krautrock album.

Absolutely amazing bookends with “Gimme Shelter” and “Satisfaction.” Everything in between is decent blues rock, but nothing reaches near the (unattainable) level set by their biggest hits.

I feel like “I Should Coco” and “In It For The Money” are out of order. “IIFTM” came out in 1997, but it sounds like a mid-90s Britpop album, looking backwards but at least being pretty tolerable for the genre. “I Should Coco” came out in 1995, but sounds forward-looking, almost a preview of the garage rock revival of the early 00s.

The opening title track, “Connected,” is a certified one-hit wonder song. That was followed by “Ground Level,” which gave me hope that Stereo MCs were more than their hit. But after that nice bit of acid jazz/trip-hop came a string of pretty dull songs that never grabbed my attention.

For a minute, I thought "He's a Great Dancer" was a wholesome appreciation of a guy's good moves. Then it turned out they were just objectifying him from the dancefloor to the bedroom. "We Are Family" is a terrific disco classic, but there's not much else of note here. Disco can be kinda dull and repetitive sometimes, seemingly working counter to the dance-fueled aims of the genre.

I’ve come a long long way since the time in my early college days when I found Fatboy Slim tolerable, or even enjoyable. And yet, I kind of dug this. Parts of it at least. Not just some songs but not others. Rather parts of songs. And not other parts of those same songs. To some extent, “Right Here, Right Now,” “Rockefeller Skank,” and “Praise You” all deserve the hype and airplay they got. But each is also a little too repetitive, wait a bit too long for the break, or promptly return right back to the repetition. I heard DJs use these songs, though, and they’re better when remixed and mixed quickly with other things. And I didn’t know why I knew “Gangster Trippin” until dmo pointed out that it was in the movie “Go,” and that took me back. But really, that says it all about Fatboy Slim - perfect for weird white wanna-be raver kids in search of drugs. Also, “In Heaven” is neither a good song nor something I want to listen to with a car full of middle schoolers.

I thought that “Haut de gamme” might mean “hate the game,” as in what you should hate instead of the player. Apparently it's more about high-end, luxury, or upscale fashion and culture. I guess Koffi Olomide’s outfit on the album cover fits that a bit. But Olomide’s high-end luxury style didn’t click for me as well as the Femi Kuti album I listened to right before this. Olomide was apparently very influential in African music, and especially in Congolese culture, but mostly what I will recall is the various feuds and legal issues he encountered later in life that I read about while listening.

Madonna in the 80s was iconic and era-defining. And then she reinvented herself with 98's "Ray of Light," becoming a techno diva. She's now reinvented herself again in her 60s, but don't look. It's kind of scary. And we should instead focus on "Like a Prayer," which along with "Ray of Light" are the only Madonna albums on the list. "Till Death Do Us Part" is the only non-hit that captures the magic of "Like a Virgin" and "Cherish," which both hold up as delightful pop gems. "Promise To Try" is awful, though now that I read it's about the death of her mother I feel bad. But it's also a big no-thank-you to "Love Song," and "Dear Jessie." "Pray for Spanish Eyes" is the only slower tempo song that works for me. Madonna was a pretty frequent presence in my house when I was kid (I think my parents only owned Madonna and Paula Abdul CDs), and looking back on those albums and songs, I think her self-titled debut and "True Blue" are stronger albums that are more deserving of the list.

See "If You're Feeling Sinister" review (#386).

I'm prejudiced against artist who name something "Vol. 1" without any intention of ever releasing a "Vol. 2." So while I didn't listen without prejudice, I did give George Michael a chance. And this was better and less weird than "Faith."

One of my favorite albums of all time. I think it's pretty perfect. Somehow I left this off my VP essential album recommendations list, an error I will now rectify. I used to think I liked trip-hop. Then, over the course of 430 albums, we've listened to Röyksopp, Massive Attack, Tricky, and a handful of things that dabbled into the genre briefly but without consistency. It turns out maybe I don't like trip-hop, I just like Portishead. Or maybe Portishead, and "Dummy" in particular, just nailed the genre so well that everything else pales in comparison. The album flows sublimely from one track to the next, creating one of the most enveloping, haunting, sultry, and mesmerizing musical experiences I've had.

This was pretty great. I liked it a little better than "Sound Affects" or the Paul Weller solo album we listened to. Would definitely go back to The Jam after this.

A writer for NME, in reviewing Super Furry Animals' 7th album in 2005, wrote that "There’s a case to be argued that SFA are the most important band of the past 15 years." And compared them to the Beatles. Maybe they're way more popular and influential in Wales? Their debut, "Fuzzy Logic," was fine, but it didn't exactly set the world on fire or launch a Welsh Invasion of anywhere. But I must thank SFA for their most important decision in the lead-up to "Fuzzy Logic." An early version of the band featured actor Rhys Ifans on lead vocals, and while I'm not sure what caused him to split from the band, all were better for it. Well, at least Ifans was better for it. He's gone on to a terrific career, with performances ranging from Mycroft Holmes to the Lizard to Xenophilius Lovegood to his best and most recent, Ser Otto Hightower. Meanwhile, Super Furry Animals have... I'm guessing had lasting popularity in Wales?

I'm totally fine with donating my organs, or whatever is useful, after my death. I would also be totally fine with receiving the donated organs of someone else, if I had the need. But donated eyes is a bit weird. Eyes are organs, but they are a bit unique as far as organs go, what with being partially on the outside, and being instrumental in a sense that allows us to perceive the world. Plus, watching someone else's eyes get poked or touched or injured or anything affects me in a way that manipulating internal organs never does. But Gary Gilmore wanted to donate only his eyes. In fairness, he thought that would be the only part of his body that remained useful, after his execution by firing squad. He chose firing squad over other options, and also asked not to have his execution stayed, following his conviction of double murder in 1977. He was the first person executed in America in 10 years, after the Supreme Court decided in Furman v. Georgia that the death penalty was cruel and unusual punishment. Most of The Adverts' debut album was fun and irreverent punk, but "Gary Gilmore's Eyes" certainly has a different edge to it. Regardless, it was a raucous and enjoyable album.

Van Halen is synonymous with the hard rock sound of the 1980s. But their self-titled debut preceded that decade by two years, I have now discovered, and thus listening to and learning about this album has helped me to realize just how instrumental Van Halen was at shaping that aforementioned sound. The hard rock/heavy metal-lite/hair metal of the 80s is a guilty pleasure for many, myself included. But for early DLR Van Halen, it has come to my attention that it should be moved to the pleasure (guilt-free) category.

Bringing the Kuti story full circle on the 1001 is Femi Kuti, son of the legendary Fela Kuti. On the two Fela Kuti albums, I only delved into parts of his story, missing the whole picture. That whole picture saw his son Femi come to live with him at age 15, right around the time those government zombie soldiers raided his compound, right before the father married 27 women (none of whom were Femi’s mother). It is a different culture, but beyond that it had to make for some interesting dynamics as this teenager joined his father’s band (and family). Femi followed in his father’s footsteps (in music, not in polygamy), and that in turn led to this terrific album. The family tradition now carries on in the hands of Femi’s son Made Kuti. I just got done writing in another review that music in other languages often has a ceiling for me, but maybe it’s more of a style thing? Maybe I just like afrobeat more than samba? Chock it up to another musical taste mystery that the 1001 didn’t help me solve.

I knew “Tapestry” was famous and renowned, and we even have it on vinyl (as a boomer parent hand-me-down). But I’d never listened to it. Just a look at the song titles immediately sounded familiar though. And for many who grew up with boomer parents in the 80s, I’m sure it does feel very familiar. Listening to it, the album was filled with familiarity. So many hits! But they weren’t all as I remembered them…? Though I at first worried there were a lot of covers on “Tapestry,” the truth was close but far more interesting. Many have performed these songs both before and after Carole King, but they are King’s songs. And what she and her co-writer(s) accomplished over the years as pretty special. Her versions might not necessarily be my favorites, but the songs still sound great in her hands (and voice).

Yet another album I looked forward to due to legacy and influence, only to be sorely disappointed. There was such a huge leap from the early hip hop of the 80s to both the gangsta and indie/underground rap of the 90s.

Neil Young is a great songwriter and a terrific musician. He is a notable influence on many artists, and a man of principles and integrity. And he's a terrible singer. Occasionally I think Young uses his voice well, masking its limitations and accentuating its uniqueness. But "Tonight's the Night" had too much bad Neil Young singing. I made it through, enjoying some parts and cringing at others, and then had the realization that Built to Spill's Doug Martsch's voice kind of reminds me of a better Neil Young in a weird way. So I listened to some Built to Spill. Thanks, Neil.

I'm sorry, hellyeah, that after giving you so much grief about Jeff Buckley that I now must do this to your beloved Steely Dan. But I just couldn't with "Aja." I kept continuously laughing out loud at the cheesiness of so many parts. Steely Dan definitely has a signature sound that I now recognize as Steely Dan. But it only works for me on a couple of their biggest hits, and those were not to be found here (I did recognize "Peg"). Apologies, but this one is even below the JBZ for me.

Our third from CCR delivers more of that signature southern swamp rock by way of California, just with fewer hits. I don’t think I knew any of these. “Green River” brings more of the same quality, as it was apparently part of an unprecedented two year blitz of stunning musical productivity. Maybe not quite as catchy, and unfortunately John Fogerty’s exaggerated southern accent is still too much at times, but otherwise very solid.

The style of Jorge Ben Jor’s “Africa Brasil” is a pretty fun mix of diverse influences. But with lyrics in a language I don’t understand, unless the vocals really lend themselves to the atmosphere created by the music then there seems to be a ceiling for my enjoyment.

Beach House is a name I feel like I have heard a lot in the last 10 years, and not just from planning vacations. I'm sure I've heard them on Sirius XMU, and know that they are a much buzzed about indie band. But I couldn't have named or successfully Heardled any of their songs. I listened to "Teen Dream" in two parts, both in the car, but those two rides a mere hour apart found me in quite different moods. I was quite unimpressed by the first half of the album, but when I got back in the car I was a little bit agitated, and Beach House soothed me and calmed me down. By the end of the album I was really enjoying it. I went back to figure out why I had heard the name so much, and found that "Teen Dream" was one of the most acclaimed albums of 2010. Pitchfork even named this the third best dream pop album of all time, right behind Mazzy Star, which I enjoy, and the #1 ranked "Heaven or Las Vegas" from the Cocteau Twins, which the record will show I really don't like. Mood and emotion are deeply impacted by music (and vice versa). Is dream pop a very varied genre, with some stuff I like and some I don't? Or is it partly that how we respond to music is sometimes so dependent on mood that it's hard to fairly judge or compare things listened to at different times/moments in our lives?

I skim a lot of year-end music lists from all the publications looking for best-of clicks. I usually think about how I should make playlists of the songs and artists of the year to go check them out later. But then I don't usually take that step, and repeat the mistake a year later. Thankfully, the 1001 is filling in some of the gaps. Michael Kiwanuka is definitely a name I've seen on those lists, and always meant to check out his music. Now that I have, I'm not sure I get the hype. "KIWANUKA" is a solid album, but I wouldn't call it the instant classic that I have seen it referred to in the music media. Maybe I'll give it another spin or check out his other albums to see if I can figure out what I'm missing.

Alex Turner has such a recognizable voice, and it doesn't matter if its early Arctic Monkeys, the recent lounge-y dramatic Arctic Monkeys, or the Last Shadow Puppets' cinematic 60s coolness. Maybe it's just nostalgia from when I first heard "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" in 2005, but I miss that vibe and energy from Turner's singing. I'm all for bands and artists growing and maturing and evolving, but sometimes we just pine for the sound we first fell in love with. The Last Shadow Puppets is a cool side-project experiment, and the rapid rise from the Arctic Monkeys debut to Turner and company putting this together with the London Metropolitan Orchestra must have been pretty cool. They seem to have accomplished just what they set out to do, creating a sound that would seem completely at home as a 60s movie score, and it made for an enjoyable listen. However, in hearing this and the singles from Arctic Monkeys' new album I can't help but long for Turner's early work.

The album title, "Frank," allegedly is partially in tribute to Frank Sinatra, who was among Amy Winehouse's many anachronistic influences. But it could just as easily refer to her frank manner - unreserved, unedited, direct, candid, and open. The result of that frankness in her music was a breath of fresh air, taking so many classic soul, R&B, and jazz sounds and melding them with hip hop and something just uniquely Amy. I'm not sure I ever listened to "Frank" before, though I feel like I know the more popular follow-up "Back to Black" well. It is immediately evident what Simon Fuller saw in her, though nothing on "Frank" soars to the heights reached later by "Rehab" and "Back to Black." That said, there is still a lot to like on "Frank," including Winehouse's talents as a songwriter in addition to her notable pipes. It's a voice that quickly became iconic, but I can't help but be left thinking that she doesn't always use it to its potential. I love that in addition to her 1960s influences she also loves Nas (enough to sample him on "In My Bed" and write a whole song about him on "Back to Black"). I love that she pushed boundaries and recoiled at the idea of doing things by the numbers. I hate that such an open and candid person had to turn to alcohol and drugs to feel comfortable performing on stage. And I hate that her brilliance, like Cobain and Hendrix and Joplin and Morrison and so many others, left us too soon to find out where their journey would take them next.

There has been much talk in recent weeks of the privilege of so-called "nepo babies" in Hollywood, building careers off the connections of their actor and director parents. While nepotism usually is cross-generational, Solange's famous older sister surely had an impact on her record deal and collaborators. But if someone is deserving, there is no shame in leaning on your connections to benefit your talent. And Solange clearly is not lacking for talent. R&B is not my genre. But "A Seat at the Table" is wonderful. Even a brief Lil Wayne appearance didn't deter my head nodding while I enjoyed the chill vibe. "F.U.B.U." almost lost me, but overall it was consistent and enjoyable, and fresh and different from a lot of churchy bombastic R&B I'm used to. In the end, whether or not her familial connections helped launch Solange's career, she is now boosting others around her with an album regarded by numerous industry publications as one of the top albums of the year.

I listened to "Out of Step" nearly four times, repeatedly going back to it not because I loved it and couldn't get enough, but because I was having trouble deciding just what I thought of it. My first reaction to seeing the album pop up was excitement to explore a foundational D.C. hardcore punk band that I had long meant to delve into. But my second reaction at the start of the album was disappointment, with the first song representing much of what keeps me from embracing hardcore more. All lyrics screamed in one unvarying burst at the same level and intonation, no nuance there or in the music. I fixated on that take and I think unfairly applied it to later songs, which upon further listens actually often break from that mold. Still, after multiple listens I can only come around part way. pretentious-ass suggested their "Salad Days" EP, and I enjoyed that more. And the band certainly deserves credit for their pioneering role in D.C. punk, the hardcore scene, and the coining of the term "straight edge." But "Out of Step" isn't enough to stay in my rotation.

“Fragile” opens with “Roundabout,” which proves that, Yes, 70s organ-driven prog rock can be great. Things then get a little weird, before turning it back around with “South Side of the Sky.” “Long Distance Runaround" and the instrumental “The Fish” both build on the feeling of “Roundabout,” and “Heart of the Sunrise” brings it back after the detour of “Mood for a Day.” Overall, a pretty cohesive and enjoyable album from a band and genre that didn’t always deliver.

I'm certainly no piano expert, but Keith Jarrett's playing on "The Köln Concert" does appear pretty special even to my untrained ears. It is the only album of it's kind on the 1001 list, suggesting again that it must be pretty special. And pretty special circumstances led up to it's recording, as an 18-year-old concert promoter dealt with several complications in the run-up to the show. What it produced despite challenges is an impressive work of art.

"Time of the Season" was a surprise hit? It is far and away the best song on "Odessey(sic) And Oracle," with the rest being mostly cringey overly saccharine flower child wanderings. But perhaps most troubling is that the choice of the name The Zombies doesn't fit at all with the music. Except when the music just moves too slow and you want to chop their heads off to put an end to it. Apparently their original short-lived bassist came up with the name, and the other members barely knew what zombies were. While zombies were introduced into popular culture along with other monster movies in the 1930s with "White Zombie," it wasn't until 1968's "Night of the Living Dead" that they became a pop culture mainstay. So why name your group of Beatles wanna-bes The Zombies in 1961? Regardless, by the time 1968 rolled around, these young Brits did indeed become akin to a reawakened corpse with an insatiable appetite for some of the most boring pyschedelic rock ever produced. Only "Time of the Season," an absolutely terrific song, saves the rest of the decaying dreck from the dreaded single star.

Two tragic 27 Club members just over a week apart, and yet again we are left wondering what else these artists' lives would have brought if not for their awful early ends. Amazingly, this was the 6th studio album released by The Doors in their five years as a full group before Jim Morrison's death, and maybe most surprisingly it doesn't feel like an album filled with too many B-sides that should have been cut. Some of the prolific bands of the 60s should have combined their best work into fewer albums, but "L.A. Woman" is strong throughout. The only misstep was "Cars Hiss by My Window," which didn't feature much hissing as it sounded like the band was about to fall asleep midway through. "L.A. Woman" (the song) and the epic "Riders on the Storm" carry the album, but there is plenty more goodness to be found. Morrison and the Doors might have produced more music than Amy Winehouse before they turned 27, but there could have been so much more.

Absolutely bizarre chance to draw this album on the same day Jeff Beck passed away. I had never heard Beck play until we listened to his "solo" album "Truth" several months ago. I was really impressed with him then, and thought his guitar worked well with Rod Stewart's vocals. On the Yardbirds I don't think Beck pairs as well with lead singer Keith Relf, and most of these songs don't quite hit right for me. "Lost Woman" was probably my favorite, though to get to that supposed opening track I had to get through two other later Yardbirds tracks that started the strange expanded version I stumbled upon unknowingly.

YES WILLIE WOULD LIKE SOME SWEETS! HE TOLD YOU WHICH ONES HE WANTS! YOU’RE GOING TO MISS THE BUS JUST GIVE HIM THE SWEETS!

“This Year’s Model” spans the full Elvis Costello spectrum. “Pump It Up” is about as good as Costello gets, and “(I Don’t Want to Go To) Chelsea” is the kind of Costello that there is way too much of on the list. I’m finally done with Costello.

Sarah Vaughan is another of the very few artists whose careers long pre-date the mid-50s start of the 1001 list. But she’s the only one of those artists that I wasn’t familiar with before this album. Ultimately, Vaughan has a great voice for jazz, but it's not quite as transcendent as contemporaries like Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday.

I think that I have somehow never heard a Replacements song before. I recognized nothing on this album, or any of their other top hits. But I know the name, and even know a bit of singer Paul Westerberg's solo work from his songs on the soundtrack of the movie "Singles." So who are the Replacements? And who were they replacing? Oh, it was Westerberg who did the replacing, by convincing the bands' original singer he was going to be fired, goading him into quitting, then taking the reins and renaming the band!? Well, damn. And I see that the band name itself was a replacement, a definite upgrade from Dogbreath and apparently a necessary rebranding after being banned from a venue they played for disorderly behavior. I'm glad to now know Paul Westerberg and The Replacements better. But I feel like they are constantly replacing and reinventing their sound, sticking to punk and hardcore in their early years. Their attempt on "Let It Be" to move away from that sound led them in lots of different directions, as you can hear on the albums. There's a lot of variation in genre here, which makes the band hard to get comfortable with. Who needs to be comfortable, though? The Replacements also challenged people to be uncomfortable in 1984 with the song "Androgynous," which stood out the most on "Let It Be." After a 2022 filled with debates about transgender rights and drag shows, this song's tolerance reminds us that there have been allies as long as there have been non-conforming people. It also served as a reminder that 1970s and 80s rock music was filled with challenges to gender conformity. While Westerberg sang "Tomorrow who's gonna fuss," we are still waiting for the day the last vestiges of that fussing fades away. As I read about "Androgynous," I realized I had heard a Replacements song before. A couple years ago I heard a cover of "Androgynous" (not realizing who wrote it) in a live backyard session by Joan Jett, Miley Cyrus, and Laura Jane Grace of Against Me! Check it out, and while you're at it, dive even deeper with Against Me!'s "Transgender Dysphoria Blues."

Willie Nelson’s “Red Headed Stranger” was perhaps only possible in the mid-70s coming out of the outlaw country movement. It’s a cool little concept album, it’s stripped down and sparse, and it certainly eschews the increasingly formulaic trappings of the Nashville-centric country world. Formulaic mainstream country would continue to take over in the decades that followed, but Nelson would remain firm in his outlaw, outsider position. It’s great that Nelson and others were able to maintain creative freedom and stick to their roots and values. But ultimately “Red Headed Stranger” is too slow for me.

The theatricality and glaminess that’s always hovering around heavy metal is very apparent on Iron Maiden’s “Number of the Beast.” Unrelated to the music, the artwork of Derek Riggs on Iron Maiden’s album covers is iconic and synonymous with 80s metal music.

It took me a while to process "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill" and decide how to review it, just like it takes a while for Lauryn Hill to show up for her concerts. But regardless of the many meandering journeys Hill's career has taken since the release of this album, it remains a masterpiece. There are a few duds scattered among the 16 tracks, but there are so many standout classics that a boring track or two can be excused. The most interesting thing about "Miseducation," though, is Hill's ability to reach such a peak only to never find it again. There have been plenty of one-hit wonders, but Hill's output with the Fugees and in her solo debut go well beyond one-hit status, but the twists and turns of her career and life have prevented audiences and fans from ever really seeing if she could sustain the success through a second album and beyond. It's fairly common for a musician to have a hit and then fade away, but it feels much less common for a singer to create such a masterpiece and then have no meaningful follow-up.

While "Pour Some Sugar On Me" was a huge hit, possibly bigger than anything on "Pyromania," I give the slight edge to "Pyromania" overall. There are a few hits on "Hysteria," but everything else is pretty unspectacular when spectacular is kind of what the genre is all about. "Pour Some Sugar on Me" and a few others have some pretty cringey lyrics too. If "Pyromania was a high 3, this one is barely a low 3.

After thoroughly enjoying "Gorillaz," I stalled on writing the review until the prodding came four days later in the form of Blur's "Parklife." Because Blur and Gorillaz are opposite ends of the Damon Albarn spectrum - the Blur end of gross Britpop (why couldn't anything else they did sound like "Song 2") and the Gorillaz end of genre-defying cartoon brilliance. "Gorillaz" was such a refreshing and much-needed debut when it came out in 2001. "Tank Girl" creator Jamie Hewlett's art and the musical assistance and influence of Dan the Automator and many other collaborators made Gorillaz something that had never been seen or heard before. I listened to this album a lot when it came out, and was happy it held up to my musical taste (aided by nostalgia) more than 20 years later. I've listened to Gorillaz in bits and pieces since then, and know most of their most popular songs from later albums, but I don't know any the way I know their debut. Listening to "Gorillaz" again made me want to delve back in, and the more I consider the concept, the more I adore it. The cartoon characters and their world allow us to hold up a twisted mirror to our own in a way other music can never quite manage, and now that I know there is a detailed fictional history of the band members I'm intrigued to seek out the scattered source material in addition to the albums.

“Happy Trails” isn’t really billed as a live album. But it was recorded live over multiple performances. I’ve complained about live albums on the list many times, but I think it’s the greatest hits nature of many of them, not the way they are recorded. Record in a studio in multiple takes. Record on a stage in a single take. You do you. Quicksilver Messenger Service does it with some terrific classic guitar work. But their psychedelia got a little out of hand. I’m more worn out by psychedelic rock at this point than I am of live albums.

“Two Weeks” is infectious, and “Ready, Able” is haunting and quietly intense. The rest of Grizzly Bear’s “Veckatimest” never quite reaches those heights, but it is consistently interesting and challenging.

Blur’s “Parklife” opens with “Girls & Boys,” a truly annoying song. It gets a bit better after that, but that’s not saying much. “Bank Holiday” is the best song on the album, in a much punkier style that I wish Blur delved into more. I re-read my “Modern Life is Rubbish” review, and I don’t think I could do any better job of summarizing what I think of Blur. So I’ll just leave “Parklife” with its two stars and move on.

It's not all bad, but "The Rise & Fall" loses a star just for never being released in the US, rendering it impossible to even listen to the whole thing. I found some bits and pieces of it out of order on the "Madness" compilation, but it's just ok. Even "Our House," while fondly remembered, isn't my jam.

"Heart of Glass" and "One Way or Another" was pretty much all I knew of Blondie, along with a vague sense of Debbie Harry as a frontwoman. Unfortunately, though "Heart of Glass" is iconic, I kind of hate it. "One Way or Another," and the rest of the first half of "Parallel Lines," are much better. But it seems like most of the time there is just a little something missing. Sometimes the guitars are great, sometimes they are forgettable. Sometimes Harry's voice finds the edge and the attitude, but too often it's missing. Things start to go downhill a bit starting with "Pretty Baby," and by the time the aforementioned "Heart of Glass" arrived I had nearly given up. The cover of Buddy Holly's "I'm Gonna Love You Too" almost brought things back, but overall I'm left curious about whether Blondie's earlier albums delivered more bite.

In a rare break from katek, I like 80s Rush a lot. But it turns out I also like 70s Rush. The 20 minute song feels unnecessarily chunked together, but aside from that quibble “2112” is another progtastic delight.

Metallica’s self-titled album - the “black” album - was my first real exposure to Metallica. Even after I went back and listened to their earlier, rawer work, it kept an outsized place for me in part through the Virginia Tech football team’s use of “Enter Sandman” as their entrance hype song. When Metallica played the song live at Lane Stadium earlier this month, the VT fans jumped up and down to “Enter Sandman” just as they do at the start of every home football game, and it shook not just the stadium but the earth enough to register at a nearby seismological station. “Enter Sandman” also was used for the entrance of ECW wrestler Sandman, so for many reasons I’ve got a soft spot for that song and the album. It was also a huge hit, and remains their most popular. It’s what a lot of people think of when they think of Metallica. But is it their best? Not for me. “Ride the Lightning” and “Master of Puppets” are more consistent, with the black album close behind.

We've made it through our 4th and final album by the Kinks, and you've gotta give it up for their consistency. I was consistently underwhelmed by the Kinks for all four albums. Occasionally decent, but never great, the Kinks likely deserve inclusion the list but not four entries. "Face to Face" was almost the worst of them. The first four tracks almost chased me away, but I stuck around and was rewarded with "Rainy Day in June" and "House in the Country," where I started to see the Kinks' potential. The middle of the album continued to achieve those lofty heights of decency, but it tailed off again at the end. But I think "Dandy" and "Session Man" are enough to keep the album at a 2 rather than a 3.

There are so many dumb background noises in some Korn songs that I began to wonder if Korn invented ASMR. Curious to know where ASMR actually originated, I researched to learn that the weird sounds in YouTube videos are not ASMR. They are using sounds intended to induce ASMR, which is a tingling sensation that moves down the spine. People say it is euphoric and relaxing. ASMR videos do not actually give me an autonomous sensory meridian response. And neither does Korn. Korn does sometimes give me a skin-crawling type sensation, but not a pleasant spine tingling thing. We can mock "Follow the Leader" today, but this album was huge when it came out. It debuted at #1 on the Billboard chart. It won the Grammy for best music video. In fact, it is pretty quintessentially 1998. The late 90s were bizarre, and Woodstock '99 documentaries aside I think we still don't fully understand what was going on with that cultural zeitgeist. And like much of the late 90s, Korn (sorry, "KoЯn") really doesn't age well. "Got the Life" is the only song on the album I don't hate. It's not all bad though. While much of his growling and nu-metal beatboxing are really irritating, occasionally Jonathan Davis does interesting things with his voice. There are flashes of potential in the guitar and the dynamic drumming. But instead it's track after track of potential-squandering ear-bleed inducing trash.

Fleet Foxes debuted right at the end a decade I spent mostly living in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and Fleet Foxes gave me the ability to take with me the feeling of sitting atop a mountain and taking in the misty valley below. It also came out a decade after Korn's "Follow the Leader," yesterday's album that couldn't be more different from "Fleet Foxes." And while "Follow the Leader" heralded some dark days ahead for popular music, Fleet Foxes represented an emergence from the tunnel. The light at the end of the tunnel had been visible for a while, after a few years of descending into the darkness, but the light had been growing ever-brighter thanks to "indie" slowly retaking the rock reigns from nu-metal thanks to the efforts of The Shins, Arcade Fire, Bon Iver, Modest Mouse, and many more. "Fleet Foxes" felt a bit like a culmination of a decade that started so dark, now coming back into the light. As the opening track declared - "the sun, it will rise." And it let me take the Blue Ridge Mountains with me wherever I went.

"The Stooges" is a pretty remarkable statement in a debut album, and stands out tremendously amongst its 1969 peers. "We Will Fall" is a misstep, but I was in such a good mood coming off of "I Wanna Be Your Dog" that it can be mostly forgiven.

Younger generations always think the old guard is trying to put them down. Older generations often don’t dig what they’re trying to say. The Boomers who wrote “My Generation” in 1965 thought the Silent and Greatest Generations just didn’t get them. Now those Boomers are trying to put Gen Z and Gen Alpha down, but the kids are alright and they wish the Boomers would just fade away. Well, ok, the kids aren’t totally alright. They’re addicted to smartphones and social media. But just like in 1965, they wish their parents and grandparents would step aside and take their outdated ideas, values, and traditions with them. Aside from the title track and “The Kids Are Alright,” The Who give off the impression that their generation didn’t have much of importance to say. Nothing else makes much of an impact, nothing else rises to the level of something their elders would try to put down. It's solid enough 60s power pop, but it’s not groundbreaking or culture-shifting. It was 1965, Beatlemania had already peaked, rock and roll was mainstream, and the Mods were into fashion and scooters. Gasp! Fashion and scooters!? Gramps just doesn’t get how cool your Vespa is? I do really like “My Generation” and “The Kids Are Alright,” though. I think a lot of my fondness for “The Kids Are Alright” comes from Pearl Jam covers, but The Who original is alright too.

I wish I could tell you what I thought of "Meat Puppets II" without having first heard "Plateau," "Oh, Me," and "Lake of Fire" repeatedly on Nirvana "Unplugged." Hearing the Nirvana versions first just isn't fair. Though I hope they exposed a lot more people to the Meat Puppets? I actually owned the Meat Puppets' "Too High To Die," which came out the year after "Unplugged," though I didn't come to them through the covers. I think it was hearing "Backwater" on the radio. "Backwater" is a pretty stereotypically mid-90s alternative rock song, but the rest of "Too High To Die" is pretty good and holds up well. But the major difference between that album and "Meat Puppets II" is the vocals. Curt Kirkwood simply became a much better singer over those 10 years, and it makes their later work so much better. Their early/mid 80s stuff may have been so underground that they were deliberately going for crappy vocals. ⭐️⭐️⭐️ for "Meat Puppets II" (just barely) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ for "Too High To Die"

Even as a follow-up to “OK Computer,” “Kid A” and “Amnesiac” were bold moves by Radiohead. The music is sweeping, challenging, orchestral, haunting, electronic, discordant, pulling the listener into an aural storm. “Kid A” remains on the 1001, while “Amnesiac” has been removed in later editions. I think this is the right call, although I love parts of both albums. But “Kid A” had the biggest impact, as the direct extension of the “OK Computer” evolution. Both albums came out of the same recording sessions, so it's fitting to choose just one as essential Or maybe replace them both with the 2021 double album reissue? Whether you love it or hate it, I think this absolutely fits the bill as music that you’ve gotta listen to at least once in your lifetime.

Five Bowie albums in and I can officially confirm - David Bowie is just not for me. And I think glam in general is not really my thing. I actually think "Moonage Daydream" is great, but almost nothing else on "Ziggy Stardust" works for me. "Suffragette City" is good, but it's also the third example in the last four albums with a song that I know much better (and prefer) in a cover version. Alas, five albums in doesn't mean we are at the end. Bowie still has three more to come on a list that seems to love his every iteration.

That was pretty chill.

I think I listened to "Dookie" four times over a three-day stretch, while also listening to "Kerplunk," "Insomniac," "Nimrod," "American Idiot," and part of "21st Century Breakdown." There was a lot of Green Day that weekend. You would get the impression that I love Green Day. My biggest impression was that Billy Joe needs some Nasonex. Or a neti pot. Or a humidifier. Or a long hot shower? It turns out that I referenced some of those albums when we reviewed "American Idiot." I said "Look, we all loved some 'Dookie.' It was dumb punk fun. But we're not gonna pretend that Green Day didn't go gradually downhill from there in their next several albums." and "Who knows, maybe I would eat my words if I went back and listened to all of 'Insomniac' or 'Nimrod.'" And now I'm eating my words. I do love "Dookie." (The album.) But the two follow-ups are nearly as good, and "Dookie" might actually go on a few songs too long. I still hold them responsible for pop-punk, and still think that "American Idiot" was a maturing of their sound that worked really well. But "Dookie" was already pretty polished. (I guess you CAN polish a turd.) And yet, despite all this, I had such a hard time rating this album. I couldn't really place why I was hesitating to give it a 5, so I listened over and over and took the deep dive into their catalogue. And I still don't really have a good explanation for exactly how I feel about Green Day. I like them a lot, I think. But it's not quite love. I do love "She." Underrated best song on "Dookie."

The first track had me kind of excited for some blues rock, but it turned out to be kind of a let down I tuned out as it progressed. Luckily "La Grange" came in to save the day near the end, but overall I didn't like "Tres Hombres" as much as I was hoping.

It's a lovely story that Mercury Rev were three albums in and not finding the success they hoped for before recording "Deserter's Songs" as a "let's-go-out-on-our-own-terms" moment. They were ready to give their dreams up, and then "Deserter's Songs" was a surprise hit and it kept them going. The Flaming Lips' Wayne Coyne, who's band was recording in the same studio at the same time, said that "Their audience had gone away, and all they could do was make the music that was in their dreams." I'm glad they got to continue bringing their dreams to life, but some of their dreams are my nightmares. Was there a singing saw used in multiple songs? Why!?

I liked it better than "Shaft."

I hate listening to something and thinking it's just a jumble of irritating noise. Because that's what so many said about many different genres and iterations of rock music over the years, and it just made all of them sound old and out-of-touch. Am I old and out-of-touch? Because a lot of Death in Vegas' "Contino Sessions" sounds like aimless noise. "Dirge" was a decent start, but the vocals on "Soul Auctioneer" were a turnoff and then "Death Threat" descended into noise with random arhythmic beeps. "Flying" was almost tolerable until the last couple minutes of an overlong track, and the Iggy Pop spoken word ramblings of an acid trip future on "Aisha" didn't help. "Lever Street" almost brough tit back, and then "Aladdin's Story" finally delivered something song-like, but it wasn't written by Death in Vegas. It was, incredibly randomly, a never-used Mick Jagger/Keith Richards collaboration? Listenability continued with "Broken Little Sister," aided by The Jesus and Mary Chain's Jim Reid, and "Neptune City" was also ok. The version of the album on Amazon continued with three more decent songs before a long string of remixes, but we can't count those as the original ended at "Neptune City." Those last three tracks save "Contino Sessions" from being as single-star worthy as Mercury Rev, but this is still not one I'd leave on by choice.

“Shout,” “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” and “Head Over Heels” seem to hold up really well? But past that, it’s all 80s cringe to match the cover photo, complete with the usual attempts to ruin the saxophone as an instrument.

If this is what a night at the opera was like, I would go to the opera. Actual opera music is down there with my least favorite musical styles/genres. But Queen's idea of a "Night at the Opera" is more like it. Genre whiplash is part of what keeps this interesting, though. Some of those genre experiments work (the folky "'39"), but some are too much ("Seaside Rendezvous"). "Bohemian Rhapsody" is the real attraction, though, and worth at least an extra star by itself.

It’s neat that David Holmes kept audio recordings he made in New York City when he was 17, and that he decided to build an album around them 10 years later. But there are too many of them, they’re too long, and they interrupt the vibe too often. There’s some cool electronica on “Let’s Get Killed,” especially the bits of drum and bass on the title track. Beyond that my attention waned at times, but then I found my foot tapping and I was drawn back in.

"Brothers" is the only Black Keys album on the list. This is a travesty. The Black Keys might be the best rock group of the 21st century. "Brothers" isn't even their best work. The 1001 also seemingly has a penchant for adding new music only to remove it in a future edition. I bring this up because there are no Black Keys albums on the removed list. There are, however, three Kings of Leon albums on the removed list. And none remaining in the book. Look, I like Kings of Leon. But The Black Keys are better. It's not even close. Robert Dimery must have had a big thing for KoL in the 00s that he has since recovered from and regrets? (As an aside, why are all the albums removed from the list from the 2000s? Why doesn't Dimery ever remove older albums from the list? I could suggest plenty of candidates. Meanwhile some really good 2000s stuff has been removed.) Past griping about the list, The Black Keys two-man modern blues rock is just incredible. "Brothers" was their breakout after a decade of quietly making great albums, but I would place others above it. My favorite is "El Camino," followed by "Rubber Factory" and "Turn Blue." Each provides a slightly different spin on the blues rock format, but each just bops along from start to finish without a weak track. These guys are brilliant.

Two bits about the recording process from "Selling England By The Pound's" Wikipedia page are very meaningful in shaping my opinion of this music. "'Dancing with the Moonlit Knight' evolved from a number of short piano pieces composed by Gabriel, which was combined with some of Hackett's guitar figures to make up the track." ...and... "Two sections that were brought into the sessions from the start were a simple guitar riff that Hackett had been playing that the band liked and wanted to develop further and became 'I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe),' and three bits from Banks that he initially thought were for different songs but were instead used in the final arrangement of 'Firth of Fifth.' The third section developed early on became the opening of 'The Battle of Epping Forest,' and the band repeatedly performed these three pieces daily for a short while which Banks thought resulted in the latter song being too overworked." Just the latter song!? Almost all of it is overworked! And disjointed. Even more so than most progressive rock, I feel. Most songs had parts I liked. And most songs had parts I really didn't like. I had never heard early Genesis before, and I'm amazed by how different it is from their 80s output. I knew both Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins were in the group, but I had never known that Gabriel was the original lead singer and that I only know their music from after Collins took over as singer. I'm actually shocked that the only two Genesis albums on the list are from the Gabriel era, especially considering they had way more hits (and ones that seemed to stand the test of time) in the Collins era, especially on "Invisible Touch."

Along with Bill Haley & His Comets, were The Crickets the first rock and roll bands? This is apparently a much debated and unclear thing, with everyone offering a slightly different opinion of what counts as rock and roll and what counts as a rock and roll band. But regardless, Buddy Holly and the Crickets were instrumental in the development of early rock and roll. Holly and Haley deserve more credit than Elvis, who was primarily recording other people's songs. Elvis was more of a manufactured pop star. The Crickets and the Comets were more what we think of as rock bands, usually writing their own songs. It's not really my thing, but "Chirping Crickets" gets an extra star for historical significance.

I kept liking "Rattus Norvegicus" more than I was expecting to. Just as it would try to drive me away, it would pull me back in. But in the end, the overuse of Hammond organ (sometimes it actually worked well with their sound, but there was too much of it) and finally "Peaches" overwhelmed the more interesting content. We all know there are much better songs about actual peaches.

“There’s Always Tomorrow” painfully slowed things down and made me worried for the rest, but overall Paul Revere & The Raiders’ “Midnight Ride” is much more like the opener, “Kicks.” I think it's the Monkees version of “Stepping Stone” that I recall, but that’s a great song and glad to hear the original.

At least it was actually short. Couldn't take another \"69 Love Songs.\"

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I think it helps to really sink "Down in a Hole" to get the most out of Alice In Chains. If you really let yourself wallow with it, "Dirt" will absorb you into it. Yeah, AiC are some long-haired guys in combat boots sharing their depression and addiction. But they share it courageously and intensely. It's raw. It's powerful. They were pretty tortured, especially lead singer Layne Staley, but he fought it. You can read about the fight. Or you can just hear that fight here. There are some gems on "Dirt," especially "Rain When I Die" and "Would?" But Alice In Chains' best work is actually on their acoustic EPs "Sap" and "Jar of Flies." Those projects led to primary songwriter and amazing guitarist Jerry Cantrell singing more, and Cantrell and Staley would develop a complimentary style with some harmonies that really stood out in the genre. It all culminated with their "MTV Unplugged" performance, often underrated but a total masterpiece. With AiC only getting one album on the 1001, it should have been that one.

The vocals hold it back a bit, but the snarling punk guitars and thrashing drums carry the Buzzcocks.

I know this is iconic and legendary. I know it's smooth and cool and sexy. But I just found it to be boring today. 🤷‍♂️

The variety of languages and styles makes Manu Chao stand out among world music. Chao has been called Latin alternative, but it’s interesting because he’s Spanish rather than from the new world. Despite his European origins, he brings a lot of Latin influence into his music, along with a melange of other styles. I don’t always enjoy his voice, but the mix of styles is pretty cool.

When I hear "No More Mr. Nice Guy," a classic rock radio staple, I never remember that it's Alice Cooper. I think that's because for the most part, Alice Cooper's best-known music doesn't give me Alice Cooper vibes. At least, solo Alice Cooper vibes? Because Alice Cooper was the band name before Vincent Furnier became Alice Cooper himself and became a solo act (that of course had a backing/touring band). It's a bit confusing. But just as confusing is the music that came out of band that helped to create shock rock and developed a controversial on-stage persona. A lot of "Billion Dollar Babies" sounds like pretty mainstream 70s rock. And some of it sounds like it belongs in a musical. I don't see the image of the fully costumed, make-up caked character of Alice Cooper in my head until part way through the folky "Generation Landslide," where the snarly darkness first comes out. And that's seven tracks in. "I Love the Dead" come last and finally cements that image in my mind, but most of the album just doesn't fit my expectation and stereotype when I hear "Alice Cooper."

It certainly was a "Bizarre Ride" in the Pharcyde's debut. Apparently not the first bizarre ride they had been on though? Mixed in with some quality hip hop were some peculiar choices both in songs and skits. "4 Better or 4 Worse" felt like a skit mixed with a song, and to very odd effect. "Quinton's on the Way" was another outlandish skit. I guess we are supposed to be on an unconventional odyssey, though. What is the origin of skit interludes on hip hop albums anyway? It's an intriguing part of the subculture that is really only part of hip hop and R&B as far as I know. At the end of the journey, the Pharcyde produced some good work, but I would definitely rank them below their contemporaries like De La Soul, Tribe Called Quest, and others. Their weirdness and lewdness mixed with a flow and funk that probably inspired some strange departures from the alternative hip hop core in the years to come.

Is Yeezus a character or persona that Kanye is taking on, ala Bowie's Ziggy Stardust or Thin White Duke? There seem to be conflicting reports. But either way, it is strange to think about such personas in light of Ye's mental health struggles. Regardless, "Yeezus" was a brash attempt by West to defy expectations and genres and yadda yadda yadda... "On Sight" grabs you right away. It's different. It's interesting. Kanye's flow is great as always. But the content disturbs. The interlude is weird. And then the novelty of the blips wears out at the end. "Black Skinhead" is another attention-grabber, another fresh sound. And while it may at first seem like it's just brash and doesn't really mean much, in the context of Ye's recent antics I wondered the whole time why it was called "Black Skinhead" and whether hints of his coming anti-semitism would be found in the song. People thought it was brilliant at the time though. Jack White even covered it (which is weird). "I Am a God" then launches the concept into a new stratusphere. It's a good thing I read about the Yeezus character/persona/whatever before getting to this track, because listening to this in 2023 after the year West has had would make me uncomforta... actually no wait this still makes me uncomfortable. But it's actually just supposed to be empowering for people? That everyone is a god, not just Kanye/Yeezus/Ye? "New Slaves" then follows up the god complex with some brilliant commentary, and all of this writing and unique sound and production leaves you a little in awe of what West is attempting here, at the very least. Then again, it seems each track has around 10 listed writers and 4+ producers, so how much of it is actually West and how much is the assembled team? It just goes downhill in a mess of production from there, and the album combined with the Wikipedia page breaking it down left me with a headache. The tracks descend into excessive lewdness and seem like a scattered patchwork, with several songs suddenly transforming or interjecting randomness that doesn't fit. And that totally tracks with the description of how this album was produced. But that didn't stop critics from throwing themselves at it with hilarious attempts to explain it's brilliance. Analyses of the album as a whole and individual songs are all over the place but for their common refrains of brilliant, opus, gripping, and even "high-art." But most amusingly, Pitchfork readers voted it both Most Overrated Album of 2013 as well as Most Underrated Album of 2013. My vote is for overrated.

"Oedipus Schmoedipus" is tolerable as background until "It's Business As Usual." Almost turned it off then and there. Like ok, so this is supposed to be a movie soundtrack to a nonexistent movie? But the listener has been given no clue what the movie is about before the creepiness of "It's Business As Usual" sets in. And then the abrupt transition to "Miles" made what would have been a perfectly fine cover of a Miles Davis song seem weird. Did this movie have some kind of story in Barry Adamson's head? It's a rhetorical question. I don't actually want to know. And definitely don't want to watch that movie.

The Battle of Trafalgar was a British naval victory against Napoleon's France and their Spanish allies. Trafalgar Square in London is named after that seafaring triumph. I guess maybe Maurice Gibb lived near Trafalgar Square, though I couldn't find any explanation of the meaning behind the song "Trafalgar." The Battle of Trafalgar is pretty interesting. The album "Trafalgar" is not interesting. So instead, let's review the Battle of Trafalgar. Napoleon wanted to invade Britain. So he teamed up with Spain and sent their armadas after the English Channel. Invading Russia may have been the mistake that doomed Napoleon, but attempts to invade Britain did not work out so well either. On paper, the French had the superior force. But it was the bold tactic of British commander Horatio Nelson to charge right in and split the Spanish and French fleets. Even though French admiral Villeneuve had worried they might attempt this tactic, he still didn't plan for it. I'll give that decision ⭐️. Nelson was shot by a French sharpshooter during the ensuing battle, so I'll give him only ⭐️⭐️ due to the dying. But posthumously he gets ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ and an eternal role as a British icon and namesake. The British victory gave them the crown of best navy in the world, and helped set the course for British imperial dominance of the 19th century. I've never been much into naval history, but reading the synopsis of the Battle of Trafalgar and falling down the Wikipedia naval rabbit hole was pretty exciting. Navies and sea battles are a bit slow, but maybe the summaries are quicker and more interesting than the Master & Commander approach. Oh, and the album! "Odessa" introduced me to pre-disco Bee Gees, and I was unimpressed. "Trafalgar" is the only other Bee Gees entry on the list, and it is also pre-disco. I remain deeply unimpressed and bored. I should have just stopped at "Somebody Stop the Music." When the artist implores you to stop listening, maybe you should heed that call. Instead I made it far enough to discover that of all the Bee Gees voices that I dislike, I dislike Robin's voice the most. It makes me want to stop the music. But I made it all the way to Waterloo. Was this just a concept album about Napoleon's biggest humiliations?

I felt like I was actually in a small, smokey club listening to Sam Cooke, and half the time he was looking right at me.

"That Lady" is a great way to start an album, but "3 + 3" doesn't really keep up the energy or momentum. The standouts after "That Lady" were the covers of "Listen to the Music" and "Summer Breeze." The latter grabbed my attention quickly (in part because I have a soft spot for the song due to the remix from drum 'n' bass DJ Aphrodite), but I really like the guitars on the Isley Brothers version. However, the song didn't quite hold it's early momentum through to the end, much like this album as a whole.

There's a girl right there! She's on the cover! And then she sings! On almost all the songs! Everything Including the Girl? This is apparently "sophisti-pop." Sophisti-pop blends elements of jazz, soul, and pop, using electronic keyboards, synthesizers and polished arrangements. And saxophone, Wikipedia! Corny ass saxophone! It's described as mellow, romantic, and atmospheric - the romantic atmosphere of 80s may have seems misty and mysterious, but that mist was just a cloud of hairspray. This is also the same genre and corner of British history that gave us Blue Nile, which I look back on unfondly. Gotta make sure I get this review in and go back and review Roxy Music so sophisti-pop can replace rock and roll (somehow?) on my 1001 summary list of least favorite genres... and, oh! We listened to an Everything But the Girl album from '96... but I never wrote the review. Did I like it? At least more than this one? Now I have to go back and listen to it, I guess. And I've just remembered that they did "and I miss you like the deserts miss the rain," which is a banger, so I guess sophisti-pop's not all bad?

What is this particular British vocal style called? So I can put a name to my hatred. Is it just called "the Morrissey?" The Mekons were punk before this album? I feel so bad for all of their fans in 1985 getting excited for a new punk album and dropping the needle onto this turd cake instead. However, taking the time to seek out some of the previous stuff, it was pretty weird. So who knows. But the lead singer didn't sing like that before this album. There were a few tolerable songs on the back half. "Abernant" and "Last Dance," I think. It finally started to feel like some the alt country influence around those parts, particularly the violins on "Last Dance."

Gabriel almost lost me right off the bat with "Moribund the Burgermeister." This self-titled album was saved by "Solsbury Hill," which holds up well, but after that nothing really stands out. The division between early-Genesis Gabriel-led prog rock and later-Genesis Collins-led pop rock is clearly carried over into Gabriel's solo work, but even as a fan of 70s prog "Peter Gabriel" doesn't deliver as a full album.

Two underwhelming prog albums in a row with "Close to the Edge" following "Peter Gabriel." Yes has much better work than "Close to the Edge." I'm sure the title track is a brilliant literary work of poetry, but it's 18 minute "Siddhartha" and "Lord of the Rings" inspired meanderings are lost on me. It might have been lost on the band, too? Apparently the writing and recording process was a bit of a mess, and it eventually drove the drummer away from the band. Prog is a weird genre. There are a lot of elements of it I like, when done well. (Or done to my taste?) How do you make a long, meandering rock song rise and fall, sink and swell, shift and then return, without it feeling disjointed? I can't answer that, but I know it when I hear it. And this ain't it.

I followed up Grandmaster Flash’s pioneering of scratching and sampling with perhaps the peak with DJ Shadow’s “Endtroducing…” It’s really cool what Shadow was able to do with nothing but a collection of samples, but the collage lacks heart and soul too much of the time.

Sometimes Jonathan Richman’s voice works with the sludgy garage rock. But then there’s stuff like “Girl Friend,” which is terrible.

I've dug Christine and Queens since I heard "5 Dollars" on the radio back when this came out. As a whole, the album is rarely as good as that song. It's good, and very listenable, but doesn't seem to stand out as being one of the elite pop albums of the last decade. I was surprised to find this on the list.

Back in 2005 I remember thinking maybe, just maybe, Sufjan Stevens was serious about doing a concept album for each of the 50 states. I mean, he had already knocked out "Michigan" and "Come on and Feel the Illinoise," plus an album in between, in three years. It would take him the rest of his life/career, but it wasn't impossible? It turns out he was never serious about that. But maybe he could have done it? Because he's been periodically crazy productive since 2005, going quiet then releasing double or quintuple Christmas albums, going quiet then reinventing his sound with electronic or new age influences. I stopped following him after "Illinoise," but his career seems to have taken some wild twists and turns. Perhaps I'll have to check some of it out. In part because I enjoyed "Illinoise" more than I thought I was going to. I remembered it as being very mellow. Almost too mellow. But there's actually a decent mix, and the album kept me engaged and kept its momentum flowing more than I expected. Stevens is a talented songwriter and musician, and it might be interesting to see how his style has evolved and morphed over the years.

John Lee Hooker is a blues legend whose career started before anyone else on the 1001, and it’s pretty cool that his late career work like “The Healer” gets representation here, won Grammys, and helped new generations find the blues.

The bookends ("My My, Hey Hey" and "Hey Hey, My My") are great, and some of my favorite Neil Young songs. I also just love the concept of doing that on an album. However, there's not much to support them in between. My least favorite Neil Young is the stuff that's a bit too folky and slow and wallowy. And that's most of this album. I usually think of Young as a good lyricist, but "Thrasher" left me scratching my head. A little too on the nose and cringey. And why is he wondering how he lost his friends!? He "got bored and left them there!" "Welfare Mothers" was another weird one that didn't work for me. "Powderfinger" and "Sedan Delivery" were the closest the rest of the album got to my preferred version of Neil. Rust may be always awake, but I'm not sure I was for the middle of this album.

"Colour By Numbers" was released 40 years ago. "Aladdin Sane" came out 50 years ago next week. Boy George and David Bowie cultivated androgynous makeup wearing personas in the 70s and 80s. Yet here we are, in 2023, with states passing laws targeting drag shows that are so restrictive they seem like they would prevent any performance by Culture Club or David Bowie, let alone trans performers like Laura Jane Grace of Against Me! or Rainbow Kitten Surprise's Ela Melo. If the 80s could handle Boy George (though I'm sure acceptance of Boy George was far from universal and I'm sure he experienced intolerance and discrimination), why have we not progressed more in the last 40 years? While I fully support Boy George's freedom of expression, I can't stand this album. "Colour By Numbers" is filled with incredibly repetitive songs. Each track is almost all chorus, with 4-5 words repeated until you can't help but hit the skip button. If the music behind the lyrics stood out that would be one thing, but there's nothing here to maintain interest in.

When I finished this album, it left me thinking about the band Priests, so I went and listened again to "Nothing Feels Natural," which I love every time I come back to. I didn't realize/remember it at the time, but last time we listened to Sonic Youth I had the exact same reaction. ("E.V.O.L." album #398) I didn't exactly love "E.V.O.L.," but "Goo" reminded me of what I love about Sonic Youth. At the time, I said that "'E.V.O.L.' wanders off and gets lost in the abyss a bit too often. When it's focused its phenomenal, but it can't maintain those highs. It doesn't need to be focused all the time, but there were too many extended segments of bizarre background noise or weird feedback." "Goo" still had tangents of feedback and noise, but it felt more restrained and purposeful. This is Sonic Youth near their best, even in spite of the ending of "Mildred Pierce." Apparently I'm not the only one who hears Sonic Youth in Priests' sound, as several reviews of their albums also mention that influence. "Goo" is great, but I would give Priests' "Nothing Feels Natural" the edge, and one additional star.

I got pulled out of the trip hop vibe trying to figure out whether the lyric to “Radio” was talking about noodles or doodles and what they had to do with “sending those signals.” It was apparently just “those digital signals,” but with some kind of effect on it that made it sound strange. Same thing on another line in that repetitive song. There are some great vocals and samples on “Since I Left You,” but they are often either overused and repetitive, or have a stop/start disruption that hurts the flow of the song.

I love how Tori uses her voice and sparse piano arrangements. The meter and delivery are uneven and unpredictable, keeping you off-balance but wanting more.

I guess I've gone back-and-forth on Metallica a lot. I listened to them a fair bit in the late 2000s, but hadn't touched it in 20 years. Then early in the 1001 journey, I was thinking about how music tastes could change over time, and was curious to go back and listened to some Metallica to see if I felt the same way about it as I used to. At that time I determined that I didn't like it as much as I used to. But then less than a week later the generator gifted us with Anthrax, which was clearly far worse heavy metal. Then we got Megadeth just a few weeks later, and maybe those experiences helped me understand the value of Metallica. A year later we listened to Metallica's self-titled "Black" album, and I forgot to write a review. I think I liked it, but still maybe not the way I used to. But "Master of Puppets" is the Metallica that I was looking for the whole time. This album and "Ride the Lightning" were my favorites. With the black album and their later work, I don't like the way James Hetfield uses his voice as much. Here the vocals are raw and intense, and don't try to be anything else. The drums are pounding, the guitars thrash. "Battery" is great, and then the beginning of the title track is a little lackluster, but by the time the solo half-way through "Master of Puppets" hits the band is firing on all cylinders. From there it's a sprint to the finish. It can all sound too similar at times, but it's broken up by amazing guitar solos, and the whole thing is wrapped up at track 8 before it wears out its welcome. I'll have to go check out "Ride the Lightning" again, and I guess "Metallica" too so I can fill in that missing review.

I got to learn about conga drums. Some of it sounded Latin. Some of it sounded African. That is all.

A lot of words have Latin roots, which can aid in understanding their meaning. For instance, 'bene' means good. Y'know, like benefactor, benign, beneficial, etc.? John Martyn's "One World" is not bene-anything. And 'muff' doesn't seem to be a Latin root. Muffin, muffaletta, muffed... these words start the same but have very different meanings. Even 'muff' itself has multiple different meanings. So which one is "Big Muff" about!? Is it about a hand warmer? A fumble? Or something else? Perhaps this song is a companion piece to Primus' "Wynona's Big Brown Beaver?" As with the first John Martyn album we reviewed, this one started out pretty terrible. And even the legendarily large muff couldn't fully reverse that. Martyn seems to have no style of his own, dabbling here and there in different genres and styles, with ever-changing vocals. His career may have gone all over the place, but I hope it doesn't go onto the list for a third time.

The 1919 Paris Peace Conference heralded the end of WWI, and perhaps eventually precipitated the rise of the Nazis in Germany. But in 1919, in Paris, in that moment, the town (and Europe) were surely partying. There is no partying to be found on John Cale's "Paris 1919." After boring us all on the first track, he follows it up by declaring "Hanky Panky nohow." I don't think he is refusing to go down to the banks of the Hanky Panky. I think he's against the other kind of hanky panky. (Jeez, that really is the lamest euphemism there is.) But as many have sang throughout the years, "My baby does the hanky panky." (Best delivered in Sylvan Esso's "Coffee." Does Cale have no baby? No one to share the hanky panky with? I'd be willing to bet there was quite a bit of hanky panky in Paris in 1919, launching their own little baby boom perfectly timed to send those babies off to the sequel. Elsewhere Cale continued to bore, with a minor exception on "Macbeth," though that seemed like it didn't fit and couldn't have been recorded with the rest. I'd rather watch a loop of the movie scene that inspired the Pixies' "Debaser" line "un chien andalusia" then listen to John Cale's "Andalusia" or any of the rest of this album. "Antarctica" didn't start at the last track - I felt frozen by boredom from the start.

"What's Going On" is iconic, but I actually prefer "Mercy, Mercy, Me." Overall, this album packs such a strong statement, and that message stands as its legacy and warrants its inclusion here, even despite a few weaker tracks and a bit too much praise and gospel for my taste.

This is our 3rd Elvis Costello album. There are still 3 more to go. Album sales are not everything by any means, but Elvis Costello's top-selling album (it's not this one) is the 4,372nd best-selling album of all-time. I don't hate all of this. But I do hate "Shabby Doll." And a few others. I am not looking forward to 3 more Elvis Costello albums. Next new edition, instead of dropping another recently added 2000s album, maybe try dropping an Elvis Costello album? Or a Leonard Cohen album?

Another big muff! Who's muff is bigger, Mudhoney or John Martyn?? I wanted to learn more about Mudhoney's muff, and in doing so I fell down a Wikipedia rabbit hole. But it turns out, rather than beavers and pie, I learned a lot about distortion pedals. Because the Univox Super-Fuzz and the Electro-Harmonix Big Muff Pi (π) were pedals that were instrumental (get it?) in shaping Mudhoney's sound. Ok, I guess I did learn about π. But not pie. It was pretty cool to learn about how the technology for distorting and dirtying a guitar's sound evolved over time, from deliberately misused and broken amps to fuzzboxes that do some kind of science-y stuff to sound waves that I don't fully understand. I may not understand just how the fuzzbox distorts those sound waves, but I do love the sound it creates. My formative music-appreciating years were in the early 90s, so grunge and its reliance on fuzzy, growling, and gritty guitars have a warm place in my heart. And grunge's early 90s boom is thanks to the groundwork laid by Mudhoney, Green River, and Soundgarden in the early days of Sub Pop Records. For as influential as early Sub Pop was in shaping that genre, it's surprising that the 1001 has only 2 Mudhoney albums and the only Soundgarden album is their most mainstream major record release. There would be no Nirvana without Green River and Mudhoney. There would be no Pearl Jam without Green River and Mudhoney. But beyond Nirvana, grunge doesn't get enough love on the 1001. Not British enough, I suppose. Mudhoney isn't my favorite grunge, but "Superfuzz Bigmuff" played a crucial role in launching Sub Pop and the genre to national attention.

Another 3-in-1 hip hop review, this time tracing the thread from N.W.A.’s “Straight Outta Compton” through Ice T’s “OG Original Gangster” to Dr. Dre’s “The Chronic.” There are a lot of albums that “changed” hip hop, and “Straight Outta Compton” may be peak among them. Peak for impact, not peak for quality. They may not have created gangsta rap, but N.W.A. took it mainstream with their platinum hit album, forcing America to come to terms with life in inner city minority neighborhoods like Compton and popularizing the use of the n-word in hip hop. Incredibly impactful, but musically it’s stuck in 80s hip hop without signs of evolving. That evolution wasn’t necessarily needed though - by far the best part of the album is when Dr. Dre emerges with “Express Yourself.” It’s old school, it’s not violent or profane, and it shows that style can work in a timeless way. As for the rest, Ice Cube’s rapping is pretty solid, whereas MC Ren makes no real impact and Easy E’s nasally rapping is the worst part of the album. On the other hand, Ice T is a better rapper than anyone in N.W.A. (except maybe Dr. Dre, who was mostly limited to small features outside of “Express Yourself”). Ice T is such an OG, he had to tell the rest of America what OG means. He didn’t create the term, any more than he created gangsta rap, but helped bring it to the masses. “OG Original Gangster” is at once a coda for the early days of hip hop and a declaration that gangsta rap would dominate the next decade. The production and musicality is much better than “Straight Outta Compton” (though in a style that was firmly on its way out), and T’s rapping also stood above other MCs. Ice T may be the OG, but as an OG, he’s older and wiser and better able to reflect on where they’ve been and where they’re going. While those who followed in his footsteps often succumbed to the gangsta life, Ice T emerged on the other side with a career in film and TV, and is today probably more known for his role on Law & Order SVU than for his rap music. After Ice T and N.W.A. opened the door, Dr. Dre left N.W.A. and began a solo and rapping career that would fully establish West Coast gangsta rap as -the- rap genre of the 90s. “The Chronic” presented a serious evolution in sound from “Straight Outta Compton” or “OG Original Gangsta.” The themes remained the same, but the edge got even harder and the early trappings and influences of hip hop faded away. My group member pretentious-ass wrote (4 years ago, when I was supposed to review this) that “The Chronic killed hip-hop.” And I think in a lot of ways he’s right. Something different emerged from it, but it was something far removed from Ice T, N.W.A., and everything before it. West Coast gangsta rap after “The Chronic” did seem to become all-consuming, sucking the oxygen away from alternative hip hop and any other style.

Again, it was a mistake to try to review 4 of the 5 Tom Waits albums in one day. But a fascinating one to save for last. I don’t like “Nighthawks at the Diner,” but I am intrigued by it. Waits’ vocals early in his career are not as over-the-top gravelly as on other albums we listened to, but that doesn’t mean I like it. It’s a concept album of a sort? It was recorded live, so it’s kind of a live album? I’ve lamented concept albums, flip-flopped on live albums, but “Nighthawks at the Diner” is unique and challenges my views about both of those things. Half stand-up, half lounge performance, it delivered on a concept. Recording a faux live performance live scrambles any notions of how a record should be made.

So rich and warm and full.

Unlike others, I did not appreciate Nico with Velvet Underground. In fact, I thought she nearly ruined that album. On "Chelsea Girl," despite an all-star cadre of writers and musicians supporting, Nico's voice (along with the flute she never wanted) are free to ruin this whole thing. English is her second language, so maybe she should be cut a break? "These Days" is the only song that's even tolerable for me, and I think that's mainly due to my associating it with perfect placement in "The Royal Tenenbaums."

“I don’t like his voice,” my four year old whined. “He sounds like a bad guy.” Leonard Cohen is likely not actually a cartoon villain in a kids movie. But he sure sounds like one. I think this was the first Leonard Cohen album I have managed to power all the way through. It is the first one I've written the review for, at least. And now that we have finally reached the 5th and final undeserved Cohen album on the list, I will go back and give the others the same solitary-star treatment as this one. However, (though he's much better than Cohen, at least) there are still 5 more Dylan albums to go.

Following "What's Going On" just 8 albums later, our second dose of Marvin Gaye is actually more appealing to me musically. It never hits the heights of "What's Going On" or "Mercy, Mercy Me," but the album is overall more even and less gospel-y. Not nearly the cultural impact, though.

I've not been a fan of much of the heavy metal on the list. Iron Maiden is a pretty fun listen though.

I tire of ⭐️ albums that I can't justify being included on this list. The only tolerable parts of "Penthouse and Pavement" are the funkier bits, but even those aren't enough to save the rest from oblivion. To counteract the bleakness of the single-star stinkers, I'm going to start adding a five-star review for an album that ought to have the offender's spot. Today we'll keep it heaven-related, and open with... Temple of the Dog - Temple of the Dog (1991) I've already lamented that 90s Seattle is under-represented on the 1001, and we'll come back to that idea when we finally get Pearl Jam's "Ten." But Temple of the Dog holds an amazing place in the history of the Seattle scene. Conceived by Soundgarden's Chris Cornell as a tribute to Andrew Wood of Mother Love Bone following his death, Cornell brought together Wood's former bandmates Mike McCready and Stone Gossard to create a pre-supergroup. Soundgarden had yet to hit it big, and Pearl Jam was still yet to form. Eddie Vedder was in town to audition for McCready and Gossard's new band and was brought into the studio for the TotD recording sessions. The rest, as they say, is history. Within a couple years, Cornell and Vedder would be two of the most talked about frontmen in rock, and to this day they are my two favorite rock singers. To have them together on TotD? Its transcendent. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

On the cover of The Divine Comedy’s “Casanova,” Neil Hannon looks like Thom Yorke having some kind of hipster crisis. Start listening though, and you won’t mistake Hannon’s cringy chamber pop bombastics for Radiohead.

Not listening too closely to The Ramones' self-titled debut is rewarding. For an album credited with pioneering a genre, it doesn't feel like a first attempt. It feels like a carefully crafted embodiment of years of genre-refining tinkering, much more like the most radio-friendly Green Day. It's weird to think about how similar in many ways 1976 and 2006 punk are. But then again, the Ramones may get too much credit for punk. Where is the line between the proto-punk of the MC5, New York Dolls, and Stooges becomes regular-punk? And don't listen to closely, or "The Ramones" loses some of its luster on account of lyrics too desperate to push boundaries and offend (see flirtations with Nazi imagery just to ruffle feathers) as well as song structures and chord progressions that make several songs sound near-identical.

Every Good Boy Does Fine Every Good Boy Deserves Favour Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge Every Good Boy Deserves Food Every Girl Buys Designer Fashions Every Good Bear Deserves Fish Every Good Boy Deserves Fruit Every Good Boy Deserves Fun Every Good Bird Does Fly Every Good Boy Deserves Football Empty Garbage Before Dad Flips Elvis Goes Belly Dancing Fridays Every Green Bus Drives Fast Elephants Get Big Dirty Feet Every Good Burger Deserves Fries Elvis's Guitar Broke Down Friday Even George Bush Drives Fast Every Girl Buys Designer Flip Flops Every Girl Bakes Delicious Fudge Eat Good Bread Dear Father Ernie Gave Bert Dead Frogs Elephants Go Bouncing Down Freeways Apparently no one can agree on one mnemonic for the lines of the treble clef, as all of the above (and probably more) exist. Nice to see that they don't all offer nice things only to good boys. But girls can just buy and bake things? I won't hold the sexism of treble clef mnemonics against Mudhoney.

In my The Fall album review tradition, let's turn to Wikipedia's analysis - The Fall's "Live At The Witch Trials" "is not, despite its title, a live album." I'm sorry, is there an actual live music venue called The Witch Trials? I'd be intrigued, but not sure whether I'd see a show there. I wouldn't see The Fall there, that's for sure. As with their other two albums on the list, Mark Smith's voice ruins The Fall. The album is off-kilter and in your face, but all of that is sabotaged by the way Smith ends every line with an obnoxious flourish or exaggerated accent.

"Daydream Nation" really solidifies Sonic Youth's role in shifting the direction of rock music. As a little kid in the 80s, the indie and alternative rock of that decade was mostly missed. But without Sonic Youth and their contemporaries, the music I loved in the 90s never would have happened. They saved us from hair metal and yacht rock. Thank you Thurston and Kim.

That was surprisingly underwhelming.

On “Hotel California,” I said that The Eagles are best when they hit that classic rock groove. Which they do on “Witchy Woman.” But they only do it there. “Take It Easy” and “Peaceful Easy Feeling” are the slow country rock ballads that The Eagles did well and made their name on, but I need more “Witchy Woman.” Like many classic rock bands on the list, they're better as a greatest hits compilation.

Calling your debut album “Signing Off” isn’t really a sign of a long career to come. But they weren’t signing off. They’re still going nearly 50 years and 50 charting singles in the UK, though they’ve split into two competing versions of UB40. But like most Americans I only know them from “Red, Red Wine” and their cover of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Those are cheesy but fun, while “Signing Off” is pretty chill and as a result sort of boring for reggae music. “Burden of Shame” is perhaps the most interesting track, in spite of (or maybe because of) the weird similarity to Van Morrison’s “Moondance.” Weirdest is the “Strange Fruit” cover, which is just odd in the chill boppy reggae style. As long as we’re talking about non-Jamaican artists adopting the reggae style, two notable ones that blended reggae with other styles are Matisyahu and Sublime. I thought Matisyahu’s Orthodox/Hasidic Judaism hip-hop/reggae blending was interesting early in his career, but it’s Sublime’s ska/punk/reggae combo that is crazy to leave off the 1001. Luckily someone has submitted it as their mission completed user album. Excited for those to start soon - most are more interesting than UB40’s non-hits.

Alas, I am not a true believer. But it's the genre, not Nanci Griffith. And in fact, while I generally dislike country music, Griffith’s style is more palatable than most popular country. Maybe it’s her folk roots. Maybe it’s that this mid-80s album came out just before country music took a turn towards pop and showiness and derivative lyrics.

I vaguely knew that Boston was some classic classic rock. But I'm not sure I could have correctly identified a Boston song? I had a similar experience with Steely Dan, and it's great to be able to connect a name to these classic rock favorites. With Steely Dan, it was only 3 songs. But "Boston" was like Fleetwood Mac's "Rumors." I knew almost all of these songs! I had definitely never realized how big Boston was, or that this was, at the time, the best-selling debut album ever (it has only been passed by 5 others since then). Not only were these songs familiar, they feel timeless. And hearing them all in one place somehow made each track stronger, knowing that they weren't one or two hits amongst more forgettable material, but rather a start to finish blitz of some of the purest classic rock to exist.

Parody? Loving homage? Superlative winners of "Born in the Wrong Decade?" Whatever the Darkness' inspiration, there are a lot of things that they nailed on "Permission to Land." Most notably, "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" is timeless and perfectly captures what they were going for. There are a couple other decent songs, but most of the album is marred by overindulgence. Especially vocal overindulgence. Justin Hawkins has the talent and range to pull it off, but he lacks restraint, screaming and wailing where it doesn't fit.

The Beach Boys are enjoyable when pioneering the surf rock sound with lots of harmonies. This album was pretty short on both of those things.

Unless you're Lizzo or Ron Burgundy or a classical orchestra, the flute is not a cool instrument. Its presence on several "Aqualung" songs more than undid any of the positives on this album.

Mick Jagger thought "Teenage Head" was as good as "Sticky Fingers." It was not. It was not even good enough to be remembered and preserved by the overlords at Amazon Music. I found a few of the tracks from the original album, and listened to a few other Flamin' Groovies tunes. They're fine, but they're nowhere near the Stones at their best.

"All Things Must Pass." Some of them just take a long time to pass. Like gallstones. Or kids who skip class. Or this 23-track album. George Harrison might be a legend, but it's pretty rare in my experience that a double- or triple-album really needs to be that long. Inevitably there are plenty of filler songs that would have been better off cut. "My Sweet Lord" and "What is Life" are classics on par with Harrison's best Beatles' tunes, but there is not much else here that captures the magic.

The Byrds were seemingly at their best early in their career when they were covering Dylan, though Gene Clark’s early originals were pretty good too. “Fifth Dimension” sees the Byrds moving on from Clark, but he still has writing credits on “Eight Miles High,” which is the best song on the album. Clark may have only worked in the context of the Byrds though, because I really didn’t care for his solo album.

I remain unsatisfied, so I guess Red Snapper failed their aim. What’s more unsatisfying - when something is straight up no good? Or when something has a lot of potential that it fails to live up to? “Our Aim is to Satisfy” falls into the latter, and I think that’s worse.

I believe the culturally sensitive term is "astronaut?" Though spaceman was often used to refer to an extra-terrestrial arriving on an unidentified flying object. Or Spaceman Spiff, an icon of interplanetary investigation. Spaceman is the leader in soft serve and frozen beverage machine technology and design. But don't go calling Buzz Aldrin a "spaceman," or he'll punch you in the face. There weren't even 3 spacemen in Spacemen 3. There were 2. And some other, either Earthling or spacemen, who played with them. Some of Spacemen 3 is 3-worthy. Some is 1 worthy. Their lack of 3 actual spacemen cements the 2.

Thank goodness the lights were on, or this planetarium show soundtrack would have put me to sleep. It is appropriately space-y and dreamy and hypnotizing, but it doesn't feel timeless to me. It feels very 80s (so still ahead of its time?), and perhaps could have been the soundtrack to a cheesy 80s sci-fi movie that would look really dated today, about a mission to discover some aliens that turned out to use too much hairspray. I can see some distant inspiration here for something like the "TRON: Legacy" soundtrack, but if the two are the same genre then the symphonic and soaring "TRON" blows "Oxygène" away.

An interesting mix of classical, jazz, and tango makes Astor Piazzolla & Gary Burton’s “The New Tango” an unusual addition to the list. I found it pretty intriguing, as someone who doesn’t seek out any of those genres. It’s frequently lovely, sometimes rousing and exciting, but at times suffers from too much bandoneon (the accordion-like instrument).

I'm gonna have to break with the group on this one. I think "Ray of Light" absolutely deserves to be on the list, and beyond belonging is actually an album I quite enjoy and give much credit to. I previously remarked about how I thought "Like a Prayer" was not the right Madonna album for the list, but not so here. As a whole, this might be the Madonna album I like best (that I've heard). The decision to make a hard shift to electronica was a bold move by a pop star as big as Madonna. I think in 2023 we forget a bit how big she really was. She is the best selling female artist of all time, in part due to longevity. She was an incredibly influential cultural icon. And yet, nearly two decades into her career, she tried something new. Electronica was pretty underground in the 90s, but a lot of music historians point to this album's role in helping push it more into the mainstream. Many critics regard it as Madonna's best album, so of all the embarrassing albums on the 1001, the most critically acclaimed album by the greatest selling female artist of all time doesn't seem to fit in that category? But regardless of its cultural impact, I actually found that I quite like the album. None of the elements in the album are groundbreaking in their own right (though Madonna had worked to improve her otherwise pedestrian vocals), but it was that the pop icon was delving into electronica, trip hop, trance, and psychedelic Eastern music make it special. Madonna should be commended for the choice to break away from traditional pop producers she had worked with like Babyface, and instead trust William Orbit to guide her in this new direction. Madonna was already becoming, aside from her mainstream celebrity, a bit of a club icon in the 90s. But "Ray of Light" cemented her ability to walk in both worlds.

Chill and relaxing, more consistently spacy than “Ladies and gentlemen…”

I love how the album generator website provides a summary of our listening habits. If Robert Dimery went through his own book on this website, I have no doubt that Britpop would be consistently on his Summary page's Favourite Genres. Sometimes Britpop is on my Worst Genres top three. But lately it has fallen off that list. Let's try to fix that by acknowledging that the only reason The Charlatans are on this list is because they are British.

I’m ready to testify! I’ve made a decision, and I’m not gonna choose a side - I’m gonna come right down in the middle on the MC5’s debut. Debuting with a live album is an interesting choice. The poor-quality recording fits the emerging punk ethos, and you can hear the evolution of punk out of surf rock and 60s pop rock on some of these MC5 songs. You can also hear the heavy classic rock riffs and wailing that suggest that the punk is not fully formed yet. You can hear some really unfortunate falsetto on the opening track. And in that opening intro, you can hear them drop a “m*****f*****” that was apparently quite controversial in 1969. MC5 deserve a lot of credit for being a bridge between styles and helping to shape the punk sound. But “Kick Out The Jams” on its own isn’t good enough. Maybe when they got into a studio and ditched the falsetto and whatever weird crap “Starship” was.

Filling in missing reviews brought me to a trio of Wu-Tang solo albums, best discussed together in a 3-in-1 review. Already having reviewed “Return to the 36 Chambers” and GZA’s “Liquid Swords,” how do these other Wu-Tang efforts hold up? While these are regarded as solo albums, the members’ first solo albums were all produced by RZA and each feature many Wu-Tang members. They even battled each other for RZA’s best beats - these are solo but Wu-Tang was still very much a collective. But they each have their own style that distinguishes them. Method Man’s “Tical” is my favorite of four solo albums - he brings the right amount of whimsy and fun to some otherwise hard-edged music, and it’s more about getting high than violence. He also keeps things concise - it’s much shorter than the other two, which have a large collection of decent tracks without hits. Raekwon’s “Only Built 4 Cuban Linx” is solid, but lacks the charm found on “Tical.” Ghostface Killah’s “Fishscale” is from later in his career - it's still filled with Wu-Tang cameos, but isn’t produced by RZA. I’m curious how it might compare to his solo debut, “Ironman” (which was RZA-produced). Ultimately, it doesn’t do it for me as much as the earlier Wu-Tang offerings. I do love how self-referential all the Wu-Tang members’ solo work is, though. RZA’s shaolin fixation still pops up, Method Man’s Tical concept (“taking into consideration all lives”) keeps popping up, Ghostface drops Iron Man references, and more - it’s all over, and it helps make it all feel very cohesive.

Simply Red is apparently “immaculately polished” adult contemporary music. I simply hate it. Would rather listen to an immaculately polished turd. Oh, sorry, then we got to “Holding Back the Years.” That song slaps. Doesn’t it? Is that the rare immaculately polished adult contemporary song. Or is it just that those hits were so ubiquitous on 80s radio that I’ve got a nostalgia itch it scratches? It’s a question I’ve found myself asking a lot with albums where the classic hits don’t live up to the rest of the work.

I don’t blame my group members for not being able to fully get into Soundgarden’s “Superunknown.” One even assumed my grungy curmudgeonness in the face of his criticism. But I think “Superunknown” is only Soundgarden’s third best album, despite its popularity, and the band occupies a weird place in Seattle’s early 90s grunge scene. Their roots are much more metal, which is clearer earlier in their career, and on the superior “Badmotorfinger.” After “Superunknown,” they got a bit grungier but in an unconventional way, on “Down on the Upside.” That’s the one I think I listened to the most back then. Chris Cornell has one of the best voices in the history of rock music, and “Down on the Upside” showcased it a bit better. For other great non-Soundgarden showcases of Cornell’s voice, Temple of the Dog offers something much more grunge, and Audioslave brings the hard rock. I’ve only checked out a little of Cornell’s solo work, though it's something I ought to revisit. So if “Superunknown” didn’t do it for you, I recommend trying something else from the Cornell catalog. As for “Superunknown” itself, “Black Hole Sun” was the can’t-escape-it hit. I can't help picturing the melting Barbie dolls from the music video when I hear it. But it’s my least favorite song on the album, and one of my least favorite Soundgarden songs. “Fell on Black Days,” “My Wave,” and “Day I Tried to Live” are much better. The album is overall too long, a problem that they would not fix on the follow-up. Trimming a few songs could make for a tighter package. “Superunknown” is part of a pretty epic year in music in 1994, but in the end it's not as strong as many of the others that year, or of their other output.

“The album received little critical notice and was a commercial failure, and the band split up a few months after its release.” Sounds perfectly worthy of a must-listen before I die. Oh, but it helped influence R.E.M., so… still I’m gonna defer to those original reviews after listening to this one.

It seems that every 2 years or so in the 1960s, Eric Clapton decided to take his illustrious talents in a new direction, first leaving the Yardbirds in pursuit of the blues, then leaving John Mayall to form the three-piece Cream. But for a guy with the ego of one of the greatest guitar players ever to live, and a racist, alcoholic, rapist to boot, maybe there is more to his inability to stick with a band for more than a couple albums. Speaking of Clapton's racism, it remains odd that he was so drawn to the blues music created by black Americans and rooted in a history of slavery and segregation. Though it seems many white Brits embraced and co-opted the blues while their country was trying to hold on to its empire of non-white colonies in the second half of the 20th century. But there is no sign of racism or support for colonization or vilification of immigrants from John Mayall. He just loved the blues and rock and roll, and in working with Eric Clapton was able to produce one of the best blues albums I've heard. And possibly had quite an eye for talent as well, with the Bluesbreakers also including John McVie on this album and Mick Fleetwood, Peter Green, and Mick Taylor on others. Perhaps Cream, Fleetwood Mac, and the best Rolling Stones albums would not exist without John Mayall? That may be just as impressive as this album.

Jimmy Smith's "Back at the Chicken Shack" should not be confused with Jimmie's Chicken Shack, which is not a jazz album or a drive-thru fried chicken establishment, but rather the one-hit wonder behind 1996's "High," off "Pushing the Salmanilla Envelope." Ok, yes, Jimmie's Chicken Shack is an awful band name. And, yes, "Pushing the Salmanilla Envelope" is a slightly humorous pun but also a terrible album name. Alright, and I'll give it to you, their hit song's constant refrain of "What does it take to get you high/ What will it take to get me high/ What does it take to get us high/ Whatever it takes to get you High" is pretty groan-inducing. But Jimmy Smith's entry on the list today made me think of JCS, and I went back for a listen and, not only did I remember much of the album well, I've gotta say I didn't hate it. I also didn't hate "Back at the Chicken Shack." It was decent jazz.

Bert Jansch’s self-titled solo album is perfectly adequate folk music. It was more enjoyable than the group effort of Pentangle, particularly on a few of the better tracks and the instrumentals.

Something definitely exploded. At first I wasn’t sure it was the blues, but it started to click on the third track, “Wail.” And appropriately named, because this blowing up of the blues does feature plentiful wailing, of both voices and instruments. If I judged “Now I Got Worry” solely off of that first detonation of noise, I would have missed out. The rest of the album settles into an eruption of punked-out rockabilly, carefully controlled chaos ignited by wails, howls, and bursts of frantic guitar.

The first four songs are inches away from birthing yacht rock and easy listening. Just add crooning vocals from a bearded guy with shaggy hair and shades. Then things took a random world music detour, before introducing a bit of strange space jazz. The weather report today calls for nothing heavy today, just some light jazz.

"Butterfly" by itself is pretty firmly in 1-star territory for me. The vocals are overly breathy, and it almost never feels fun or really grabs your attention. This album saw Carey move more into an R&B and hip hop influenced sound, and you can hear it in the basslines. But even though she worked with some producers known for fun and groovy hip hop, none of that is found here. These breathy vocals do little to show what Carey is capable of as a singer, but her earlier albums do that in spades. So even though "Butterfly" is completely undeserving of inclusion on this list, since her other work is ignored we'll add a star here, representative of the strength of her earlier work.

I am not a Depeche Mode fan. So maybe I'm not among the masses that this music is for. But unlike with "Violator," where the decent songs came later, "Music for the Masses" started off strong with "Never Let Me Down Again." That track is proof that Depeche Mode's style can work for me. Unfortunately, that is the exception rather than the rule. A few more tolerable tracks followed, but then just as I began to tire of Dave Gahan's baritone drone, "Little 15" brought everything crashing down. That song has a weird vibe, whether it is about a mother talking to her teenage son (Gahan's version) or a not necessarily sexual story about "a bored, middle-aged house wife trying to find a new lease on life through a young boy" (Martin Gore's explanation). "Music for the Masses" never got me back after that. It didn't help that I unknowingly kept going into the strangely varied instrumentals and totally out-of-place cover of "(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66" bonus tracks from a later digital release. Depeche Mode will only ever work via greatest hits for me.

After the first two tracks, I was about to say that "Grievous Angel" should be taken out to the California desert, doused with gasoline, and set ablaze. But then it got a little better, with some decent bluegrass moments, and I found out that the desert cremation routine was actually undertaken when a couple of Parsons' confidants stole his body from the Los Angeles airport following his death. So maybe that joke would be in poor taste? Parsons' story is certainly a turbulent one, and not just the events that followed his death. If he'd succumbed to his demons just two months later, Parsons would be a member of the infamous 27 Club. But listening to "Grievous Angel," I never would have guessed that his youth included his father's suicide two days before Christmas or his mother's death from cirrhosis on the day of his high school graduation. I never would have guessed that he was a trust-fund kid who's grandfather owned 1/3 of the citrus farms in Florida. I never would have guessed that he went to Harvard (well, only for a few months and likely only on his family's connections). I never would have guessed that he did many, many drugs with Keith Richards. Because there is no sign of that darkness and turmoil on "Grievous Angel." It's a pretty boring country and bluegrass album. Nothing particularly stands out. Nothing feels like "cosmic American music," as he dubbed his style that was allegedly a hybrid of country and rock.

“Hurt” introduced a whole new generation to the man in black, and there are some other great takes on unexpected songs on “The Man Comes Around.”

Before her debut as Fever Ray, Karin Dreijer was one half of the electronic duo The Knife. Their big claim to fame was the 2002 song "Heartbeats," which was covered soon after by José González. Both versions are amazing and memorable songs. Unfortunately, nothing on "Fever Ray" is quite so memorable. A lot of it feels like a Björk wanna-be. Out of the 8 albums from 2009 that have appeared on the 1001, half have been cut. For one, it again annoys that only 21st-century stuff ever gets removed. But second, here are some 2009 albums that I prefer and would rather got the shine... Neko Case - "Middle Cyclone" St. Vincent - "Actor" Phoenix - "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix" Florence and the Machine - "Lungs" Mumford and Sons - "Sigh No More" Passion Pit - "Manners" Decemberists - "Hazards of Love" And go check out any version of "Heartbeats" if you don't know it.

Hot take: Lupe Fiasco > Kanye West I mean, not even now after West's continuous descent. When they were both breaking in during the mid 2000s, and comparing their debut albums, Fiasco was better. I think West's early work is really good. But "Lupe Fiasco's Food & Liquor" is a top notch alternative hip hop album. I wasn't really listening to hip hop much at the time though, and despite hearing and enjoying "Kick, Push," I never listened to the whole album. The whole thing is consistently amazing. I recognized "Daydreamin'," and while that stood out, there were so many tracks nearly it's equal. I now wish I had listened to more Lupe Fiasco, and am hopeful that his later career kept up these heights. I did learn in reading about his work that he worked with the Neptunes, Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo, on "I Gotcha." As far as I can tell, the Neptunes produced songs on a few 1001 albums, but none of their albums as the Neptunes or N.E.R.D. or Pharrell's solo albums made the list. That's probably to be expected, but their role as hitmaking producers over the last 2 1/2 decades deserves to be recognized. I had no idea that their big breakthrough was writing Teddy Riley's Riley's verse on Wreckx-n-Effect's 1992 hit "Rump Shaker!"

I was first introduced to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan by Pearl Jam, actually. Khan partnered with Eddie Vedder for two songs on the “Dead Man Walking” soundtrack, including the amazing “Long Road.” That song was originally on Pearl Jam’s two-song EP “Merkin Ball” alongside “I Got Id” that came out of their work with Neil Young on “Mirror Ball.” That’s a fantastic and overlooked pair of songs that are among PJ’s best, but it’s also pretty cool the way they connect Neil Young, Eddie Vedder, and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

Good that it’s not raw like milk (apparently an actual trend in this Bizarro world America of 2025). Sushi, on the other hand, is raw and fantastic. Neneh Cherry is neither raw milk nor sushi, but “Raw Like Sushi” is so very 1989. Not in the birth of Taylor Swift kind of way, but in the rap/R&B/rock fusion that walks a fine line between cheesy and hard. Cherry finds herself too often on the wrong side of that line though. She may have a great musical pedigree, but despite (or perhaps because of) her heritage and background she comes off a bit fake. “Buffalo Stance” is a bop though, and makes you want to know how to hit the buffalo stance. But then you find out that a buffalo stance is, as Cherry told The New York Times, "an attitude you have to have in order to get by. It's not about fashion but about survival in inner cities and elsewhere." I’ve got the elsewhere part down. I’m hanging in a buffalo stance.

Filling in missing reviews brought me to a trio of Wu-Tang solo albums, best discussed together in a 3-in-1 review. Already having reviewed “Return to the 36 Chambers” and GZA’s “Liquid Swords,” how do these other Wu-Tang efforts hold up? While these are regarded as solo albums, the members’ first solo albums were all produced by RZA and each feature many Wu-Tang members. They even battled each other for RZA’s best beats - these are solo but Wu-Tang was still very much a collective. But they each have their own style that distinguishes them. Method Man’s “Tical” is my favorite of four solo albums - he brings the right amount of whimsy and fun to some otherwise hard-edged music, and it’s more about getting high than violence. He also keeps things concise - it’s much shorter than the other two, which have a large collection of decent tracks without hits. Raekwon’s “Only Built 4 Cuban Linx” is solid, but lacks the charm found on “Tical.” Ghostface Killah’s “Fishscale” is from later in his career - it's still filled with Wu-Tang cameos, but isn’t produced by RZA. I’m curious how it might compare to his solo debut, “Ironman” (which was RZA-produced). Ultimately, it doesn’t do it for me as much as the earlier Wu-Tang offerings. I do love how self-referential all the Wu-Tang members’ solo work is, though. RZA’s shaolin fixation still pops up, Method Man’s Tical concept (“taking into consideration all lives”) keeps popping up, Ghostface drops Iron Man references, and more - it’s all over, and it helps make it all feel very cohesive.

I love Chuck D's voice and flow. For about two songs. I love Flava Flav's energy. But he's annoying. I love the way Public Enemy pull diverse musical influences in to push rap music forward, wrapped in a bow of rage and discontent. But I can't do a whole album of it.

Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” is proof that a prog rock concept album can be done right. It clocks in at just 42 minutes, and “Time” is not just an amazing song but also something that Pink Floyd was the master of. The longer tracks don’t wander aimlessly for too long, instead being built with purpose. From the stark and iconic cover art to the space created by the opening and “The Great Gig in the Sky,” it is an excellently crafted piece of rock music.

Dusty has a great voice, the Memphis sound and soul style fit her well, as evidenced by none other than “Son of a Preacher Man.” No, really, there is no other evidence on this album. That songs stands alone and stands out, with nothing else delivering that soul, groove, or excitement. And no wonder - these 11 songs were written by 14 different people, none of them Dusty Springfield or the musicians playing on the tracks. For some reason it reminds me of the greeting card company in “500 Days of Summer” as a building full of writers with potential are churning out uninspired drivel. A five-star song on a three-star album.

This is so head-scratchingly bad. So many wtf vocal, lyrical, and sound moments. And there’s an hour and a half of it! As with the other Genesis album, I wonder why the more popular 80s Genesis isn’t on the list instead of this weird and lame 70s prog.

Slade did not slay on “Slayed?” It’s fine. It just never rises above its influences, which starts with late 60s hard rock and gets more and more like a late-Beatles clone later on the album.

Too much Tom Waits. Too much Bob Dylan. Too much David Bowie. Too much Elvis Costello.

The La’s seem to be compared to early British Invasion, not fitting in with the time period (early 90s), and a precursor to Britpop. That’s not the vibe I got at first though. I was reminded of 80s alt/indie/garage rock from North America. I’m really upset that after going into this one cold and being intrigued, I looked them up after three songs. I ruined the surprise of hitting “There She Goes” totally unaware. That’s a classic track, and the first time I got the British Invasion/Merseybeat connection. “Feelin’” also gets some of that same feeling. I think those initial vibes I got didn’t quite pan out, but The La’s had some diverse influences. One of them even said Captain Beefheart was their biggest inspiration. Ok, I don’t see that one… but lots of other places they were feeding off of to create something that feels pretty unique while still mainstream and coherent and listenable. And then they broke up. Despite some reunions and reformations, never released another studio album. A shame.

Best of lists are so funny. In 2004, British music magazine Q placed “Club Classics Vol. One” at number 28 in its list of the 50 Greatest British Albums Ever, but two years later, the magazine put it at number 34 in its list of 40 Best Albums of the 1980s. Number 28 all-time for British albums is hilarious to begin with, but the editorial opinion of the magazine must have changed quite a bit in the next two years. Or the lists were put together by completely different people. Because everyone has wildly different opinions about what the greatest albums are. For instance, I wouldn’t put this on the 1001. It’s fairly commonplace late 80s/early 90s R&B, which while probably underrepresented on the list this doesn’t feel like the album to remedy that. Then Soul II Soul mix in some very underwhelming hip-hop, an “African Dance” interlude, and some world music-influenced dance tracks, and “Club Classics Vol. One” never finds an identity. “Back to Reality” is the most interesting thing on the album, and feels familiar either from a bit of American radio play or from one of the many songs that sampled it. But it’s not enough to save this mediocre album.

Miles Davis' "Birth Of The Cool" is definitely cool. The kind of cool that sadly isn't "cool" anymore.

The melding of Metallica’s electric guitars and drums with an orchestra is a brilliant pairing. The problem with “S&M” is when in their careers they made it. It’s heavy on “Load” and “Reload” because those were their most recent albums. Sometime around the black album, James Hetfield became a better singer. And then took everything he learned too far and became a worse singer. I just don’t like the way he uses his voice as much from “Load” and beyond. Those vocals and the set list here hold “S&M” back, but a metal symphony is a terrific concept. There’s probably some symphonic metal out there I should be checking out.

That violin that begins “Bittersweet Symphony” was ubiquitous in 1997. The Verve’s “Urban Hymns” didn’t have much life in the US past that, but “The Drugs Don’t Work” and “Lucky Man” were also successful in the UK. I didn’t know if the rest of “Urban Hymns” would be more like “Bittersweet Symphony,” or more like their previous album “Northern Soul.” I remarked that “Northern Soul” was heavier than I expected based on that one hit. “The Rolling People” brought the sound I was hoping for, but alas that song is by far the album’s best. “Weeping Willow” is a decent slower track, and several others are ok, but overall I prefer the previous album. The Verve aren’t a strong enough band to place two albums if they were American.

“Kala” is still on the list. “Arular” is not. This is the right choice. She may have gone a little cuckoo (anti-vax), but MIA’s first two albums definitely helped bring something unique and fresh. This debut still had some bugs, though. Most bothersome one is her tendency to end lines with vowel sounds (even when the words don’t end with vowels) and a sharp rise. “Sunshowers” is the album’s best track.

Another example of the difference between what Dimery picked for the list from 2009 and what I would have included. There's some decent indie-pop here, but it's marred by the kind of vocals that ruined much of 80s British post-punk for me. So of course it made the 1001.

Generally lacking the magic of Crosby, Stills, & Nash, just like the two Stephen Stills albums on the list. “Traction in the Rain” stood out, but not much else. “What Are Their Names” felt like a Neil Young/Grateful Dead song, which essentially it was.

Opening with the brief call-out to “Rock and Roll All Nite” was a shrewd move by Kiss, sure to give the listener some warm nostalgia fuzzies. However, “Destroyer” quickly kills that goodwill. It was tolerable until the ridiculous “God of Thunder.” It only really recovers with “Shout It Out Loud,” and when I’m looking to rock and roll all nite, the “Rock and Roll Party” seems to come to a screeching halt.

An indomitable voice fronting a great band delivering on some no-nonsense blues and soul based rock music. “Cry Baby” does the most to showcase Joplin’s voice and the power and passion she sang with.

We serendipitously were gifted "Medúlla" by the generator on the very day we were driving around Iceland, starting in Reykjavik and heading along the southern coast to Vik and the black sand beaches at Reynisfjara. Iceland's most notable musical export served as a fitting soundtrack to our travels, and we went on to also listen to "Post" and some Of Monsters and Men. We passed on Sigur Rós to stay away from music too sleepy for the drive, but "Ágætis Byrjun" is on the list so we'll get there eventually. But "Medúlla" actually is no longer on the 1001 list. "Debut" remains, along with "Vespertine" and 2015's "Vulnicura." But "Post" has never been included. This is a mistake. It is Björk's best. "Medúlla" has its moments, but remains just a bit too inaccessible, a little too Björk-y for my taste. Even the best songs had at least a moment or two of extreme weirdness that took me out of it.

Chaotic instrumental rock/jazz fusion is not my thing.

"Doolittle" was only released a year later, but there is such a difference between the two albums. "Surfer Rosa," the Pixies debut, generally feels like the chaos is leading the way, a band out of control and letting it all fly in the recording studio. Sometimes that makes for great moments in songs, but sometimes it can be a bit too much. On "Doolittle," it felt like they found the right balance. The chaos is still there, but the band is controlling the chaos and using it to pointed effect. The major exception here is "Where Is My Mind?," my favorite Pixies song. It is the best example on "Surfer Rosa" of the chaos controlled. While the album falls short of "Doolittle," "Where Is My Mind?" gets all the stars.

I don’t think live albums should be on the list. Most of them are essentially greatest hits.

For hopefully the last time, I want to like progressive rock. It has a lot of potential. Sometimes it really works. But the 1001 has taught me that most of the time, it doesn’t work for me. "In the Court of the Crimson King" mostly worked. “Larks’ Tongue in Aspic” did not. All the worst impulses of the genre.

I've heard a few Goldfrapp songs, but this was my first wider exposure. Alternatively dreamy and wistful, then joyful and driving. I enjoyed it. "Happiness," the only one I knew before, and "Caravan Girl" were the highlights.

Sometimes post-punk is just too post for me.

The 1001 book describes Lightning Bolt as creating "a mix of sheer abuse and welcome diversity, for a truly challenging listening experience." Such a challenging experience that it was removed from future editions. I have challenged myself to the abuse for the second time, because I had no idea what to write originally two years ago. There won’t be a third time.

I listened to "In the Court of the Crimson King" once, and really didn't dig it. Glad I went back for a second listen a couple weeks later, because I must have been in the right frame of mind to appreciate it much more. Or maybe I was confused and it was "Larks' Tongues in Aspic" that I didn't like, because that King Crimson was just five days before this one. I guess now I'll have to listen to that one again, but now I'm dreading that a bit more. Was that the bad one? Is that the one that will make me rethink my feelings on progressive rock? Let's hope not, because "In the Court of the Crimson King" was apparently very influential in shaping the genre and deserves its accolades.

The Hulk is incredible. That lovely animated family of Fantastic Four rip-offs is incredible. Kimmy Schmidt is incredible. Walter Mitty’s life was… kind of incredible. This is not incredible. This is awful British hippie folk worse than Pentangle. And I partly blame the Beatles for bringing Indian and eastern music back to people who abused it.

I only wanted one, but we got two. Rufus Wainwright bores me too much to be on the list twice.

"Street Signs" was a very cool mash-up of styles from Ozomatli. For such a diversity of sounds, they came together well. I was surprised to hear of the group's early connection to Jurassic 5, with Chali 2na and Cut Chemist being original members who came back to contribute a bit on "Street Signs." Great sound, great political messages, great positivity.

Elton John’s “Madman Across the Water” opens with one of his biggest hits, “Tiny Dancer,” and follows it up with the rousing “Levon.” The title character in “Levon” was named after The Bands’ Levon Helm, who didn’t like the song and thought "Englishmen shouldn't fuck with Americanisms." And yet, on “Indian Sunset,” John and Bernie Taupin do it again. Maybe that song wouldn’t have been viewed as full of stereotypes and anachronisms in 1971, but it sounds kind of silly today. Taupin and John at times make a great songwriting pair, and at times deliver some head-scratchers. Nothing else on “Madman Across the Water” reaches the heights of those first two tracks. Elton is yet another artist that the 1001 has taught me is great as a collection of hits but never delivered a truly stellar full album.

The first three tracks on "The Joshua Tree" have you hoping that its a star-scale-breaking greatest-of-all-time album. Those three songs are untouchable. But "Bullet the Blue Sky," while not a bad song, doesn't fit the album. After that, there is a nice run of impressive Americana/folk rock for some lads from Dublin, but things drag a bit towards the end. Ultimately, the promise of "Where the Streets Have No Name," "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," and "With or Without You" only led to a bit of disappointment.

I just wrote for “Good Old Boys” that a full album of Randy Newman is too much Randy for me. And that’s the case on “Sail Away” too. But it’s interesting to see how much farther his career in film goes than I realized. I may not like Newman in straight album format, but his accolades for scores and original songs for film are well deserved and impactful.

The Rolling Stones’ debut is primarily blues covers. It’s pretty neat that the music of black blues artists from the 1940s American South made its way across the pond and inspired young British guys to play their songs and then set off on a musical journey of their own, bouncing those sound waves back across the ocean and beyond. It’s also weird for a lot of complicated social and cultural reasons. From what I gather, the Stones were very open about crediting these artists and acknowledging their influence. I appreciate those efforts, and appreciate this collection of songs that includes a few absolute classics.

Jack White is an amazing musician and steward of music history. Nothing quite touches the brilliance of early White Stripes, but every endeavor he has pursued since have delivered terrific music. I haven't listened to his more recent stuff, but from the first decade post-White Stripes I would rate "Blunderbuss" and the solo work above The Dead Weather, but below The Raconteurs.

This is the third Stooges album we've gotten, and though I never wrote reviews I think I listened to both and liked them. And I enjoyed the less Bowie-fied Iggy Pop solo album we listened to. "Fun House" again continues the quality proto-punk from Iggy and the Stooges. Enjoyed the raw energy a lot.

I would never have guessed before listening that the song featuring Kendrick Lamar would be my least favorite on this album. In fact, its lewd strangeness nearly put me off the album as a whole. But luckily it got much better after that. I now understand why SZA has made such a big impact quickly in R&B and hip-hop.

I greatly preferred the more bluegrassy songs on "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road." The more country-tinged songs were not my thing. But the bluegrass was strong enough to earn the 4th star.

Not a great start with “Beauty and the Beast,” but “Joe the Lion” was a bit better before the classic “Heroes.” I can’t remember which I heard first, but for a long time the version of “Heroes” I was most familiar with was the Wallflowers cover. I’m actually not sure which version I prefer (not to say that the Wallflowers are on Bowie’s level…). But the original “Heroes” is by far the best part of the album of the same name. The second half is instrumental, varied, and mostly not objectionable, but it clearly bears the influence of co-writer Brian Eno. Ultimately, one good song is not enough for me to give “Heroes” more than two stars. Every other song is a station-turner.

I kept listening to "Let England Shake" over and over, trying to figure out why I liked it so much. Or whether I liked it that much? It was somewhat in the background while I was working, so I wondered if paying more attention would reduce my appreciation. But every time I came away really enjoying it. Different from early PJ Harvey, to be sure, but I dug it. And then dug it again. And again. Glad there's more PJ Harvey yet to come, and I see why she is the only artist with 4 Mercury Prize nominations and 2 wins.

I've definitely enjoyed hearing the albums that essentially pioneered new subgenres in rock music, and "Black Sabbath" definitely fits that mold. The sounds that would steer two decades of heavy metal are threaded throughout, but what surprised me most was how much blues rock was mixed in. Terrific guitar work by Tommy Iommi, and Ozzy Osbourne's voice shouldn't work, but it does.

Dinosaur Jr. is one of those alternative/indie bands who had their heyday in the late 80s, just a bit too early for a kid who's musical awakening was in the early 90s. They are a band I've heard much about since, but never taken the time to dig deeper than hearing an occasional song. But after listening to "Bug," I see the appeal, from pounding noise rock one moment to melodic breakdowns the next. J Mascis may have been the creative genius behind things, but bassist Lou Barlow encapsulated the band perfectly, saying that "we loved speed metal ... and we loved wimpy-jangly stuff." As for the penultimate track, "Don't," ... well, just don't. Almost killed a good vibe.

Don't judge an album by its cover. I was not expecting jazz. And it's fine jazz, as far as I can tell. Some of it's lovely, some of it's kind of boring. Suitable as background music. More interesting than the music itself is that Ibrahim's "Mannenberg" (revisited on this album) was a bit of an anti-apartheid anthem and was played at many rallies. Not the kind of rousing protest song I would expect, but that's pretty neat, and the most interesting thing about this brand of jazz.

The title track on "Green Onions" is one of the most iconic and influential instrumental pieces in modern music. Unfortunately, the rest of the album is a collection of mostly uninspiring covers in the same blues organ style, and one echo of "Green Onions." But man, is that song worthy of all the echoes and ripples it's caused through music and pop culture history.

I immediately pre-judged this electronic music I'd never heard of for it's "Destroy Rock & Roll" title. I like a lot of electronic music, but predictions of the demise of rock music have always been overstated and thus I was wary. Luckily, Mylo doesn't seem to have a destructive agenda of his own. The title track, with it's backing vocal from a fundamentalist Christian sermon was brilliantly paired and quite catchy, but overall a lot of the album fell flat. It opens with two good songs that are atmospheric and enveloping, but those are followed by a series of fairly boring house tracks before "Destroy Rock & Roll" tries to get things back on track. "Musclecar" tried for a repeat of the spoken word and beats pairing but was not as successful, but the album picks back up at the end, especially with "Emotion 98.6." If the vibes created by the start and end of the album were sustained throughout, it would make for a much more satisfying listen. Like with last week's Black Sabbath, the preacher's rundown of all the corrupting acts in rock and roll reminded me how tame much of what induced pearl-clutching in previous generations seems in the 21st century.

How did I fail, nearly two years ago, to write a review about Holger Czukay's "Movies?" And particularly about "Cool in the Pool?" Well, at least it gave me a chance to revisit this strange little album. Is there German music that isn't strange? If so, the 1001 didn't do a very good job of exposing us to it. Though Czukay is from Can, so he's responsible for like 1/2 the German music on the list. This 4-song album is all over the place, with a song that melds Arab and Caribbean sounds, a weird industrial "symphony," and of course, "Cool in the Pool." Which could not help but to evoke laughter and perhaps inadvertently images of "Horton Hears a Who" and "Seussical." We'll have to go searching for Czukay's cool pool somewhere deep in the jungles of Nool.

I don't know what The Cult sounded like on their first two albums, but apparently their third album, "Electric," embraced a hard rock style that strayed from their gothic roots. It seems that producer Rick Rubin may be to thank for that. Rubin was incredibly influential in the evolution of hip hop in the early 80s before becoming a hard rock hitmaker, but "Electric" seems like a bit of a miss compared to his catalog. It has almost all of the hallmarks of 80s hard rock, but it's missing something that is hard to place. I think it lacks catchiness? Singer Ian Astbury has the vocal wails to fit the genre. The guitars and drums are fine, if unspectacular. But there are no bombastic choruses that get stuck in your head despite your best efforts. In fact, the catchiest song is "Born to be Wild," a cover of a Steppenwolf song written by Mars Bonfire that doesn't quite match the original. Steppenwolf gets no placement on the 1001, and I'm not sure The Cult needed to be either.

I don't know how "The Chrome Plated Megaphone Of Destiny" can be considered the only thing that goes too far on "We're Only In It For The Money." Sure, that's a fitting coda on a bizarre journey, but the whole album is an oddity. I can't imagine listening to it repeatedly. There are some very interesting ideas in the lyrics, no doubt, but having listened once I get the idea. It is said that "necessity is the mother of invention," but there's no necessity here. The Mothers Of Invention did it because they could, not because they should or because we needed it. Of course, there's no fault in that - art and ideas should be pursued because you can, for your own desires and purposes. I just don't feel the need to listen to it.

I've gotta side with the group here - the slow songs really drag "Pet Sounds" down. And that's a lot of dragging. There are a few gems, and even my ears can tell that there is some unique and sophisticated instrumentation and production, but it's not enough to make it a really rewarding listen. I'd love to read more about its place in history and its influence, but the Wikipedia page is by far the longest I've ever seen for an album, and that's gonna put me to sleep faster than listening to the album did.

What started out as rather generic hard/glam rock never recovered after a weird "Comfortably Numb" cover. The Elton John-ish piano ballad wasn't too bad, but it didn't feel like it fit, and I was not a fan of "Lovers in the Backseat" or "Tits on the Radio," though the observation key to the latter song is undeniably true. "Filthy/Gorgeous" was even worse, as "Scissor Sisters" kept going downhill. "Music is the Victim" was a little more tolerable, bordering on fun, but not quite there yet, and the same can be said for the rest of the album. Points off for one member's cringy nickname of "Babydaddy," points added for Ana "Matronic." And I love the story of the original two members meeting Ana Matronic at Disneyland, in part because I discovered that the park screened a sci-fi film starring Michael Jackson, written by George Lucas, and directed by Frances Ford Coppola in the 80s and 90s. The early exploits of the Scissor Sisters sound wild and racy and boundary-pushing, but nothing on "Scissor Sisters" reaches those levels. More importantly, there are no sisters in Scissor Sisters, and sisters are sorely underrepresented on the 1001. So instead I offer up HAIM's "Days Are Gone," Heart's "Little Queen," and Tegan and Sara's "So Jealous," which all merit inclusion.

The United States of America is a bold attempt at experimentation. It built off some early hits in the genres of democracy and human rights, but initially botched the execution of those styles. Perhaps as a new young group the USA wasn't as adept at "playing it's instruments" as it would be in later years? The deluxe edition of their debut, titled "The Bill of Rights," showed great potential and promise. But it wasn't for everyone. Further attempts to broaden their appeal and reach the masses received mixed reviews, like "The 13th Amendment," "The 19th Amendment," and "The Civil Rights Act." But each critically acclaimed hit came with blowback from those who just loved the originals and review-bombed the new material. Trying to hold on to those early fans led to such missteps as "The Civil War," "Plessy v. Ferguson," "The Tulsa Race Massacre," and "The Assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr." The USA is still going strong today 247 years after its debut, but unfortunately some fans want it to embrace earlier styles and make things great again, which is just code for when its albums were hostile to anyone not like its original fans. "The United States of America" is also a bold attempt at experimentation. It built off a bizarre discordant circus rehearsal on the first track, with layers of styles that were impossible to discern. They showed some potential and promise in the more straightforward psychedelic rock with Dorothy Moscovitz vocals, but mixed in were too many odd or cacophonous experimental tracks. Rather than last 247 years, the band The United States of America disbanded after this single album. And I don't think the country missed them.

"Pretzel Logic" is our 4th and final Steely Dan album, and I wish I could say that I had been won over. But alas, I feel like they are overrepresented on the list. I've learned that I like a handful of Steely Dan songs, but not enough to make an album stand out. Their debut, "Can't Buy a Thrill," was by far the best, and "Aja" by far the worst. "Pretzel Logic" sits somewhere in between. "Rikki Don't Lose My Number" was familiar, and probably the best track, but as the opener allowed for a series of forgettable songs to follow.

Baaba Maal's "Lam Toro" was definitely an enjoyable listen. I may not understand the Pulaar language, but the album delivered a vibe that transcended language. That said, I'm not sure it stood out from other West African music that I've heard. I couldn't tell you what differentiates "Lam Toro" from other works in its genre. Although to some extent music transcends language, the language barrier is perhaps somewhat to blame for this feeling. And lack of exposure. But it all adds up to make it hard to go above a 3 despite my enjoyment.

The British bias working out for the better for once. Like many Yanks I'd never heard of Joan Armatrading, but she has a terrific voice. I greatly preferred the bluesier songs though, some of the other tracks were a bit bland for my taste.

I remember Joanna Newsom being an absolute critical darling in the 00s, with "Ys" being the peak. But it is also very clear why this may not be a commercial hit. Despite the hype, I never listened. I mean, the 10 minute songs aren't really radio-friendly, so Newsom is one of those you have to seek out. Since I didn't take that initiative, I'll have to thank the 1001 for the exposure. I like progressive rock (though I'm learning not quite as much as I'd thought), and I like some folk, and the merger of the two makes for something interesting and unique. On the other hand, the way Newsom sings sometimes just comes off as Björk with a harp. A vocal style that could be really annoying... somehow works. Most of the time. Just like Björk. "Monkey & Bear" nearly lost me, but "Sawdust & Diamonds" was great and stood out as the best track. Apparently Newsom's first album, "Milk Eyed Mender," was more "twee," according to several reviews? I'm not totally sure what twee is, but I think more twee than "Ys" might be a turn-off? Though "Ys" may not push me to seek out more Joanna Newsom, it was a welcome listen that I would certainly revisit.

How can something so smooth be so... boring? This is the album that launched and shaped the neo-soul renaissance of the late 90s?

Essentially a repeat of my "Heartbreaker" review here, as "Gold" is much the same with some absolutely terrific songs that I just can't fully separate from the artist who wrote and performed them. This is a four-star album. But -1 because I just can't enjoy it in the same way anymore.

Throbbing Gristle brings us the second 1-star industrial entry on the list, joining The Young Gods in notoriety. Apparently I thought at the time that amongst the awful, The Young Gods had "some moments with some interesting music." Those are rarer on "D.O.A. the Third and Final Report of Throbbing Gristle," although "AB/7A" was actually listenable. Genesis P-Orridge (actually) and the Gristle gang delivered possibly the worst album on the list, and the time spent listening (and reading P-Orridge's Wikipedia page) is time I'll sadly never have back. So industrial music is overrepresented. You know what's underrepresented? Emo. Emo might have been the butt of many jokes in the 2000s, but the genre's early days in the 80s and 90s and its heydey in the 2000s delivered several worthy albums. So I'll use this space to advocate for one of them. Jimmy Eat World "Bleed American" (2001) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ It may be poppier and more mainstream than the forerunners of the genre, but it delivers with raw emotion through great lyrics, earnest vocals, and driving guitars. JEW were on an incredible run that peaked at "Bleed American" but continued on through "Futures," and their hits, talent, and longevity all merit an inclusion on the list. Hopefully there won't be any more industrial albums, but if there are I'll be back with Sunny Day Real Estate, The Get Up Kids, and more to give an underrated genre its due.

Why did I do this to myself? I waited until our last Tom Waits album to go back and fill in my missing reviews for three other Waits albums. But I can’t take one full album of Waits, let alone four in a day! Why did I wait!? Album opener “Underground” feels like it reveals how Waits might have inspired Modest Mouse, who sped up that sound a bit and paired it with a slightly more palatable vocal. Then we get a lot of spoken word, macabre, carnivalesque weirdness. The Waits are all gonna be 2s for me, but I can differentiate even then - I like “Swordfishtrombones” less than “Rain Dogs” (which started today’s dark adventure).

Not Japanese. Or from Japan. Or having anything at all to do with Japan. At first. The name may have come from a travel brochure laying on the floor of the tour bus. But regardless of the origins of the name, it may have been key to their success in Asia. Perhaps based solely off the band's name, they had a fan club with 30,000 members in the country of Japan before they even released their first album. They would go on to play in Japan, first visiting Tokyo five years after their debut for three straight sold out shows. After "Quiet Life," it seems lead singer David Sylvian embraced Asia even more, from lyrics and themes to press and collaborations. On "Quiet Life," their biggest album, they didn't grab me right away with the rather boring title track. However, it was followed by a rather interesting stretch from "Fall in Love with Me" to "Halloween." The last few tracks weren't as strong, but they do help further flesh out Japan's new style, which apparently was a departure from their earlier work. Overall, not quite my thing, but it was interesting enough.

The Doors albums on the list are their debut (here), their final album with Jim Morrison before his death (nearly 200 albums ago), and "Morrison Hotel," (which we have yet to receive). I had not realized that they continued to make music after Morrison died, or that the first post-Morrison album was strangely titled "Other Voices." It's surprising, because Morrison was clearly the driving force behind the band's sound and their lasting impact. Well, that and the organ. Ray Manzarek's organ playing is the other thing I most associate with the Doors' sound. But without Morrison, I think the organ might drive me crazy. It works in smaller doses - "Break on Through" is great and knows when to stop, unlike "Light My Fire," which is great for its vocals but the full version (not the trimmed radio edit) goes overboard with organ solos. Beyond the two hits, "The Doors" is a bit of a mixed bag. "Soul Kitchen" keeps up the energy after "Break on Through" with solid blues rock. Then "The Crystal Ship" turns to the psychedelic, and the energy fades, and "Alabama Song (Whisky Bar)" amps up the weirdness. "The End" certainly has its moments, but despite what the title says, seems to never end. Overall, I prefer "L.A. Woman," and I'm interested to see where "Morrison Hotel," with less known hits, will fall. "L.A. Woman" was 4-star. This is probably too good and classic to be a 3, but it's a high 3; 7 out of 10, a true 4 if it had less psychedelic excess.

Who needs John Rambo when you've got Topper Harley? Rambo might have been all the rage in the 70s and 80s, but Harley was the hero we needed in the 90s. In a post-Cold War world, after Rambo's exploits in Vietnam and Afghanistan, a new action hero was needed for a new era. An era kicked off by the Persian Gulf War, with the specter of Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein plaguing US interests abroad. Only Harley was capable of dealing with Hussein. And deal with him he did. Could John Rambo have infiltrated Hussein's palace in Baghdad? Could John Rambo have fought valiantly against Hussein himself in a swordfight? Could John Rambo have pushed a piano out of a helicopter to crush Hussein? Only Charlie Sheen's Topper Harley could have accomplished such heroics, which is why "Hot Shots! Part Deux" was such a huge hit. The Beta Band's "Hot Shots II" was not a sequel to "Hot Shots." It did not include Topper Harley (or John Rambo). It loses a star right there for falsely purporting to be a sequel. The original is almost always better (almost). Why would you want people to think you're a sequel when you're not? Despite the lack of a buff, mulletted Charlie Sheen, the Beta Band were still a decent listen. I enjoyed the "folktronica," though none of it stuck with you the way Topper Harley beating a man with Skittle-dipped fists will.

Country may be my least favorite genre of music, but the Cowboy Junkies’ “The Trinity Session” is a style of alternative/folk country that I can appreciate. It also continues to challenge my opinions about live albums on the list and makes me think about the diverse ways musicians record music. “The Trinity Session” is not quite a live album. It’s mostly one session, but without an audience. But the Cowboy Junkies found a space with unique acoustics, lied their way into that space, and set about recording an intimate performance. Some albums are recorded in a day in a church. Some are recorded in a state-of-the-art studio over weeks. Some are recorded live on stage in front of a cheering crowd. All can produce amazing results. Except the live albums that stitch together several different shows. I still don’t care for those.

I think "Paul's Boutique" might be the starkest example so far in the 1001 of tastes changing as we grow up. "Paul's Boutique" was a bit too early for me. My first Beastie Boys exposure was "Ill Communication," and I worked a bit backwards from there. I definitely dug it as a teenager. I didn't keep up with them too tightly, and don't think I listened much to "Hello Nasty." But I loved "To The 5 Boroughs" as a young adult. Going back to "Paul's Boutique," I was struck by the in-your-face brashness and immaturity. But that was the Beastie Boys, right? I was just in a better place to receive it when I was younger. I still think early Beastie Boys has a special place in the history of hip hop, and parts of it are still enjoyable. They always were incredibly clever, and this is probably one of the best representations of the 80s style of hip hop which could too often be slow and corny. But the constant yelling and childishness throughout is too much of a turnoff for me now. We'll eventually get to "Ill Communication," but in the meantime I went back to "To The 5 Boroughs," and I'm happy to say I liked it much better. They toned down what needed to be toned down, while still keeping the bite and the wit, and the beats were improved, along with guest spots that helped the flow and broke up the monotony of the Boys' voices. Musically only a ⭐️⭐️ for me now, though "To The 5 Boroughs" is still at least a ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️. Looking forward to revisiting "Ill Communication," and not so much looking forward to "License to Ill."

Well, Jack, you've got the floor. What type of rambler are you? One who walks a lot? Taking the floor and staying put would be significant then. The type who talks on and on? "Jack Takes the Floor" at least doesn't ramble on too long.

Peak jazz. But I think recorded jazz peaks for me at 4.

There are so few 1950s albums on the list that it was pretty bizarre to get 3 in a row. And all very different! (Louis Prima, Miles Davis, and Ramblin' Jack Elliot) There is also nothing on the list before 1955. Why that cutoff? Does Dimery explain that in the book? That question is particularly interesting with "The Wildest!" because many of the songs on the album are older songs dating as far back as 1915. "Jump, Jive, and Wail," is a pretty good jazz swing song that indicates Prima's influence on the development of early rock and roll, but there's not much else here that helps me to understand why "The Wildest!" was important enough to earn one of the earliest spots on the list. It did give me the excuse to learn more about the history of the term gigolo, and has helped me to no longer automatically picture Deuce Bigalow, Male Gigolo when I hear the word.

I'll agree with dmo - just give me "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard" on repeat for 11 tracks. It turns out that song is only 2 minutes and 42 seconds. Clearly not enough. But the rest of the album is actually pretty solid too. I enjoyed "Duncan" and "Paranoia Blues," but there's not a bad track there. However, only "Me and Julio" is a 5.

I may not know a lot about African music, but I've definitely heard the name Ali Farka Touré. He was influential enough to pioneer a regional genre that grew to worldwide acclaim, and made multiple greatest guitarist of all time lists. And listening to his last album, I can understand why. I hear a lot more of the clear American blues influence on "Savane" than I am used to from my admittedly limited exposure to desert blues, and can clearly see the genesis of the genre that Touré led. I may not understand the Songhay lyrics, but the blues is a universal language.

2…3…2?…3?…2?…3?…2…3… "Happy Sad" is somewhere in there. In a spot let's just call the Tim Buckley Zone (TBZ). Like his son, Tim clearly has an incredible voice. "Strange Feeling" put it to good use, with an interesting jazziness, but it dragged on a bit too long - a recurring theme. I've heard "Buzzin' Fly" before - it was familiar but also felt off? I wondered if I knew a cover version, but had no luck finding one. Mixed in with the cleverness and catchiness were some bits where Buckley got too croak-y. Then the dragging on too long came back with a vengeance as we slog through 16 boring minutes of "Love from Room 109 at the Islander (On Pacific Coast Highway)" and "Dream Letter." "Gypsy Woman" brought back the good energy, but again overstayed its welcome before the culminating but forgettable "Sing a Song for You." The TBZ exists in the sweet spot where a couple of good songs by a talented performer are derailed by excess.

The Shamen may have made a weird swerve from psychedelic rock to house music here, but I guess they get some credit for embracing house and helping popularize the genre on an album, outside of the club? But the credit for a style that evolved in the Chicago club scene with African American DJs going to a Scottish rock band is kind of weird. And it was early in the evolution of house music, but most of "En-Tact" is pretty boring. Or annoying, as in the case of "Omega Amigo."

I found the Sisters of Mercy's gothy darkness to be try-hard, over the top, and annoying. And yet sometimes I liked the songs. But apparently Andrew Eldritch was known as the "Godfather of Goth," so I guess there is a trailblazing authenticity there. I'm not sure that makes things better, though. In that case Eldritch (real name Andrew William Harvey Taylor) may shoulder much of the blame for four subsequent decades of cringiness. But most hilariously, Eldritch agrees with me! "Since the early 1990s, Eldritch has publicly rejected associations with the goth subculture. He describes the Sisters of Mercy as humanist, modernist, and implies he wants nothing to do with goth, stating: 'it's disappointing that so many people have in all seriousness adopted just one of our many one-week-of-stupid-clothes benders.' He also notes: 'I'm constantly confronted by representatives of popular culture who are far more goth than we, yet I have only to wear black socks to be stigmatised as the demon overlord.'

Last Friday was Paul Simon. This Friday was Eric Clapton. Simon was influenced by African and Caribbean music, and went to Jamaica to record with those who inspired him. Clapton was influenced by African American blues musicians, covered their songs here, tried to steal Bob Marley's thunder with his "I Shot the Sheriff" cover, and remained a racist. Clapton might be a terrific guitar player and songwriter, but the irony of a racist covering the work of black musicians is not lost here. Marley's "I Shot the Sheriff" is much better, but apparently Clapton's was more famous at the time? None of Clapton's originals on this album impress very much, actually.

"Mr. Blue Sky" is fun and interesting. I can't really say the same for anything that came before it on "Out of the Blue." It all just sounded like a bad Queen knock-off, without the rock variety or Freddie Mercury electricity that made Queen special.

You snooze, you lose. katek somehow read my mind and posted nearly the exact review I was working up. I definitely enjoyed "Surf's Up" more than the lauded "Pet Sounds," and it deserves a higher score. But I gave "Pet Sounds" a 3, and this isn't a 4. Maybe a 3.75? Been a while since I've lamented the 5-star scale. Maybe making Carl Wilson the leader helped the Boys out. I enjoyed his first major song contributions - "Long Promised Road" and "Feel Flows" - and felt the first half of the album was better than the second half, which happened to have more Brian Wilson songs.

In "The White Room," with bad techno, near frustration... The KLF seemed to have trouble making final decisions. What should we call ourselves? What songs should be on this album? On both occasions, they should have made a decision and stuck to it. On the name front, they would have remained The Timeless. Nothing spectacular, but definitely a step up from the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu, and when paired with the single "Doctorin' the Tardis" you've got something potentially more interesting than anything on any version of "The White Room." Though that can be hard to sort, because there are at least four different versions of "The White Room," and they are all pretty different. The version I listened to (the 2021 Director's Cut) opened with the awful "Go To Sleep" before a tolerable stretch of early British acid house. But it is clearly early electronica, and as with other offerings on the list, they sound very dated and not nearly the best the genre has to offer. A lot of the second half of the album gets pretty annoying, and it seems likely that listening to another version of the album wouldn't make it any better. And listening to it after seeing our group's comparisons to Haddaway, C&C Music Factory, and Ace of Base? I totally hear it. And it doesn't help.

JT is in the news this week for what ex Britney Spears wrote about him in her memoir. Was Timberlake justified in his actions in his relationship with Spears? Was Timberlake justified in exposing Janet Jackson at the Super Bowl halftime show? Was Timberlake justified in calling an album "FutureSex/LoveSounds?" Was "Justified's" inclusion on this list justified? Well, I can answer the last one at least. Nope. At least the later removal from the list was justified. "Cry Me a River" may have been quite the shot at Spears (who now alleges he was the one guilty of infidelity), but regardless its certainly an earworm. With the exception of the next track ("Rock Your Body"), all the tolerable tracks on "Justified" are the ones produced by Timbaland. Pharrell Williams is great, but much of his work with Timberlake is boring. And some of the lyrics are awful (including the Timbaland-produced "(Oh No) What You Got"). But at least the beats are interesting?

Unlike “London Calling,” The Clash’s self-titled offering is a punk blitz from start to finish.

I've heard of Mike Watt, and been aware of his status in the 80s indie music scene, but was never acquainted with his work. Then we listened to the MINUTEMEN 300 albums ago, and I was pleasantly surprised. At least, that's what my review says. I unfortunately don't remember it. 655 albums in, there are a growing number of 4-star reviews of discovered music I thought I might go back to, but haven't found the chance to or remembered to. fIREHOSE is likely to wind up in exactly the same place in my library of forgottens. I was worried at the very start, but wound up really enjoying it. Watt's base grooves carry many of the songs, and most tracks savvily hit the sweet spot of unpolished and intentionally crafted. But since I whine and moan about modern bands with ridiculous spellings or capitalization (or lack thereof), I would be remiss if I didn't call out the MINUTEMEN and fIREHOSE for possibly being the forerunners of this goofy trend.

Who knew that Animal from "The Muppets" inspired a whole genre? Napalm Death may have pioneered grindcore, but it's clear that they took their influence from the drumming force from Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem. However, there's no Dr. Teeth or Floyd Pepper to restrain Napalm Death, so it's all manic Animal all the time. Jim Henson and Frank Oz parodied the drummers of the 60s and 70s, and then these repressed Brits went and (unknowingly, we must assume) parodied the parody muppet? Congrats on your Guiness World Record for shortest song, Napalm Death. Congrats on surely destroying countless symbols and drumsticks. Congrats on quickly convincing me that grindcore sucks. So, if not Napalm Death, what death replacement? I offer instead... Death Cab for Cutie - "Transatlanticism" (2003) and "Plans" (2005) and "Narrow Stairs" (2008) Death Cab is another band with emo roots that expanded and transcended the genre, a genre that deserves representation on the 1001 well before grindcore. With the three album run from "Transatlanticism" to "Narrow Stairs," DCFC created a lush sonic landscape full of longing and intense passion. Ben Gibbard's plaintive vocals retained the emo earnestness, while Chris Walla's crystal clear guitar notes continuously propel songs just to the edge of bursting before pulling back. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

So bad it needs a replacement. Keeping it Kraussy, substitute Allison Krauss and Union Station. Weird German stuff is over represented, while bluegrass is underrepresented. In the 90s and early 00s, no one did it better than Alison Krauss and Union Station.

Who Killed...... The Zutons? Well... The Zutons killed The Zutons. It's a weird question to ask on the cover of your debut album. Almost asking for an untimely demise. It wouldn't come right away, and it apparently wouldn't be an exciting mystery either. The Zutons quietly disbanded after eight years and three albums. A fairly boring story. But "Who Killed...... The Zutons?" wasn't boring. British indie rock from the 00s is so much better than British indie rock from the 80s, and it's a shame the representation isn't flipped on the 1001. I vaguely recall "Pressure Point" making a splash across the pond when this came out, but The Zutons didn't make much of an impression beyond that. It's too bad though - this debut album shows a lot of potential. "Pressure Point" is infectious, but it was the stretch from "Havana Gang Brawl" to "Not A Lot To Do" that really stood out. Unlike much of the previously alluded to 80s music, The Zutons actually incorporate a saxophone into rock music in a way I don't hate. Also, I'll take the Liverpool scouse accent over London accents from a singer any day. A Beatles-based bias? I'd also never previously listened to The Zutons Liverpudlian contemporaries The Coral before the 1001, but The Coral did not make a good first impression. I'm happy to say The Zutons were much more welcome.

Not what I expected from an album titled "São Paulo Confessions." Suba delivered an unanticipated Brazilian album by... not being Brazilian. But a Serbian-born musician moving to Brazil and collaborating with local artists in making an album that defies prediction worked very well. Although there are hints of sounds I would associate with trip hop, it isn't electronica mixed with hip hop. Instead, Suba's electronica is mixed with jazz, funk, and soul for some kind of combination of acid jazz and downtempo electronica. There's definitely a Latin influence in parts, and some samba drums on occasion, but it all feels part of a diverse whole. "São Paulo Confessions" is very chill and a pleasant surprise. "São Paulo Confessions" could have been a breakout for Suba, but he tragically died the same month it was released attempting to save his recordings from a fire in the studio.

It's the harmonies. Right? They trade off songwriting, but David Crosby and Stephen Stills’ solo albums don’t seem to have the same level of really catchy, infectious structures. They also make back-up vocal appearances on each other’s albums, so there are still some harmonies there. Is it the collaborative nature bringing out the best, pushing each to only deliver their best?

After two AC/DC albums, I can confirm that I like AC/DC's hits by themselves, but as a whole album it's too much. As I remarked with "Back in Black," there's just no levels here. It got old really quickly after the title track.

Wilco is an overrated band. That doesn't mean they're bad though. But they've been long been heralded as darlings of indie rock, when the truth is they're fine, but not extraordinary. Jeff Tweedy's vocals are ok - not horrible - but not enough to fully draw in the listener or hook them. There is a lot to like on "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot," Wilco's most acclaimed album. But you have to be patient first through "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart," which is the overindulgent epitome of mocked indie rock. After that first track things improve, peaking at "Jesus Etc." Although critics lauded the album as a masterpiece and praised its complexity, I don't see it. Maybe the last 20 years of indie rock inspired in part by Wilco has simply passed it by.

It's German from the 70s? Uh-oh. The Wikipedia intro calls it krautrock? Double uh-oh. It all stems from "Faust IV," our first exposure to krautrock. I wrote in that review, though, that by the end of its awfulness I still didn't know what krautrock was. Then I didn't enjoy Kraftwerk. But Kraftwerk didn't sound like Faust. Then I think I skipped listening to Can. Then Neu! popped up, and my not fully earned anti-krautrock bias kicked in even before the first notes. I'm immediately dreading how bad it's going to be, and thinking of what other neu albums I could review instead? Something by The New Pornographers (several five-star albums)? Or "New Wave" by Against Me! (keeps the ! quota)? Or "The New Romance" by Pretty Girls Make Graves? But, I had to try Neu! first. And it turns out... it wasn't Faust. It wasn't Kraftwerk. And then I read about krautrock. And found out that "the term 'krautrock' was popularized by British music journalists as a humorous umbrella-label for the diverse German scene... although many so-labeled artists disliked the term" and "broad genre encompassing varied approaches." Well, yeah, now this makes a bit more sense. I can't get a handle on what krautrock is because it is too varied to even be a genre. Faust, Kraftwerk, Can, and Neu! all sound different. And Neu! doesn't sound terrible. It doesn't sound good either though. And it's not good isn't all the same. The first half of the album is completely different from the second half. The first half is boring piano-prog, the second half is boring rock. Nothing really stands out. Nothing feels avant garde, or experimental, or any of the other things that supposedly tie the genre together. I went back and listed to Can after "NEU! 75," so now I'll have to go back and write about how that one isn't like these either. I still don't like krautrock, as far as krautrock is a thing. I've gotta stop pre-judging based on a first impression. Gonna practice just listening and giving things a chance. It won't always work out, but sometimes at least I'll be surprised.

Although "Live/Dead" was recorded just one year before "Workingman's Dead" and "American Beauty," but the style differences are distinct. Though "Live/Dead" and "American Beauty" are the only Grateful Dead albums on the 1001, I think it's "Workingman's Dead" that I'm most familiar with. And so I'm most familiar with the folk and Americana version of the Grateful Dead. "Live/Dead" is my first exposure to a more psychedelic and blues influenced Dead. The middle of "Live/Dead" is its strength, but to get there you have to make it through 23 minutes of "Dark Star." That opening track just goes on and on, embodying the jam band reputation that the Dead would later fully embrace. But the tracks that follow are more focused, led by the standout bluesy "Turn on Your Love Light."

I recognized the album cover immediately. I know the name The Libertines. I know the name Pete Doherty. But I didn't know their music. At all. Even "Can't Stand Me Now," the first and most popular single, didn't ring a bell. That recognition of all but their music is a reminder of their notoriety. Particularly Doherty's notoriety. I recall Doherty being noteworthy more for his struggles with drug abuse than for his music. The Libertines may have briefly been darlings of the British rock scene, across the pond those tribulations made more of an impact than their songs. So what do The Libertines sound like? A little like every popular British band that came before them. "Can't Stand Me Now" is reminiscent of The Cure, other parts invoke The Beatles, but much of it fits into the post-punk revival of the early 00s. However, The Libertines pale in comparison to The Strokes, The Fratellis, The Vines, The Hives (what's with all the "The" bands?), and others. The middle of "The Libertines" had a some decent tracks, especially "The Ha Ha Wall," but overall the album was more forgettable than the band's drama. After The Libertines took a break, Doherty went on to form Babyshambles. I have no idea if Babyshambles were any better than The Libertines, but I don't think I can bear to listen to a band with such a ridiculous name to find out.

Not Vietnamese. Or from Vietnam. Or having anything at all to do with Vietnam. At first. Serious Japan (the band) vibes here. Hanoi Rocks also became popular in Japan (the country), but no word on what Vietnam thought of them. Maybe they would have grown in popularity in Asia and elsewhere, but the band didn’t survive the death of their drummer, Razzle. Razzle was a passenger in a car driven by a drunk Vince Neil of Motley Crue, and the two people in the other car suffered brain damage. Neil only went to jail for 30 days. I had to find “Back To Mystery City” on YouTube, and I can't say my dedication to tracking down this album was worth it. I’m glad I signed out first to prevent a wave of hair band recommendations from poisoning my algorithm. What about Asia (the band)? They don’t get a spot on the list? “Heat of the Moment” is better than anything from Hanoi Rocks or Japan.

“Loveless” and “m b v” came out 22 years apart. For my bloody valentine’s 10 year breakup and subsequent reunion to be bookended by two such acclaimed albums is pretty remarkable. It’s rare for a band to maintain success and/or critical acclaim over three decades, much less return to those heights after such a hiatus. As of this writing, shoe gaze is still listed in my summary as one of my least favorite genres. But I gave “Loveless” a three, and I enjoyed “m b v” at least as much if not more.

Gothy synthy garbage. From the discordant nonsense of the first instrumental track to all the grating vocals that followed, this was awful.

I’ve never heard so many gun shots used as sound effects in music. And it’s not just for that one sound either - there are even casings hitting the floor sometimes! 50 Cent really wants to make sure you know his gangsta background is legit. But from the start he kinda struck me as a caricature. The album cover says it all. This is a Curtis Jackson who has moved past a very colorful youth, and is cashing in on the image of the gangsta that was sold to America in the 90s. Other than the gun shots, the other thing I noticed most was the b****es. It is of course a big part of much of hip hop, but especially so from the late 90s onward. But b**** is a word that can have many different meanings. And they’ve all been used throughout the history of music (great article - https://www.npr.org/sections/therecord/2012/09/06/160672019/who-you-calling-a-b). But I think the way it’s used in modern hip hop takes it to a different level of aggressive misogyny. It makes it less fun to listen to when women are almost always reduced to conquests and sexual objects to be possessed. 50 Cent is hardly the worst offender here. Too many of songs are about shooting people to worry about women. But it’s still there to my discomfort. Except on “21 Questions.” That was so sweet! But maybe he needed to ask a 22nd question. “Is it ok if I angrily and aggressively call you a b****?”

“Unknown Pleasures” was much better than anticipated. Was it going to have too much obnoxious synth? Were the vocals going to drive me nuts? It turns out no, and mostly no. Joy Division’s debut was refreshingly guitar and bass driven, and created a much appreciated dark and gothic vibe that the synth-heavy bands always overshoot. And I wasn’t annoyed by Ian Curtis’ voice until the third song. Sometimes it’s just too silly and over the top, but sometimes it does work well. I liked “Unknown Pleasures” more than “Closer,” but it would still take Curtis reining in his excesses to win me over.

A Bollywood soundtrack!? Are soundtracks allowed here? Because I have some soundtracks I could suggest. I was kind of excited for some Bollywood music. But this barely felt like what I expected from Bollywood. It barely felt Indian at times, with seemingly a lot of influences from American styles like jazz and pop standards. Fun at times, but maybe I should watch “Shalimar” to get it in the full context.

There are three Kate Bush albums on the list. There don’t need to be. “The Dreaming” has “often characterised as her most uncommercial and experimental release,” and to that I would add “almost unlistenable.” There are some hints of Bush’s talent here, but they are overwhelmed by too many head-scratching moments. Artist should absolutely experiment. But not all of those experiments should leave the studio. I laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of so many parts of “The Dreaming.” NPR made a list of The 150 Greatest Albums Made By Women from a reader’s poll. The 1001 has women underrepresented, but Kate Bush’s three entries isn’t the problem. Somehow “Dreaming” made the NPR list, at #24. 🤷‍♂️. But ahead of it, and not on the 1001, are: Beyoncé - “Lemonade” Adele - “21” (was on but was taken off) Tori Amos - “Boys for Pele” Taylor Swift - “Reputation” (ok I don’t agree with this one) Then after 24, but also more deserving, are: Melissa Etheridge - “Yes I Am” Neko Case - “Fox Confessor Brings the Flood” Fiona Apple - “The Idler Wheel…” …and on, and on… Adele should have stayed on the list. Swift I could take or leave personally, but she probably deserves more on the list for her popularity and cultural impact. “Fox Confessor” is brilliant, ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️, and I’d love to see it on the list. But it’s Tori Amos and Fiona Apple that are most directly deserving of one Bush’s three spots. Apple’s “Idler Wheel” and “Fetch the Bolt Cutters” are experimental, like “The Dreaming,” but I think are more listenable (though I’m sure all won’t agree). Amos doesn’t get enough credit for her body of work and the many artists she inspired. Many women are deserving of one of Bush’s three spots, but I’d give it to “Boys for Pele.”

Lamb Chop was an iconic if annoying children’s entertainment sock puppet. Lambchop was a forgettable and annoying rock band. According to Wikipedia, Lambchop’s fifth album “Nixon” was a breakout for the band… in the UK. And now we see why it’s on the 1001. The title “Nixon” is a reference to Richard Nixon, but is the album about Nixon?? These guys are not so good with naming things. “Nixon” came out at the turn of the century, perhaps helping out its standing on the list, as 2000 placed 18 albums on the list but no year after hit more than 11. As for the music itself? I was bored. I’ve already forgotten what they sound like. But I’ll never forget what Lamp Chop sounded like. Cute puppet. But that voice? Um…

We listened to 50 Cent a week before “Ready to Die.” They were released just over 8 years apart. But the genre fell so far in those 8 years. Biggie and 50 have similar legit bonafides to make them legit “gangsta” rappers. But somehow the comparison to Biggie makes 50 sound like a poseur. Too much effort was made to make 50 seem hard. Especially since at the point in his life when he “made” it, his life had settled down. But Biggie felt like he went straight from the streets to stardom, and his music feels real and lived. It feels natural and honest. Biggie, Tupac, and Snoop launched rap to new heights, but their success also turned it into a commercial machine cranking out subpar lyricists with subpar flows just chasing a payday. There are still problematic glorifications of violence and objectification of women (“Me & My B****” is my least favorite track), but overall “Ready to Die” is one of the best mainstream gangsta rap albums of all time. It’s too bad that the classic sampling and scratching and horns found here would soon give way to some pretty bland production, annoying trap beats made on a laptop, and obnoxious auto-tuning.

I appreciate that Metallica uses lots of tempo shifts. A lot of metal (and punk) is a thousand miles an hour with no variation. That can wear out its welcome. Metallica never really gets quiet, but they do have levels. It builds. It breaks. And through it all, my favorite part of Metallica’s music is Kirk Hammett’s guitar work. It’s incredible - thrashing chords, solos, he does it all with ease. My least favorite part of Metallica’s music is James Hetfield’s vocals. Though I prefer 80s Hetfield before he started really overdoing everything. My least favorite part of Metallica is that Lars Ulrich (and Hetfield too) is a dick. He’s a great drummer though. All that is great in Metallica is present on “...And Justice For All.” Of course “One” is perhaps the track that puts it all together best, but “Harvester of Sorrow” is another good one. Still, I think “Ride the Lightning” is the better album, and it was left off the list. The first four songs on that album are a wild ride, maybe the best four song run of any of their albums.

“Raising Hell” may have done more than any other album to push hip hop into the mainstream. How much of that was the Aerosmith collaboration? Run-D.M.C. was mixing rock elements into their sound from the start, but it wasn’t until their third album here that they got the big breakthrough. Like with that self-titled debut, there are some terrific sounds, samples, beats, and melding of styles. But also like that debut, the flow of the rapping is what holds it back. The chanted style can work well in small amounts, but does get tiring over the long run.

The wild west was so romantic and violent. Or romanticized? Surely it was just like Marty Robbins and western movies made it sound, right?

I listened to "Fear Of Music" back-to-back with "More Songs About Buildings And Food," which we received nearly 350 albums ago. I'm kind of shocked how much I enjoyed them? In spite of David Byrne's vocals? I say in spite, because they're too weird right? Or is the oddness of the vocals fitting with the rest of the off-kilter presentation? I had surmised that the Talking Heads were too avante garde for me. Too artsy. Too weird for weirdness sake. But I actually found myself pleasantly surprised. Byrne's vocals work some of the time, but most of the time they just don't get too in the way of some interesting experimentation that manages to walk the tightrope of tolerable and sometimes exciting strangeness. I put this one slightly below "More Songs About Buildings And Food."

The Strokes auto-played when “Highly Evolved” was done. It was instantly clear they are so much better than The Vines. And I think that bears true for much of the garage rock revival of the early 2000s. The Vines just don’t stand out. I was not a fan of “Homesick,” “Factory,” or “In The Jungle,” and “Mary Jane’s” repetitive and juvenile five minutes was hard to bear. But it was followed by the decent “Ain’t No Room” - the album is an up and down roller coaster. “Outtathaway” and “Get Free” were hits for a reason though. They’ve been called “‘the second coming of Nirvana’ by the British press,” but they are largely unwarranted bar a couple of thrashy moments and vocal screams that never seem quite as genuine as Kurt Cobain. I did get some strong Stone Temple Pilots vibes a few times though. Ultimately The Vines stay on the 1001 was short lived. “Highly Evolved” is no longer on the list. And while too many 21st century albums have been pulled prematurely, this isn’t one of them. However, more deserving from 2002 and not on the list are: Interpol - “Turn on the Bright Lights” Queens of the Stone Age - “Songs for the Deaf” Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - “BRMC” All ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

C+C Music Factory was robbed! If the one-hit wonder of Deee-Lite makes the list, why not the two-hit wonder “Gonna Make You Sweat” as well? In truth, I’d rather neither made the list, though boy do they capture the vibe of 1990. But it’s a vibe that didn’t survive the early 90s. It all feels pretty cheesy and cringy looking back. “Groove Is In The Heart” is not enough to carry this unspectacular house party.

I never rated “Searching For The Young Soul Rebels” so I didn’t know what to expect from Dexys Midnight Runners. But “Don’t Stand Me Down” did not make me look forward to the two other Dexys albums on the list. So I then listened to “Searching” filled with dread, and was pleasantly surprised. But almost anything would be good compared to “Don’t Stand Me Down.” Overly long tracks that stop and start as if several songs in one, obnoxious overdone vocals, but above all the background mumble chatter. Not even spoken word, instead there were frequent moments of the artists muttering to each other, presumably in studio. So muffled that you wonder if you should turn it up to find out what they’re saying, only to get blasted when the music comes back in. It was like watching a movie with bad sound mixing on your inferior home audio system. Except worse. I don’t think even their namesake Dexedrine could get me moving to this musical embarrassment. Apparently it was so poorly received that it led to the band breaking up for almost 20 years. They may deserve a spot on the list for “Come On Eileen,” but that is not on this album. So let’s get rid of the single-star “Don’t Stand Me Down.” Offered instead: Alabama Shakes - “Sound & Color” Dexys alleges to have soul influences, but they’re hard to spot on “Don’t Stand Me Down.” So instead of too many white British dudes, how about Alabama Shakes, who legitimately brought soul and blues to garage rock in the 2010s, led by the amazing voice of Brittney Howard. Their debut “Boys & Girls” was fantastic, but it was “Sound & Color” that cemented them as a force in rock music. Excellent songwriting, emotional delivery, and just dripping with swagger and passion. It’s too bad they went on hiatus and their drummer turned out to be a douche, because I haven’t been able to get into Howard’s solo work as much. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The sparse guitar and drums on “The Pearl” let Harris’ voice stand out and introduced a great atmospheric for the album. Absolutely consistent from start to nearly finish. I love Dave Matthews, but his distinctive voice breaking the vibe stood out too much. On an album of collaborations it wouldn’t be a problem, but it didn’t work for “Red Dirt Girl.” Apparently Bruce Springsteen and Patty Griffin both did harmony parts, but they blended in more smoothly. I learned that despite this being Harris’ 19th album, she usually didn’t write her own material. Turns out she’s a great songwriter though, and the songs were just the right mix of country, folk, and rock.

The sophomore slump is a real thing. Athletes after a breakout rookie season. Sequels to hit movies. A second album after a groundbreaking debut. Following up on brilliance and genius is nearly impossible. Now, “Rumors” wasn’t Fleetwood Mac’s debut. In fact it was their 11th album. But it was a groundbreaking breakout like few others. After that kind of success, and the most unenviable tasking of following it, it’s no wonder Lindsey Buckingham wanted to go in other directions. But he didn’t choose the right directions. Kind of stunning to go from such a hit filled album to such a complete dud. There are a few good songs on “Tusk,” but because it was such a commercial dud they wound up having no lasting impact. Oh, and those good songs? They’re mostly Stevie Nicks. “Rumors” felt like more of a group effort. “Tusk” feels disjointed, with Buckingham, McVie, and Nicks each doing their own thing and not bothering trying to make it fit together. There was lots of band drama during the recording of “Rumors” right? Maybe it’s better that they not work too closely together. Though that strife did give us one of the greatest albums of all time.

Why would I want to “join in?” Everyone hates traffic. You’re stuck. You have no control. You’re going to be late. People are honking. Some jerk just drove up the shoulder to try to pass everyone. But we built up a totally car-focused infrastructure and lifestyle, and now we’re stuck with it. In spite of that I was “Feelin’ Alright,” but then the John Barleycorn woodwind solos returned on “Vagabond Virgin” and I got stuck in the gridrock. Most of it was fine though. (Traffic, not the traffic.)

Why have I heard of Big Star? Not only that, I’ve heard of Alex Chilton. But I have no idea why. It’s not because they have hits. Their biggest song was the out of nowhere non-Christmas carol about Jesus? “Third” didn’t help me understand why Big Star was a big deal. It got off to an odd start with “Kizza Me,” “Jesus Christ felt so out of place, “Holocaust” was a weird and dark mood killer, and they followed that song with one called “Kanga Roo?” The album is all over the place, but there are some signs of life and potential. “For You” and “You Can’t Have Me,” despite their contradictory titles, were the best songs on the album. “Til The End Of The Day” was great and I wish there was more like it. But apparently it wasn’t on the original “Third.” There have been several different versions - this seems like it was the 1992 version? Most of the “bonus tracks” are awful except for the Kinks cover “Til The End Of The Day,” so this version reflecting the bands “original intentions for the album” was best left on the studio floor. But at the end of that day, I’m left with one question above all to ask - why does Chilton sound British when he sings?

“Bossanova” starts with a great instrumental on “Cecilia Ann,” then descends into a mess on “Rock Music” until some signature Pixies guitar emerges in the second half and smoothes the way into the excellent “Velouria.” It stays solid from there, only getting weird for “Is She Weird?,” which is the kind of Pixies weird I like. Unfortunately, they don’t really push past solid. “All Over the World” is great, and “Hang Wire” and “Stormy Weather” are pretty good, but beyond that I think they needed to dig deeper for the fire.

This one was so special I had to share it with my high school students. They asked if it was music. I wasn't sure how to answer.

“Break Me Gently” is melodic, but also uses distorted vocals and some segments of dissonant and almost industrial background sounds. Industrial music by itself is a big turn off, but Doves show that sounds and concepts can be incorporated into other genres to great effect. Doves’ past as an electronic act called Sub Sub shows through in these parts, and that’s where “Lost Souls” is most interesting. “Melody Calls,” and more so “Catch The Sun,” kind of killed a great vibe they had going. At the start of “Melody Calls,” Jez Williams sings “Moving to a new sound; Waiting to forget the past” - Doves definitely moved to a new sound right there in that song. They shouldn’t have forgotten the past so quickly. The later tracks became a bit more radio-friendly and anthemic - more Coldplay than Radiohead - and to stand out in the early 2000s it took more than stadium-ready Britrock. I wrote the above paragraphs on my first listen. Then I never finished the review. When we got “Last Broadcast” 30 albums later, I revisited. The first six tracks of “Lost Souls” are great, but the back half of the album certainly suggested what was to come on their follow-up album. If not for that shift, I would think better of Doves, and this album. But judging the whole, comparisons to Radiohead are barely deserved, and those calling this the best British debut since Oasis’ “Definitely Maybe” expose the late-90s British music scene (though Portishead’s “Dummy” deserves mention). Those years did see some great electronica and trip hop releases, but British rock didn’t really get rolling again until the early 2000s (and it wasn’t Doves driving the revival). It was six years between the debuts of Oasis and Doves, but the six years after Doves saw the debuts of Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys, Bloc Party, Amy Winehouse, Gorillaz, Elbow, and more, ushering in an era of British music much better than the prior two decades, regardless of what Robert Dimery is trying to convince us about the 80s.

The success of “Come Away With Me” is baffling. Not because of Norah Jones’ talent, or because of the songs from the album. It is baffling because it is a lounge jazz record that is the 8th best selling album of all time by a female artist. (It’s labeled as “acoustic pop,” and while that might be true, it stands out from the other acoustic pop singer-songwriters of the early 2000s.) This album has every right to be popular, especially with Boomers who weren’t on Napster. But to gain the kind of sales it did, “Come Away With Me” had to transcend all barriers and appeal to a wider audience. The early 2000s were a weird time for popular culture, but no amount of weirdness explains the smashing success of Norah Jones’ debut. Except for the fact that it's really good. Lovely songs, sung in a mellow sultriness that truly makes you want to come away with her. And yet, I couldn’t help the feeling of boredom as the album progressed. I nearly fell asleep grading papers. But, if you’re a Boomer listening to jazzy singer-songwriters on your 5-disc changer, maybe a nap is what you’re actually looking for out of it.

I liked Rod Stewart's "Gasoline Alley" better than the album that preceded it, "Every Picture Tells A Story." I think. "Every Picture Tells A Story" didn't really make much of an impression, but looking back on my review I wasn't a fan. And I still think of "Maggie May" every time I hear Stewart's voice. Though on "Every Picture Tells A Story" I didn't like that song as much as I thought. But I quickly forgot that impression and went back to my idealized false impression of the song. Nothing on "Gasoline Alley" gives strong impressions of any kind though. It's fine, but nothing memorable. Stewart's voice is very recognizable as always, but these songs don't stick. My favorite Rod Stewart on the list remains his work on Jeff Beck's "Truth."

While I've heard of (but not heard) Michael Franti and Spearhead, I had no idea Franti started his career in a hip hop group. Franti's voice and flow is deep and rich - reminiscent of Chuck D, and the beats and instrumentation fit in well with the emerging alternative hip hop of the late 80s and early 90s with a little bit of trip hop mixed in. But "Hypocrisy Is The Greatest Luxury" is about the message. And those messages are pointed and wide-ranging. Franti digs deeper than the typical hip hop social commentary, delving into the environment, immigration, and other issues. The variety of topics helps, but the tendency towards very repetitive spoken word in some tracks could be improved with more of Franti's incisive lyrics. The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy evolved Gil Scott-Heron's spoken word for the hip hop era, but despite the potential in the concept, vocals, and beats, "Hypocrisy Is The Greatest Luxury" ultimately falls a bit short.

I like "Get Behind Me Satan" and "White Blood Cells" a lot, I just don't think they quite measure up to "Elephant." Jack and Meg are a powerful combo, and each White Stripes album has plenty of instant classics and experimental whimsy, but as a whole package I think only "Elephant" hits the mark consistently throughout. When we listened to "Blunderbuss" I was thinking through the distorted lens of nostalgia that I preferred The White Stripes to Jack White's later work. But now that we've gone back through it all, I think the solo work and The Raconteurs may be stronger in some ways. Nevertheless, the recognition shown to Jack White and The White Stripes on the 1001 is significant and not undeserved. There are two White Stripes albums on the list, another one that was on the list and later removed, and one Jack White solo album. Four total albums on the list from the 2000s is something no other artist has achieved - a clear sign that White's impact and influence on rock music in the 21st century are unrivaled. Though with that said I'm surprised I'm not personally giving White & co. more stars.

You could be forgiven for thinking that material for “New Gold Dream” was recorded between 1981 and 1984. But no, it came out in 1982. Maybe Simple Minds just got confused, since it was their fifth album in three years, and figured that they had recorded so much music that more time must have passed. It doesn’t seem like this album, or Simple Minds, made much of an impact stateside. But in a rarity for the 1001, this obscure very British early 80s album was actually pretty tolerable. New wave usually has vocals that are too over-the-top, or too much obnoxious synth (or both). But Simple Minds actually found a pretty decent balance. I don’t know if the rest of their prodigious early 80s output holds up, but “New Gold Dream” is one of my favorites from the genre. Now I have to go and confuse the summary machine further, making it think I like new wave more than shoegaze.

I never paid too much attention to the Beach Boys. Or gave them the credit that they likely deserved. Listening to their music on the 1001 hasn’t really changed that though. But reading their story and considering their influence and impact has. And it has also helped me realize that the Beach Boys music I know through cultural osmosis and enjoy the most are their surf rock pioneering that came before any of their 1001 albums. Other than the knowledge of the Boys style evolution, I’ve also learned about the Boys themselves. I knew vaguely of Brian’s mental health struggles, but that was the extent of it. But it goes much deeper than Brian’s breakdowns, or Dennis’ drug use. These boys had been groomed from their pre-teen and teenage years to be entertainment superstars, and abused by their demanding father. Not an unfamiliar story in the history of pop music. Were the Beach Boys that different from the Jackson 5 or the boy bands and Mickey Mouse Clubbers of the 90s? That early stardom and pressure certainly took its toll, and Dennis’ story shows that over and over. The connections to the Manson Family were wild, and his death was tragic. It seems like Dennis was the big outgoing personality, and Brian was the obsessive musician, each getting lost along the way and both feeling like they lacked control of their own journey in spite of, or maybe because of, their celebrity. Dennis Wilson’s solo album was neither surf rock or the evolution of their sound from the mid 60s. “Pacific Ocean Blue” was much more of the 1970s. The Beach Boys influences are there, on “River Song,” “What’s Wrong,” “Moonshine,” and “Rainbows,” but perhaps for that reason those are the least interesting tracks. Wilson stands out when he is forging unique paths combining diverse rock pastiches. As a result, “Pacific Ocean Blue” contains some very capable music, but not much that leaves a mark or lasting legacy the way his early work with his brothers did.

For a concept album addressing social issues, “Rhythm Nation” spent way too little time on addressing social issues. A “Rhythm Nation” that actually used music to unite people in a borderless and hateless society of belonging would be powerful, if that concept was pushed beyond the album’s music. However, Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation 1814” doesn’t do that. It doesn’t even push the concept through the album. Most of the tracks are typical R&B love and longing, and don’t rise to the occasion of a “sociopolitical utopia.” The idea behind it is brilliant - “I thought it would be great if we could create our own nation,” Jackson said, "one that would have a positive message and that everyone would be free to join.” That goal was made clear in the album's first lines - “We are a nation with no geographic boundaries, bound together through our beliefs. We are like-minded individuals, sharing a common vision, pushing toward a world rid of color-lines.” But that utopian nation was not the one described throughout the album. Instead, it was the ills of the United States in 1989 that were dissected. If the sum of the vision of the Rhythm Nation is labeling what is wrong with our present society, then the dream is unrealized. The furthest Jackson takes us is in “The Knowledge” which is unable to provide us with the depth of vision that the knowledge should be able to provide us, beyond the platitudes of “Prejudice (no); Ignorance (no); Bigotry (no); Illiteracy (no).” In spite of all that, the title track, “Miss You Much,” and “Escapade” still hold up decades later. But not much else makes an impact, other than the hard rock departure of “Black Cat.” Things quickly petered out though, as “Lonely” and “Come Back To Me” were boring and killed the album’s momentum. Taking the Rhythm Nation from conception to reality both in music and community would be truly monumental, but unfortunately Jackson does not meaningfully pursue that.

“Sure Shot” is a great intro. Then “Tough Guy” brings the punk blitz of early (and later) Beastie Boys and makes it clear that there’s no telling what to expect on “Ill Communication.” I love “Root Down,” and it makes a great 1-2 punch with “Sabotage.” The latter is the Boys’ most famous song. But I don’t feel like I can fairly evaluate it anymore. It has such deep roots in my psyche that I can’t disconnect from to be objective. I can’t not see that music video play through my head when I listen. But I’ll try… The song deftly weaves the Beastie Boys hip hop and punk leanings. The multiple breaks each work so well to build anticipation and hype. It’s brash and in-your-face, without the crassness and immaturity that plagued “Paul’s Boutique.” It might be peak Beastie Boys? And then “Sabotage” is followed by a Q-Tip feature, which cements “Ill Communication” as an evolution of the Beastie Boys’ style and sound. More variety follows with the instrumental “Sabrosa” and “The Update.” The rest of the album keeps the listener guessing, shifting styles and genres relentlessly in search of… something. I said in an earlier Beastie Boys review that “Ill Communication” was my entry point to the group. I now realize that was a lie. The first 7 tracks on “Ill Communication” was my entry point. I had no recollection of the rest of the album. Perhaps that is because it is so scattershot and without hooks that it doesn’t leave a lasting impression? The second half of the album is diverse and interesting, and points to professional and personal growth for the Beastie Boys, but ultimately fails to make the most of their potential. For me, “To the 5 Boroughs” is underrated, but still their best.

In anyone else's hands it would be too try-hard or cringy. But somehow Bruce Springsteen successfully embodies the earnest blue collar rocker by making it not just a schtick. He comes off as remarkably genuine, a rare thing in entertainment. Ultimately, however, "Darkness on the Edge of Town" doesn't surpass "Born to Run." It lacks the urgency and catchiness of its predecessor's title track, but is a solid collection of songs. Holding out hope that "Born in the USA" or "The Rising" is the Springsteen album that finally connects.

“Roots” starts so screamingly aggressive, but the second song provides hints of the potential of blending Brazilian and indigenous elements into Sepultura’s thrash metal sound. Unfortunately, that potential is mostly squandered. “Ratamahatta” is the best example of what could have been, and “Itsari” is a welcome respite from the metal. But the transition in sound that was more of a problem was the drift towards the 90s trend of nu metal. A problem, in that most nu metal is pretty awful. But less of a problem since Sepultura’s original sound was pretty awful too.

It was an impressive feat to follow up the message of “What’s Going On” with the sultry passion of “Let’s Get it On.” Unfortunately, beyond the opening title track, there’s not much to dig into here. “Please Don’t Stay,” “If I Should Die Tonight,” and “Keep Getting it On” try to keep the momentum going, but none are as catchy as what precedes them. At least they were better than side two, which was pretty forgettable.

“Gematria” is awful, but 1:30 into “Sulfur” you can see Slipknot’s potential. When Corey Taylor actually sings, and really cuts loose, Slipknot can compete with the best nu metal. However, that happens far too rarely, and the best nu metal isn’t even that good anyway. The majority of “All Hope is Gone” consists of growling and incessant kick drums, with cringy lyrics piled on top. But from a band that identifies members by number and wears goofy horror masks and matching jumpsuits, I’m not sure what better could really be expected.

Bonnie Raitt won Best Female Rock Vocal for this album, and Best Female Pop Vocal for the title track. “Nick of Time” is an album that deftly weaves between genres - easy listening, honky tonk, blues rock, pop, Americana - and I think that’s what gave it such broad appeal. It made a slow climb to the number one album on the strength of the deserved hits “Nick of Time” and “Thing Called Love,” and has the neat distinction of being the longest from an artist's debut on the Billboard chart to having an album hit number one. It revitalized Raitt’s career and probably did a great deal to inspire a decade of pop country singers. I really want to give it four stars for those first two songs, but the rest of the album never reaches those levels again.

The Beta Band were heroes - with 2001’s “Hot Shots II” added to the list, followed by “Heroes to Zeroes.” Then they were zeroes - with no albums remaining on the list. They, along with Adele, Christina Aguilera, and Kings of Leon, are the artists with two or more albums formerly on the list and nothing left. Interesting company to keep. What makes an artist worthy of such temporary acclaim? With the Beta Band, they bring a little bit of timelessness, kind of an updated take on late Beatles that sounds like it could come from any time between 1994-2014. It’s fine - no real objections. But then no real reason to keep it on the list either.

There are some flashes of the potential of ambient music, which Eno would steer towards in the late 70s, along with some interesting rock-based instrumentals. But the album is all over the place. It never allows the listener to fully sink into it, because it jars you to attention with vocals like “I’ll come running to tie your shoes” and overly whimsical sounds of “Little Fishes” that don’t fit any kind of consistent vibe.

The intro from “Tubular Bells” was famously used in the movie “The Exorcist.” Somehow that was enough to elevate this album to a must-listen and Mike Oldfield to a national treasure worthy of an Olympics ceremony performance? It’s a memorable bit of music, but it doesn’t even feel like a horror theme. It sounds more adventurous or magical. If I had never seen or heard it, I wouldn’t guess it was used in “The Exorcist.” There is a lot that is interesting on “Tubular Bells,” but it all feels so random and disjointed. Progressive rock needs to ebb and flow, with threads of sound coming in and out to unite the piece. Prog songs tend to be long, but the 26 minutes here is just excessive, and mostly missing those hallmarks of the genre. “Tubular Bells (Pt. 1)” sounds like several separate songs - though all mostly interesting. Until the 20 minute mark, with the unexpected naming of the instruments. Luckily the song finally ends after that derailment, and “(Pt. 2)” gets back on track.

The hits are great, but too many others are slow and boring.

We finally finished Elvis Costello’s four albums on the list.

I thought “Frank,” Amy Winehouse’s debut, was great. But “Back to Black” is a phenomenal follow-up full of growth the way few musicians are able to pull off on their sophomore album. But as unique as Winehouse might be as a vocalist, perhaps “Back to Black” should be credited to Amy Winehouse & The Dap-Kings? The Dap-Kings are too often unrecognized for their work with Sharon Jones, but they feel like the driving force behind the sound on “Back to Black,” alongside producer Mark Ronson and other contributors. In fact, 49 musicians were credited on the album. All this is not to diminish Winehouse’s talents. She was a great songwriter and one of the most special voices of her generation. “Rehab” was deservedly a huge hit, but actually feels a little out of place on “Back to Black.” The rest of the album is very unified stylistically, and presents a really cool evolution for Winehouse. It would have been so special to see where she went from there.

“Bad Company,” the song on the album “Bad Company” by the band Bad Company, is iconic. And a bold move. Some bands name themselves after a song from a band they idolize. Some name themselves after a song one of the members wrote prior to their coming together. But only a handful are bold enough to go with the trifecta Bad Company achieved with their debut album and hit song. So it’s a good thing that song is iconic enough that no one who ever hears it will ever forget the name Bad Company. “Can’t Get Enough” and “Ready For Love” are nearly as memorable, and three of eight songs being lasting hits is a pretty good debut. But it doesn’t all hit that mark. “Don’t Let Me Down” let me down. The album didn’t need a ballad. “Movin’ On” almost got things back on track, but in the end was just kind of there. I felt like moving on from the album even though it didn’t drag on for five minutes like some of these songs. There’s nothing groundbreaking about Bad Company. The album is very much of its era, with vocals and wailing guitars screaming early 70s, alongside the hints of blues and folk that was well-integrated by the best 70s bands. A solid album by a confident band, but mostly forgettable beyond the hits.

Our fourth and final Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds album sent me on a reflective journey through our group’s experience with the Caveman. (Do his fans call him that? They totally should.) I really didn’t care for “Murder Ballads” or “The Boatman’s Call.” I definitely listened to “Abattoir Blues” 650 albums ago, but never reviewed it. Our group as a whole though clearly didn’t care for Nick Cave, especially his vocals. But perhaps one of us understood: pretentiousass on Nick Cave’s “The Boatman’s Call” - “Nick Cave seems like he lives in a dirty dive bar and chain smokes Winstons with his band. He is stressed and oppressed by the world above him. Down here, he owns his domain. He's thoughtful and means every word he breathes. The first listen was joyless and settled me down in a chair of disappointment... Nick, go outside and spend some time in the sun, buddy, that bar is killing you.” Spoken like a true Caveman. But I get it now. Sort of. Maybe the vocals on “Henry’s Dream” are better than “Murder Ballads” or “The Boatman’s Call?” The instrumentation, which hellyeah has some appreciation for, isn’t drowned out by the chain-smoking moans the way I remember from those other two albums. But I’m not willing to go back to them to see if my judgment and memory was clouded by the dirty dive bar. I was willing to go back to “Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus.” The vocals were also not as terrible as I’d feared. I remember disliking the album, but we were only 60 albums in, and I hadn’t been subjected to as many awful entries as I have now. Maybe my perspective has shifted. The arrangements and back-up singing on “Abattoir Blues” made me imagine some kind of weird musical set in the aforementioned dive bar. Ultimately, only the biggest Cavemen would think Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds deserve four albums on the list. But I think I’d be ok with “Henry’s Dream” and “Abattoir Blues” remaining.

The first time I listened to The Auteurs’ “New Wave,” I let it fade into the background. That was the right move. I was not rewarded by a closer listen. Some of the guitars found a nice balance between clarity and fuzz, but the issue was Luke Haines’ vocals, especially when they were plaintively whispered. Haines was the driving force behind the band, who played guitar and piano in addition to the strained whispers. He also may have been the driving force behind the rise of Britpop. We shouldn’t thank him for that, and he wouldn’t want the thanks either. As Blur and Oasis far surpassed The Auteurs, Haines’ career stalled and it sounds like he became a bit bitter and rebellious. Britpop had some major ups and downs for me, but The Auteurs isn’t an up or one I want to return to. At the end of the day, it’s really the vocals that get in the way of everything else, which just wasn’t spectacular enough to make up for it. Like many British bands with barely-earned places on the list. The Guardian nailed it in a review of an Auteurs concert 10 years after “New Wave.” “This is all the more impressive because he can't sing. Twenty songs' worth of malevolence is conveyed in a baby's whisper, which has the perverse effect of emphasizing his disgust.”

Even the least remarkable member of CSNY got a solo album on the list? Actually, scratch that - Graham Nash didn’t make it? But he was the British one! Stills is great as a collaborator in CSNY’s harmonies. But as a solo artist his work is just ok. Some decent folk rock. Some less decent country leanings. Nothing really memorable. Instead of working on a whole double album of mediocre songs, Stills should have focused on making a smaller set really stand out.

From the exclamations of “hoooo!” at the start of the opening title track, it was immediately clear that this album was going to be a pleasant surprise. It only got better with “We Will Not Be Lovers,” which never made me regret a bit of its seven minutes. There were a couple of missteps, as “And a Bang on the Ear” did drag on too long, and the country-western tinge of “Has Anybody Here Seen Hank?” didn’t fit with the traditional Irish and Scottish flavor and high energy of the rest of the album. Thankfully, an actual traditional song, “When Will We Be Married?” quickly brings back the violin. I’ve seen members of our group and on r/1001AlbumsGenerator on Reddit appreciate finding new favorites through the list, but ¾ of the way through I had been feeling that far too infrequently. Things I had no prior knowledge of too often seemed like duds. But The Waterboys broke through the mire. I checked out some of their songs from their previous album, reputed to be more rock-oriented, and found several great tracks. Pretty interesting to see them come up in the same setting as U2 only to diverge in a different direction. The missteps in the middle of the album might make this a 4-star album, but I’ve got to give it a 5-star review.

Laura Nyro’s music doesn’t sound like the album cover for “Eli and the Thirteenth Confession.” That cover screams sultry, smoky, jazz-influenced singer-songwriter. That girl on the cover looks like she has a great voice. But I don’t really care for Laura Nyro’s voice on those first few faster R&B tracks. When things slowed down and got jazzier or folkier, it worked a bit better.

The Klaxons' "Myths of the Near Future" is fine. But that's not really a glowing recommendation is it? Are we now in the "near future" in re 2007? Are we living the myths? But what are those myths anyway? It's apparently a very literary album, with references to Greek mythology, famous authors, and Mayan prophecies, but that's really more forward-looking than delivering the myths of the yet-to-come. It seems the Klaxons were trying a little too hard to be the artsy rockers. The Klaxons also declared their style "new rave," attempting to be the forerunners of a new genre. Trouble is, they're not very ravey? Or the forerunners of whatever it is. Credit there should go to bands like Bloc Party and Franz Ferdinand, who were the leading edge of a dancier style of rock music in the early to mid 00s. Fittingly, The Klaxons have fallen victim to the 1001's tendency to too quickly prune post-2000 albums. Fellow 2007 album "Oracular Spectacular" by MGMT met the same fate, but that one far more deserved to remain. Franz Ferdinand's debut, which won the Mercury Prize like "Myths of the Near Future," also got the axe. I'm eagerly awaiting Franz Ferdinand and MGMT when we finally draw them, and I'm pretty sure I'll find that they deserved to remain on the list. The Klaxons... not so much. (And Bloc Party's debut, "Silent Alarm," is also a deserving four-or-five star album.)

1969 was a prolific year for the Fairport Convention, with “Liege and Lief” their third album of the year. They must not have been doing as many drugs as their compatriots. Or maybe they were on copious uppers and that was their secret? But I don’t feel like “Liege and Lief” is the kind of album that would come out of a benzo binge. Instead, it’s a welcome evolution from “Unhalfbricking.” The folk of that album was fine, but a turn towards more traditional British and Celtic folk songs and styles helped The Fairport Convention stand out among their peers in the late 60s. “Liege and Lief” could have used a bit more rousing violin, but maybe that’s a sign that it wasn’t amphetamines behind their proliferative output. But the traditional songs mixed well with their original tracks, and on the whole the album established a warm and full aura that I enjoyed. The Fairport Convention might be one I find myself coming back to, and will remember to place Sandy Denny’s name alongside Janis Joplin and Grace Slick as one of the best female rock/folk vocalists of that era.

Falling short on the TBZ/JBZ 2/3 cutoff, as Tim Buckley’s style takes another swing. At first psychedelic folk, then jazzier, now with “Greetings From LA” funkier, but never really nailing any of it enough to break through.

There are 88 albums that have been removed from the list? The website I use lists 77 - it may be out of date. But of those 77, 73 are from the 21st century. But U2’s “All That You Can’t Leave Behind” isn’t one of them. It should be. “All That You Can’t Leave Behind” brought a career resurgence for U2. It was a turn away from a more experimental sound and style that they explored in the 90s, but it was an overcorrection. “Beautiful Day” deserved all the acclaim and spins it got as an ideal pop-rock track. But in hindsight, the song has been run into the ground. I’d be happy to never hear it again. It is followed by “Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of,” which further loses my attention. The “woo’s” that begin “Elevation” are the best part of the album, but the song doesn’t live up to those heights. On the other hand, “Walk On” may actually be the single from the album that holds up best. While those singles may have been overplayed and overhyped, there are some other, more interesting tracks on the album. “Kite” isn’t too bad, and “In a Little While” has a restrained, sparse, and clean guitar that is a refreshing shift for U2. The hits might be overplayed, but they are attention-grabbers. “Wild Honey” and “Peace on Earth” are not. The back half of the album is pretty forgettable. At the time “All That You Can’t Leave Behind” came out, when people thought of U2, the image that came to mind was “The Fly” version of Bono with the ridiculous glasses. This album and tour effectively transformed U2, and made everyone forget their previous wanderings.It solidified them as a long-lasting, incredibly successful arena rock band. I don’t really like the album, and think it pales in comparison to their early work, but I’m almost convincing myself of its value on the list?

Elbow apparently made a big deal about the use of dynamic range on “Seldom Seen Kid,” and my musically uneducated self attempted to dig into the term, leading me to try to learn about the “Loudness War.” It seems the Loudness War is all about trying to buck the trend of “crushing” and “squashing” the music because of a misguided belief that “louder is better.” Louder crushed tracks would be favored by the hitmakers for radio play and whatever? But all the audiophiles think this was ruining the music and instead pushed for more dynamic range between the loud and soft moments of a song. I have no understanding of the mixing process, but those waging the Loudness War can hash it out. Just as my taste buds aren’t advanced enough to appreciate a fine wine, it seems my hearing may not be capable of discerning the presence of dynamic range. But I can appreciate “Seldom Seen Kid” for other reasons.

“Last Broadcast” picks up where “Lost Souls” left off, and not in a good way. Doves’ sophomore album mostly follows in the footsteps of the second half of their debut, which was a let down after it started strong. “Where We’re Calling From” was the most interesting thing on “Last Broadcast,” and it was too short and jarringly transitioned into the louder and blander “N.Y.” “Friday’s Dust” also diverges nicely from the arena Britrock boilerplate and harkens back to those first few tracks on “Lost Souls,” but on the whole Doves just don’t stand out above post-Britpop (definitely had to look that up) bands like Coldplay, Snow Patrol, Travis, and Keane. I thought I had heard Doves before back when we had “Lost Souls,” but it wasn’t from that. Wasn’t from “Last Broadcast” either. Turns out it was “Black and White Town” from 2005’s “Some Cities.” And that song is good. Catchy. Worthy of radio spins. But worthy of the 1001? Not really, and neither is “Last Broadcast” or the back half of “Lost Souls.” I think this might be the fifth album this month that made me wish Bloc Party’s “Silent Alarm” was on the list instead. So I’m finally gonna go listen to that now.

Well, I can’t say “Opus Dei” wasn’t interesting. Or learning about Laibach and the NSK State. But I can say it was confusing. Both the music and the story behind it. Totalitarianism, facism, and communism did weird things to Eastern Europe. The harshness of the political and economic climate seems to have seeped into everything, which is the only way I can explain the direction rock and industrial music evolved in Germany and points eastward in the 70s and 80s. As much as I may have learned in the process, “Opus Dei” is still a one star album. And so a replacement must be nominated. For every one-star album, I pick a personal favorite 5-star album that didn’t get recognition from the list. And the last couple months, I have repeatedly lamented each time an overrated British band came up and found one album continuously coming to mind: Bloc Party - “Silent Alarm” ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ The energy on this 2005 debut album is unmatched. It begins with the brilliant cascading entry on “Like Eating Glass” of the whirling guitars followed by a driving bass beat and then finally the drums kick in. And it never lets up.

Alanis Morissette sounds like a parody of herself. It’s immediately apparent on the opening track, “All I Really Want.” Is it yodels? Or donkey moans? Or just overly dramatic and exaggerated? I recently saw her do a duet with James Corden updating the lyrics of “Ironic.” Corden was clearly doing a humorous exaggeration of Morissette’s vocals, style, and mannerisms. Except he sounded just like she does. The overall sound of the album, minus the vocals, is very rooted in the mid-90s. Somewhere in between grunge and alternative rock and the pop rock that would dominate the second half of the decade. That sweet spot, along with rock radio and MTV getting fully behind “Ironic,” launched “Jagged Little Pill” into the stratosphere. It really can’t be understated. It’s the 14th best selling album of all time! No other female-fronted rock act has come anywhere close. The album is packed with hits beyond “Ironic,” but the best songs may not have been the singles. I think? Maybe I just got sick of the singles, which often had the most egregious vocal excessiveness. But some of the other songs were pleasant surprises barring some excessive yodeling - I was a bit taken by parts of “Forgiven” that almost sound like they came from Pearl Jam’s “Vitalogy,” which came out a year prior. I’m always fascinated by the rock musicians that record under the name of lead singer/guitarist rather than as a band. It seems like more of a pop star kind of thing, but many artists all over the rock spectrum have done it. Going solo is rarely actually solo. And it wasn’t just studio musicians on “Jagged Little Pill” - Dave Navarro and Flea played on “You Oughta Know.” But maybe this was a pop album clothed as a rock record. Morissette’s first two albums, put out through MCA Records Canada, were never released in the States and are no longer in print. But the Alanis of those records was described as the “Debbie Gibson of Canada” - her jagged rock star turn was a departure from her early pop days. Or was her alt rock debut just a pop record with era-appropriate guitars?

The title track is a brilliant song that has unfortunately been beaten to death to the point where it now comes off as almost a saccharine parody of itself. Through no fault of John Lennon. That leaves “Gimme Some Truth” as the real standout track on the album - it leads the way for a stronger second half, but overall I prefer the “Plastic Ono Band” album.

Well, that one came out of left field. Ok, ok. But actually, it really did. It at first seemed like a random mid-90s techno album, but I was quickly convinced that it belonged. Well, not too quickly. The first track was boring - I wasn’t wild about the vocals, and then the second half almost felt like “The Macarena” was about to kick in. But starting with the second song things got more interesting, and “Leftism” takes off from there and never lets up. This was not, in fact, a random mid-90s techno album. And it’s on the list because it’s a groundbreaking and influential banger. “Storm 3000” was familiar, but I couldn’t place if I had heard it before or just similar things it inspired. It’s interesting that “Open Up” was the biggest hit of the album, because I think it’s the worst song on the album. Love the Sex Pistols, but Johnny Rotten’s vocals on “Open Up” don’t work. The end of the song gets back to the vibe that makes the record memorable.

I originally scored this a 4, wrote half a review, and then never finished it. Returning to it after “Ragged Glory,” it may be suffering from being my second Neil Young album of the day, which may just be too much. Or maybe it’s suffering from the fact that there are 7 Neil Young albums on the list(!), and here at #1015 we still haven’t hit the last of them (“Harvest”). Neil Young’s voice can be hit or miss. It can be grating, or it can work harmoniously with his very well-crafted songs. Sometimes harmony is the key - his voice is often best when layered with others. “After the Gold Rush” is near the finest of folk rock, with “Southern Man” foremost among a solid collection of tracks. While that song is the highlight, the album as a whole keeps a steady vibe even if it never hits that peak again. Interestingly, despite recording the album with most of Crazy Horse, the album is credited just to Neil Young, rather than Neil Young & Crazy Horse. I remain beguiled by the choices groups make in regards to solo v. group naming.

Ministry surprised me from the start, as “N.W.O.” had me bopping my head to the beat and the thrashing guitars of the rest of the album kept the momentum going. It was like Metallica, but with guttural growling instead of James Hetfield’s pretentious vocals. Which was actually a good thing. Then you throw in a bunch of random industrial sounds that actually often seem to mesh really well with their dynamic? Why does all of this work? There was plenty of snarling electronic weirdness, woven through random spoken audio samples, but I somehow found it fitting rather than off-putting. But I should have stuck to just listening. The actual title of this album is “ΚΕΦΑΛΗΞΘ,” though it is more commonly known as “Psalm 69” or “Psalm 69: The Way to Succeed and the Way to Suck Eggs.” This indulgent nonsense of a title is actually a reference to British occultist Aleister Crowely’s “Book of Lies,” but more importantly is an indication of Ministry’s juvenile obsession with the number 69, and the reason I now know that Wikipedia navigation popups can contain explicit images.

Even as a follow-up to “OK Computer,” “Kid A” and “Amnesiac” were bold moves by Radiohead. The music is sweeping, challenging, orchestral, haunting, electronic, discordant, pulling the listener into an aural storm. “Kid A” remains on the 1001, while “Amnesiac” has been removed in later editions. I think this is the right call, although I love parts of both albums. But “Kid A” had the biggest impact, as the direct extension of the “OK Computer” evolution. Both albums came out of the same recording sessions, so it's fitting to choose just one as essential Or maybe replace them both with the 2021 double album reissue? Whether you love it or hate it, I think this absolutely fits the bill as music that you’ve gotta listen to at least once in your lifetime.

I wasn't a huge Strokes fan. I always kind of got the impression that Julian Casablancas was pretentious and full of himself. I have no idea if that impression was at all justified, I just thought he gave off a bit of a vibe in what little I saw of him early in The Strokes’ career. Not to make his head even bigger, but I think The Strokes may have saved rock music. The Strokes broke through with “Is This It” in 2001 (the same year as The White Stripes “White Blood Cells” at a time when mainstream rock was in a downward spiral. The post-grunge years had left a void that was being quickly filled by edgier and edgier nu-metal and rap rock, and it looked like a bleak future dominated by the likes of Limp Bizkits, Korns, Slipknots, Papa Roaches, and Stainds. But along came The Strokes and The White Stripes, and the influence they had over the next 10 years of rock music can’t be understated. I wasn’t a huge Strokes fan, but listening to “Is This It” I could hear their fingerprints on the next decade-plus of rock music. The garage rock elements gave space to the less flashy and commercial White Stripes, Black Keys, and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. The jangly danceable guitars paved the way for Franz Ferdinand, Walk the Moon, Fun/Bleachers, and many more. The in-your-face old-school rocker stardom inspired The Libertines, Kings of Leon, and The Killers. I wasn’t a huge Strokes fan. But I knew this whole album. I didn’t follow them afterwards, but “Is This It” is undeniably catchy, pulsating, and well-crafted from start to finish. I’m not quite sure I can get behind “Barely Legal,” even when written by a 20-year-old, but every other song completely captures me and transports me back to the early 2000s, when in the midst of 9/11, Total Request Live, the Bush presidency, boy bands and Nickelback, The Strokes lit the way for rock bands in the 21st century. I’m sorry I thought you were all-ego, Casablancas - you and Albert Hammond, Jr. deserve all the accolades you received. It sounds hyperbolic, but I’m serious. Emerging rock artists may never again reach the commercial heights they did in the 90s, but great music abounds.

Lloyd Cole & The Commotions’ “Rattlesnake” is a British jangle pop album from the 1980s by a band I’d never heard of. But in a shocker, I didn’t hate it. Didn’t really like it either. The vocals were just this side of the turn-off range. But some of the jangly pop was pleasant (and some was too cheesy). But before even listening, as soon as I saw the name of the album’s hit single, “Are You Ready to be Heartbroken,” something clicked. That sounds familiar? By a guy named Lloyd? I immediately remembered Camera Obscura’s “Lloyd, I’m Ready to be Heartbroken,” and spent most of “Rattlesnake” wishing for Camera Obscura instead. That song, from their 2006 album “Let’s Get Out of This Country,” was written in response to the Lloyd Cole track. But in response Camera Obscura exceeds The Commotions in every way. It’s a fun and lovely album. British jangle pop from the 00s > British jangle pop from the 80s Lloyd Cole & The Commotions are really only worthy of a ⭐️⭐️, but Camera Obscura earns a ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️, so we’ll throw Lloyd and additional ⭐️ for the reminder of a great song.

Robbie Williams was a big deal in the UK. Take That was supposed to be the British answer to New Kids on the Block, and was the biggest thing in England since The Beatles. But the manufactured boy band and Williams’ solo career barely made an impact across the pond. I recognize and remember Robbie Williams, but don’t remember his music. I was expecting “Life Through A Lens” to be a pop record, but most of it was not. The first three songs were surprisingly rock-oriented. Then the biggest hit, “Angels,” is a full-on piano ballad followed by a dramatic tonal shift to “South of the Border.” “Old Before I Die” gets back to the uninspired rock of the first few tracks, but it’s all quickly forgotten. No wonder the Oasis-driven Britpop of the mid to late 90s hit so big - it didn’t take much to top the boring generic pop and rock of Take That and Robbie Williams.

I didn’t quite “get” the brilliance of “Pet Sounds,” so I was probably unlikely to get the long-lost follow-up that saw Brian Wilson collapsing under the pressure to live up to the label of “genius.” It is kind of amazing that Wilson came back to this music decades after his mental health deteriorated during the original recording sessions. That had to dig up some trauma. I feel like most of this music would benefit from more simplicity, but instead Wilson adds layers upon layers - of backing vocals, or unconventional instruments. And sometimes he really just lets the weirdness flow. Is it music intended for children? Hippies on a trip? Or just a statement of challenge to those calling Wilson a genius? Sometimes I think artists who receive that label test the critics (and the public) to see just how far they can take things, just what they can get away with and have people fawn over this oh-so-very deep art. We could analyze the art all day, but in the end, the album rarely made me smile, instead just leaving me quizzically curious. Wilson might have come back to the material after decades, but it’s not something I would return to.

Still looking for a good time, I headed back to the club for another boogie down with CHIC a year later. I was unfazed by my previous escapade passing out on the velvet sofa waiting for “Le Freak,” and chose to look past the cultural tide trying to turn against disco. Who cared about “Disco Demolition Night?” What did Chicago White Sox fans know about music anyway? When the disco ball was spinning and the records were playing, there was no cure for disco fever. Trouble is, the oil crisis brought on by those crazy cats in Iran made it so that I couldn’t afford to fill the tank of my Cutlass Supreme, so I was walking that night. The walk wore me out, but a stop at Big Jim’s buzzed me right back up. And this time, my buzz was met right away by some “Good Times.” I left my cares behind, and the good times kept going. And going. And going. And then they finally stopped. Abruptly. And they never got going again after that opening song. I was really disappointed, and I started to rethink my disco devotion. The next week, rather than heading back to the club, I burned my bell bottoms in a back alley trash can and hauled my records down to Comiskey Park. Halfway through the third inning I started throwing them on the field. First CHIC, then KC and the Sunshine Band. I hurled a Bee Gees record so far it smacked Chet Lemon in the back of the head in left field. Security and the police dragged me away - apparently Disco Demolition Night didn’t go very well and it’s not ok to throw your unwanted albums at baseball players. But everything turned out alright. I met some punks in the slammer and they inspired me to pick up a studded leather jacket and “London Calling” when I made bail. They even said it’s ok to throw things at punk shows!

What the heck was going on in Glasgow in the early 1970s? And even before that. It seems the experiences that had a lasting impact on Alex Harvey and informed his later behavior and songwriting started young. He was “just a child” in the story told in “Next?” Well, how old of a child?? And they played that song on the radio in Cleveland in 1974?? But Harvey got no tenderness, instead only a case of gonorrhea, and it’s no wonder that some years later he wrote and sang about the experience paired with another song about a 27-guy “Gang Bang.” Sometimes I don’t really pay attention to the lyrics. Should’ve gone that route here. The group’s over-the-top theatricality may have made a big impact on many musicians in the late-70s, but I’m not sure that is enough to justify this otherwise obscure entry on the list.

A 25-year-old pop star sees your 17-year-old daughter dancing at a club and immediately asks her and her friend to join him on tour as a dancer and back up singer, even though they have no singing or professional dancing experience. Do you let her go? If you said yes, you might have a lot in common with the parents of Joanne Catherall and Susanne Sulley. And their school, which let them go because the European tour would be a good educational experience. Joanne wound up in a romantic relationship with that 25-year-old pop star, Philip Oakey of Human League. The renewed Human League, now 50% underage girls, put out “Dare!” Unfortunately, no amount of teenage backup singing makes up for Oakey’s voice, which is everything I dislike about early 80s British synth-pop. Along with the surprisingly boring tracks, “Dare!” goes nowhere until the very end. “Don’t You Want Me” actually holds up really well, as long as you enjoy the poppy hook and don’t think about it too hard. Don’t think about how it became a duet after the success of “A Star is Born.” Don’t think about Oakey’s much younger duet partner, or that he got the idea for the lyrics from a teen girl magazine. And definitely don’t think about those lyrics about how he plucked her from obscurity and is now manipulating her to stay.

The fact that I had to hunt on YouTube for Throwing Muses’ debut is fitting, considering it comes from a gap in my music knowledge. I just barely missed out on the alternative and indie rock of the late 80s, only catching up on bits of it much later. I didn’t discover Violent Femmes until the mid 90s, or the Pixies until the early 00s. But despite vaguely recognizing the band name and the name Kristin Hersch, I had never (knowingly) heard Throwing Muses. I’m glad now to have rectified that, and I can now appreciate both their sound and their influence. Their emergence into the indie rock scene out of Boston in the mid 80s also brought us the Pixies, when the Pixies joined them on their European tour and followed them onto British label 4AD. And Throwing Muses’ influence can be heard on many female-led rock acts of the 90s and beyond. Hersch’s voice made an immediate impact, though I can’t quite say whether I like it or not. Sometimes it works really well with the band’s constantly shifting gritty DIY soundscape. Sometimes it stands out negatively for being a bit too warbly or yodely. Not quite on the Alanis Morissette level, but Alanis must have heard Hersch and been influenced by her. I was also reminded of Sleater Kinney in the erupting screams and guitars that ebb and then burst forth. I previously opined on the way the Pixies cleaned their sound up after their debut to positive effect, but I think with Throwing Muses it was the opposite. I listened to later Throwing Muses songs, and found I enjoyed the rawness of this debut more. Either way, they are a band that deserves more recognition for their impact, and better distribution for this influential work.

I was one of the middle-class white boys in the 90s listening to Wu-Tang and trying to pretend they were badass. Although, maybe less badass and more giggling in a smoke-filled car. At the time, I don’t think I appreciated the album’s significance. I was too busy laughing at the thought of Method Man “sewing your @$$hole shut and keep feedin’ ya and feedin’ ya.” I didn’t realize that the album came out three years before I was listening, and that places it in a different context. This collective of amazing talents were not examples of the east coast hip hop renaissance, they were the heralds of it.

This needed some follow up albums or sequels exploring the theme: “Deep Purple in Jazz?” “Deep Purple in Pop?” “Deep Purple in Hip Hop?” “Deep Purple in Electronica?” So much potential there. Instead we just get rock. It’s good rock. Classic, even.

You’ve gotta love Missy Elliot preaching peace, love, dancing, and safe sex. She urged a new direction, in hip hop and our culture in general, and I’m sad more didn’t hear her pleading. It’s clear from the narration in the intro how impacted she was by 9/11 and the death of Aaliyah, and I love that she took that pain and turned it into positivity. Elliot deftly moves between silly, serious, and sultry, aided by great features and beats. Timbaland is one of my favorite hip hop producers, and while this album doesn’t feature his best work, it still keeps you bopping and grooving. But it’s the writing, themes, and Missy’s flow that really carries things here. Missy is for everyone. Even The Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Nick Zinner said that "Karen [O, Yeah Yeah Yeahs' singer] and I listened to it all the time. We used to play it before we'd go onstage... 'Funky Fresh Dressed' is my favorite track. I don't know what else to say other than it's amazing." If you want to have a good time or boost your mood, throw on “Under Construction.”

I only wanted one, but we got two. Rufus Wainwright bores me too much to be on the list twice.

I once again regret not having listened to more PJ Harvey. Just the right amount of abrasive intensity in both vocals and guitars. Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth just put out a song called “I’m a Man,” and I thought of it while listening to “Man Size.” It reminded me of how much influence Sonic Youth likely had on PJ Harvey, and how much influence Harvey likely had on those who followed in the large footsteps of this “50ft Queenie.” One more PJ Harvey album to go, and I’ll be eagerly anticipating it.

When I saw an album from 2011 that I had never heard of, I rushed to rash judgment. With so few albums from the 2010s on the list, what made this worthy. What about… well, what about what? There were some epic albums in the 2010s, but it turns out 2011 might not have been the best year for music. Three albums from 2011 have made the 1001 list, but only White Denim and PJ Harvey remain. Are they the ones most worthy? I’d argue that the second Adele album should have stayed. But beyond that I don’t have a lot of strong candidates to unseat White Denim. There are a lot of artists who put out albums in 2011 that deserve an album on the list. It just shouldn’t be their 2011 album. All strong albums, but not necessarily the best choice to represent the artist if you’re only gonna listen to one of their albums before you die. This goes for St. Vincent, Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes, Florence & The Machine, The Decembrists, Drake, and Cage the Elephant. (And maybe my favorite of the year, but a harder sell for the list - The Joy Formidable’s “Big Roar.”) So who was White Denim to merit placement? And this was all before listening 😂. Maybe I should just listen first. Because White Denim was actually quite enjoyable. They toured with Wilco in support of this album, which seems pretty fitting, though I think I prefer White Denim to the more lauded Wilco. “D” is a little lacking in identity, a bit all over the place, but each place they took us to was well-navigated. They fit nicely in with contemporaries like My Morning Jacket and Band of Horses in blending psychedelic rock, folk, and Americana with something new. I’m still not sure this is the 2011 album that belongs on the list, but I certainly didn’t mind getting exposed to it.

I had no idea that the legend of Bob Dylan had a very un-legendary stretch from the late 70s to the mid 90s. And that it included a three album run of very religious tunes after he converted to Christianity. But it seems he found his way back from the wilderness, with his 30th studio album (!!!!!) “Time Out of Mind.” He didn’t find his way back to folk or gospel, though. He found his way back to creativity, but he did so exploring the blues. And with most things Dylan, sometimes his voice works, and sometimes it doesn’t. With more than two decades of wear and tear on his voice past the Dylan I’m familiar with, sometimes the gravelly grit is just too much. But for a lot of “Time Out of Mind” things mesh fairly well. His voice did feel totally off on “Make You Feel My Love” though. Because “Make You Feel My Love” is a Dylan song!? Pretty sure I associate it most with Adele, who recorded it on her debut album, but now I’m wondering if I knew the Billy Joel version that came out the same year as “Time Out of Mind?” Dylan’s resurgence on this album is an impressive feat, but writing one of the few songs to become a pop standard in modern times is a nice little side story.

So much of rock and roll, and popular American music in general, is built around rebellion against authority of various kinds. And yet it barely scratches the surface of rebellion, coming in a society of free speech and democratic government. In authoritarian societies, rebellion through music or any other means is far more dangerous and potentially powerful. Criticizing soldiers as “zombies” would be tame in America, but in Nigeria it got Fela Kuti’s compound burned down and his mother killed. For singing "Zombie no go walk unless you tell am to walk!?" Harsh. And he didn’t even sing that until 10 minutes into the song. But for those minor slights, the government sicced those zombies on Kuti’s compound, burning it down and killing his mother. Musicians in the US have it easy! Freedom of speech and rule of law? The biggest threat being Tipper Gore and the Parents Music Resource Center? Instead of complaining about the man, maybe American artists should be thanking the man! (Relax. I’m kidding. Mostly.)

I’m familiar with the single of the same name, and the first several songs were squarely in that zone. And then all of a sudden we were experimenting! World music, a bit of a hip hop beat… not what I was expecting from the Boss. And while most of the rest was all too same-y and drab, I wouldn’t exactly say those experiments worked. Maybe it’s because I’m so used to a certain sound I associate with Springsteen. I think I keep hoping for an idealized version of Springsteen to be the reality. While I’ve heard the hits, I don’t think I ever listened to a whole album until the 1001. I had built up the cultural icon of Bruce in my head based on those hits and general reputation and aura, and that’s setting yourself up for disappointment. In my “Darkness at the Edge of Town” review I hoped that one of the last two Springsteen albums on the list would be the one that connected with me and helped me see the brilliance of the Boss. Alas, this was not it. Down to “Born in the USA” to wow me then.

Je ne comprends pas le français. Je ne sais pas de quoi parlait MC Solaar. Cependant, j'apprécie le style du chant et des rythmes.

Vulnicura might mean "cure for wounds" in Latin, but the word brought to mind the volcanic nature of Björk’s home country of Iceland. And so I went into it hoping for the eruptions of intensity that I enjoy in Björk’s earlier work. “Black Lake” came the closest to the eruption I was looking for. But it never quite bursts forth the way I was hoping. Not the way songs from “Post” like “Hyperballad'' ebb and flow and explode and soar over peaks. “Vulnicura” is symphonic, with Björk’s signature passionate and pained vocals, lovely at times and disarming at others. But nothing feels quite as intense. With three entries on the list, I would have placed “Post” and “Homogenic” with “Debut” instead of “Vulnicura” and “Vespertine.” “Post” - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - is Björk’s best, and it's a mystery why it’s not on the 1001.

“A Little Deeper” won the Mercury Prize, an annual music prize awarded for the best album released by a musical act from the United Kingdom or Ireland, and most Mercury Prize winners (at least until 2010) are on the 1001. While the list might have general British bias, the Mercury Prize-winners are at least some of the more worthy. And since some of those prizewinners didn’t make much impact in the States, it's a good glimpse of what was popular in England in the 90s and 00s. Ms. Dynamite is talented, and her work is refreshing, but it seems its acclaim may have been more due to its novelty than its brilliance. She won in the award’s 11th year, and was the first hip hop act recognized. Her writing and rapping have great flow and are great at defying genre norms, especially when it comes to subject matter. And the beats are approachable and include lots of vibrant instrumentation. But it's all more good than great. The first half of the album was stronger, and it would have benefitted from a trimmer 40 minutes instead of pushing past an hour. Maybe it was just a weak year for British music though. Other nominees included The Coral and Doves, both of which I was underwhelmed by. I actually would have picked The Streets “Original Pirate Material,” though at least instead we’re still to get their follow up “A Grand Don’t Come For Free.”

This is our 4th Who album, and I apparently never wrote a review for any of them. Likely a sign that I have had trouble deciding what exactly I think of The Who. They have a lot of talent, and a handful of songs I like a lot. I actually like Roger Daltrey’s voice and Pete Townshend’s songwriting, even if they may be douchebags. “The Who Sell Out” crystallized a bit quicker for me though. I dig the idea of a concept album posing as broadcasts from a pirate radio station, but the execution doesn’t grab me. The songs are mostly fine (“I Can See For Miles and Miles” is of course the stand-out), and while none of the interludes are objectionable, they just seemed like they were there. They didn’t seem to connect or build an identity of these fictional radio interlopers. Maybe if I was a mod in 1960s London it would have seemed a brilliant skewering of mainstream culture, but it doesn’t stand the test of time.

The first eight songs on Moby’s “Play” is one of the greatest streaks of bangers I can think of. Effortlessly weaving through electronica, rock, blues, ambient, hip hop, and more, it’s an amazing collection of hits. The first half of this album is an easy five stars. Then “Machete” slices in as the first and only dud. Moby recovers from there, and the rest of the 18 tracks are fine, even good. But nothing stands out the way those first eight did. I had actually restarted listening multiple times, loving the start on each occasion, but after finally getting past “Natural Blues” I was shocked at how much it dropped off. I had to go back to the beginning again to listen through new ears. Maybe I remembered the start of the album so fondly because of nostalgia? But upon further inspection, I really think it’s just that nothing on the back half holds up, and it drags down the whole. Those first eight were all hit singles for a reason. And if they were the whole album, I would be able to give this a half star higher.

“Cole’s Corner” is really not my style of music. But Richard Hawley smoothly and anachronistically defied eras with this 2005 album. Nothing is spectacular here, but Hawley’s voice is pleasing and his style somehow merges Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Nick DrakeI would never have been able to tell you that this album came out in the 2000s. But knowing it was a British album from the 2000s that made the 1001, I could tell you that it must have been nominated for the Mercury Prize. Which is a good thing, I think. It shows that the modern British albums on the list have been widely acclaimed and are deserving of the attention. And even though 2005 was a pretty strong year for British music (Arctic Monkeys won and other nominees included Thom Yorke, Muse, and Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan), Hawley feels deserving.

Four of our last five albums have been British. One was a Mercury Prize winner, one was a Mercury Prize nominee, one came out before the award existed, and then there was Sabres of Paradise. It didn’t warrant a nomination in 1994, the award’s third year. It peaked at 57 on the UK albums chart, and only placed 47th on British music mag NME’s best of 1994 list. All this is to call into question why “Haunted Dancehall” made the 1001. It seems to go beyond the general British bias. I didn’t find the album to be bad. It's just not good. It’s bland and uninspiring. I let it fade into the background, and was actually vibing and tapping my foot a bit until the horns and Latin influence on “Wilmot” shifted the direction. It did make its way back to its more generic electronica, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. At least I noticed “Wilmot.” Though it was best not to take too much notice of “Haunted Dancehall,” because that would expose its mundane and pedestrian sound.

Kanye West worked his ass off to break through in the music industry, then dropped one of the greatest debut albums in rap history. And 20 years later, look what he’s become. There are a lot of tragedies in the history of hip hop. Most of them sadly end in death. But instead Kanye’s story was one of a steady decline into paranoia, celebrity excess, mental illness, and hate. Kanye is culturally significant for a lot of reasons, many of them dubious. But “The College Dropout” is why Kanye is musically significant. I can’t stand him now, but I can’t deny the brilliance of his start any more than I can deny the lunacy of his present. “College Dropout” treads a fine line, with Kanye walking in two worlds - one of hip hop’s excesses of dope and bling, and one of consciousness and social critique. The writing is self-aware and filled with references and call-outs. The guest spots are well placed. Kanye demonstrates his rapping skills with a great flow and often seems to be having fun. And there isn’t a hint of auto-tuned vocals. It’s surprising that he had such a difficult time getting an opportunity as a rapper and not just as a producer. His talent and skills are evident throughout “The College Dropout.” If only things hadn’t gone steadily downhill after “Graduation.” He is now a terrible person dealing with likely mental illness, but I can’t imagine completely missing out on his early work because of who he’s become. There are a lot of terrible people in the history of popular music. I don’t know how to rank or compare their different crimes and aggravations, but my bar is higher than this for flat out refusing to even listen to the music. I’ll definitely judge it with caveats, through a different lens than I would have when it first came out. I’ve deducted a single star from other artists who turned out to be awful people - how do Ye’s shenanigans and hate compare to that? Musically, in a vacuum, this is a five star album.

Is Morrissey threatening to hunt me? I’ll not be your quarry, sir. He may be a douche and debatably a bit of a racist, but he’s an anti-hunting animal rights activist. But hunting people is ok? (Oh, and speaking of debatably racist - he’s become rather anti-immigrant, but his parents immigrated from Ireland to England. Ah, but of course he’s only anti-immigrant depending on where the immigrants are coming from, huh?) My recent fixation on the Mercury Prize takes an interesting turn here. Because amidst all these other nominees and winners we’ve listened to recently, Morrissey’s “You Are The Quarry” actually was not nominated. And it hasn’t remained on the 1001 either. Its inclusion from the start seems a mistake, helped along by an overfondness for The Smiths and early Morrissey solo work. The worst is right at the start. “America Is Not The World.” The sheer irony of an Englishman telling another country that “I just wish you'd stay where you belong.” At least he seems to have no more love for his native country though on “Irish Blood, English Heart.” That song is one of the most palatable on an otherwise irritating album. Most of the time, I can’t stand the way Morrissey uses his voice. But occasionally he tones it down and pairs it with music that fits well, and “Irish Blood, English Heart” was one of those rare examples. Nothing else on “You Are The Quarry” struck me though. Sorry, Morrissey, your hunt failed to capture me.

Multiple times now I’ve gotten excited for a fusion of western rock and traditional Indian music, and multiple times I’ve been disappointed. “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” and “Light My Fire” were fun, but once the novelty effect wears off it gets boring.

We reach the end of the list’s Björk. Or do we?? Some debuts are hard to top. Some bands and musicians come out of the gates with the fire and inspiration of youth, and even beyond a sophomore slump can never quite find that peak again. Björk’s “Debut” isn’t her peak, though. It’s a great start for an artist clearly willing to pursue bold experimentation, but much of “Debut” is oddly too safe. She took her unique voice and wrapped it in electronica, but as daring as her vocals might be, the house beats push no envelopes. Those vocals are best when they really crest and break loose, and I wished for more of that here. But “Debut” was only Björk’s debut as a solo artist. I had forgotten that, but something here reminded me to look up where she got her start - with the pop rock band Sugarcubes. I checked out a couple songs, and was immediately taken by the pairing of Björk’s voice with a rock background. So I checked the list, and it turns out we are not at the end of the list’s Björk - the Sugarcubes' debut awaits us.

It’s very hard for double albums not to wear out their welcome. But the Beatles’ White Album manages it, even with several silly or bizarre songs that seek to derail the momentum. It helps that each of those oddball tracks is followed in short order by an absolute classic, and also that the Beatles may have been the last masters of the short, concise rock song that didn’t overstay its welcome. (At least until punk took on that mantle.) With so many notable tracks, I can’t single out any of them to extoll its virtues. Different things stand out to me on different listens, and this time around I paid more attention to “Yer Blues” than I think I have before. I do think it's interesting, though, that as many times as I’ve heard the White Album, there are still bits where I’m confused because I’m expecting the Jay-Z mash-up from Danger Mouse’s “The Grey Album” to kick in.

That was annoying. Where was the wizard? Can we get one to help make this disappear? But there was no wizard, I fear. Just like there was no true star. Unsurprisingly, this album killed Todd Rundgren’s career. Surprisingly, this career-killing album made the 1001. ⭐️ But we need a wizard. Not just any wizard, I think. How about a Lizard Wizard? Accompanied by a King Gizzard? I’ve actually been meaning to check out some of the prolific output of Australian band King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard for some time, daunted by the sheer volume of it. But none of it can be any worse than false wizard Todd Rundgren. It turns out I don’t think KGLW is a five-star replacement. But I would still argue for a place on the list, if just for completely unrivaled prolific productivity, consistently pushing the envelope of genre boundaries. They are prog and hard rock, but at a pace of two albums a year for more than a decade it's no surprise that their sound is a bit all over the place, dabbling into funk, heavy metal, and psychedelic rock. Some of the bands of the 1960s and 70s were putting out an album a year for a while, but that breakneck pace has since become incredibly rare, with 2-3 years between albums becoming the norm. Maybe it’s better that way for the artists. But somehow KGLW makes it work. Still, it would be fascinating to see if they could make a five-star album if they spent the time to refine their plethora of ideas down to one honed and concise statement of their sound. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Two TV on the Radio albums have made the list. The wrong one was removed. Their best didn’t ever appear.

Don’t cheat on Dwight Yoakam. He’ll kill you. And he’s really worried about women lying to him. He killed the red dress woman too? At least he just left the girl in track 6 and didn’t murder her too. Sharon Stone gave him a chance after all that? In other Yoakam yodels, a Southerner died in LA from drinking. Which was bad, because he was too far from home. But “the bottle had robbed him of all his rebel pride?” And here I’d thought the bottle was the only thing that gave people pride in a rebellion that failed over 100 years ago. When Yoakam isn’t singing about killing deceitful women or how much he hates California, he gets really cheesy on “Floyd County” and “Send Me the Pillow” before a super-religious ending with “Hold on to God.” Maybe someone let Dwight know that killing someone in revenge isn’t really godly. Well, maybe godly but not Jesus-y. This is such boring, boilerplate, overtwanged country music. Country is my least favorite genre, but the 1001 doesn’t do a good job of representing it. Garth Brooks, the best-selling country artist of all time (and 2nd highest-certified all time based on certifications of albums and digital singles), didn’t make the list. The top two female country stars of all time, Shania Twain and Reba McEntire, don’t have a single album between them on the list. I don’t really care for any of those artists, but they deserve a spot far more than Dwight Yoakam.

Billy Joel is the 22nd best selling artist of all time (7th highest-certified all time based on certifications of albums and digital singles). “The Stranger” is his only album on the 1001. I’ve never considered myself a Billy Joel fan. I know the hits. But I feel like the Piano Man deserves more. (More accolades, not more album sales. That’s wild enough as it is.) Maybe it’s an issue with the overall strength of his albums. “The Stranger” is great start to finish. The tracks are not all hits, but the ones between the hits keep up the vibe and quality of the album. Of the four hits on “The Stranger,” “Movin’ Out” and “Only the Good Die Young” are all-timers. And while they are cheesy, “Just the Way You Are” and “She’s Always a Woman” are fantastic as well. I briefly checked out “The Piano Man” and “An Innocent Man,” and they don’t seem quite as consistent. Those hits I know are from the radio. So never together, never in succession. Going through and listening to them all now elevates every single one of them. I feel like I like each of them better when placed more properly in the context of his other work.

Hey, that’s the theme song from “That 70’s Show!” Only not quite? I wonder how much Big Star gets from their song being covered for the intro of one of the most syndicated sitcoms of the last couple decades? It’s not even their version used, but it’s still their most lasting legacy. Which is a bit sad and underwhelming. It might be their “#1 Record,” but it’s not a #1 record.

Gotta give it up to Bowie here. You can sometimes clearly tell it’s him, but really only when the vocals are so very… Bowie. But it consistently sounds and feels very 2016. It doesn’t sound like an aging nostalgia act pumping out the same old stuff. It sounds fresh and fitting the times. Like he’d been listening to TV on the Radio, Animal Collective, and other 21st century indie rock.

Hey hey, we’re the… former boy band trying to make it as real musicians? But who other than Justin Timberlake and Michael Jackson have made it beyond the manufactured malaise? I remember watching “The Monkees” as a kid. Must have been the revival on Nickelodeon in 1986. And I must have been the right age to dig it? What I didn’t know as a 6-year-old watching reruns of a 60s show in the 80s was the behind-the-scenes struggle in the creation and evolution of The Monkees. It’s an interesting story. Maybe more interesting than most of the music it produced. Their two preceding albums may have been cranked out by the machine, but the iconic hits from those albums stand out more than the “Headquarters” tunes the Monkees wrote themselves.

It was charming to hear Willie on these classic covers, but these are some of the slowest and most boring versions of some already slow songs I’ve heard. Willie’s voice is not really good. But it’s also kind of great, you know? The trouble is these songs don’t show off his personality and charm, key elements in his talent and mystique. I think the idea of pop standards that would be covered and performed by lots of different singers was a great element of popular music in the mid-1900s, and I kind of wish it was still a thing. Sure, lots of artists do covers today, but rarely do we get an album of a star disappearing into the music of their inspirations and predecessors.

The Whigs were first a party opposed to an absolute Catholic monarchy in England in the late 1600s. Later, the Whigs were a party opposed to an overpowered executive in 1800s America. Still later, the Afghan Whigs were a party opposed to the dominance of Persian hair pieces. Or were they a party opposed to the centralized power of the communist government in Afghanistan in the late 1980s? Alas, these Afghan Whigs were just an American alternative rock band fond of unnecessary h’s. But they’re more fun to listen to than anyone describing the history of various Whig political parties. It was Rick McCollum’s guitar and John Curley’s bass that carried “Gentlemen,” but Greg Dulli’s vocals actually grew on me over the course of the album and a second listen. Similarly, I first thought the guest vocals by Marcy Mays on “My Curse” brought things to a screeching halt, but those too got a little better as the emotion and intensity built. I loved the haunting atmosphere of the closing track “Brother Woodrow,” and found myself not wanting it to end despite its over five minute length. It was a fitting coda on an album that felt very much like an album - a cohesive collection of songs carefully crafted to be listened to together, apparently inspired by Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks” in the use of recurring melodic riffs and lyrical imagery.

It’s not fair, really. These are some terrific live performances. That’s performances plural. Like several other live albums on the list, it’s not a single performance. So even though Morrison and his band were completely on fire for this tour, it seems unfair to put together a kind of greatest hits live album and consider it for this list. And that consideration doesn’t seem to exist at all for anything after 1990 (with the exception of Nirvana’s “Unplugged”), though there are lots of pre-90s live albums. Does it really matter how or where an album was recorded? Live on stage or over time in a studio? In one take in one studio, or over many months in different studios? I dunno, it still seems unfair somehow to consider live albums, and to pretty exclusively consider older live albums.

I thought we were done with Nick Cave!? But here we are back again, with 2019’s “Ghosteen.” The website I’ve been using with a listing of the 1001 albums is evidently incomplete. “Ghosteen” must be in a newer edition of the book? We recently saw “Hadestown” on Broadway, and Nick Cave’s spoken intro at the start of “Ghosteen” reminded me of Hermes setting the scene and introducing the characters to open the musical. Beyond that, the music is not reminiscent of “Hadestown.” But it’s also not reminiscent of Nick Cave. And that’s a good thing. Cave’s singing is much more tolerable, and fits the haunting atmosphere well. “Ghosteen” is long, and drags in parts, but it's a great package. It doesn’t come from the same dirty dive bar as Cave’s 90s work - the evolution in his style is appreciated. The “Hadestown” reminder is also serendipitous since Cave did his own retelling of Orpheus’ story on “Lyre of Orpheus.”

According to Wikipedia, “bassist Steve Hanley, whose melodic, circular bass lines are widely credited with shaping the band's sound.” What Wikipedia doesn’t say is that singer Mark Smith is what ruins The Fall.

An icon and a legend.

The songs with Rod Stewart on vocals are much more engaging and memorable. The ones with Ronnie Lane are a major let down, and keep the album from maintaining momentum. Now that we have sampled the full range of Rod Stewart, I can say that his work with Jeff Beck was my favorite, with Faces and his solo hits a bit below. He’s an artist really best enjoyed via best-of compilations. The original album apparently came with a poster that was a collage of pictures that included the band and crew with naked groupies. It amazes me the pull that Rod Stewart apparently had. That voice, sure. But the face? And the hair? It was a different time? I remember being surprised in the 90s that he was with Rachel Hunter, but apparently he’s been with quite the string of models, with eight kids from five different women. It’s apparently been like that for his whole career, though hearing his work with Jeff Beck and Faces have finally helped me understand the context of all that. But the best Rod Stewart knowledge to come from all this is definitely that he is a model train enthusiast, with a collection that includes a layout that is more square feet than the average American home. Toot, toot, Rod!

Lots of different styles, none of which I particularly enjoyed. Ackles’ voice is pleasant, but boring. He might be a great lyricist, but it was too much of a snoozer for me to listen again more closely. Kind of a head-scratcher of an inclusion here, until you read that Elvis Costello was inspired by Ackles. So in a way, Ackles might be just an extension of the overextension of Costello on the list.

If your sex is on fire, you should consult your doctor or call the fire department. We finally hit Kings of Leon. I kept thinking how weird it was that we were nearly 800 albums in and had yet to encounter this band with three albums on the list. Well, not really on the list. Formerly on the list. Because the other weird thing is that while three different KoL records have appeared on the 1001, none remain. “Only By The Night” is the latest of the KoL albums to make the list. Did it replace the other two, but then fell victim to the 20th century bias of the list and eventually fall off itself? How does a band worthy of making the list with three different albums wind up totally shut out? I do think KoL deserves representation on the list. But which album? I listened to KoL a bunch when these albums first came out, but not so much in the last decade. But a quick look back had me feeling that it may actually be “Because of the Times,” KoL’s third album and the odd one out in this early stretch of their career not to appear on the 1001, that I liked the best. As for “Only By The Night,” it starts majestically. The wah/reverb/whatever-that’s-called intro of “Closer” is a great way to open an album. They build momentum through “Closer” and “Crawl” before squandering it with “Sex on Fire.” Not that “Sex on Fire” isn’t a great sounding song. As long as you don’t listen to the lyrics. Apparently that didn’t dissuade people though. That song was a huge hit. It won a Grammy. “Use Somebody” won a Grammy too. Somehow not the same year, though? How do two singles from the same album win awards in different years? Regardless, this was peak Kings of Leon. (Peak popularity at least.) They’ve fallen off since then, but they were on a pretty hot run. Sometimes his vocals veer into overwrought twanginess, but I love the way Caleb Followill lets his voice break and crack. It sets the tone for a band that feels always just on the edge of losing control, only to rein it in and keep roaring.

She may have been so unusual at the time, but Cyndi Lauper became the archetype of the 1980s American girl. It wasn’t just that she wanted to have fun - she wanted to break away from the stereotypes and constraints put on women in American culture.

I normally lament the 2010s albums that make the list only to get removed in the next edition. But not here. “The Next Day” is terrible. “Blackstar” came out three years after this, has stuck around on the list, and is so much more deserving. I’m not sure I really like “Blackstar” that much, but it was a fitting reinvention of Bowie’s sound, and actually worked much better with his voice. On the other hand, “The Next Day” feels like it was added only because it was a new Bowie album, but when hindsight judged it to be an utterly unmemorable Bowie album, the rare good removal decision was made.

A 2010s album that didn’t immediately get removed from the list! Likely because FKA Twig’s debut is fresh and genre-bending. It’s described as avant pop, alternative R&B, and electronic, but it also gives off lots of trip-hop vibes. I enjoyed “LP1” more and more as it progressed, and then went back for several more listens over the next week. A much buzzed about artist that lives up to the hype, glad to have been finally pushed to check her work out. A very strong ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️, and a few more listens might even push it into ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ territory.

Bob Mould is an artist I always meant to explore more, but I am surprised that his representation on the 1001 is through Sugar. Hüsker Dü, Mould’s 80s post-hardcore band, seems like the one with a bigger impact and influence, with Sugar only putting out two albums in the 90s. Meanwhile, Hüsker Dü’s “Zen Arcade” made some best of the 80s lists, including placing #33 on Rolling Stone’s top 100 albums of the decade. But Sugar doesn’t leave much of an impression. Sugar should be addictive. Sugar should result in a jolt of energy. It starts off decent enough, enough that on a second listen I thought after the first few tracks that my initial judgment had been too harsh. But the further in you get, the more it feels like there is a direct line from Sugar to Goo Goo Dolls and other bland late 90s rock. While “Copper Blue” may not have made much of an impression on me, it has at least prodded me to try out some Hüsker Dü (which I definitely like better than Sugar) and helped me discover down the Wikipedia rabbit hole that Bob Mould wrote the Daily Show’s theme song and even had a short-lived stint as a pro wrestling writer for WCW.

“I can’t live without my telephone” is simultaneously very dated and very applicable today. The rest of Coldcut’s “What’s That Noise?” is just dated. And sometimes pretty annoying.

Duke Ellington’s “Ellington at Newport” is one of the oldest albums on a list that for the most part begins with the dawn of rock and roll. It is both a time capsule of the pre-rock era of music, and also apparently a revitalization of Ellington’s career, which began long before anything on the list. The list has to have its limits, but it's right that some of that big band and jazz music must be listened to before you die, and Ellington’s band seems as good a representation as any. Ellington is great as a pianist and band leader, but it’s the horns that really stand out from the performance. Great stuff. Great musicians. Great band. Great band leader.

Literally “White Reggae!?” At least they owned it. I would've assumed “Regatta De Blanc” was a race of white boats. The hooky poppiness of “Message in a Bottle” and “Walking on the Moon” had me thinking this would be a safe 80s pop rock record worthy of entering a yacht in the “Regatta De Blanc.” But in fact it’s from 1979, before Reaganomics saw everything commercialized by hippies-turned-yuppies. “Regatta De Blanc” is a last gasp before everything really did turn to yachts and the soft rock that powered them. This was the first time I ever heard a connection between The Police and Jane’s Addiction (“Deathwish”); elsewhere the album was very reggae-inspired, but somehow walked a fine line of inspiration without overdoing it or feeling too much like appropriation.

I was expecting something much more ghoulish, with a feeling like it came from some twisted punk or metal version of Dracula’s crypt. Instead Rocket From The Crypt delivered no rockets or crypts or vampires, just fairly safe if mildly horny ska-adjacent punk songs. Reduce your expectations for something more interesting and “Scream Dracula Scream” is a decent album. “On A Rope” was vaguely familiar, and the only really notable misstep was the cringy repetition of “Do you want some cheese with your whine” on “Ball Lightning.” But it wasn’t until near the end that “Salt Future” caught my attention as the first track I would bother repeating. The lead of RFTC is the guitarist from Drive Like Jehu, which is ultimately a much more dynamic and intriguing band. This came out the same year as one of the most egregious omissions from the 1001 - No Doubt’s “Tragic Kingdom,” a much more deserving ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ album. This is probably a three-star album, but I’m docking it a star for taking No Doubt’s spot.

Well that was not the “No Woman No Cry” version I was expecting. But the rest was Bob Marley as expected. I wasn’t familiar with the rest of “Natty Dread,” but it felt familiar all the same.

Maybe when this is all done I’ll go try to listen to the Beatles chronologically. It would be super interesting to see how they evolved. Here near the start it’s so tight and by-the-book, focused songs, no frills. But they could use an intro or a solo sometimes. There’s no room for anything to breathe here. It almost feels like they’re trying to get through the songs as quick as possible without really speeding up at all? And why does the Beatles doing covers feel so odd? Ultimately, there are no signs of a revolution here. It may be near the peak of early 60s carefully label-crafted boy band pop music, but even though the Beatles wrote these songs themselves they still feel like they came out of the pop machine as opposed to the bursting creativity of their later work. But this is the stuff that enabled the British Invasion and the millions of screaming Beatlemaniacs in the US. It’s the safe stuff that made them a worldwide sensation and allowed them the goodwill to be followed through the experimentation of the years to come.

At first, I thought this sounded very 2012. That was right around the peak of what I’ve always referred to as Mostly Cheery Dancy Rock™. Made a whole playlist. It suits the mood sometimes. Bleachers, Young the Giant, WALK THE MOON, Empire of the Sun, BØRNS, M83, Bastille, MGMT, you know the type. But I’d never heard of Django Django. Turns out it's not Mostly Cheery Dancy Rock. It’s better. None of the aforementioned is on the list. MGMT was, but was undeservedly removed. I think maybe Bleachers should be there. Turns out Hot Chip’s 2012 album is on the list, but we haven’t hit it yet with 30 left to go. So we’ll revisit Mostly Cheery Dancy Rock. But again, Django Django isn’t that. It was a terrific surprise, and one that I’ll be sure to revisit. And put on a playlist. But not that one.

I guess I hit rock bottom on 4/20/2024. According to the Fun Lovin’ Criminals, if ya got em, smoke em. But if ya don’t got em, ya hit rock bottem (sic?). I had no scooby snacks. But I did have a chance to listen to one of the most mid-90s albums imaginable. I absolutely remember “Scooby Snacks.” And remember the general vibe that Fun Lovin’ Criminals fit snugly in. Rap rock before rap rock was abrasive and aggressive. But what was this one-hit wonder doing on the 1001? As usual, the answer is England. For some reason, FLC really caught on in the UK. Good for them. Even at rock bottom, I still had fun with “Come Find Yourself.”

It’s been just over 20 years since Franz Ferdinand debuted, giving us some good timing to reflect on “Take Me Out” and its impact on a couple decades of indie rock. I don’t know that I ever listened to this whole album. But I’ve long since lost count of how many times I’ve heard “Take Me Out” and countless songs that feel like they took direct inspiration from it. Mostly cheery dancey indie rock is what I’ve always called it. What followed in the footsteps of Franz Ferdinand brought a breath of fresh air to alternative rock radio, one key element of what emerged from the rap rock and post-grunge malaise. A well deserved Mercury Prize winner and well deserved entry in the 1001. What’s that you say? It was removed from later editions? 🙄 Of course.

“Murmur” and “Violent Femmes” were released a day apart. As much as any one album or band can be responsible, that week in April 1983 may have been the start of alternative and indie rock. Opening your first album with “Radio Free Europe” is statement-making. What follows is incredibly consistent, with Peter Buck’s jangly guitar and Mike Mills’ driving bass weaving in and out through 12 great tracks. Not just the next decade of alternative rock and college radio owe a great debt to R.E.M. - the influence they had extends even into 21st century indie rock. I listened to R.E.M. when I was younger, but just casually. Maybe the only album I owned was “Monster?” I was a little too young for their 80s brilliance at the time, and now I feel like I missed out. Glad to have the chance to rectify that now. I think they reeled off an impressive streak of four-star albums, but “Murmur” might be my favorite. It may be lacking in big hits - “Radio Free Europe” is the only one that was familiar - but the rest fit right in the pocket of what I prefer from their sound.

I could almost hear Metallica at times on that first track. What kind of crazy influence did this Hindustani classical music have on the future of British and American rock music!? Or, well, nevermind? That was some other version of “Call of the Valley” by Shivkumar’s son Rahul? Amazon Music led me astray. YouTube set me back on the path, but unfortunately I found that I dug the son’s album more. But it looks like it was from 2012, so it was not the influencer I thought it was. Instead it was more of the circle of influence coming back around? The original “Call of the Valley” is not nearly as interesting. I had thought that I dug traditional and modern Indian music, but the little we’ve encountered on the 1001 hasn’t impressed as much as I’d hoped.

Four of these seven tracks were on “Made in Japan,” the live album we listened to earlier on the list. With so much overlap, I have a hard time justifying the inclusion of both on the list. “Smoke on the Water” is a classic, but apparently I didn’t love the version on the live album. Surprisingly, the version here doesn’t live up to the version in my head either. It’s become so iconic that the riff that plays in our heads hits harder (and is a more significant part of the song) than the actual thing. It’s still the best on the album though, and the other songs all equally ooze early 70s hard rock, even if “Space Truckin’” is a bit weird.

Beth Orton’s “Central Reservation” is super smooth and chill. But it’s mostly devoid of the trip hop and fusion elements her bio says she incorporates into her music. It makes an appearance on “Stars All Seem to Weep,” making it the most interesting song on the album. Maybe that brightened my mood, as I enjoyed “Blood Red River” and “Devil Song” shortly after. All in all could have been much more.

I’m happy to report that “Mr. Wendel” and “Tennessee” live up to the nostalgia. Arrested Development add in some lovely palate-cleansing interludes, but there’s not much else that really stands out.

I won’t revisit my Adele rant from “21,” just one minor addendum. Adele placed two albums on the list (this one of them) but neither stuck around. She’s unrepresented in the current edition, I believe. But… so are Whitney Houston and Celine Dion!? That’s shocking. I wouldn’t exactly say Adele’s music fits with Houston’s and Dion’s stylistically, but as an iconic cultural voice of a decade-plus, they’re the only modern artists I think I would compare to Adele. Seems to expose a blind spot on the 1001. Ok, one more addendum - an apology to pretentious-ass. He can think whatever he wants about Adele and any other album. And, in fact, while I may disagree with the assertion that “21” is vanilla, “25” is honestly a bit vanilla. A bit too adult contemporary. Adele’s voice is maturing here and still stands out, but the style and songs don’t quite live up to her earlier work. I revisited “19,” and hadn’t remembered how much more of a lounge/jazz/soul feel that one had, closer to Amy Winehouse than the Adele of six years later.

Nerds are unfairly maligned. Why would it be bad to be hardworking, diligent, focused, and inquisitive? They are much more than a Steve Uerkel stereotype of glasses and pocket protectors. Then there are the candies - intense crunches of pure sugar, and now in clusters and rainbow ropes. More to them than you thought, huh? Seems to be true of the N.E.R.D.s too. Pharrell Williams and his childhood pals sure do defy genre descriptions and fully delve into musical fusion on “Fly or Die.” Despite how nice it was to listen to something that defies being placed in a box, these tracks really grab me. Williams built up quite a rep as a super producer, and has had a big impact on 21st century music, so his inclusion on the list feels justified. But at the same time, none of his albums seem worthy on their own, either from N.E.R.D. or the Neptunes. Maybe most justified would be Justin Timberlake’s Neptunes-written and produced debut, removed from the list like “Fly or Die,” but a much bigger hit.

Improvisational jazz rock isn’t something that captures or commands my attention. So most of “Third” drifted into the background as it meandered along, only to jar me out of my stupor with elements that seemed more akin to space rock than the Hawkwind or Spiritualized albums we listened to the next week.

Following the song “London Calling” is a nearly impossible task. So maybe don’t lead off the album with it? I think front loading the hit singles was common at the time? It’s lucky the album is as long as it is, weirdly, as it gives The Clash a chance to rebound from the steep drop off after the opener. “London Calling” actually came out a lot later than I had thought, and played a much different role in the history of The Clash and punk rock than I imagined. The first half of the album has a lot of very un-punky stuff, as the band was apparently moving a bit away from their punk roots. Lots of horns, with hints of ska and reggae. Bits of blues and rockabilly. But the punk tracks that become more prevalent on the second half are clearly where the band shines. I think my impression suffered a bit from the unexpected, and I feel like multiple listens might find some of my less favorite tracks growing on me.

So the story goes that Gram Parsons joined the Byrds and hijacked the direction of this album a bit. It could have been a somewhat interesting journey through the history of American popular music styles. Instead it was rather annoying country rock that alienated their previous fans as well as the country music establishment, yet somehow became a highly influential country rock album. Parsons was ostensibly a Southerner, but didn’t fall for country music until he spent time in New York and Boston and attended Harvard. Roger McGuinn is from Chicago. Which all makes the thick-accented country sound on “Sweetheart” feel quite less than genuine.

What distinguishes space rock from prog rock? Boops and blips and wooshes that could be spaceship sound effects in an early sci-fi movie? Some odd sci-fi spoken-word poetry? I had never heard of Hawkwind, despite them still consistently making music 50 years later. Maybe they never made much of an impact Stateside? Maybe it was because their music droned on and on without ever getting anywhere. The long tracks keep going and going, but without any real build or destination.

1001 attributes this to Brian Eno, but it was a collaboration between Eno and David Byrne. Because no one person could have come up with this alone. I don’t even know how two guys find all this stuff and figure out how to put it all together. What is the process like for creating songs like these? It appears to make use of a plethora of samples of “found” sounds, with some sparse instrumentation mixed in. The result is bewildering and unique and demands your attention.

A near-flawless band introduces itself in the most emphatic way possible.

With a second “space rock” album this week, I am still trying to figure out what space rock is. Hawkwind was really just prog with some computer sounds and poetry, but Spiritualized had me thinking I’d figured out space rock on the first track (even if it was also pretty much chamber pop or dream pop), only to turn much more traditional on “Come Together.” It then swings back and forth between alt rock and something dreamier, but even on the longer tracks never feels anything like Hawkwind. Those dreamier bits may have been pretty influential in shaping alternative music over the next 20 years, though, and the same could be said of the more cacophonous parts. Spiritualized apparently emerged from Spacemen 3, led by one of the two spacemen along with some of the other non-astronautical members of the band. I didn’t dig the Spacemen 3 album we listened to, but Spiritualized hit much better for me today. “Ladies and gentlemen…” was released the same year as “OK Computer,” and I feel like those two would be pretty terrific to listen to back-to-back.

That’s a very psychedelic album title. But it's a pretty boring album that fails to deliver dreams or the titular Dr. Sardonicus. Where was this doctor, who I would assume is prone to vicious mocking and cynicism? What was he dreaming about? While the music wasn’t very psychedelic, maybe the writing was. Spirit’s Randy California was probably on some good hallucinogens during the selection of his stage name and during the writing of “Twelve Dreams,” because that was some odd, nonsensical stuff. “Nature’s Way” is allegedly their signature song, but it was repetitively obnoxious. That most of the rest is more tolerable than that isn’t saying much.

Hard to find, just as hard to judge.

“Viva Hate” sounds about right for Morrissey. He seems to thrive on hate, and he inspires my… well, let’s just say strong dislike. Don’t need to reduce myself to his level. Because Morrissey is tolerable in the right small doses. For instance, “Every Day is Like Sunday” is when it works. “Suedehead” also has a great intro and vibe. Hate is too strong a term for me. Viva strong dislike.

Notable as the source of the “Genius of Love” sample, which is apparently one of the most sampled songs ever. You’ve heard it on Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” among other places. That’s neat. But neat doesn’t make an album good, or a must listen. That original “Genius of Love” pales in comparison to those that used the best bits and pieces of it later, and the other hit single “Wordy Rappinghood” is right on the line of so bad it’s hilariously enjoyable. “On, On, On, On…” is one of the few good tracks to be found, for everything else I’d recommend off, off, off, off.

John Frusciante and Flea are the stars of Red Hot Chili Peppers. Anthony Keidis might get the attention as the flamboyant frontman, but his rapped singing can be really hit or miss. RHCP are at their best when they are funkiest or contemplative. “The Power of Equality” is neither of those, and “If You Have to Ask” only gets worse. But then “Breaking the Girl” delivers the band at their peak. Later “I Could Have Lied” proves to be an underappreciated gem, but “Suck My Kiss” and others expose Keidis’ obnoxious predilection for edgy lewdness. Meanwhile, “Give It Away” is such a classic, and at the same time also terrible. How can a song be that bad and that good at the same time? Sometimes that feels like RHCP in a nutshell. I recently ran into a discussion of which band was bigger - RHCP or Pearl Jam. As a huge Pearl Jam fan, I had to begrudgingly acknowledge that the clear answer is RHCP. “Blood Sugar Sex Magic” and “Ten” are pretty comparable, both released in 1991, both huge hits and very influential. But the bands took two different directions later in the 90s. Pearl Jam eschewed stardom, while RHCP dove right in. They got poppier and hookier, and don’t get me wrong, had some great results. “Californication” and “Stadium Arcadium” had the band reigning things in, less edgy and lewd, and more of the aforementioned contemplative slower grooves. I think the obnoxiousness on this album was effectively toned down in their later work and merged with their more restrained stifled maturity. Gonna go find out. Never wrote the review for “Californication” over 500 albums ago.

There’s no defence for this pretence. There is no orchestra conducting manoeuvres (though there may be darkness). The album title speaks of morality, but I find no humour in the way OMD deceives the listener with these false expectations. Our neighbours across the pond may think all these unnecessary u’s bring colour and flavour to their rouck icouns, but I’m not buying it. It’s been a pretty spacy last couple of weeks. Luckily, not Kevin. But OMD caps off a run of Hawkwind, Soft Machine, Spiritualized, Spirit, and Brian Eno, and mixes in some very British 80s synth pop not too far from the Morrissey and Tom Tom Club from last week. “Souvenir” and “Georgia” were firmly in the saccharine and cringy end of 80s British synth pop that I try hard to avoid, but the rest of “Architecture and Morality” balanced things out with a sparseness that was atmospheric. Atmouspheric?

What is the relationship between T. Rex and Dinosaur Jr.? T. Rex can’t be Dinosaur Jr.’s father (though that would be chronologically and stylistically interesting) because then it would be T. Rex Jr. Or T. Rex would be called Dinosaur. Are there any more dino-themed band names that could be party of the family? Whether this is from the Jurassic (oh, Jurassic 5!) Era, the Triassic, or 1972, T. Rex’s “The Slider” defies time and categorization. Some of it sounds like proto-80s indie rock, some 70s arena rock, some late 60s Beatles-esque psychedelic rock, and they do it all well. Apparently this was their glam phase, but I think that only describes a small portion of “The Slider.”

Not just “Lady Soul.” That’s some kind of minor member of the court of soul, vying for the attention of the elites. But Aretha vies for nothing. She’s the queen. Beyond the known hits, I dug “Niki Hoeky.”

I don’t exactly love math. But I think I kind of like math rock?

Moby Grape sounds so incredibly 1967. Nothing they do is particularly better than their contemporaries or many imitators that followed, but it’s interesting how thoroughly this band got left behind in the era and rarely mentioned. Maybe they lacked the one hook or earworm that would make them memorable and help them stand the test of time?

That is not what I was expecting from the album cover. The obnoxiousness of “Religion I” was luckily rescued somewhat by “Religion II” - the heavily accented rant is much better set to screeching guitars, but then we could have just done without the former spoken word. Then “Annalisa” delivers the real promise and potential of the band and its aesthetic. “Annalisa” sounds like it could be a Pixies song, and must have been a big influence on Black Francis. It was at this point when I wondered “who are these guys!? Did we listen to them once already?” We did, but I listened and never reviewed and forgot what I thought of and learned about “Metal Box.” So I looked them up again, and was surprised, and yet not surprised, to find it was John (Johnny Rotten) Lydon! Along with Jah Wobble and The Clash’s Keith Levene, Lydon was reinventing the Sex Pistols punk into something new. More off-kilter, more brash. It makes sense that it would come from Lydon. The album continued with more attempts to deconstruct punk before things all came to a screeching halt with “Fodderstompf.” It was like a bad Gorillaz outtake. In fact, if decades later Damon Albarn followed his unexciting Blur work with funky dub hip hop in Gorillaz, here Lydon was following his exciting post-punk with truly annoying funky dub. Opposites of a sort. And makes me nervous to now go back and revisit “Metal Box,” the Public Image album that followed this one. Tracks 4-7 earn ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ for both content and influence, but 2 and 8 are worth at least a one star deduction.

“Queen II” is a very consistently solid Queen album. It also doesn’t have any Queen hits. And nothing that sounds quite worthy of their greatest. Is it just that we know the hits so well? Or are they genuinely special songs that naturally stand out above others? I wonder this often when listening to classic hits on the 1001 in their full context (often for the first time).

Sometimes Neil Young’s voice can irritate me. But that wasn’t the case on “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere.” Young mostly avoids the gravelly whininess, allowing his songwriting and Crazy Horse’s dynamic backing to shine.

More than three decades as a smiling actor has warped my sense of LL Cool J. My earliest awareness of him may have even been as Captain Patrick Zevo in the Robin Williams movie “Toys.” Beyond the acting, my general recollection of his music career painted him as safe and bland late 80s hip hop. But in fact, “Mama Said Knock You Out” shows that he served as an important bridge between 80s hip hop and harder-edged 90s rap. The cheesiness of 80s rap lyrics pop up on occasion (it didn’t stand out to me until “Cheesy Rat Blues”), but overall LL Cool J finds a nice balance - sometimes hard and aggressive, sometimes chill and having fun. The song “Mama Said Knock You Out” is remembered more whimsically than it actually is - there are veiled threats to shoot people there, not just punching someone because mama said so. But then he follows that up with a song about cereal, so… (well, I guess it’s just as much about sex as it is about cereal). He may wind up being mostly remembered as the guy who fought mutant sharks in “Deep Blue Sea” or “NCIS’” Special Agent Sam Hanna, but this album proves he was a rapper of actual talent working with some of hip hop’s best.

For as much as I love drum-and-bass and jungle and trance, house music often drives me crazy. Like Basement Jaxx. Or at least the first half of Basement Jaxx. Once it gets through the “Jaxxalude” and into “Red Alert,” which was a big crossover hit, things improved. “Always Be There” was also pretty good, as was “Don’t Give Up,” and the “Merengue” sample makes “Bingo Bango” stand out. Unfortunately, the first four tracks were too annoying for the back half to fully salvage the album. But that back half does show that house can be great when it finds the right vibe.

I think I only remember one birthday party from my childhood. I would assume I had others, but they must not have been very memorable. Not that this one was particularly memorable either. It was in my backyard, and we played pin the tail on the donkey on the porch and I think there was a pinata? Where did you get a pinata before Party City was a thing? And that’s about all I remember. We spend a lot of time and energy planning birthday parties for our kids every year, but will they forget it all just like I did? Unfortunately, my long-term memory just isn’t very good. And fortunately, as hopefully I can forget The Birthday Party’s “Junkyard” just as easily. Also, Australia deserves better than this. There is way better Australian music left off the list that would be better than The Birthday Party. It may have been #17 on someone’s list of best Australian albums, but it only makes #73 on Rolling Stone’s list. Meanwhile, many others from that list get no respect on the 1001 (though both lists feature an excess of Nick Cave). INXS, Midnight Oil, Kylie Minogue, Savage Garden, and Silverchair get no love. Silverchair is an interesting one. They’re a band I liked in the heyday of grunge but haven’t touched since the 90s. I was afraid they wouldn’t hold up, and that’s mostly true. Their first couple albums are a bit cringy, especially lyrically. But they are crunchy and thrashing and a great little example of late stage grunge in their own way. And apparently have stood the test of time in Australian music history. That Rolling Stone list puts 4 Silverchair albums in the top 80. More than any other group or musician, other than Nick Cave. What!? The Birthday Party was Nick Cave!? Ugh now it’s obnoxious grating sound, as well as its inclusion on the list, makes much more groan-inducing sense. Hopefully I’ll forget this album just like I forgot all my childhood birthday parties.

28 songs in 41 minutes! 28 songs usually means a double album, and I often feel like double albums should have been an LP, but when they’re all less than 2 minutes long the song experiments are much more tolerable. I first heard GBV around 2003, from a guy I worked at a comic book shop with who loved them and The Tragically Hip. I listened to both for a little bit, but then the indie music boom of the 00s quickly put them on the back burner. “Alien Lanes” was not what I had briefly listened to though. “Bee Thousand” was a bit familiar, but it seems it was “Mag Earwhig!” that I knew the best. Man, were they prolific! 20+ song albums 1-2 times per year! In that way they were the King Gizzard and the Wizard Lizard of their day - unrivaled productivity. “Bee Thousand” is more in the vein of “Alien Lanes,” with most songs under 2 minutes. “Mag Earwhig!” reins it in better. Some songs actually pass the 2 minute mark(!), and the production is cleaner. So what I’ve now learned is that early GBV was just too lo-fi for me. Robert Pollard was proud of how quick and cheaply “Alien Lanes” was recorded, but with new collaborators and a more professional studio set up, I like the sound of “Mag Earwhig!” a lot more. So while “Alien Lanes” only gets a ⭐️⭐️⭐️ from me, “Mag Earwhig!” would be a ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.

Scott Walker was a really boring governor of Wisconsin. Except for his political stances and union busting while in office. Those weren’t boring, but they sucked. Scott Walker was also a singer, but he was actually Noel Scott Engel. But he was also boring. “Scott 4” only gets interesting with “Hero of the War” and “The Old Man’s Back Again.”

What did Echo & The Bunnymen do to warrant me dissing them in my review of The Cure? Nothing, in fact. Apparently I’ve only heard a few E&TB songs, and one of those I think I thought was The Cure. (“The Killing Moon,” which when covered by Chvrches a couple years ago I thought it was a Cure cover.) And yet, I called them out as not being as good as The Cure. I shouldn’t have judged them without really listening. So now that I’ve listened? Well, apparently there are 3 E&TB on the list, and this is our first at #818, so we’ll be getting more soon. But the songs listed as their most listened are not as good as The Cure. But the songs from their debut, “Crocodile,” are not their top songs. And they’re much better. “Crocodile” came out in 1980, before the 80s became too 80s. “Crocodile” is driven by Will Sargeant’s jangly guitar and Les Pattinson’s bass grooves, and isn’t ruined by Ian McCulloch’s vocals. I enjoyed this one, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to the next two in short order though based on my sampling of their more popular work.

One of the greatest “what could have been” albums of all time. One of the best albums of all time. Maybe the greatest live album of all time. Nirvana recorded “Unplugged in New York” before Kurt Cobain died, but the album wasn’t released until seven months after his death. As great as “Nevermind” and “In Utero” were, it was “Unplugged” that first gave an indication of what the band could have become if they had the chance. The choice of cover songs revealed diverse influences and their unwavering commitment to their vision for the show regardless of what MTV wanted showed that they were firmly in charge of the direction of their career, not record labels or suits. It was a much more folk-influenced musical direction. Would their next album have followed suit, or was this a one-off? Unfortunately, we’ll never know.

I don’t know how Lemmy Kilmister did it. What was his routine for taking care of his vocal cords? Tea with honey? Steam inhalation? Lozenges? I could try to sing like Lemmy for a single song. But a whole album? A whole concert? Could he even talk the next day? And come to think of it, what does his speaking voice sound like? Lemmy has a super distinct guttural growl. It makes “Ace of Spades” a rowdy, raucous treat. But just like too much of that singing must kill his voice, too much listening to it kills my interest. There are no levels - it’s all 100 miles per hour vocals and guitar. And they thrash. It’s great. But in small doses. Good that they started with “Ace of Spades,” because as my interest waned, nothing else came close to that.

Here we have Pet Shop Boys, two days before CHVRCHΞS. Both are synth pop, but they’re more than two decades apart, and even further apart stylistically. Pet Shop Boys is maybe closer to dream pop, but it’s dream pop that is still way too 80s with vocals so annoying that they crush any decent atmosphere created by the synths. They claim they were never “Being Boring,” but that’s exactly how I would describe much of “Behavior.” Don’t bother going down to the pet shop, regardless of the boys’ behaviour. Instead, Be Your Own Pet. Their self-titled garage punk album in 2006 is a hidden gem. Check out “Adventure.”

Typical of late 60s folk rock for me, there is some cool instrumentation but I don’t care for the singing. Bert Jansch solo was a little bit better in that respect.

I have a hard time explaining why CHVRCHΞS is one of my favorite bands. Synth pop isn’t typically my thing. High twee vocals aren’t typically my thing. And yet, I love their sound. Love their style. Love Lauren Mayberry’s vocals. Somehow it just all fits together perfectly. I think while their music is very synth-driven, labeling them synth pop just doesn’t quite capture their sound. Iain Cook and Martin Doherty crafted a sound for CHVRCHΞS that is like everything else and yet like nothing else. And this makes sense, as the artists the group cites as their heroes and influences cover a broad and fascinating range. Over the years, CHVRCHΞS has solidified themselves as one of the bands that I will immediately seek out new music from, go to see them live any time they come through town, and extol their brilliance to anyone who will listen. They’ve been pretty successful since “Bones of What You Believe,” but they are one of those bands that I remain mystified that they aren’t even bigger than they are. I shouldn’t be surprised though. Only rap and pop acts are ubiquitous and culturally pervasive. And Mayberry is a writer and singer not afraid to speak truth to music industry power. Mayberry and CHVRCHΞS are never going to be a band that does whatever the label execs and marketing people tell them to do to make money. They have fought sexism and misogyny in the way the band is represented in the media, pushed by record executives, and in their response to the anonymous online harassment that pervades internet culture. They portray themselves as a band despite encouragement to put Mayberry not just in front but alone to appeal more to the male gaze. On their debut, they wanted to write and produce their own stuff, not deceptively front for a faceless producer like so many pop acts. And while they have loosened up a bit on some of those points through their career, Mayberry’s lyrics still question the cost of stardom and bite back at those who have suggested that she soften her accent or put more emphasis on her looks.

A Joni Mitchell 3-in-1 review to catch up… Joni Mitchell sadly doesn’t really do it for me. When her songs are upbeat and fast-paced, they are tolerable, but when they are slow they put me to sleep. The album “Blue” keeps the pace, but has Mitchell too often suddenly and sharply pushing her voice too high. She’s got a great voice actually, but that is not playing to its strengths. “All I Want” and “River” are deserved timeless hits, though. The album “Court and Spark” has less jarring highs, but too slow of a pace.” “Hejira” was the most forgettable of the three. We still have one more Joni to go. We’ll see if “The Hissing of Summer Lawns” grabs me any more.

Is there an echo in the room? I noted that we had made it into the 800s without getting an E&TB album, and so of course here is another just a week later. The low expectations that have been created for early 80s British new wave over those 800+ albums benefitted “Crocodile,” but I worried that E&TB’s other albums wouldn’t be as tolerable. But, in fact, “Ocean Rain” wasn’t too bad. “The Killing Moon” shows why it’s their best song, though Amazon Music claims “Lips Like Sugar” from 1987’s self-titled album is more popular. And “Lips Like Sugar” is annoying. That’s the E&TB direction I’m dreading.

Fully agree with hellyeah - young Tom Petty may not have known quite what kind of music he wanted to make. Blues rock? Americana? Southern rock? Bob Dylan lite? Van Morrison crooner? There’s absolutely signs of talent here. “Breakdown” is simply an amazing song, and “American Girl” is a classic for a reason. But there’s a lot of forgettable imitation here. Petty wouldn’t really find his groove until the Heartbreakers’ second or third album, but then they go on a run of hits like few other rock groups in the late-70s, with lasting impactful success all the way into the 90s. “Damn the Torpedoes,” “Full Moon Fever,” and “Wildflowers” are the albums that actually belong on the list, not this self-titled debut. Those first two, along with his other 80s offerings, gave Petty a string of hits that would carry heartland rock for two decades, and after his first greatest hits album in 1993 he followed it up with the 3x platinum “Wildflowers,” reeling off a string of radio hits just as grunge was taking over rock radio. The kind of lasting power Petty had shouldn’t be understated, but the 1001 manages to try by only including his debut on the list.

The theme for the week is picking the wrong album by a band for the list. And in both cases they are self-titled debuts! Some bands hit it out of the park on their first album and can never reach those inspired heights again. No such worries for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, or for Queens of the Stone Age. Their self-titled debut never grabbed my attention, droning on in the background. On the other hand, 2002’s “Songs for the Deaf” is a ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ album. I think having more collaborators on “Rated R” and “Songs for the Deaf” was good for QOTSA leader Josh Homme. Bringing in Mark Lanegan and Dave Grohl did wonders for QOTSA’s sound. Homme describes “SFTD” as bizarre and crazy, but it’s also catchy without sacrificing raucous energy. Since this is the only album on the list by any Josh Homme, Tim Armstrong, or Brody Dalle list, we’ve also gotta call out their weird love triangle (as well as the fact that there are some great Rancid and Distillers songs). Armstrong started dating Dalle when he was 30 and she was turning 17. They married a year later, and then several years later Homme wrecked their already creepy home. Their marriage fell apart too, with accusations on both sides of physical and mental abuse. Not a great trio of people, but some exciting musicians. And as an exciting musician of long and winding career, the list of people Homme has worked with creates quite the web of 90s and 00s talents. The aforementioned Grohl and Lanegan, but also many others, and even 70s icons John Paul Jones (with Grohl in Them Crooked Vultures) and Iggy Pop. Mapping out the connections would be wild. For instance, through Paz Lenchantin, who played violin on “SFTD,” you can link Homme six degrees of separation style to the Pixies and Perfect Circle, and one more step away to post punk and math rock innovators Tortoise and Slint that we listened to recently. Put Homme in the center and I bet the web can connect just about every major rock act of the last 30 years in just a couple leaps.

“Arc of a Diver'' sounds like an album made by someone older than 32. But Steve Winwood had been in bands since he was 14 (first in the Spencer Davis Group with his brother, Muff Winwood. Yes, Muff was a nickname. But why? Previously puzzled by the big muffs of John Martyn and Mudhoney, we learned about Harmonix fuzzboxes. But Muff Winwood’s muff was smaller. It was a 1950s children’s TV show puppet horse character named Muffin the Mule. What muff did to earn being nicknamed after a puppet horse we have no idea.)... where were we? After the Spencer Davis Group, Steve Winwood was in Traffic (the band, not the frustrating gridlock of cars on busy roads) and a brief supergroup with Cream’s Eric Clapton and Ginger Baker before his solo career got going in the 1980s. So he was quite the experienced veteran releasing “Arc of a Diver” in 1980. And “While You See a Chance” is a great opener for that decade. Winwood clearly shows he can hang at the yacht club with his soft layering of synthesizers, organs, and guitars. Impressively, he played every instrument on the album. But while that was a great intro to the 80s, it was Winwood’s 1986 album that couldn’t have embodied the decade better. What more 80s song is there than “Higher Love?” And on an album that also included “Back in the High Life Again” and “The Finer Things.” The soft, easy listening of yacht rock makes up much of the background soundtrack of my childhood. As the hippies turned to yuppies, Winwood and his contemporaries led the way.

Tortoises are amazing creatures. We may or may not all be on the back of a tortoise, and they are the longest living land animals. I don’t think Tortoise the band is going to be particularly long living though outside of the 1001. There are several parts of “Millions Now Living Will Never Die” that would be decent foundations for some background chill lo-fi type stuff, but as a whole the album is a boring improvisational jazz rehearsal with a rock spin.

Which Damon Albarn will we find on TGTB&TQ? The Blur one? Or the Gorillaz one? Encouraged by the inclusion of the Clash’s Paul Simonon, a bit worried by the inclusion of the Verve’s Simon Tong, and puzzled by Tony Allen (Fela Kuti’s Africa ‘70). Most of all though, intrigued by producer Danger Mouse, who’s work in Gnarls Barkley, Danger Doom, and Broken Bells, and stroke of genius with “The Grey Album” all made for a pretty impressive 00’s for him. But somehow I had never heard of TGTB&TQ. He also produced the second Gorillaz album, so I had hopes that this would be more on the Gorillaz end of the Albarn spectrum. And it turned out to be somewhere squarely in between Blur and Gorillaz. Not quite as good as the latter, but much preferred to the former. There are some Gorillaz-y elements on TGTB&TQ, but they don’t develop the way they would on a Gorillaz album. If I had heard this before Gorillaz, I wonder if I would have felt differently about it? Back to Danger Mouse, though. I think he deserves more credit than just a couple of production credits on the list. The wide range of artists he has worked with, and his impact on guiding and sometimes reshaping their sound, is matched by few others. And his “St. Elsewhere” and “Broken Bells” albums with Cee-Lo Green and James Mercer, respectively, are deserving of acclaim all their own.

“Nilsson Schmilsson” indeed. Way to advertise up front that you don’t matter. That no one will remember you. And it’s funny, because everyone remembers “Without You” and “Coconut.” Though for completely different reasons. Never had any clue who sang them (because Nilsson Schmilsson), and it was wild to encounter them back-to-back on this album. What a weird tonal shift. In fact, I can’t imagine “Coconut” fitting anywhere on any album other than at the end or as some hidden bonus track you had to leave the album playing for through five minutes of dead silence. Those two tracks are iconic, but although “Coconut” is quite memeable, I would be perfectly happy to never hear it again. And then right into a “Let the Good Times Roll” cover! What a weird album. The first couple of tracks suggested Nilsson’s potential as a singer-songwriter, though you would never guess that this guy ever had the cache to be called the “American Beatle” or join Alice Cooper’s Hollywood Vampires drinking club alongside Keith Moon, Ringo Starr, and John Belushi. But at least now I know about the Hollywood Vampires, both the drinking club and the supergroup Cooper formed in 2015 with Johnny Depp and Joe Perry. I want to know more about the Hollywood Vampires now (the drinking club, not the supergroup). What were their preferred spirits? What kind of wild stories have been told about their times together? What I don’t want to know any more about is Harry Nilsson. Nilsson Schmilsson.

I’m hearing some undertones of misogyny and incelism from The Undertones. But I’ll just let them tell it themselves: “Boys will be boys,” the name of a song and a line on two other songs “The girls are laughing, they're very cruel” (Norman’s always running after girls, but they just laugh at him) “I've never kissed a girl before/Too shy to go outside the door/Can't listen to the way girls talk” “Girls that don't talk/Still can't see/When they come home from work/I wish they'd talk to me!” But who are we to question lobster-bibbed pop-punkers from Northern Ireland who’d rather whine about girls than confront the Troubles? Punk is so political and confrontational, but the Undertones wanted none of that. They wanted to escape from that. They wanted to just kiss girls. But they were too shy to leave the house?? How did these guys get credited with pop punk alongside the Ramones and the Buzzcocks? There are some great punk hooks and riffs early on “Hypnotised,” but by the back half it descended into boring pop songs.

Ah, yes, only a true poet could extol the virtues of finger-lickin’ Kentucky Fried Chicken, alongside the crumbling cookie and mom’s apple pie. Great R&B can put you in the mood, but “Secrets” only put me in the mood for food. The rest of the album was more geared towards the typical R&B tropes of love and romance, just enough to get your mind racing, to get your imagination running away with you. Wait, that’s a different “Just Your Imagination.” Womack’s was playing tricks on him again. Weirdly derivative song. Overall, it doesn’t sound like there’s much originality on “The Poet.” What makes this, his 13th album, the notable and special one? It did make it to the top of the Top Black Albums chart and placed a song number three on the Hot Black Singles Chart. Hold on, what are those charts called? Throughout the 80s, those were the names of Billboard’s R&B charts. Now off to grab a bucket of KFC. Because it’s finger lickin’ good.

Apparently Kurt Cobain and Doug Martsch were influenced by the Butthole Surfers. I don’t share the sentiment, but if it helped us get Nirvana and Built to Spill, I guess I can thank the Butthole Surfers. But I can’t thank them for “Locust Abortion Technician.” Nothing was tolerable until “Human Cannonball,” and the rest is pretty terrible.

There’s a lot I like about Little Simz’ sound. It’s gritty and grimy (without being grime or Grimes) and her accent and voice fit perfectly. I’ve got a thing though about rappers that repeatedly rhyme the n-word with itself over and over. Also, “Wounds” sounds so much like “Forgot About Dre,” but apparently it isn’t a sample or the same. So a barely adjacent knock-off? The rest is great though.

Is this what music will sound like when the robots take over? The humans that survive will do so by becoming man-machines - cyborgs that try to adapt human culture to please our robot overlords. Bumping this by one star because the whole thing didn’t sound like the opener, “Robots.” If there had been any more of that, I would just give up and succumb to the robopocalypse.

The thunderstorm sounds and atmosphere of the closing track reminded me of sitting out on the porch on a quiet summer night listening to the rain. Then I looked down at the track name, and realized that those pleasant droplets were BLOOD! Imagine that ‘blood’ in some very metal font and actually dripping red.

"All I Wanna Do" and "Strong Enough" made this album absolutely huge. And it's clear why - they are some of the most radio-friendly broadly appealing songs I can think of. But they are vanilla pop rock, and even the catchiest pop rock radio hits of all time only go so far.

I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit to being occasionally wrong here. I’ve hated on experimental noise rock from time to time over 1000+ albums, and while there’s a lot to dislike on Liars’ “They Were Wrong,” it’s not all bad. Faint praise, but I actually dug some of the noise on this album.

I feel like “I Should Coco” and “In It For The Money” are out of order. “IIFTM” came out in 1997, but it sounds like a mid-90s Britpop album, looking backwards but at least being pretty tolerable for the genre. “I Should Coco” came out in 1995, but sounds forward-looking, almost a preview of the garage rock revival of the early 00s.

I always want to like De La Soul more than I actually do when I listen. And I can never quite put my finger on the disconnect. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good alternative hip hop. It’s chill and enlightened and everything, but I always walk away thinking that Tribe, Jurassic 5, and Dilated Peoples all click much better for me. But that “High and Rising” book I mentioned in the Tribe interview digs into De La’s incredibly important place in the history of hip hop, and their discomfort with aspects of that place. Label disputes and artistic reinvention left them on the outside looking in. Meanwhile, the violence and misogyny they were providing an alternative for went mainstream.

“Exile in Guyville” is incredible, though I struggle to explain why. Some reviewers take issue with Liz Phair’s voice, but I love it. It’s not conventional or pretty, and she leans into the imperfections from the start on “6 '1.” The overall sound and vibe feels stripped down, raw and real, lo-fi but recorded with clarity rather than sounding like it was recorded in a shoebox or underwater. And that’s all before you get to the bluntly honest songwriting or the broader ballsy concept of responding to the Rolling Stones’ “Exile on Main Street.” That Stones album was boring, it turned out. Liz Phair’s “Exile in Guyville” is anything but - I wish I had crawled out of the Seattle grunge-hole long enough to embrace it and recognize Phair’s refreshing voice in the mid-90s, but I’ll make up for lost time now and am happy to listen to it on repeat.

His baby’s got sauce. His band has some kind of secret special sauce. Does G. Love have sauce of his own? He may, but it is the sauce that messes up the whole dish. There are some interesting things the band is trying with their fusion of styles and sauces, but G. Love’s vocals and songwriting are the weak link.

A singular iconic performer. One of the most influential and impactful artists of early rock and roll and R&B. But studio albums don’t capture James Brown’s essence the way live performances do. It appears here and there in the studio. But on “Live at the Apollo,” it’s pure, unadulterated Brown. (Though on stage may be the only place where pure, unadulterated James Brown is a good thing.)

Free Britney was quite the social media movement (or meme?) back in 2020, but Britney may have needed freeing long before. When she burst onto the pop scene with “...Baby One More Time,” she was a cog in the machine. A pop culture machine that her family accelerated her through from a young age, from Star Search to the Mickey Mouse Club to solo stardom. 2020, as we have now seen in retrospect, was far too late to free Britney. Was it worth it? Not for a piece of bubblegum who’s sweetness is ruined by… well, fill in the unseemly metaphor yourself.

There's enough psychedelic rock on the list already, thanks. No need for this annoying and uninspired offering. Keep your prunes acoustic. Or don't let your plums dry out.

"Talking Heads 77's" appearance on the random generator caused a bit of deja vu. “How many Talking Heads albums have we listened to?” “Did I listen to all of them?” “Did I actually write reviews for the ones I listened to?” In fact, it would seem I had the same discussion with myself when we got our second Talking Heads album. I went and listened to both and actually wrote the reviews at that time. This time, I was listening to our fourth (and final) Talking Heads album and thinking about how I like the Talking Heads more than I thought I did. And do you know what I wrote a year ago when I reviewed number one and two? Yep. So I guess I dig Talking Heads. Sometimes David Byrne’s voice is annoying. But sometimes it works great with the jangly and buoyant guitars. But “Once in a Lifetime” is a bit overrated. That chorus is tremendous, but the other parts are not my favorite.

Live albums are cheating. They're just greatest hits most of the time. Except there actually aren't enough Dylan hits on this live album. It was, however, my first exposure to Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man," because we haven't listened to "Bringing it All Back Home" yet. Or "Highway 61 Revisited." Because we're on #995 but still have two more Dylan albums! Anyway, Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man" is terrible. Glad The Byrds' version is the one that got famous. Some of his most annoying enunciations. Maybe 1966 was peak overindulgent Dylan.

Like with "Sea Change," I understand why mid-career Beck is so acclaimed. I get why it's so acclaimed. I just can't seem to get into it though. I think it's a big mood thing, though. More so with "Sea Change," but even with "Guero" I think it would help to listen to it when I just happened to be in the right frame of mind. That's another interesting thing I've found with the 1001 experiment - a good rainy day wallowing album on a sunny day is gonna hit different, a fun boppy rocker when you're sad might not do it for you. It seems I never reviewed "Odelay," but rather than delay this review further I'm gonna boldly say it's the Beck album most deserving of being on the list. (Even though it was overplayed and some of it is annoying.)

Tito Puente is probably the artist most associated with and responsible for the sound of Latin jazz and dance music. Everyone knows "Oye Cómo Va." I don't know any of the songs on "Dance Mania," but it sounds nearly as iconic and classic.

“Youth and Young Manhood” is a great debut, but Kings of Leon needed a bit more time to refine their sound and find their identity. Caleb Followill’s vocals have always been one of my favorite parts of KoL, but here there is a little too much Bob Dylan in the vocals. Some bands catch lightning in a bottle with their debut and are never able to reach those heights again. KoL, debuting as teenagers when some members hadn’t even learned their instruments yet, still had time to grow and develop.

So many false brothers in music. Whether they be chemical or jungle, byrd or flying burrito. Speaking of the Byrds, the common element here is not just fake siblings, but Gram Parsons. I didn’t care for his Byrds contributions, didn’t care for his solo album, and don’t really care for The Flying Burrito Brothers either.

“Tarkus” was my least favorite progressive rock I’ve ever heard, and “Pictures at an Exhibition” doesn’t do anything to change my view of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer. I’ll give them credit for going for the concept - a rock adaptation of an 1870s piano suite? Not something you hear everyday. I wanted to be mad because I don’t think live albums belong on the list (granting exceptions for the way they allow for meaningful compilations of work by the early rock n’ rollers, or for Johnny Cash’s seminal prison performances), but “Pictures” is a unique one-time-only performance of unique material, so I let it slide. Instead, I’m mad at every single thing Keith Emerson does with a Hammond organ, a pipe organ, and a Moog synthesizer. These instruments don’t have to make awful music, but in Emerson hands, in these arrangements, they torture poor Modest Mussorgsky’s composition. That’s a great name, though, and now I want to hear Modest Mouse’s version of Modest Mussorgsky.

Another mid-80s British album with that ubiquitous Morrissey-ish vocal style. “Living in Another World” was the most I got into Talk Talk, until the harmonica solo kicked in and the song meandered on for three more minutes. By the time I got to “Give It Up,” it clicked. It’s not just the whiny Morrissey-esque thing. It’s Morrissey crossed with Michael Bolton! It was a slow start, and I really wasn’t sure what to expect after the Jesus-y “Happiness is Easy,” but “The Colour of Spring” grew on me. Unfortunately, “Chameleon Day” killed the momentum. “Time It’s Time” tried to get it back. Enough for a 3?

I will forever associate “Take On Me” with the Washington Nationals and Michael Morse. Morse used the song for his walk-up music before each at bat, and it became such a beloved song-along at Nationals Park that they continued using it as the 7th inning stretch song after Morse left the team. So starting with “Take On Me” definitely colored my opinion of “Hunting High and Hunting Low.” Nothing else reaches those heights, but a-ha is best when they go for that same level of zip and energy. Plus one star in a genre I don’t typically care for on account of Michael Morse.

“Ridin' on a groovy wave of love Going for a cosmic ride Set the freaky purple vibes of love The marshmallow cat is inside” In the final season of “The Good Place,” Michael spent many Jeremy Bearimys trying to write a song. Those lyrics he came up with really aren’t too far from Country Joe & The Fish’s “Electric Music for the Mind and Body.” (The above lyrics are Michael’s, not Joe’s.)

At one point my 8th grader asked, totally seriously, “is this music?” Sonic Youth’s talent and potential is often derailed by those sonic tangents of noise that, yes, are music. It’s just not music that is not consistent enough to make whole albums worth it. Sonic Youth was only able to put it together for a full album on “Daydream Nation.”

“Novocaine for the Soul” is familiar, and while it’s not great, I like the slight trip hop feel injected into a rock song. That continues on “Susan’s House,” but it fades away after that in favor of some pretty tame and forgettable mid-90s alt rock.

Kool Keith apparently has at least 58 alter egos. I hope some of them are less obnoxious than Dr. Octagon. He’s described as a “homicidal, extraterrestrial, time-traveling gynecologist and surgeon.” The fixation on immature sexual humor and doo-doo follows. Collaborating with Dan “The Automator” Nakamura and DJ Qbert should have produced a much more enjoyable album. Nakamura went on to better things after this helped launch his career, and gets deserved recognition for his role in Gorillaz. But DJ Qbert is the highlight of “Dr. Octagonecolygist,” and his revolutionary work here and with Rock Steady Crew and Invisibl Skratch Piklz are worthy of more acclaim. Beyond the innovative scratching and spinning of the turntablist and some hints of a unique and developing producer, there’s not much else I want to remember about Dr. Octagon.

The hits are the tolerable part of Stevie Wonder albums. They’re also often the faster, more energetic songs. But those are lacking on “Fulfillingness’ First Finale.” As a result, I was not fulfilled. That doesn’t mean I want a second finale.

Well that’s a super familiar album cover. But not a super familiar album. Why do I know this picture? Is it just from looking through the 1001? It's a great photo. Conveys a lot very simply. And it’s the best part of the album. The rest is easily forgettable Michael Jackson and Prince knock-offs. That, combined with the cover and the fact that the album is attributed to Sananda Maitreya got me quite curious. Which wound up leading me to this article from The Guardian from 2017 - https://www.theguardian.com/music/2017/oct/05/why-terence-trent-darby-became-sananda-maitreya-it-was-that-or-death. I can’t do justice to Terence Trent D’Arby (or Sananda Maitreya). You’ll just have to read it for yourself.

We’ve listened to some albums lately with painful mashing of genres, but Talvin Singh stands out for the way he weaves diverse influences and world music into a genre-bending electronica album. I checked out LTJ Bukem right before this, and while they both have a great atmospheric vibe Singh does more to break out from the chill monotony that can create. (Apparently Singh’s London club often featured Bukem, and in many ways “OK” feels like a logical progression from Bukem.)

I enjoyed “So” the most of the three Peter Gabriel albums on the list, but that’s probably reliant on the nostalgia brought on by the big hits.

I had forgotten how good “Hail to the Thief” was. In my memory I had it ranked multiple rungs below “Kid A” and “Amnesiac,” but then I listened again and realized that I love it from start to finish. It has an incredible variety, bouncing around from subtle piano and guitar to discordant electronica. By the time “Hail to the Thief” came out, Radiohead had departed far from their original guitar-focused sound. However, they show here that they can do it all, sometimes all at once, and somehow they make it work.

War, what is it good for? Apparently just one great song, which isn’t on this album. “Cisco Kid” and “Where Was You At” are fine, but the extremely extended instrumental of “City, Country, City” was a slog to get through. There is an interesting blend of soul, funk, and prog rock here that is pretty unique, but it only really clicks on the second half of “Four Cornered Room.” War’s biggest and most lasting hit is, of course, “Low Rider,” and it’s a bit of a surprise to find that it was on the same album as “Why Can’t We Be Friends.” Perhaps that is a better album to represent the band?

Thelonius, thanks for inviting us to your informal jam session. When does the actual album come out?

The educational parts of Ravi Shankar’s “The Sounds of India” are really interesting, and the actual sounds of India are wonderfully rich as expected. As a music album though, it's a cool representation of Indian music but the lengthy sitar ragas are just a bit too much for me.

I actually dig their psychobilly sound, but it’s just all too same-y. Most tracks sound like they could all be part of one song.

Oh, if it wasn’t for those two hit singles. “Smack My Bitch Up” and “Firestarter” are the cringiest and most annoying songs on “The Fat of the Land.” But otherwise I think the Prodigy holds up pretty well for late 90s techno.

A month ago, on our third and final Pet Shop Boys album, I wrote that “We’re in the home stretch now, under 100 albums to go. And one thing I will be very thankful for at the conclusion is to not listen to any more 80s British synth pop.” Alas, I never wrote my review for “Very,” so there was yet more bad 80s British synth pop to struggle through. Neil Tennant’s vocals are make a strong case for my least favorite on this entire list. Another lousy 1993 album (and PSB’s 3rd overall) just gives me another chance to complain that Pearl Jam’s “Vs.” was left off the list. No, PSB, one and one do not make five. Gonna take more than Tennant and Chris Lowe to get to five. As PJ know, it's "one, two, three, four, five against one." "Very" is a 1, "Vs." is a 5.

“The Predator” does show a bit of an evolution of Ice Cube, and the incessant shouting and unbridled anger that marked his debut is much reduced here. That evolution would continue, of course, to the point where today Cube is an accomplished actor and businessman. The course of the careers of Cube, Ice T, and Snoop Dogg are such a bizarre thing that could only happen in modern America.

They sure were going through “Changes.” Some of this boilerplate Sabbath, but then they mellow out and show you their softer side, and then throw some random sound effects at you. The heavy stuff not only works, but blazed trails and inspired many. However, there were too many other detours and distractions on “Vol. 4.”

You can just feel this album devolve along with Syd Barrett. His fall is a tragic and sad story, triggered by drug abuse like too many other young artists, but different from those as the abuse doesn’t end in an early death but rather a long, drawn-out period of depression and reclusivity. I like post-Barrett Pink Floyd much better - I don’t care for his vocals or the excessive psychedelic abstractions - but “Piper” and other early Floyd aren’t for me. Halfway through “Interstellar Overdrive” I just couldn’t take it anymore.

The opening title track makes it clear why it was the lead single. But then nothing really grabbed me until “Playing Your Song.” Which is the second to last song. “Live Through This” is so much better.

So much potential, in a style I generally enjoy, but it’s derailed by Mike Ladd’s juvenile lyrics. The weird lo-fi tangents were actually a welcome reprieve from lyrics that squandered the music’s potential.

So incredibly French.

Primal therapy sounds pretty weird, but if it gets results like this… It sounds like John Lennon was really going through it. Unearthing childhood trauma, in the wake of the collapse of the Beatles, Lennon bares all. Well, actually, he bared a bit more on his first solo album cover, and in that Rolling Stone photo. But emotionally, he let it out during the recording of “John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band.” The result is a terrific album. The only song that gave me pause was “Working Class Hero,” which sounded like a derivative rip-off of “Masters of War.” Bothered me while listening, but apparently they are both based off of Jean Ritchie’s arrangement of the traditional folk song “Nottamun Town,” which sent me on an interesting deep dive of Ritchie’s career chronicling folk music.

Lacks screaming.

LTJ Bukem’s “Logical Progression” created an atmospheric chill and established drum and bass sound alongside Goldie’s “Timeless.” “Logical Progression” is a little too even, though, only occasionally shaking you out of the reverie it envelopes the listener in. Because of that, it fades into the background too easily. Maybe that’s ok if you’re blissed out in an altered mental state. (This is the sound I associate more with MDMA, not the Madchester indie pop janglings of The Stone Roses and Happy Mondays.) But what hurts this album other than its backgroundiness is that it’s a compilation. They’re not all Bukem’s songs. And for a DJ set at the club that’s fine. But for a greatest albums list? It’s super influential, but where is the line between a mixtape I make for a friend and a mixtape a DJ records?

"The Humpty Dance" is great as a novelty song. The gimmick that Shock G carries through the whole of "Sex Packets," however, gets old fast. But thank you, Digital Underground, for launching the career of Tupac.

Not nearly as enjoyable as "Bug." Too much unfocused fuzz.