Perfect for when you want to feel what it was like to try on jeans at the Gap or Banana Republic in the late '90's.

1994 was an amazing year. At a Halloween party that year, I hooked up with a beautiful Asian woman dressed as a cat (she could have been any nationality now that I think about it, and was dressed as an Asian cat - anything was possible in '94). I was dressed up as The Joker. Jack Nicholson's Joker in Tim Burton's Batman to be precise. She and I left the party to go to her place and fool around. Before things got too deep, she paused and said, "Now go into the bathroom and take off your makeup. I want to see what the real Joker looks like." We'd been making out a while, and she had some of my Joker makeup on her face so it was hard for me to take her seriously. I told her this was my true appearance. Apparently, I was quite protective of my secret identity back in those days. We all were. I went down on her as the Joker instead. That's who I am. I'm a giver. That's as far as we got. Joker Brand Products didn't include Joker Brand Condoms in '94. If they existed, they'd surely be purple and shaped like a smiley face. I still think about that little minx a lot. We probably could have built a wonderful life together. 1994 was also the year Jackie Kennedy, Kurt Cobain, and Nicole Brown Simpson died. It was the year when the baseball strike cancelled the World Series, and this album was released. So it wasn't all hooking up with Saucy Asian Felines, even though it felt like it was. I also met my future wife a week after that Halloween party. We were married for 9 years until she divorced my ass, but have two wonderful children together who continue to amaze, inspire and fill me with joy everyday. What I'm saying is a lot of good things came out of 1994, but this album certainly wasn't one of them. Thankfully it wasn't on my radar in '94. In fact, I didn't have to suffer listening to any of this until today. But life's funny like that. Maybe I went to that Halloween party because there was no World Series. If the Joker had more than one night with that Asian Cat Lady, I would have never met my (first) wife, would never have experienced the joy of my children. Which reminds me: on our first date, my wife and I went to the movies. I wanted to see Pulp Fiction, but went the safe route and chose Forest Gump. And I bet if we saw Pulp Fiction that night, we'd still be married. That Asian Cat Lady would have LOVED Pulp Fiction as much as I still do. Maybe if this album was playing at her apartment after that Halloween party, I would have gladly washed off my Joker makeup. Maybe we would have had unprotected sex. Anything to drown out this album.

I'm hoping everyone is getting this for Christmas Day (it makes all the sense in the world if that's the case - I mean, how could anyone properly review this on say August 15th?). Just ignore the Phil Spector factor (although just because he became a convicted murderer doesn't make him less of a musical genius, although I'm still not sure what he was trying to do to the Beatles with "Let It Be"). Focus on all the joy and wonder that is the living national treasure known as one Darlene Love. One of the greatest things David Letterman did was to have Love sing "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" on his late night show every Christmas for something like 26 consecutive years. It's reportedly the only Christmas song Dave likes, so he'd have Darlene come out and belt her classic holiday tune with Paul Schaefer and company every year. What a gift for Darlene Love. And what a gift she is to us. Just listen to her start this album off by making a Bing Crosby classic all her own. Love's version of "White Christmas" is the only one I want to hear. Besides this album, the only other holiday album I enjoy is the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. This album is a big reason damn near every artist at least tries to record a Christmas song at some point in their career. Hell, I might have even choked up a bit during Spector's spoken word message over "Silent Night". In 100 years, the world will have moved on from Mariah Carey's Christmas song, but people will still be listening to Spector's Wall Of Sound, and Darlene Love will wear the crown as the true Queen Of Christmas.

Where California isn’t a setting, but rather an idea about feeling ugly and dark when everything around you is gorgeous and sunny. As we learned from another 1970’s song, it never rains in (southern) California. But man, it pours. We’re always going to fuck up a wet dream. Dreams of land, cocaine, the warm smell of colitas, relationships, cruising the freeway with a drug dealer named The Count, success. The album's theme is how inevitable it is that we’ll destroy everything that's beautiful. And it's the masterpiece from perhaps the most-hated, most-loved band of the past 50 years. This is the sound of a band clicking on all cylinders. A band that finally realized their strengths (their drummer being their best vocalist and songwriter, having now two rock guitar virtuosos in their lineup) and eliminated their weaknesses (Glenn Frey might have been the band’s “leader”, but his vocal skills were better suited to harmonize with Henley and Meisner). It’s Henley’s voice that dominates the album, but Frey, Joe Walsh, and Randy Meisner each get a lead vocal on standout songs. Don Felder, the lone band member who doesn’t get a lead vocal, makes his presence known on two killer songs in particular that he co-wrote: “Victim of Love”, a song he’ll go to his grave believing he was promised was his to sing lead on; and the title track, which wouldn’t be the classic rock staple it continues to be without his incredible guitar work. The guitar “duel” at the end between Felder and Walsh is so incendiary that the band insisted on keeping it unedited on the single, where it went all the way to number one on the Billboard Hot 100. Each member’s contribution on that song alone is essential, from Henley’s seething vocals to Meisner’s bassline. Frey especially shines on “New Kid in Town”, the vocal arrangements of which are among my favorites of any song. It’s a pretty song, where the band admits they’re hot shit right now, but they know there’s a slew of rising artists bubbling up on the scene ready to take their place (The Eagles worrying about when all the fun will be over certainly seems like the most Eagles thing ever). Bob Dylan said that Joe Walsh’s “Pretty Maids All in a Row” could be “one of the best songs ever”. I’m not one to judge Dylan’s taste, but I’m all in favor of anything that makes Joe Walsh feel good. But again, the vocal harmonies are nothing short of sensational. When they harmonize like this, I’ll take the Eagles over any band. I’ve always thought of “Try to Love Again” as Meisner’s sequel to “Take It to The Limit”. In my mind, the Eagles aren't the Eagles without Randy Meisner, an exceptional bass player with a high falsetto so breathtaking it eventually became too much for him to perform on a nightly basis (which fits right in with this album's theme now that I think about it). But this is really when Glenn Frey realized it’s best to get out of the way and just let Henley cook. Henley handles the lead vocals on 5 of the albums 9 songs, including the band’s best-known track. Henley's voice is perfect for emphasizing how anything that feels so good comes with a price on “Life in The Fast Lane”, and the album’s closer, “The Last Resort”. And it's on the heart-wrenching, underrated ballad “Wasted Time” where Henley firmly steps out from the drum kit and is allowed to just stand alone and wail. His vocals brim with soul and emotion in his attempt to reach out to a former lover and convince her to accept that it was all worth it, underscored by the quick instrumental reprise that opens Side Two of the album. There’s a reason why Don Henley’s solo career left Glenn Frey’s in the dust. Henley was not only a better songwriter, but a more soulful and interesting vocalist (just listen to Henley’s background vocals on Linda Ronstadt’s cover of “Blue Bayou” for further proof). This is one of my Desert Island Albums. Frankly, any album that an artist can play in its entirety live in front of sold-out crowds is essential. I own this album on practically every format possible, save for 8-Track, because I’m not a monster. The Eagles even got me to buy a remastered 40th Anniversary Expanded Edition, which included a live set from the band at the peak of their powers (listen to that version of the album on your preferred platform). If I could only listen to 10 albums from this list for the rest of my life, this is clearly one of the ten I'd choose.

My favorite moment on the album happens during "Somebody Have Mercy" towards the end when Swingin' Sam wails about how there's something wrong with him. "It ain't that leukemia," Sam answers. "That ain't it." This album never fails to put me in a great mood. It's just an all-around joy, and Sam Cooke is having such a good time that he encourages everyone in the audience (and by association, everyone listening) to keep the party going well beyond the final song. When the pandemic started all the way back in March, 2020 and it became obvious we were all going to spend an extended amount of time quarantining, I bought digital copies of this album and Sam Cooke at the Copa. It's not an exaggeration to say both albums got me through that first part of the pandemic. I longed to be at those performances with people singing every word and having the time of their lives. God bless the late Sam Cooke. Dude found a way to enthrall listeners who weren't even born - hell, people who wouldn't even be a dirty thought for decades to come - when he played the Harlem Square Club. That's the mark of a true legend.

Good start here. Reminded me a little bit of Miles Davis; had never heard of the album or artist before listening. Enjoyed this immensely.

Close to a perfect album. The Only Living Boy In New York and The Boxer are two of my all time favorite songs. So good it doesn't even lose points for being my ex-mother-in-law's favorite album. Art of course was given his moment to shine on the title track. This is a surprisingly easy 5.

Enjoyable, glad I was introduced to it, but I have a sneaky suspicion I'll never listen to it again on purpose. Pleasant enough and probably just not my overall cup of tea. Deserves to be on the 1,001 albums list for certain.

It took this album to make me finally learn the Pet Shop Boys covered the Village People. I was familiar with all of the Pet Shop Boys '80's work, but this one somehow escaped me. I always liked their hits from the' 80's so I'm not surprised I enjoyed this. And to think I thought the Pet Shop Boys ended with the Me Decade...

I tried. Never found a way to grab me. Admittedly the genre has never been in my wheelhouse completely. Would ordinarily give it a repeat listen, but it's almost like one complete listen told me everything I needed to know.

You think you've heard of all 1,001 of these albums before starting this project? You haven't. Never had an introduction to The Divine Comedy until now. At first, I thought this was a parody of Jim Morrison meets Richard Cheese, as lead singer Neil Hannon songs about sex as often as Morrison. Worthy entry on the list. Have already listened to more Divine Comedy. Hannon is my age, maybe that has something to do with this band's appeal to me.

What a joy! I see multiple plays of this album in my future. Could eventually see myself going back and bumping this one up to a 5, but I can't just hand out 5's like they're tic tacs.

I only knew "There She Goes" from this ("There She Goes" is a 5). So based on that perfect pop song, along with the fact it's on this list, I was expecting great things. It's not the perfect pop album some claim it is. You know what is the perfect pop album from a similar time? "Girlfriend" by Matthew Sweet. Girlfriend is a 5, and somehow that perfect pop album isn't on this list. But The La's is? I don't get it. The album is fine, it just doesn't need to be on this list. Put Matthew Sweet on here instead. Still love "There She Goes" though. But one perfect song does not a great album make.

Knew of Different Class (and especially "Common People"), but this album was an introduction for me. Surprised by how much I'm enjoying the Dickens out of it. Not sure why a 14 minute closing song was necessary.

Surprised they made the list, with a live album no less. But no "Hush"? If you're going to represent live albums, I can't see (or hear) why. Nice cover of a Little Richard song, and I guess it was OK to hear a different version of "Smoke On The Water".

Somehow I missed out on this band during their heyday. I got into the other bigger ones from the Era (Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, Soundgarden) and must have figured I was all set. But I saw Singles a million times and knew "Would" from that movie. It's bizarre, I love Nirvana and Pearl Jam and like some other grunge acts. But this one for me is just OK. Two good songs.

Brand spanking new to me. Never heard of the band, the album, the lobster bibs until this very moment. Enjoyable, warrants repeat listens. Nice "Under The Boardwalk" cover. Good power pop, similar to "Get The Knack" by the Knack and some of the better songs by The Raspberries (speaking of which, looking for both on the list).

Hey John McVie is on this album, too. Gave it a second listen, and it's really, really good. Teetering between 3 and 4 stars. Absolutely deserves to be on the list.

Ugh. No. Just no. Will give it the old college try, but I'm surprised to see anything by them making the list. Turns out I like Some of it, especially the Desmond Child songs. It's fine. Just never completely grabs me. Probably a 2 at best, but that's an achievement coming from me (my head was screaming "1" from the moment the album appeared). Nope, sorry. It's a 1.

"Groovin" is a perfect, timeless song so this album has that already going for it (Groovin is a 5). "How Can I Be Sure" is another classic. And there's a song I only knew as a Pat Benetar song ("You Better Run"). The other songs don't really compare to those gems, but it's still a great listen overall.

Concerned when I noticed an 18-minute song. But guess what? I didn't hate it. Maybe don't love it, but really enjoyed this album and listened to a few songs more than once. Lots of instrumental, but good stuff. Great background music. Teetering between a 3 and a 4 but solid addition to the list. Glad I heard it. And I'M LISTENING AGAIN!

Love Plus One is a 5, and I like some of Nick Heyward's solo stuff (Whistle Down The Wind is a 5). This is their only album, so intrigued to listen to see if it's list worthy. And...its just OK. It's like the Brit version of They Might Be Giants, or an edgier Spandau Ballet. A few good songs, but a bit puzzled why this made the list. It's truthfully a 2.5. Might mark it a 3 just for the first 2 songs. Frankly I prefer either of the first 2 Culture Club albums over this.

I went through an Eels phase earlier in my life. I've always liked a handful of songs (Spotify tells me I "liked" 4 before listening to this album). I ultimately decided Eels is watered down Beck, and this album proves that theory. Not like that's a bad thing, I still enjoy Eels and this album. It's just not a desert island album. Definitely belongs on the list. And Novacaine For The Soul is an all-timer.

It's ultimately just not my cup of tea. It's impossibly to not let personal preference get in the way of voting here. But I'll take this over Bon Jovi or Kid Rock any day. Awful first track, but the remaining tunes are decent enough.

Really? To paraphrase an old joke, the worst thing about Traffic is Steve Winwood. Or maybe it's the best thing about Traffic. Either way, at least this isn't "Roll With It" I guess. All preconceived biases aside, not a bad listen at all. "While You See A Chance" is a great song. The rest of the album is fine. I guess it's fine to be on a list of 1,001 albums I need to expose to my ears before dying. Winwood played all of the instruments on the entire album, so there's that. Still, meh.

Oh yeah. One of my go to albums. Would get a 5 for "Lost In The Supermarket", "Train In Vain" and the title track alone. And everything else is great, amazing a "double album" like this contains no filler. My second 5 in 21 days.

There's a good album in here somewhere. I'm guessing a fun game to play would be to pair it down from 69(!) songs to around 15. Then we might have a 5 star album. As it is, it's just too self-indulgent.

Neneh Cherry should have been HUGE. Buffalo Stance was, and is, huge because Buffalo Stance is a 5. Nenah was ahead of her time because damn does album still have it all. To paraphrase a lyric from "Love Ghetto", she hit a home run. Actual rating is a 4.5. All of the songs are good, they all just pale in comparison to the magic of Buffalo Stance.

Oh why can't this be Folklore? Then it'd be a 5. This is still one of Taylor's go to albums, but I'm guessing it'll be bumped for Folklore in the future. It better be on a future list. Or maybe the next list will have room for both folklore and 1989. It should, because damn does Taylor know her some hooks. Actual rating is 4.5.

Loved it. Loved everything about it. Will listen to many songs on repeat. Very welcome entry. Already listened three times to determine whether it's a 4 or a 5.

I know this album all too well from the countless times my college roommate played it. So I already have a pleasant attachment to this one. He also listened to "Nothing's Shocking" even more, probably because that's the better album. Been Caught Stealing is an all timer. Overall, it's fine.

Second Pet Shop Boys album! I know a lot of this already, and the hits are bangers. What I've discovered from listening to two of their albums is that a collection of the best PSB songs would be an easy five. But they haven't done that with a complete album yet. Still good, just not classic level.

First time listener. It's good, planning on digging into more Count Basie. My favorite jazz album so far.

I already know two U2 albums (and possibly 3?) are going to get 5's from this reviewer. And I already know this is not one of them. Impossibly overrated. But there's still plenty of good (if not great) moments here. It's just not one of my go-to albums, not from U2. But those are to come...

This isn't the "let's get high and listen to Miles" album I'm familiar with. Loved this one, guessing a further deep dive into Miles Davis is in my future.

New to me. And now I'm wondering why because I absolutely love this album. Holds up much better than most other music from 1982. Somehow sounds timeless and still of its time. Not as consistently great as I like my 5's to be, but already warranted repeat listens and it could eventually grow into a 5 for me.

So I should love Pavement. They're right in my wheelhouse, and my best friend loves all things Pavement. Turns out I really like some of it. Probably deserves (and rewards) repeat listens. And it turns out I really like this album. Surprising gem for me.

Very familiar with Alone Again Or, and always liked it. Was hoping "Always See Your Face" would be on this album. Pleasantly consistent, but I doubt I'll have an interest in listening to the entire album again. It's fine.

Oh yeah. Quick aside, if soundtracks are allowed on this list, then where's Saturday Night Fever? Because Saturday Night Fever is a 5. Also, the Spotify link here does NOT include the entire album, it only allows you to hear 4 songs from the album. If you intend to listen to Spotify, make sure you listen to the remastered Deluxe Edition, which has all 16 songs. Theme from Shaft (the song) is an all-time classic. The rest? Well, it's not Saturday Night Fever. Since I was already familiar with the theme song, the rest of it made me a bit disappointed. It's fine overall. I'm not sure it belongs on the list. It could get kicked off to make room for, gee, I don't know...Saturday Night Fever maybe?

This will be a tough putt, since I absolutely despise Aerosmith's late 80's/early '90's output so much that it compels me to take a pass on their entire catalog. The first 2 songs here are classics, especially Back In The Saddle. That song alone takes this from a 2.5 to a 3. Hey, I like this A LOT more than Bon Jovi!

Embarrassed to say, but (mostly) new to me. The first half alone is a 5, but the 2nd half just brings it down with inconsistency. Deserves to be on the list.

I was hoping for some Copperhead Road. But still enjoyed this immensely. Amazingly consistent all the way through, probably close to as good as it gets for newer country music (and this is from the '80's). Added bonus: the songs Spotify played after the album ended were mainly gems, including some Steve Earle (and yes, the first song played was Copperhead Road, so it was almost like it was on the album). Double Bonus: great live cover of Springsteen's "State Trooper". Went on a Steve Earle deep dive after this. Enjoy!

This was the album I got right after Steve Earle, which I learned was somewhat fitting since Earle and Yoakam had something of a feud or even rivalry. Since they were back-to-back, it's impossible for me to not compare the two albums. While Steve Earle's Guitar Town hit me in my sweet spot immediately, it took a little while for this album to do the same. And it really only did so sporadically. I still enjoyed it, but truth be told, I liked the 4 or 5 other Dwight Yoakam songs Spotify played after the album ended. And thankfully, Guitars and Cadillacs wasn't one of them.

Brand spanking new to me, no idea what this even is. While listening to the album, I read that Leftfield is a duo and they hated this album after they finished it. I agree with them. Probably just not my cup of tea. Hard pass.

Until today, known as the album William Miller was told to listen to with a candle burning so he could see his future. Zooey Deschanel knows of what she speaks of. Listen to this thing in order as the rock opera Townshend intended it to be. Both surprised and not surprised by how much I love this thing. Does Townshend sing lead on too many of the songs? Probably, but this is his baby, and Daltrey does justifiably handle lead vocals on the most famous song ("Pinball Wizard"). I have a sneaky suspicion a number of Who albums could get 5 ratings from me. And this is somewhere between a 4 and a 5. It's just a little too long. Maybe I just need to light a candle while listening to it.

Well they're certainly not the White Stripes. I don't hate it, but don't particularly like it either. Spike Island is a good song. I wish there was another White Stripes album on this list to take Penance Soiree's place.

I love her early 70's work, and even most of "Luck Of The Draw". Apparently Bonnie Raitt was going to make an album with Prince before this album, and was even signed to his Paisley Park album before things fell apart. Now THAT'S an album I want to hear. Wondering if THIS should be the Bonnie Raitt album represented on this list. Thinking it's a bit over praised because it won some surprise Grammys. And then I listened to it again, and it makes all the sense in the world why it's here. I still think Tom Petty's Full Moon Fever should have won the Album Of The Year Grammy instead, but this is a great listen.

The first of likely many Dylan albums here. The only debate is whether it gets a 4 or 5 from me. Good God, the music released in 1965 is just insane. I don't see how anyone can give this anything less than a 4. I count Subterranean Homesick Blues, Maggie's Farm, Love Minus Zero, Bob Dylan's 115th Dream, Mr. Tambourine Man, It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding) and It's All over Now, Baby Blue as classics. So it's a 5 from those seven gems alone. Don't fight it.

It's...I don't know, fine? I don't despise it enough to brand it with a 1 and seemed OK with a few songs. I guess there's a place for it on the list, but just barely. It's in the lower 2's. I'm probably being generous because I like Henry Rollins, maybe more as a screen presence than a singer. The TV Party song that gives SNL a shout out saves it from being a 1.

Really? It should be on a list alright. And that list is of Albums You Never Need To Hear Again before you die. This has no business being in THIS list. Hard pass. Replace with Florence + The Machine. Hey, I tried.

Buck AND his Buckaroos? As is often the case with Buck, I need to get past the Hee Haw connection. It'll never be my go to for country music, but deserves a place on the list. But just barely. I get his influence. I get that Dwight Yokam thinks Buck Owens hung the moon. But in terms of country music, there are more deserving albums that should be on the list. Still wondering where Hank Williams is, but it's probably just that he died before the album era really took off. And that Hee Haw connection is a bridge too far, probably bumps it down a notch. Actual rating is 2.5.

I love Vs. and Vitalogy, which makes me think perhaps the wrong Pearl Jam album is on the list. I know the album very well, and revisiting it should tell whether it's a 4 or 5. This holds up incredibly well. If you don't let some of the heavy subject matter get to you, this will always be an enjoyable listen. Bonus points: Sent me on a deep dive through the heap of incredible live Pearl Jam albums (seriously, I stopped counting, there were so many in Spotify alone). Minus point: Realizing my favorite Pearl Jam songs aren't on this album. Actual rating is 4.5.

Reminding myself that it's perfectly fine to hate this and still love the Beastie Boys. I don't completely hate it, but the old adage remains true. A little of the Butthole Surfers goes a long way. I'm also 99 percent sure I'll never listen to this album again.

What a surprisingly great find. Sounds a lot like Stevie Wonder (especially vocally), which is a huge compliment. All I knew of Jamiroquai was that one video that MTV used to show on repeat back in say 1997. I believe it was for a song called "Virtual Insanity". All I know for sure is Chris Rock made fun of it when he hosted the VMA's around that time. Nevertheless, this came dangerously close to a 5 for me. This album compelled me to put in a 30-minute sprint on the treadmill I enjoyed it so much. Might be just a BIT too long. Tighten this baby up a bit and we'd be looking at a solid 5.

Here we go. I got into Pearl Jam, Nirvana and (thanks to this list) Pavement, but never took a real chance on the Pumpkins (other than their cover of Fleetwood Mac's Landslide). Wondering if it should be a double album or would play better pared down. But when I think of the best double albums (London Calling, The White Album, Tusk, Sign O' The Times) they all flow well despite the few rare songs I'd rather skip. The key is none of those four albums seem long, and I can play them all the way through without wanting to stop. This one surprisingly falls in that category. I'd have let James Iha sing a few more songs, but that's a personal preference as I lean towards Iha's musical tastes. But Corgan passes the ball around JUST enough (the brilliant instrumental title track, Iha sings lead on one of the songs he wrote, and all 4 members take turns on the album closer). Worth noting the "tender" tracks have aged the best. And "1979" is a perfect song. Even at 28 songs, the album as a whole remains something of a marvel.

We're on a '90's kick here. Before I listened to this album, the most I'd ever gotten into Sonic Youth was their quite overrated version of "Superstar". This was better than I expected. Much better than their attempt at "Superstar" for certain. Realizing now as someone who DJ'd at my campus alternative radio station from 1991-93, I let a lot of good music slip by me. There's a song on here (Drunken Butterfly) that apparently takes its lyrics from Heart song titles and lyrics. This album just flat out works as a whole. Kept listening to more Sonic Youth via Spotify after this album ended. Giving it another listen to avow my love, and to ensure it deserves the title of most surprising (or most out of left field) 5. I also just discovered there are FIVE Sonic Youth albums on this list. Seems high. As far as Dirty is concerned, it's the most surprising 4 so far. I'm still not sure what "noise rock" is, but if that's how you describe Sonic Youth, no one does that genre better.

Screams to be bumped off the list for something more deserving. Some of it's decent, like Glam-Racket and I'm Going To Spain. The album does get somewhat better as it goes along. I can't help but think I'd have a more favorable opinion with a different vocalist. Maybe it'll improve on repeat listens, but I currently have no desire to listen to it again. Actual rating is 2.5.

I knew and loved "Buzzin' Fly" before listening to the album (it was maybe the only tune by Tim Buckley I was even aware of). "Buzzin' Fly" is a 5. The rest of the album doesn't have that sort of, pardon the pun, Buzz. It's just a snooze. I have a feeling this would be a much more enjoyable listen while stoned or on other mind altering treats. As of now, I think I prefer his son Jeff's work. I almost feel bad panning the album after falling down a Tim Buckley rabbit hole and learning about how he died at 28 with nothing but a guitar and amp, let alone the fate that awaited his son. I guess what I'm saying is this album should have just been called "Sad".

Now THIS is more like it, especially after the Tim Buckley disappointment. Had me right at the start with "Come All Ye". Reminds me of the New Pornographers in a lot of ways, and The Decemberists in other ways. Fun bonus fact: Turns out Fairport Convention singer Sandy Denny sang with Robert Plant on "The Battle Of Evermore" on Led Zeppelin IV. That little fact obviously helps the latter album's rating more than this one's, but it's worth noting. Listen to her voice on this album and you can hear why Plant was so taken with Sandy Denny.

There's that great scene in Stripes, where Bill Murray's girlfriend argues with him about always listening to Tito Puente. Murray responds by saying, "You know, one day, Tito Puente will be dead, and you'll say, 'Oh, yes, I've been listening to his work for years.'" The same theory could apply to John Prine. I never heard one word about John Prine, but when he got COVID and died, suddenly he had fans coming out of the woodworks. Might be crass to say, but I believe it was further magnified by the fact he was one of the first celebrity COVID deaths (for further reference, witness the outpouring of love for the dude from Fountains Of Wayne). So yeah, sacreligious as it might be in some corners, I think Prine is a tad overrated. Sounds like someone doing a Dylan imitation if Dylan went completely country. Angel Of Montgomery saves this for me, but I prefer other versions, especially Bonnie Raitt's cover. Angel Of Montgomery is a 5, and suggests that I should give Prine another chance. He was obviously a great songwriter. I'm sure I'll like him more than Tito Puente.

Finally! I knew there were a ton of Byrds albums on here, and this is my first one. In many ways, this is one of the finest country albums I've ever listened to, and the best country album I've heard so far from this list. It starts off with a bang (You Ain't Goin' Nowhere, written by Dylan, is a 5). No David Crosby in this version of the Byrds, but we get the wonders of Gram Parsons instead. Sneaky suspicion there are too many Byrds albums on the list, but this one is definitely a keeper.

Possibly even better than I remembered. It probably deserves 5 stars just from the album opener (Gimme Shelter) and closer (You Can't Always Get What You Want) alone. You've heard most of these songs in your favorite Scorsese movies. There's a reason most of these songs continue to score movie soundtracks. This is about as good as it gets. I just love this album. There's plenty of Stones on this list (too many, or too few?), but this is without a doubt one of their essential albums, during that incredible 4-album stretch over 4 years. It may not be my favorite Stones album (that one is still to come), but anyone who claims Let It Bleed is their best album will get no argument from me.

At times this sounds like someone doing a Louis Armstrong impersonation set to some new age music Chuck Mangione would approve of without the trumpet. None of this really bothers me. I'm just to the point where I have to wonder if it was completely necessary to hear this before dying. Oh well, at least I'm now aware of who John Martyn is, which might have been his goal all along. Some would say forcing me to look up the correct spelling of Mangione should affect the album's rating. I'll call it a push and give it an extra star since it's pleasant background music and I'd bad putting it in the 1 dustbin. Plus I also believe Martyn would have been a great hang, despite what impact this album had on me. I bet Sade really digs this album.

I can't imagine why there needs to be more than two Tom Waits albums on this list. Some (myself included) might suggest that one is too many. But hey, I gave Bon Jovi a chance so we'll see what this bastard has up his sleeve here. I'll admit I like Jersey Girl, but that's because of Springsteen's version and I always associate it more with Springsteen than I do Waits (as I'm sure is the case for a good number of folks). I'll admit to liking Waits' version of Jersey Girl, as Jersey Girl is a 5. Sort of wish "Saving All My Love For You" was his take on the Whitney Houston song. Look, he's a good songwriter, and if there's an album of his that should be on this list, it's "Closing Time". This one is later in his career when his voice was beyond annoying. The album did get a little better with Jersey Girl, and started to grow on me a bit, only to then just annoy me to no end. The only thing keeping it from the 1 dustbin is I didn't hate this as much as I thought I would. And Jersey Girl. But I'd really like to see a more deserving album take this one's place.

New to me. Not in n but wheelhouse but that doesn't mean it's not great. My favorite song is the one with Jay-Z. Loses a rating for having to introduce each track with "This is a Missy Elliott exclusive". That might come across as charming if the track appears on some upcoming random playlists, so we'll call it a push. Missy knows her hooks. Actual rating is 3.5.

It's obvious that if there's a "hole in my game", it's with hip-hop. It's probably my least listened to genre. But doing this list every day has at least allowed me to experience a lot of it. It may never be my jam, but I can at least appreciate the albums I've listened to on this list. My hunch is I'll listen to certain songs on playlists and not the albums again. This is different hip-hop from what I've had so far on the list. Not a lot of danceable songs here, and tends to sound more like relatable background music. Also: no swear words! Not that they're necessary, just worth mentioning as something that is different from others in the same genre. It's decent enough. But I spent some time listening with the dreaded "meh" word coming to mind. Definitely belongs on the list, but I put it behind entries I've heard by Public Enemy, Missy Elliot and (my favorite, although some wouldn't call her hip hop) Nenah Cherry.

Somehow it's both unfairly overlooked (which is inevitable considering it's the follow up to Dark Side Of The Moon) and still a bit overrated. The title track is a classic, and your mileage may vary on the Syd Barrett bookend tributes. Sometimes these can sound like something The Doors would do after losing Jim Morrison. If I can listen again after finding a suitable edible, the overall score will likely jump to a 5. But that's probably the result with every Pink Floyd album. I enjoy this album heaps more than The Wall, edibles be damned. And on some days, I even prefer it to Dark Side Of The Moon. As of this writing, Wish You Were Here is one of the Top 10 best reviewed albums on the list. Seems high.

Hard pass. Get it off the list. Songs 4 and 5 started with some promise only to revert to annoyance. This is the album you'll hear after you die on an endless loop in hell.

So 63 albums in, this is now the third Pet Shop Boys album I've had. Seems high. Especially when you consider I haven't had any Bowie or Beatles albums yet. Look, I love a ton of Pet Shop Boys songs. There have probably been five or six songs from the albums I've listened to that I consider classics. But none of the albums stand out at that in a way that would elevate them to a 4 or 5 ratings. I certainly haven't disliked any of the albums enough to suggest they shouldn't be on this list. So maybe three Pet Shop Boys albums are fine on the list. My favorite of the three albums would have to be "Actually" if only for the two absolute bangers that appear on it (It's A Sin and What Have I Done To Deserve This). Behaviour is my least favorite among the three. This is the last I'll see of the Pet Shop Boys on this list, as apparently the algorithm determined I needed all of them served to me early on in this process. I can't help but take that personally. But I did finally get to hear the Pet Shop Boys amazing cover of the great Village People song "Go West", so at least I have that going for me.

First Elvis album, either Costello or Presley. If we're including "Watching The Detectives" on this album (and there's no reason not to, it was on every United States version of the LP), there's a chance this could be the best Elvis album (although not overall if we include Presley). What a debut album, from the moment the killer Track 1 kicks off through the end. Oh, and "Alison" is on this album. This is the power pop you're looking for. There's a ton of Elvis on this list, and if I could only have one (Costello) album, I'd be hard pressed choosing between this one and "This Year's Model".

Frances McDormand used the album cover as a visual aid for young William Miller to suggest all rock stars were on dope, something obvious by simply looking at their eyes. Frankly, I don't see it. Paul is trying a little too hard for a look that a young David Schwimmer would perfect some 30 years later, and Artie was likely just caught in a moment scratching the back of his head, or maybe he was trying harder to hear out of his left ear. Second Simon and Garfunkel album I've had from the list so far. There are four solid classics on this album that alone could warrant a 5. The final rating comes down to your desire to be transformed into a Kellogg's Corn Flake, or your feelings on poor Artie being tasked with going out and recording voices of old folks just to get a song writing credit. The loud Moog/Clockwork Orange sound at the start of "Save The Life Of My Child" suggests maybe Frances McDormand was on to something. There are some folks who suggest the Bangles cover of "A Hazy Shade of Winter" is better than the original. Others offer a similar opinion about the Lemonheads cover of "Mrs. Robinson". Both camps are wrong, but the popularity of those covers helps underscore how Paul Simon is one of our greatest songwriters. This is the album when Paul really took perfectionistic control of things, as if to leave no doubt as to who was Tom and who was Jerry. Somehow the closing song "At The Zoo" works for me. The only thing I ever want to see at the zoo is the exit sign. What I'm saying is I don't like the zoo, but I really like this album.

What a joy! Just right up my alley. When you think of the ten most known Ray Charles songs, I'm guessing not a one of them are included on this album. And yet this comes as close to a perfect Ray Charles album as you're going to find, especially from this era. I expected to hear Ol' Ray's version of "Don't Let The Sun Catch You Crying" to be the one I only knew by Gerry and the Pacemakers, so this version was new to me. I'm sure Ray would have nailed that version, too. Look, it goes without saying Ray's a legend and both albums on this list deserve placement in the upper echelon. But after hearing Ray's version of "Come Rain Or Come Shine", I have a hot take. I prefer Don Henley's version. If you knew my appreciation of Henley's work that wouldn't be surprising at all. I could listen to Don Henley and Ray Charles sing the phone book.

A great document that practically screams "What might have been". Less than a year after this album's release, lead singer Ian Curtis hanged himself. This was the only Joy Division album released during his short life. Track 1 (Disorder) is a solid 5. The album gets murkier from there. Probably more on the overrated side, especially from the camp that suggests Joy Division should go in the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame as a combo piece with New Order. You can hear distinctly the many bands influenced by this (especially The Smiths). I love "Disorder" and "Shadowplay". People tend to really heap too much praise on Curtis' vocals. They're fine, but to be honest, he gets over lauded because he died too young. Overall, it's indecently overrated, especially when compared to their follow up album.

Let's start here: None of the Monkees' songs you're familiar with are on this album. There's no Daydream Believer. No I'm A Believer. No Last Train To Clarksville. Not even the gloriously weird song that was used at the end of a late season episode of Mad Men (it's called "Porpoise Song" and it's on Head, an album a sort of wish was on this list. "Porpoise Song" is a 5). I'm glad to see The Monkees getting recognition on the list, although I wonder if this is the album that should represent them. It was released towards the end of their Imperial Phase. This is the album where the Monkees actually got to play their own instruments, as if to show the world they weren't just actors hired for a silly TV show. Has one absolute banger in "Randy Scouse Git", two if we're allowed to include "A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You", which is on the Spotify version I listened to. That one, like several Monkees songs, was written by a gentleman named Neil Diamond. Ol' Neil isn't anywhere on this list. Probably because Neil was more of a singles artist than anything else. Just like the Monkees.

Her only solo album, and it continues to have more impact and appeal than many other artists have in their entire careers. Your mileage may vary on the brief interludes interspersed throughout the album (I'll admit, I'd rather they weren't included, but thankfully there aren't so many that they become annoying), but my God, there's not a clunker in the bunch of songs. I can't get enough of "Ex-Factor" and "When It Hurts So Bad". Reminds me a lot of Nina Simone, Nenah Cherry and even Joni Mitchell while still being it's own unique thing. This album deserves the praise it continues to receive, and my hunch is a major reason Lauryn Hill never really even tried to make another album is because she knew nothing could top this. By the way, my rating takes into consideration the 2 hidden tracks: the cover of "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" and "Tell Him". They might be my 2 favorite Lauryn Hill songs, and they're what puts the album over the top into 5 territory.

I love Ice Cube, the actor. Never got into his music so this is a first. This album is almost 30 years old and it somehow sounds like it was made today with Cube (I saw Three Kings in a theater, so I feel like I'm allowed to call him Cube) speaking to issues that currently plague society. I was going to suggest the album is even more relevant today than it was upon release - something I wish wasn't accurate - but then I learned it was released around the time of the Rodney King verdict. Love the drops from Predator 2. "It Was A Good Day" is an all-timer 5. The rest of the album almost fails in comparison to that classic. But this absolutely deserves a spot on this list, and I now get why Perry Farrell refers to Cube as the "black Bob Dylan".

There's a reason Nirvana's "Nevermind" and Pearl Jam's "Ten" became breakthrough albums and crossed into the mainstream and this one just sputtered on the launching pad. Pass. Hard pass. Just doesn't do it for me. I tried, but this was some rough sledding. It wouldn't hurt my feelings at all to have this bumped off the list in favor of Pearl Jam's "Vs." or even "Vitalogy".

My favorite EWF songs are (and pay attention, these are in order) Fantasy, September, and their transcendent cover of the Beatles' Got To Get You Into My Life. None of these are on this album, the lone EWF entry on the list. Shining Star opens the album, followed by the title track. They're both 5's (although not in my own personal Top 5, which tells you how great EWF were). But what I really want to learn more about is that apparently this album is the soundtrack to a movie of the same name starring Harvey Keitel. One would think with all of the streaming options available that at least one of them would have this curiosity available for our ready viewing pleasure. Earth, Wind & Fire actually appear in the film as a fictionalized version of themselves in a group known as...The Group? An IMDB user tells us the movie is worth seeking out and even likens it to the Paul Simon vehicle "One Trick Pony". That's all the inspiration I needed (big props to IMDB user lambiepie-2, as Prince would say, may u live 2 c the dawn), so I found this cinematic marvel on Tubi. The movie is everything I imagined it would be. It opens with EWF performing "That's The Way Of The World" while a young Harvey Keitel runs the control board. And it's pretty much a disaster from there. Keitel's record label would rather Harvey showed more interest in wan seemingly incestuous white trio called The Pages (which is somehow an even worse name than The Group). The Pages are a mix of the Carpenters, Helen Reddy, and the Starlight Vocal Band before they discovered the joy and wonders of a Nooner. White family acts were hip back then, you see. It's a thinly veiled commentary on the music industry and faceless, corporate America. It's cheesy in a way you'd expect from a forgettable film released in 1975. The script goes out of it's way to have characters say the title of the movie at least three times (possibly more, I just gave up after the third time). The movie made me appreciate the album, Harvey Keitel, Maurice White, Philip Bailey, and possibly Karen Carpenter, even more.

The Kansas City Royals enjoyed their first 25 years of existence as one of the model Major League Baseball franchises. They won 2 pennants and a World Series, and never finished in last place. Then around 1996, the franchise reversed course and spent a good 15 years as an embarrassment. They tried all sorts of gimmicks to still maintain fan interest they hoped would somehow remove the stench of the lackluster product on the field. The added black to their uniform color scheme for a few forgettable years. And most notably, they finally decided the team needed a mascot: A lion wearing a crown named Sluggerrr. This is really a long way to say if the team was any good, they wouldn't need to create an embarrassing mascot with unnecessary R:s in its name. The same goes for music bands. If the music is any good, it wouldn't need to create a mascot. It turns out Megadeth has a mascot, one prominently on display of this album and most of their other work. Apparently the mascot even shows up during concerts. What the mascot really tells us is that the music is not enough. It's a mask alright. But I can't completely dismiss this due to the fact that thrash metal doesn't appeal to me. There's a ton of metal and hard rock that clearly does speak to me. This just doesn't, but I can still see where there's a certain sector that proclaims this is the best thrash metal album of all time, or at least enjoys it. It was rough sledding for this author, but I found parts I could appreciate and save it from the 1 bin. It's fine for representing whatever thrash metal or guitar masterbation is. I'll also give the album artwork credit for telling me everything I need to know.

Interesting that this is the one that finally broke Stipe and Company through. Maybe listeners were just yearning for fire. R.E.M are forever on my list of Top 5 all-time favorite bands. Sometimes they're even number one on the list. Personally, I rank Murmur, Automatic for the People, Reckoning, and Fables of the Reconstruction ahead of this one. It's their first album produced by Scott Litt, and to my ears, the first full album where Stipe's vocals are firmly front and center - no more trying to decipher what Michael was singing about (and R.E.M. famously never printed their lyrics in liner notes, at least not until "Up" and Bill Berry retired). It still allowed for an ironic misheard lyric during "End Of The World". I know I wasn't alone in thinking he sang "no beer" instead of "no fear" (and frankly, I prefer "Uh oh, this means no beer"). The band's secret sauce has always been Mike Mills' backup vocals, which are also prominently displayed here. I love his "Time I spent some time alone" refrain on "It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)". That song provides a better history lesson than Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start The Fire" ever did. It made me want to learn more about Lenny Bruce, Lester Bangs, book burning, and cheesecake. Mills' backup vocals shine on every track, "Lightnin' Hopkins" in particular. That's my favorite track on the album. First appearance of a saxophone on an R.E.M. album. It shows up at the end of "Fireplace". Maybe Berry, Buck, Mills and Stipe knew fire was the key to finally crack the Top 10 (it seems fire is mentioned on at least half the songs). This is the album (along with Automatic For The People) that rewards repeat listening. Go for the 25th Anniversary Remastered Edition, so you can keep listening to their Work Tour show from the Netherlands in support of this classic album. Everyone should hear the live version of "So. Central Rain" on that edition before they die.

In the 2021HBO documentary "Tina", Tina Turner admits she thought the original Bucks Fizz version of "What's Love Got to Do With It" was "terrible". A snippet of the song is played, and you totally agree with Tina. She's eventually sold on the idea of the song's potential, and Tina takes this bland, vanilla song and turns it into a goddamn fireworks show. She does the same thing with her cover of "Let's Stay Together". But for my money, the essential track from Private Dancer - the one song I'd put in a time capsule to exemplify Tina Turner at the peak of her powers in 1984 - is "Better Be Good To Me". It wasn't as big as "What's Love" but it has more staying power. It hints at the young Tina Turner who took "Proud Mary" and set that thing on fire, leaving CCR in the dust. It made all the sense in the world that Tina would have a second act in that magical musical year of 1984. It was also a peak year for MTV, and Tina popped off the screen in her videos with seduction and sex appeal that spoke to an audience that didn't care she was 44 years old, and had no idea she had an earlier life making amazing records with an abusive husband. We were just waiting for Tina to show up, and she fit right in alongside Madonna and Cyndi Lauper to provide real star appeal. I'm not crazy about the black cat on the album cover hiding Tina's legs. It's disappointing that "It's Only Love", her collaboration Bryan Adams, ended up on his album Reckless and not here. But I get it, Adams wrote the song so he dictates terms. Turner's dynamic force is almost enough to soar over the dated instruments prominently on display here. It's so great that Tina is getting one more victory lap at the end of her life, getting long overdue recognition by the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. Her comeback in 1984 is one of the greatest in rock history. Hell, she lived long enough to see her own Bio-Pic. We can still recognize Tina's solo career while also acknowledging her best songs were with Ike. You really should seek out old footage of Tina doing Proud Mary to truly comprehend what a force of nature she was. Actual rating is 3.5.

The Adam Ant entry on this list needs a recount. To my ears, the album that should be on the list is Adam Ant's "Friend Or Foe". Yes, that's the one with "Goody Two Shoes" as well as the title track, "Desperate But Not Serious", "Something Girl" and a great cover of The Doors' "Hello I Love You". It's full of absolute bangers. This album really has only one: "Antmusic". The rest of this is wildly inconsistent, and only hints and the magic Adam Ant would find on his solo work. An apt comparison to Adam Ant and Adam and the Ants would be David Johansen and the New York Dolls.

Let's just get this right out of the way early: Huey Lewis is on this album, playing harmonica on "Baby Drives Me Crazy". So this automatically gets 2 stars just for that surprising little nugget. And I'm not especially a Huey Lewis fan at all. Thin Lizzy gets my consideration as one of the more underrated bands of all-time. Most people only know them for "The Boys Are Back In Town" (a stellar version of which appears here as part of a seamless one-two punch with "Cowboy Song"). Most of Thin Lizzy's output holds up quite well. I don't usually like live albums, but I love this one. I wouldn't be upset to also find the Jailbreak album on this list. Apparently there's a sector of folks who immediately dismiss this album, claiming it's "overdubbed". Don't ALL Live albums have overdubs? The only unpolished live albums are bootlegs. And down at Dino's Bar'n'Grill the drink will flow and blood will spill, and if the boys wanna fight, you better let 'em.

I prefer Merle a million times more than Buck Owens. Some will draw the line from Buck to Merle to Dwight Yoakam and they wouldn't be wrong. Merle gets major points for "Mama Tried" and "Okie From Muskogee" two all time bangers (both are obvious 5's). Neither song appears on this album, so seek those out if you've never heard them. If you're looking to do a deep dive on the wonders of Merle, fair warning: Spotify separates Merle Haggard from Merle Haggard & The Strangers, which is just annoying. This album just scratches the surface of the Merle legend, but it'll help you understand why Merle Haggard merits consideration for the Mount Rushmore of country music.

Big (1988), Directed By Penny Marshall: JOSH BASKIN (RAISES HAND) PAUL: (looking at Josh) Yes, Josh? JOSH BASKIN: I don't get it.

I want to know everything I can about the infamous "Lost Weekend" where John Lennon and Harry Nilsson did everything they could to drink themselves to death. Apparently Nilsson was such a legendary boozehound that all Lennon would have to say about the time was, "I was drinking with Harry Nilsson" and everyone knew exactly what he was talking about. Lennon had such admiration for Nilsson that he was willing to follow the man to the end of the earth. Listening to this album, you hear why Lennon (and apparently the other 3 Beatles) sung Nilsson's praises. The three hits are the standouts, especially "Jump Into The Fire". That one obtained legendary status for scoring the Ray Liotta paranoia coke montage in Goodfellas. I bet Harry Nilsson loved Goodfellas. If you're ever running late somewhere and find the need to go just a tad over the speed limit, I highly recommend scoring your trip to "Jump Into The Fire". You'll find yourself looking up and thinking that helicopters are following you. The song alone is almost enough to rate this baby as a 5 (well, that and the album cover). Back to that Lost Weekend with Harry and Lennon: Apparently video footage of the night Lennon and Nilsson got kicked out of the troubadour because they could not stop heckling the Smothers Brothers doesn't exist. That just breaks my heart. I bet I'd like a movie about their Lost Weekend as much as I love Goodfellas.

Hot take time: The best Talking Heads album is Stop Making Sense. The album and movie especially showcase exactly what makes the band an all-timer (of course, I'm speaking of the latter edition of the album, the one with all 16 songs - apparently the original version of the soundtrack album only had 9 of the songs, which may explain why it's not on the list). And the live versions for the most part have even more appeal than the recorded originals. Crosseyed and Painless, the second song on this album, is more energetic on Stop Making Sense and becomes an absolute banger. This album's centerpiece includes the remarkable "The Great Curve" followed by one of the band's more famous songs, "Once In A Lifetime". The first five songs are close to perfect and really put you right in producer Brian Eno's world. The last three tracks didn't grab me at all on first listen, but improved quite a bit on repeat plays. This is the most complete Talking Heads studio album. An essential 40-minute listen. Spotify gave me the Deluxe Edition, which includes 4 unfinished outtakes to provide further proof the band was at the peak of their powers. And if you've never seen "Stop Making Sense", fix that mistake immediately. It's on the short list of the greatest rock music films.

Nope. It'll take you less time to read Goldie's Wikipedia page and click on the page's links than it will for you to suffer listening to the entirety of just the opening track. I'm guessing this album is one of the first to get bumped from a future edition of the list.

The algorithm is in a foul mood. The only explanation for this appearing on the list is for everyone to hear what a horrible album sounds like. It turns out this album WAS bumped off the list on the latest edition, a wrong that I hope this generator corrects as well. Perhaps this band got better with future albums, but I don't intend to test that possibility. There are parts of a lot of songs that sound great, only to suddenly veer off into an annoying direction. I'm going to want those 34 minutes and 32 seconds back before I die. What a snooze.

Gets credit for having a song in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. The algorithm must believe I've been handing out too many positive reviews because they've thrown some stinkers at me recently. This would be a decent album to put on to fall asleep to, since a lot of it resembles white noise. That said, I didn't loathe it, and it started to grow on me considerably as the album moved along. Spotify tells me I liked one Sugar Rós song before this exercise ("Hoppípola, from one of their later albums). It's sleep music, and there's a place for that. I have a sneaky suspicion I'd bump this score up if I listened while indulging in an edible or two. Actual rating is closer to a 2.5 than a 3 (which is a minor achievement considering I had this earmarked as a 1 early on), but I think Steve Zissou would appreciate marking it in the records as a whole number.

Ordinarily, I like my shape shifters to have more power pop sensibilities. This particular one doesn't have the hooks that say a Taylor Swift can't run away from. There are a lot of interesting moments happening here, and I can see where some folks ride hard for this album. This is the second album in 3 days that came from the "deleted from the original edition" list (also known as "77 Albums That You Don't Really Need To Hear Now Before You Die"). I wouldn't be sad to see it completely erased from the list, but I was surprised by how it captivated me on many tracks. It's fine, I certainly don't hate it with the white hot intensity of 1,000 suns. But there are many albums one could list that deserve a place on the list over Fever Ray. Or maybe I'm just in need of some good guitar rock after the week of moody albums this algorithm has thrown at me.

THIS IS THE BIGGEST, MOST IMPORTANT ALBUM SINCE SGT. PEPPER! I HAVE TALENT THAT HASN'T BEEN UNEARTHED SINCE MOZART! These were among the things Terence Trent D'Arby was openly proclaiming to the press upon this album's release. Then he backed off a little saying only, "I made the most brilliant debut album from any artist this decade.” After he faced a backlash for making such bold statements, he claimed he was joking. I don't think he was joking. He may not have made Sgt. Pepper, and he may not have been Mozart, but dude was immensely talented. And he wasn't really wrong about that last statement suggesting this was the best debut album of the decade. He reminds me of someone else who released an equally brilliant debut album around the same time: Nenah Cherry. Both D'Arby and Cherry should have been colossal stars. They both should have soared to the heights that say George Michael and Whitney Houston reached. But they both sort of fizzled out after their debuts (my theory is a lot of that stems from the fact that neither of them were really all that interested after their debuts). It's too bad, but at least we have the albums, which remain timeless and belong in the upper tier of this list. Somehow, Lenny Kravitz ended up having the career and fame that should have been Terence Trent D'Arby's. I'll take "Wishing Well" over "Fly Away" anytime. In fact, I'll take anything from this album over any Kravitz record. Lenny is no Terence. Lenny doesn't have anything that compares to "Dance Little Sister" or even "Seven More Days". D'Arby was just ahead of his time. I doubt his bold proclamations would have caused such an uproar had this album come out 20 years later (see: Kanye, among others). I "only" gave Nena Cherry's entry 4.5 stars, and immediately kicked myself for not giving it the 5 it deserved. I'm not making that same mistake again. Apparently, Terrence Trent D'Arby legally changed his name to Sananda Maitreya back in 2001, claiming TTD was dead. He's wrong. Terence still rules. And Wishing Well will outlive us all.

Sometimes I think I might like Blur more than Oasis. This isn't something I'm only saying to make the Gallaghers feel bad (although hey, what a nice bonus). I really only knew of Blur before this album showed up on my feed because of Song 2, and even then, it was just because it was overplayed during dull moments of Nebraska Football games. This album made me question why Blur didn't have the success Oasis did in America. Aside from "Wonderwall", I'm not sure Oasis did anything as interesting as this album, although I haven't had a chance to deep dive into the Gallagher Brothers' work outside of their hits. It could just be that I have a perverse appreciation for songs about heroin. The first half of this album is 100 percent perfect, but the second half is a hard pass, so much so that it almost kills all of the goodwill the first half generated (I had a difficult time getting through the last song). There are moments on this album when Blur is trying just a little too hard to be interesting. Sometimes it works. Other times it makes me want to listen to Pavement.

It was next to impossible to find new music in 1993, especially albums from a relatively new and obscure female artist who wanted to be your blow job queen and fuck you until your dick turns blue. The internet wasn't yet a thing, MTV and FM radio wouldn't touch such material, and we had to rely on reviews from Rolling Stone and Spin Magazine to even learn something like this existed. Even then, I don't recall any local record store carrying this album on cassette or compact disc, and I doubt Columbia House offered this album either. So it wasn't until the Wild West Era of Napster that I finally heard Exile In Guyville, and it's become one of my go-to albums ever since then. Sometimes I think this is the best debut album ever. It's certainly one of the top 5. Every song is written by Phair as a track by track response to the Stones' classic "Exile On Main Street". If the algorithm had any sense of humor, they'd recommend both albums consecutively to everyone. If listening on Spotify, make sure you listen to the remastered version with all 18 tracks available, as the link here goes to the old version where Spotify doesn't include some of the songs for whatever reason. Liz Phair would achieve more popular success after this landmark album, but never get back to this level of openness and rawness. A trailblazer like Liz Phair knew there's no way to top this masterpiece. If I could only keep 10 albums from this list, this would absolutely be one of them. Pour one out for the amazing Liz Phair. She'll fuck you and your minions, too.

Proud Mary aside, this isn't the Credence you're looking for. Besides, let's be honest, Ike and Tina Turner's version of "Proud Mary" absolutely destroys CCR's original. There's much better Credence to come. Aside from the two hits everyone knows and a decent cover of "Good Golly Miss Molly", there's not much here. Actual rating is 2.5. My first time getting into Credence outside of their hits.

Seventeen year old me chalks this up as an easy 5. And upon listening again, 51-year old me is pleased to agree with my younger self. Bono can get on my nerves pretty fast, but I have to think even his harshest critics have to give him props for a lot here, especially With Or Without You and my favorite track on the album, Running To Stand Still. This was the moment for U2 when everything fell together, and they finally reached an audience who somehow missed their landmark performance at Live Aid two years earlier. The three hit songs from this album are arguably the three most popular of the band's career. It's almost the definition of a quintessential album. It's worth listening to the 30th anniversary edition, as not only is the entire original album remastered, but you get a great concert from this album's tour in 1987. For anyone tired of "With Or Without You", go watch how it was used in the final episode of The Americans. It'll make you appreciate the song all over again. As much as I cherish The Joshua Tree, it's my third favorite U2 album. Quick research tells me the other two will be coming up on this list.....

They're BACK! I had my first Creedence album served to me here just two days ago (the disappointing Bayou Country), and this one, released just 8 months later, is miles better. It's the second of three albums CCR released in 1969 alone, which is insane. The title track is about as solid of an album opener as you'll ever hear, especially if you're longing for a place where bullfrogs call and kids play on rope swings. "Lodi" might be my favorite CCR song. Creedence Dudes swear by this album, probably because the deeper cuts hold up as well as the hits. The Spotify link took me to the 40th Anniversary edition, and I just assumed the two instrumental tracks after "The Night Time Is The Right Time" were part of the original album. They should have been because those 2 instrumental tracks slap. I like them more than most of the album cuts on Bayou Country. But that's me. Factoring in those 2 songs get this thing closer to 5 territory. Maybe without John Fogerty's vocals taking center stage, the instrumentals allow for the entire band to come in focus. Speaking of which, we need to discuss the album cover. It reminds me of those shirts for the band Stillwater in "Almost Famous" where Russell Hammond is prominently placed in front of the band to standout and overshadow them, causing the members to quarrel (particularly Hammond and lead singer Jeff Beebe) to the point where Hammond wanders off with teenage Rolling Stone reporter William Miller to a party somewhere in the Midwest where he can drop acid and scream Robert Plant quotes from the rooftop before jumping into a swimming pool. I hope the same thing happened with the Creedence fellas, but I'm guessing a pond was involved instead of a pool. Tom Fogerty, Stu Cook and and Doug Clifford likely had no idea they'd be included in this photo. They don't even have their instruments. It's like John was having his own photo taken for a solo album and they're just photo bombing him. No wonder they hated John so much. Maybe it was a Stillwateresque fight that inspired John Fogerty to write "Have You Ever Seen The Rain". John was (and is) such a control freak he doesn't even let anyone besides him provide backup vocals. I've got this album somewhere between 4 and 5, and a good background story about the album cover would put it over the top. I guess what I'm saying is a 5 rating ultimately comes due to the fact that the album cover reminds me of a fictional band from Cameron Crowe's best movie.

The title track is perhaps her best song, and has held up so well it's practically become Midge's signature song. The big news at the time was that Madonna was collaborating with one Prince Rogers Nelson on at least one song ("Love Song"). It turns out Prince is all over this album. The Purple One plays guitar on the title track, "Keep It Together" and "Act Of Contrition", something that's obvious listening almost 32 years later. The latter song basically sounds like a Prince outtake with Madonna reading the catholic version of the Act Of Contrition and ultimately getting angry at a computer. This is where it all came together for Madonna. I'm an unashamed Stan for Midge's "Like A Virgin" album, and with the buzz this album was generating at the time, I went out and bought on a little format called Compact Disc the week it was released. I remember that I didn't warm to it right away. By then the song "Like A Prayer" was already being played everywhere, something that would happen with "Express Yourself" and "Cherish" and even "Oh Father". You couldn't get away from those songs in 1989. So I never really gave the CD the chance it obviously deserved at the time. I had a similar situation with her "True Blue" album (those songs were such a part of the radio landscape that I didn't even bother buying the album). So this was an overdue opportunity to revisit it and marvel at Madonna right smack in the middle of her Imperial Phase. I still ride hard for "Like A Virgin" (maybe the version of Madonna love the most is the one we discovered when we were 15), but from an album standpoint, this is as good as it gets for our woman. Every track is a banger in it's own way. Prince had that sort of impact on anything he touched, and Madonna knew it better than anyone.

A foretaste of the feast to come. This album features the most obvious example of filler possible: the final song, which is basically just members of the band sitting around bullshitting about onions and French fries. "Help Me Rhonda" is one of my favorite Beach Boys songs, but the re-recorded version they released as a single is much better than the one here (and they even changed the punctuation on that one to "Help Me, Rhonda"). It's all fine. I wonder if giving it a 3 is being kind. The Beach Boys seem to get too much credit for moving away from writing songs about surfing. The album is pleasant enough, it's just not their NEXT album. I caught myself counting all the things that turned me off the album. That lesser version of Help Me Rhonda. The unnecessary exclamation point after Today in the album title. Mike Love. Murry Wilson. The fact that Murry doesn't have an "a" in his name like normal Murray's do. The fact that my impression of Murry Wilson is almost exclusively based on his portrayal in a horrible made for broadcast TV movie that Amazon Prime thinks I'd be interested in watching again. How I wish Glen Campbell would have been an official Beach Boy instead of Mike Love. Realizing the album's Wikipedia entry is too long. And are they wearing sweaters to tell the world they're done with surfing?But it was nice to hear Al Jardine and Dennis Wilson handle lead vocals on the three best songs on the album.

The "Vertigo" of Albums: Few cared about it when it was released, but many now consider it one of the greatest albums ever made. It's not on this album, but "Tupelo Honey" is possibly my all-time favorite song. At least it is on most days. There are hints of "Tupelo Honey" here. But his next album is really when he gets into Tupelo territory. Like Hitchcock's "Vertigo", I think this album has been overpraised to the point where it's a tad overrated. The real magic awaits on Van Morrison's follow up. There are three types of women in this world: Those who think "Brown Eyed Girl" is about them (this group has never heard of Astral Weeks); Those who only know Van Morrison's "hits" and are aware that "Brown Eyed Girl" was recorded and sung by Van when he was a member of the band Them (these women don't especially care for Brown Eyed Girl); and those who own Astral Weeks on vinyl. If a woman in the latter category invites you to her place, chances are she'll put this on and pour country club portions of red wine until one of you cries listening to young Van marvel at the way young lovers do. But there's a good chance you'll get laid before "Slim Slow Slider". So at least you have that going for you.

The algorithm must believe that I need another 1 rating to offset all the 5's I've been getting lately. The instrumental track was nice. So were some of the songs with the female vocalists. I was thisclose to bumping this up to a 2, but that album cover just annoys the shit out of me.

I'm more interested in the mixing of "Those Shoes" by the Eagles, The Band's "Up on Cripple Creek" and "Your Mama Don't Dance" by Loggins and Messina on a song named after a Clint Eastwood movie than I am any of the rapping. "High Plains Drifter" slaps without any vocals (so does the movie for that matter). This album is all about the beats, and the "vocals" just get in the way for me. I never listened to this album before today (I sort of burned myself out on the Beasties after Oding on License To Ill). What's amazing about this one is how it speaks to how seemingly easy it was back in 1989 to make an entire album using only samples of any song you wanted to use, including selected songs from Sgt. Freaking Pepper. For what it's worth, the Beasties also sample some of their own songs, which is almost too meta. There's no way anyone could make an album like this today, at least not without paying through the nose for usage rights. Love the album cover, which has become somewhat iconic with items like the Dwight Gooden Mets Jersey and Al Green album prominently on display.

I don't necessarily like the Blues, but I absolutely love this album. It's probably because nobody did the Blues like Muddy Waters. No one else has ever come particularly close. Deserves to be on this list for "Manish Boy" alone. This thing just slaps. The only issue I have, and this is really just nitpicking, is that none of the other 9 songs compare to the magic and joy of Manish Boy. But you could say that about almost any song.

Album number 99. For what it's worth, the Spotify link here takes you to a version of the album that's missing a track. I doubt that will matter in forming your opinion one way or the other. Me, I went and listened to that missing song. I like simple pleasures, like butter in my ass, lollipops in my mouth. That's just me. That's just something that I enjoy. The naked dude just chilling on the album cover isn't fooling that penguin or me for that matter. He's just a guy who stayed a little too long at an "Eyes Wide Shut" orgy and now refuses to take his mask off. There are parts of this album that would fit right in at one of those orgies as long as an actual penguin is involved. A good chunk of it sounds like it's trying to be weird just to be as Avant Garde as possible. But I'm guessing Stanley Kubrick loved this album. It made me think a little too much about Penguins and the actor's who portrayed the Penguin in Batman's world. My favorites are Burgess Meredith, the naked guy on the album cover, and I guess Danny DeVito. Honorable mention to former Dodger and Cub great Ron "The Penguin" Cey, who might have been the greatest Penguin of them all. Now that I think about it, that penguin looks like he's the one who stumbled into an orgy. My favorite song, that I think sums up the entire album, is called, "The Sound Of Someone You Love Who's Going Away and It Doesn't Matter". It's almost 12 minutes long, but that thing takes you on a JOURNEY. Ultimately you end up back to staring at that album cover, wishing you were at an outdoor orgy.

So this is my 100th album on this journey. One hundred down and still haven't had anything from The Beatles (or any of their solo work), Bowie, Springsteen, no Led Framing Zeppelin, no Marvin Gaye, or anything Neil Young appears on. I've only had one album from the infamous "Highest Rated Albums" list (Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" and that one is surprisingly too high, pun intended). On the other hand, I've already gone through all Pet Shop Boys albums (all of them are a 3). This isn't a criticism at all. I've given 16 albums a 5 rating, and many others received a 4. I got my third Brian Eno associated album yesterday, and I thought this album would be two Eno's in a row. But this one was after Eno got pissed and left the Roxy World. The opening track slaps, and then I started to miss Brian Eno. I doubt a song as wretched as "Bitter Sweet" would be here with his input. In fact, side 2 is some tough sledding. But there's more Roxy Music and A LOT more Brian Eno to come on this list. Actual rating is 2.5, but it's bumped up for the audacity of that album cover.

Lots of musical masturbation here. I've never been able to completely define why I dislike Santana's music, and listening to this didn't help much. Carlos Santana seems like a genuinely decent fella. He's engaging and charismatic in interviews. Maybe it's the curse of being subjected to "Smooth", a truly awful musical moment. I love Black Magic Woman - the ORIGINAL version, written and performed by Fleetwood Mac. Santana's version is the most well known, and it's fine, it just pales in comparison. Oye Come VA is the preferred track here This album doesn't annoy me enough to rate it a 1, but a 2 feels like an act of goodwill. You're better off seeking the Fleetwood Mac version of Black Magic Woman and a deeper dive into Pete Green's guitar work.

"4th Of July" by X is one of my all time favorite songs. I got into it after hearing it used at the end of an episode of The Sopranos. It's from the latter stage of X's career, and it's one of only a handful of their songs not written by John Doe and Exene Cervenka. There's really nothing here that resembles "4th of July" (but you should listen to it, 4th Of July is a 5). It's still a great listen. I don't necessarily side with all of the critics who seemingly fell all over themselves to over praise it back when it was initially released. But 1981 was a bizarre year all around.

If you drink seven shots of tequila while soaking in a hot tub, you begin to think this is Yacht Rock at some point during the first song. It's a 20 minute song, but you'll need those 20 minutes for the giant armadillo morph into a yacht. The yacht will include Robert Wagner, Christopher Walken and Natalie Wood as passengers, so you'll have the chance to rewrite history and save the beloved screen legend. You'll still wake up with a hangover, Natalie Wood will still be dead, but the upshot is you'll put what common folk call Prog Rock in your rearview mirror for the rest of your life. I bet Vincent Gallo loves this album but secretly wishes it was all instrumental.

I'd like to believe that the Coen Brother's "Inside Llewyn Davis" is based on this chap. This is literally just a dude and his acoustic guitar, but said dude can play! I hear a lot of The Beatles' "For You Blue" on the first song. I hope Bert at least had a cat hanging around the studio like Llewyn Davis would.

One of my all-time favorites, from start to finish. I bet Jack and Meg White looked at Karen and Richard Carpenter and said, "They have to be fucking with us. The Carpenters aren't really brother and sister. They're a twisted married couple! Genius!" If you look at some of the Carpenter's album covers, it's not such a stretch. And that's exactly what Jack and Meg decided to do. They put up a front of being brother and sister, when they were actually husband and wife. Jack would even take Meg's last name (presumably because Jack White sounded way cooler than Jack Gillis). Their marriage apparently ended in divorce 3 years before this release, but that didn't stop these crazy kids from keeping the whole brother/sister act going. Jack would continue to introduce his "big sister" Meg in concerts. Like Karen Carpenter, Meg was the drummer (but rarely sang, although she does have lead vocals here on “In The Cold, Cold Night”). And Jack oversaw all the musical arrangements in a Richard sort of way. But that's where any similarities to the Carpenters (real or pseudo) end. The Stripes slap, and slap in a big way. One can argue there's been no better recent purveyor of the Blues than Jack White. And his "sister" is the secret sauce. No one keeps the beat like Meg. "Elephant" was their big break through, perfectly blending elements of classic rock and the blues, and even taking a Hal David/Burt Bacharach oldie and making it their own. You already know the classic “Seven Nation Army”. And you’re probably familiar with “Ball and Biscuit” even if you haven’t seen "The Social Network". Even the deep cuts are bangers here. I'll take the "Seven Nation Army/Black Math/There's No Home for You Here" opening trifecta over almost any other album's first three songs. The Spotify link here took me to an older version of this classic that didn't have "Hypnotize" for some odd reason. Be sure to listen to the full album. It's on the short list of the best albums of the last 20 years.

If Joel Schumacher would have continued making campy Batman movies, one of Batman's villain's (probably Egg Head or King Tut) would play songs from this album to make all of Gotham City go insane. This is the perfect album to listen to when you desperately want to get a headache.

There ain't no Come On Eileen here. TIL there are THREE Dexy's albums on this list. Seems high. Granted, that's due to the fact that I'm in the United States where Dexy's Midnight Runners are considered a one hit wonder. The aforementioned "Come On Eileen" was their only hit to chart here. Granted, it was number 1 with a bullet during a very competitive time, but yeah. Surprised not only to see the band here (let alone, with two more albums). They sure like the horns on this one. Maybe a little too much. It could be that when it comes to Dexy's, I prefer the fiddle. Both "Geno" and "Seven Days Too Long" are bangers, and this album could have used a few more of those. As always, fewer horns/more fiddle!

The list of all-time best falsetto performers has to include the likes of Smokey Robinson, Barry Gibb, Prince and Philip Bailey. And Curtis Mayfield throws his hat in the ring here in a big way. We probably don't appreciate Curtis Mayfield enough. He's a two time inductee in the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame, fathered ten (!) children, and wrote "People Get Ready". This isn't his best album, and honestly it underwhelms. It's a bit too preachy for seductive purposes. There's a better representation of the Mayfield Magic yet to come on this list.

My favorite version of the Chili Peppers is the one where John Frusciante came back to the band after rehab (which starts with this album) and encouraged the band to lean in to the California Pop sound. I love it when the Chili's embrace the harmonies like the Eagles and Beach Boys would do. They do that on the better songs from this album, and really fine tune that element on their follow up album, "By The Way", which is my favorite RHCP album. I always waver between calling the band the Chili's and the Pepper's. They surely don't give a shit. But my wavering is somewhat fitting. Sometimes Kiedis goes all in with the harmonies, but other times he realizes he's got an epic bass player in Flea who just wants to funk out all over the place. And that's not a bad thing at all. There's great beauty in a song like "Porcelain" that sits just fine with Flea slapping that bass all over on "Around The World" and "Emit Remmus". I'll never understand why a song like "I Like Dirt" exists among these gems. Makes me wish Rick Rubin would have tightened up the number of songs a bit.

This is an album people play when they're trying a little too hard to make everyone think they're interesting. The only saving grace is there's a chance this album led to Paul Hardcastle's song "19". At least he made sure we'd forever remember the average age of the Vietnam soldier.

This is the sort of album Crosby, Stills and Nash thought they'd get when they asked Old Neil to join their super group. When David Crosby says Neil "is probably the most selfish person I know", this is what he means. Neil saves his best shit for his solo albums. He even doubles down on the background vocalists. It's not enough to have Crosby, Stills and Nash provide harmonies, so we get Linda Ronstadt and James Taylor on arguably the best songs on the album (your mileage may vary, but they're the two biggest hits). I love "Alabama" for the call and response it created with Lynyrd Skynyrd. "Harvest" easily belongs in the upper echelon of any ranking of the greatest country rock albums of all time.

Rock and Roll is old enough where you can argue for a legitimate Mount Rushmore consisting of the 4 most important figures in its history. Any Mount Rushmore that doesn't include Chuck Berry (you know, MARVIN'S cousin) and Elvis Presley can't be taken seriously. Those two are etched in stone (pun intended). The other two spots are up for the debate, and I'm not going to argue with anyone who puts Buddy Holly in one of those vacancies. Sometimes I feel like I can over praise Buddy Holly. That might stem from the fact that some generations only know the name from the title of a Weezer song. This album is missing some of my favorite Buddy Holly tunes, but I can't hold that against it.

I saw the word "atmospheric" as the first word to describe xx, and I immediately wanted to hate this album with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. The opening track (annoyingly enough titled "Intro") is an instrumental that sounds like wants to be the soundtrack for a Google Nest commercial, and I mean that as a complement. The second song, "VCR" was already a turn off for the song title alone (I wouldn't have minded "8-Track" or "Betamax" but "DVD" would have been even worse). And as I listened to "VCR", this fucking thing grew on me. A pleasant surprise. I couldn't even be disappointed that it shattered my earlier expectation of having "The xx" destined to be branded with a 1 rating. And as much as I seemed to enjoy listening, I really can't think of a time when I'll want to seek it out again. But that probably says more about me than it says about the album. I guess I'm just curious as to everything else that's out there. That's probably why all my friends call me Whiskers.

114 days and albums of this have made me realize that I don't particularly care for Roxy Music. Or rather, maybe it's Bryan Ferry who I don't like. I should have known right away when I learned how he spelled his first name. Never trust a Brian who insists on that Y instead of an I. They always make things more difficult. Bryan Ferry's vocal delivery really annoyed the shit out of me from the first song on here. On some songs, he almost sounds like he's imitating the Count from Sesame Street. Other times he's trying to find out if he can do an entire song with marbles in his mouth. You'd think having a Brian with standard spelling in Brian Eno would help balance things out. For years, I've always heard about how Roxy Music will get me laid, and the band needs to be in the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. One of those things eventually happened. Now that I've had something of a deep dive on Roxy Music, I'm genuinely unimpressed. Possibly one of the most overrated bands of my lifetime. This is a band that has great album covers, but even those can't cover up what's inside. My favorite song was a song from their "Flesh and Blood" album that Spotify played after this album ended. The lesson is Roxy Music has some bangers, but those deep cuts are ROUGH to listen to. Not for nothing, but worth mentioning: Morrissey loves this album.

Not the gateway album into the world if rap I was hoping for. I'm beginning to wonder if I can base my feelings on a person's rap career on the film and TV roles they choose. And my word, has Common been in some clunkers. By my definition, he's never been in a good movie. This is my first Common album, and I can already see a parallel to his film career. I hope I'm wrong. I'll get at one more taste of Common on this list. Maybe that will be my gateway drug.

You can make a solid argument that Robert Plant might be rock's all-time greatest front man. Just as you could Jimmy Page its greatest guitarist, John Paul Jones the best bass player, and John Bonham rock's greatest drummer. Zeppelin is the ultimate super group. This isn't my favorite Zeppelin album, but it's simply one of the best debut albums ever. "Good Times Bad Times" is as great of a side 1, track 1 you're going to hear. I have Led Zeppelin IV way ahead of this one, but what I keep coming back to is imagining what it must have been like to hear this for the first time in early 1969. I was lucky enough to live through the time when GNR's "Appetite For Destruction" and Nirvana's "Nevermind" seemingly came from out of nowhere to jolt the system. Those albums benefited from MTV exposure. It took a few months before this album cracked the Top 15. They didn't need MTV, and I'm quite certain they wouldn't have bothered with music videos anyway. But movies? That's another ball game.

"Find The River" is a song I want to be played at my funeral. And that's probably because "Try Not To Breathe" would be considered in bad taste by some (they'd be wrong, by the way). Although my close friends would understand and appreciate if I requested "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight" instead. For my money, "Find The River" is the definitive album closer. Especially for THIS album, with themes like mortality, suicide, aging, and Andy Kaufman. This is one of those albums that shaped me and got me through a few turbulent moments. I know every song like I do scenes from a favorite movie I've seen multiple times. It's Stipe, Berry, Buck and Mills at the peak of their powers. "Drive" is something of a response to the David Essex classic "Rock On" with incredible string arrangements by Led Zeppelin's John Paul Jones of all people. "Sidewinder" is a similar riff on "The Lion Sleeps Tonight. One of the most known songs," Everybody Hurts" is REM's "Bridge Over Troubled Water" and destined to be covered endlessly for generations to come. Stipe's moments of clarity and levity flow together seamlessly. The Mike Mills backup vocals standout even more than usual here, again underlying REM's secret weapon. This is one of those Desert Island albums. It's timeless. But it can still take me back to the Fall of 1992, the spring of 1998, or most of 2017. And it's far and away my favorite album of the 117 I've listened to so far on this list.

What a surprising joy. This went from a Knives Out album (one I expected to hate and dreaded having to listen) to a ton of fun in a hurry. 118 albums in and this one is my favorite rap album so far. It gave me a nice energy boost to start a Wednesday morning. Some of the lyrical content might be cringe worthy, but there's a goddamn warning label on the cover. We know what we signed up for.

Sounds like the official soundtrack to "The Elder", a movie that doesn't exist yet compelled Kiss to make a concept album about. This is meant to be a compliment. Or a way to suggest I'm glad this is on the list, I enjoyed listening to it, and then thought about the time Paul Stanley wore a purple headband.

This is like a Bob Ross painting without Bob Ross.

People seem to over praise this album simply because Kurt Cobain wrote it down on a list of his all time favorite albums back in 1993. Some believe that list helps explain Cobain's troubled genius (He also listed REM's "Green", which is probably REM's 10th best album). There's a school of thought that marks this album as the birth of grunge. That's entirely possible, but that doesn't mean it's the best of the genre. If you listen on Spotify, your reward comes after the album, as the algorithm offers up far better grunge songs.

Music writers fall over themselves to overpraise Joy Division and New Order, yet rarely do I find anything to reassess the Jesus and Mary Chain (although Sofia Coppola using "Just Like Honey" came close to igniting a Jesus and Mary Chain Renaissance). This album fulfills all the promises those overrated bands suggested. It sounds like the first time you ever fell in love. Of course, I'm a sucker for harmonies and power pop so I'm probably just as guilty of hyperbole as those New Order backers. This is one of those albums that can vary between a 4 and a 5 rating for me. The title track alone is a piece of pure bubble gum pop perfection.

An album so great, they never even tried to top it. "Beauty and the Beat" sounds like 1981, yet somehow timeless at the same time. "Our Lips Are Sealed" is a classic opener, letting all 5 members shine and setting you up for everything. And the rest of the album is full of absolute bangers. I'm surprised this didn't have at least 4 more monster singles. The Go-Go's would throw out a few more albums, even have some more hit singles, but their long overdue Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame election is because of this album. Truth be told, there's an argument suggesting Belinda Carlisle had a more successful career than the Go-Go's. I don't necessarily agree with that; Carlisle had more hit singles (including a number 1 in "Heave On Earth"), but I couldn't come up with a title of one of her solo albums to save my life. But this album is still as close to a perfect blend of new-wave meets power-pop as you'll ever hear.

You'd be forgiven for not realizing this is the main dude from the Pixies, when he went by the stage name Black Francis. Apparently this thing came out in May, 1994, but this is my first time ever hearing of it. In fact, my only familiarity with Black Francis/Frank Black's solo work is a great cover he did of The Beach Boys' "Hang On To Your Ego". There's a very good chance that if I had more than 24-hours to sit with this album, it would warrant a beloved 5 rating.

They've gone from a fun cult band to impossibly overrated. I guess one could call this an important album since it (allegedly) inspired a legion of future bands, especially Kiss, but that's because Gene Simmons saw The Dolls' look and decided his band should go even further with the face paint. The album is good, I don't have a problem with it being on this list. My opinion is probably clouded by the fact that lead singer David Johansen had a solo career as Buster Poindexter and an obnoxious hit song called, "Hot Hot Hot", a song I assume is on an endless repeat in Hell. I liked Johansen in "Scrooged" though. Worth mentioning: This is Morrissey's favorite album. Bonus points for what appears to be a Schlitz beer can and a pack of Lucky Strikes on the album cover.

This is better than a lot of "alternative" music that was released in 1992. It sounds like the album the Foo Fighters wish they could make. I'm sort of shocked that I'm only now learning about it. This is the sort of pure pop that's right in my wheelhouse. Expect a deeper dive into Bob Mould in my future.

Reminds me of my Grandpa John and Grandma Helen along with Linda Ronstadt partnering with the Nelson Riddle Orchestra. That's really just a sentimental way of saying the album made me want to start smoking cigarettes. If I'm being honest, there are other singers and interpreters from her era who have a greater impact on me. This isn't to discount Lady Ella's legendary status, and it could be a way of showing my Gen X colors, but I prefer Ronstadt's voice to Ella Fitzgerald's. And that lucky bastard Nelson Riddle worked with both of them. I didn't listen to the 3+ hour box set version of the album, but I don't think that would have affected my rating.

I've always been like Marvin in "Pulp Fiction" when it came to the great Blur vs. Oasis debate. Man, I don't even have an opinion. And then one day John Travolta accidently shot me in the face, and I've been opinionated ever since. They're both overrated, but Oasis wins major points for "Wonderwall" alone. "Wonderwall" is a stone cold classic. And after getting a few of their albums from this list, it's become clear that Blur doesn't have a song of that caliber in their catalog. The best thing about this album is that it doesn't have "Song 2", perhaps Blur's best known song that could be charming if it wasn't so annoying. And this album is just trying a little too hard to be interesting. I enjoyed the hidden instrumental track, and the Rod Stewart cover on the reissue wasn't horrible.

This is a first. I had to listen on YouTube since Spotify doesn't have the full album. That's who I am. I'm also a tender lover, but that's not really important right now. Here are my 5 favorite comments from various YouTube members for this album: 1. I used to hide my weed in this cassette. Good memories. 2. I'm 48 years old and I still play this really loud when I get pissed at my neighbors. 3. Drink vodka. Turn this shit up on max. Light the furniture on fire. Have a party! 4. Wtf even is this? I feel bad that someone even had to produce this. That's not music. 5. The album cover is the first known photo of Amazon's Alexa.

It was pretty much over for ABBA by 1981, and this album doesn't do anything to dispute that fact. They seem to just be going through the motions at times. The magic of "Dancing Queen" is but a memory. "One Of Us" is the only real standout here, and it just underlines the fact that both couples, along with the band, were no more.

Sounds like a Wes Anderson movie where the protagonist wears the same outfit everyday and is pining with unrequited love and unresolved sexual tension. So it basically sounds like any Wes Anderson movie. You really just want to see our hero get laid. Don't dig too deep into the biography of Nick Drake. He had more problems than a high school arithmetic book.

I'm all for anything that seeks to poke fun at the '90's Brit Pop movement. Some of it holds up nicely. Some of it screams, "We don't give a bloody fuck if we're big in America. America should come to us!" Not for nothing, but I'm nonplussed by the band's name.

First Bowie album (from this list anyway). By my count, Bowie has more albums on this list than anyone else (8 - seems high). My knowledge of this album basically boiled down to the iconic album cover, "The Jean Genie", and the cover of the Stones' "Let's Spend The Night Together". And frankly I wasn't 100% sure this was the album Jean Genie appeared on (part of me associates with the video for "Blue Jean", which is something the internet needs to make happen). Turns out that Rolling Stones' cover is the only song on this album I don't especially like. Eight is Enough/Too Many for The Thin White Duke on this list. The proper number is a debate for another day, but Aladdin Sane absolutely deserves a place here.

"El Paso" alone deserves a spot on this list. That rare country-pop crossover that's as timeless as ever. And every other song on this album sounds like it's trying to be another El Paso. That's meant as a complement. None of have the magic of "El Paso" but are enjoyable nonetheless. It took Breaking Bad and a video game to introduce Marty Robbins to new generations. My second favorite Marty Robbins song is, "You Gave Me A Mountain", but I prefer the hundreds of live versions Elvis did in the '70's during his final fat years.

When some obscure album from a once obscure artist shows up on the list, it has a backstory that reads something like, "initially panned upon release, only sold 5,000 copies, but everyone one of those people started a band." And often times one of those bands is R.E.M. If the endorsement is from Peter Buck or Mike Mills, I usually end up loving the album. A Michael Stipe shout-out is hit or miss. Apparently Bill Berry never went on record to rave about some forgotten gem. I can hear where R.E.M. got inspired by a lot on this album. Oddly enough, I kept thinking I'd like to hear all of these songs with Michael Stipe's Murmur/Reckoning Era vocals. Actual rating is 3.5, but my appreciation of the album cover isn't quite enough to curve up. I didn't listen to all of the seemingly endless bonus tracks Spotify threw at me. I'm not a monster.

At the time, I thought this was over praised in the wake of Kurt Cobain's death. And somehow in 2020, this album went from being previously ranked 467 to 106 on Rolling Stone's Top 500 Greatest Albums List. I always wondered how this would have been received had it been released during Cobain's life instead. I like a lot of Hole's songs, including many on their follow up album. I'm not in the camp that suggests Cobain wrote most of these songs. Rather, I'm sure Kurt likely influenced and inspired Courtney Love. What ultimately matters is this is a great album. Unfortunately, listening to it reminds me that it was released one week after Cobain's death. It also brings back memories of rumors about Cobain and Hole bassist Kristen Pfaff carrying on an affair, and Pfaff dying two months after this album's release. And then I end up going down rabbit holes suggesting Love's involvement in her husband's demise. That's one slippery slope. I'll just focus on the fact that Courtney Love had a pretty good run while she was interested in the music more than the fame.

It's only appropriate that you only listen to this or any Iggy Pop without wearing a shirt. I'm writing this without a shirt on. It's debatable at this point whether Iggy Pop even owns a shirt. He probably is excluded from having to wear a shirt anywhere at this point. I once saw him walk into a convenience store without wearing a shirt to buy a carton of Lucky Strikes, and no one said a word. I doubt Anthony Kiedis is afforded the same luxurious treatment. The Bowie influence on this is everywhere, which only makes sense considering he produced the album and co-wrote all but one of the songs. The other Iggy Pop album is the better one on this list. But this, his debut solo album, is worthy. "China Girl" is probably the most recognizable track here, due to Bowie having a huge hit with his version six years after this album was released. I like both versions, but Iggy's is best heard sans shirt.

"These Walls" reminds me of Prince's "If I Was Your Girlfriend" sonically for some reason. From a music standpoint, this album is a marvel. I love The Isley Brothers influence and hearing "That Lady" during "i". Bringing elements of The Isley Brothers, one of my all-time favorite groups, into this was a huge plus. But my God, this album is just a bit too long. I found myself wishing Kendrick would tighten up this thing to come in under an hour. Admittedly this genre is not in my wheelhouse, but this album brings me in better than most.

This is what I'd put on in the background of a neighborhood party to give people the impression I'm deep and interesting. Some will find it annoying and be reminded of the human torture scene from Indiana Jones & The Temple Of Doom. Those are the people who leave early and giveaway the fact they're not cut out for the Swingers Lifestyle. Everyone else grabs a random set of keys from the petri dish and goes home with a delightful stranger.

It's been almost 50 years and I'm sure it still bugs the shit out of Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons that their band's biggest hit was written and sung by the freaking drummer. It makes all the sense in the world since Peter Criss, with his Rod Stewart meets Joe Crocker voice, was often the band's best vocalist. Kiss was all about selling out and selling out hard, and after finally breaking through with "Alive", one of the all-time great live albums that is somehow missing from this list, they wanted a studio album that would be something resembling an artistic statement. So they brought in Producer Bob Ezrin, succumbed to his music boot camp, and let him mix in an orchestra and all sorts of sound effects. Somehow it all works. I love the theatrical vision of "Detroit Rock City" crashing right into "King Of The Night Time World". The anthems "Flaming Youth" and "Shout It Out Loud" have aged better than the overplayed "Rock & Roll All Nite". Hell, I even love the fanfare that somehow gets billed as a track of its own after "Do You Love Me", a song that benefits from Ezrin's studio trickery in a big way. My lone complaint is I wish there was a song where they turned the microphone over to Mr. Ace Frehley. But the Spaceman still wasn't comfortable enough to sing lead. It might be impossible for me to be completely objective about this album. We all bring our own baggage or backstory to some of these albums. This one was a huge part of my personal Flaming Youth. Destroyer and Alive were the first two albums I ever owned. I still have a certain attachment to both of them. On vinyl, the packaging and visuals really stood out in 1976. And I still listen to Destroyer regularly. Kiss never put a complete album together like this again for a multitude of reasons. The band may never go away (Stanley and Simmons clearly plan on finding replacements to wear their makeup so that Kiss will continue long after they're buried in their own Kiss Koffins). And Destroyer is also here to stay and set the world on fire.

I was expecting big things based on Ms. Jackson alone (Ms. Jackson is a 5). Maybe it was the unnecessary interludes. Maybe overall it was just too obnoxious. Or maybe it's because the God awful updated Rolling Stone 500 Greatest albums list has this baby at number sixty freaking four. Seems high. Which is something you might want to be while listening to this.

The Sugar Cubes were too early. But considering Björk apparently had a record deal when she was all of 11 years old, maybe they were right on time. This is the album No Doubt wished they could have made. And like Gwen Stefani, Björk was too big of a personality to just front some band. Bigger things like swan suits and Spike Jonze videos awaited her. They key track here is "Birthday", a song I listened to so many times that I'm sure my Spotify algorithm exploded.

Rundgren is so prolific and productive that you've got to kiss a lot of frogs to get to the gems. And my word, does he splash a lot of paint all over the place here. Rundgren does a Medley containing four of the greatest classic soul songs of all time and goes out of his way to make them all sound like shit. Apparently the joke is that no white man should ever cover these songs. Music history is littered with artists following up a masterpiece by veering completely off the road in a way to prove something. And Rundgren gives off the impression here that he's almost embarrassed for making the pop classics "Hello It's Me" and "I Saw The Light" from his previous album. There's a reason Todd Rundgren was so sought after throughout his career as a producer. His induction in the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame is long overdue. I just wish he'd not feel guilty about having musical chops and an ear for good pop songs.

There's a quote from fabled film director Howard Hawks about what makes a great movie: "Three great scenes, no bad scenes." That same rule applies to one's definition of a great album. But it has to check both boxes. Queen surely meets the "3 great songs" criteria here (You're My Best Friend, Bohemian Rhapsody and Death On Two Legs qualify, as does 39 on a good day). But imagine you're the drummer for Queen, and your band's frontman is Freddie Freaking Mercury. You decide to bring in a song you wrote for your band's make or break album, and it's titled "I'm In Love With My Car". You're so fond of this song that you insist it can only be sung by you. The drummer. Who can sell the song in a way the iconic Freddie Mercury just wouldn't understand. Your belief in this song is such that you go so far as to lock yourself inside a cabinet unless it not only makes the album, but it also has to be the B Side of the Bohemian Rhapsody single. As one does. There are 3 songs of which Mercury takes a back seat (although in the interest of full disclosure, I don't mind guitarist Brian May's vocals on the aforementioned "39"). But it's the bad songs that keep this album from the fabled 5 rating. Listen to this with a great set of headphones to really appreciate the finer moments. Even the auto enthusiasts can feel free to skip Roger Taylor's car song.

I'm tickled to see Biz Markie appear on this list. And "Sabotage" slaps so hard the song alone makes this album a worthy entrant on the list. Yes, sports fans, Sabotage is a 5. Similar to most rap/hip-hop albums I've come across on this list, this one is overall just a little too long. I certainly don't mind an album running long or taking it's time. But when you get to the 5th or 6th song and find yourself thinking it's running as long as a post-season extra-inning baseball game, that's what we in the business call a problem. That might be the one thing keeping this from 5 territory. Like "Sabotage", a good chunk of this album slaps. I'm impressed the Beasties pivoted from not being allowed to sample songs into something that is oftentimes majestic.

I only want to hear Leonard Cohen songs when they're Soundtracking a western starring Warren Beatty and Julie Christie, and even then I'm secretly wishing it was Cat Stevens scoring scenes of Beatty and Christie eluding bounty hunters. What I'm trying to say is I prefer McCabe & Mrs. Miller over Harold & Maude, and I'll take the whimsical Cat Stevens over Cohen and his minimalist poetry anytime. I do enjoy Judy Collins' version of "Suzanne", but that cover isn't on this album now, is it?

"Smoke On The Water" is the ubiquitous track here, and the only time I purposely listen to is while watching the Season 2, episode 1 episode of The Sopranos. There's a scene of Tony Soprano driving happily while hearing Smoke Of The Water on his car radio. But then T has a panic attack when the song starts to skip (the man did not appreciate having his music interrupted), which means he was listening to it on Compact Disc. I'd be inclined to suggest it was this album Tony was enjoying, but knowing the character, it was likely a Best Of Deep Purple CD. Of course, his panic attack causes him to pass out and crash his car. "Smoke On The Water" is right in Tony's wheelhouse. Dude loved him some early '70's classic rock, so much so that his wife Carmela chooses to play "Smoke On The Water" when a doctor suggests she play some of Tony's favorite music while he's in a coma in a latter season episode. If I came of age during the late '60's/early '70's like a young Anthony Soprano, I would have been all into some Deep Purple. Instead, I only knew of them from songs like "Hush" and the aforementioned "Smoke". This album pretty much slaps from start to finish. I never noticed the "Frank Zappa and The Mothers" line during "Smoke" before listening to this album (in my defense, the song skips for a crestfallen Tony right at that line, where all we hear is "Zap Zap Zap Zap Zap Zap"). After listening to this album, I find myself wanting to stand up and yell a Tony Soprano line from the end of one the series' final episodes: I get it!

Sometimes it sounds like St. Patrick's Day. Other times it sounds like a hangover, which I guess happens when you sing about sleeping off a binge in a drunk tank on Christmas Eve. But "Fairytale Of New York" is actually one of my favorite Christmas songs. Overall the album surprisingly never crosses the border from lubricated to morose, which isn't something I can say about the Dropkick Murphys.

More like Brian EMO, am I right? I like the song about excitedly running to tie someone's shoes and the one that inspired the Judd Nelson Brat Pack movie. Oddly enough, I don't care for many of the brief instrumental interludes a young Phil Collins plays on. As is the case with all things Eno, this is all about feel. And this feels right in the 2.5 wheelhouse. I still wish Eno covered "Man In Motion" from the St. Elmo's Fire film.

Might have the best four opening tracks from any album I've listened to so far from this list. Hell, the first two songs alone warrant tagging this thing with a 5. The four opening songs set the mood and flow perfectly into the next one. And then Prince wants to find out who really wants to party. Prince throws the gauntlet down to find out who's down for tantric sex, who's interested in what his idea of an orgy looks like. And even if you come along for the ride only to discover some of it isn't your cup of tea, you'll still end up masturbating in ways you never thought of before. No recording artist understood sex the way Prince did, or at least understood that his audience thought about screwing as much he did. But screwing is the wrong word. It was never just about screwing with Prince. His two previous albums might be better than this one. But Prince understood all that mattered was if the critics loved you in New York.

A reasonable description of the Screaming Trees would be to suggest they're the Eagles of Grunge. As an unabashed Eagles fan, I mean that as a compliment. It might explain why the music press didn't fall over themselves to give Screaming Trees the praise they provided the Nirvanas or Pearl Jams or even Soundgardens of the day. Or maybe it was because this band's vice of choice seemed to be booze instead of some of the hard drugs other grunge bands preferred. Whatever the reason, unlike the wildly successful Eagles, the Screaming Trees just never completely broke through in a way I thought they surely would after hearing them on the "Singles" soundtrack. Maybe their music was just too accessible for the grunge crowd to embrace. Ultimately the music is all that matters. This still holds up quite well - it's not nearly as dated as a lot of grunge from the Era - and deserves reappraisal. One should dock this a point for the horrible album cover, but acquiesce upon remembering the fictional grunge band Matt Dillon fronted in "Singles" called Citizen Dick.

Early De La Soul Sighting! This album compelled me to listen to some early De La Soul, which then somehow took me on a Soul II Soul dive. So I guess it has that going for it. That's just a long way of saying I prefer to Soul II Soul to Queen Latifah. You could say Queen Latifah is a better actress than she is a rapper and you wouldn't be wrong. It's perfectly OK to not like this album.

Fagan promised me 90 minutes from New York to Paris, and I've never quite forgiven him. My main feeling is disappointment, since I've always heard such amazing things about Fagan's solo debut (something about it being an audiophile's wet dream), and I'm a Steely Dan Stan (I may give as many as 3 of their albums 5's when they show up here). A suitable comparison would involve the solo output from Paul McCartney and John Lennon. Some of it's good, but it sure as hell isn't the Beatles. There are echoes of the Dan here, but it veers more in the dreaded Yacht Rock direction Steely Dan avoided for the most part. This leans a little too much in the Christopher Cross direction for my taste. It turns out Donald Fagan needed Walter Becker, because this thing for the most part is a snooze.

Listen: Aside from a pretty decent cover of a Karen Carpenter song, Sonic Youth was a huge blind spot for me until this "project". I basically knew them as a band Kurt Cobain and Jason Bateman's character from "Juno" liked. I'm only two albums in so far, but it's safe to say I'm completely all in on Sonic Youth now. This is the album where they nudge right up to that finish line that indicates the sound they'd perfect and inspire future and wannabe musicians for years to come. That special sound is an album away. But this still comes dangerously close. It's like licking your finger and then holding it up in the air to see which way the wind is blowing. Gordon and Moore were headed in the right direction here. This is the foretaste of the feast to come.

"Rikki Don't Lose That Number" is a masterpiece. Borrowing the baseline from Horace Silver's "Song For My Father" will do that for a song. Future Eagle Timothy B. Schmitt provides backup vocals on "Rikki" along with 2 other songs here. Quick aside: If you wanted a hit song sometime between 1974 and 1983, your best course of action would be to try and get Schmitt to provide harmony. And those 3 tracks alone are worth a 5 rating. My favorite Steely Dan album will always be "Can't Buy A Thrill" for many reasons. But this might be their best album. It's such a flawless infusion of jazz with pop hooks. And Fagan's voice fits this blend like a glove. This deserves a spot in the upper echelon of the list. But what do I know? I just read the Daily News and swear by every word!

Oh how I wanted to hate this album. I wanted to use this space to go on about how overrated Tim Buckley is. About how music journalists of the day believed Tim Buckley should have had the career Jackson Browne enjoyed (Well, Jackson Browne didn't die from a heroin overdose when he was only 28 years old, so there's one reason). About how 3 Tim Buckley albums are too many for this list, especially considering there are NO Jackson Browne albums. But goddamn if this hippie didn't put some gems on this album. Especially Pleasant Street, and the heartbreaking closing song, Morning Glory. I've come around to believing Tim Buckley deserves a spot on this list (ahem, but not 3 spots, seems high). And this is the album that represents his value.

What an absolute joy. After the first 11 songs, I found myself thinking this was a candidate for the most surprising 5 on this list. But it turns out, the issue was there were still 10 more songs to go. This is probably just nit-picking, and we should probably evaluate double albums differently anyway. It just went a little too long. A few tracks reminded me of the theme song to "Chico and The Man", which is a compliment. There's elation to be found all over this album. This was made some 15 years before Paul Simon raped and pillaged from the genre to make Graceland. And somehow this sounds fresher and more alive.

The first song sounds like a third rate Buster Poindexter. After suffering through that one, each song just kept getting better. There's a 5 star album in here somewhere (my word, this did NOT need to be a double album). Tighten up that setlist a bit Nick and you'll have an album that borders on classic territory.

I prefer both of the Sam Cooke live albums that were released around the same time (both of which are all-time, slam-dunk 5's). Make no mistake, this is a great live album. It's an incredible time capsule that literally takes the listener to the Apollo in 1963, where you hear some female fans shriek like those in Ed Sullivan's audience when The Beatles performed. For my money, Sam Cooke took the Hardest Working Man In Show Business to school as far as live albums are concerned. Bonus points for making me daydream about Eddie Murphy's "Too hot for the hot tub" Saturday Night Live sketch.

Bravo. I'll take this over the Tim Buckley's and Nick Drake's of the vastly overrated cult sect. And unlike Leonard Cohen, I find Scott Walker's voice oftentimes majestic. Walker seemed to be as genuinely fucked up and averse to fame as Buckley and Drake, but he outlived those fuckers by a long shot, dying in 2019 at the age of 76. I suppose that's a blessing: Walker was spared being around for the Covid Pandemic. I can't imagine how depressed that would have made him (just listen to "It's Raining Today" from his previous album to hear how distraught he'd get over the weather; this dude didn't feel the same elation about rain as Eddie Rabbit did). His songs aren't as depressing here, although I actually enjoy the songs where Walker leans into his melancholy side. I have a sneaky suspicion we'll have a Scott Walker Renaissance in the near future.

Perfect for when you want to feel what it was like to try on jeans at the Gap or Banana Republic in the late '90's.

Makes me want to go out and buy rubbers.

Gets too much attention simply because Leonard Cohen died shortly after this was released. That doesn't automatically mean this is good! Maybe Cohen and Tom Waits can get together at the after party and determine who had the more annoying, gravelly voice (it's no surprise that my favorite song is the instrumental closer). The only thing I want darker is my coffee. And my men.

I'm pretty sure Pablo Picasso was an asshole. Sounds like someone doing karaoke to The Doors. It's worth noting the talented keyboardist and drummer took their talents to more successful outfits. Jonathan Richman might have knelt at the altar of Lou Reed, but he's the poor person's Lou Reed. "Roadrunner" is a great song, but not the version that opens this album (the Sex Pistols cover is what makes it a classic). Richman should stick to making pizza ovens. The more I think about this album, the more it bothers me because it's not bad, per se. But it's so impossibly overrated, and it just sort of loiters and eventually gnaws.

NEW BLOOD! Let's start here: I truly believe it's a great idea that new albums are added to this list every few years. Hell, I'm up for anything that will remove some of the far-too-many Tom Waits and Leonard Cohen albums that populate the list. My concern is that the additions are only chosen among recent releases. They never go back and reassess some previously released albums that missed the cut originally; albums that have held up or been given a second life in later years. And yes, I'm still beating the drum for getting the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack, and a Bob Seger or Jackson Browne album on this list. The other concern about adding only the recent albums could fall under the "Can't see the forest from the trees" argument. The most glaring example of this is Taylor Swift's "Evermore" being included over "Folklore" with these new additions. It's not a stretch to say that Folklore is widely considered the better of the two Swift albums released in 2020. In fact, Evermore was almost an afterthought. It's a great album, but it almost feels like a bonus album of songs that missed the cut from being included on Folklore. I mean, Folklore won the Album of the Year Grammy for crying out loud, a distinction which along deserves at least consideration on this list. Which brings us to the album in question by Michael Kiwanuka, an artist I hate to admit I knew nothing about until today. And Good Lord is this a great fucking album. It's a well deserved new entry on the list. But I'm already hearing things like, "Yes, it's remarkable, but the album he did before it called 'Love & Hate' is the true masterpiece." And true to form, Spotify played me Kiwanuka's most popular track when this album ended ("Cold Little Heart", which gained notoriety for being the theme song of that HBO series "Big Little Lies" that was only worth watching for Laura Dern embracing her batshit crazy side). I hear a lot of Stevie Wonder here, along with some Bill Withers and Leon Bridges. Unfortunately, there's just a little too much Danger Mouse. Kiwanuka doesn't need that kind of karma. I'll be spending more time in Michael Kiwanuka's world. Not even Danger Mouse can keep me away.

I like simple pleasures, like butter in my ass, lollipops in my mouth. That's just me. That's just something that I enjoy. And I like my CeeLo Green with Gnarls Barkley. Here, he sounds like he wants to be the late Biz Markie, Morris Day of The Time, or a poor man's Al Green. Props for realizing his voice gets annoying pretty fast, I guess? Not even Pharrell Williams helping out on a few tracks is enough to disguise this album's flaws.

I'd like to believe they went with "The Slits" as their band's name because "Gash Wound" would have been too on the nose. For review purposes, one has to include the incredible cover of "I Heard It Through The Grapevine", which is officially listed as a Bonus Track and was the B-Side to "Typical Girls" (Both songs are classic 5's). It puts the album over the top for me. Make that your Side 1, Track 1 and you've got a classic album. One could add one point for the audacious album cover photo, only to learn the girl on the far left was all of 17-years old in said photo so let's call that a wash. What else? Their original drummer's name was Palmolive, who felt that posing topless for the album's cover was a bridge too far and got thrown out of the band. Apparently none other than the great Nenah Cherry provides backup vocals on this album. According to my math, Nenah would have been 15 or 16 years young at the time, which is just insane. This album is a blast.

You're in for a real treat if you enjoy bleeding from your ears.

Jingle Jangle. I prefer their version of Mr. Tambourine Man over Dylan's, but I've always been a sucker for harmonies. This album influenced seemingly thousands of bands and artists, ironically none more so than Dylan himself. Dylan went electric soon after, and I have to think hearing the Byrds take of his song (the first Dylan penned song to reach Number 1) had a lot to do with that.

1994 was an amazing year. At a Halloween party that year, I hooked up with a beautiful Asian woman dressed as a cat (she could have been any nationality now that I think about it, and was dressed as an Asian cat - anything was possible in '94). I was dressed up as The Joker. Jack Nicholson's Joker in Tim Burton's Batman to be precise. She and I left the party to go to her place and fool around. Before things got too deep, she paused and said, "Now go into the bathroom and take off your makeup. I want to see what the real Joker looks like." We'd been making out a while, and she had some of my Joker makeup on her face so it was hard for me to take her seriously. I told her this was my true appearance. Apparently, I was quite protective of my secret identity back in those days. We all were. I went down on her as the Joker instead. That's who I am. I'm a giver. That's as far as we got. Joker Brand Products didn't include Joker Brand Condoms in '94. If they existed, they'd surely be purple and shaped like a smiley face. I still think about that little minx a lot. We probably could have built a wonderful life together. 1994 was also the year Jackie Kennedy, Kurt Cobain, and Nicole Brown Simpson died. It was the year when the baseball strike cancelled the World Series, and this album was released. So it wasn't all hooking up with Saucy Asian Felines, even though it felt like it was. I also met my future wife a week after that Halloween party. We were married for 9 years until she divorced my ass, but have two wonderful children together who continue to amaze, inspire and fill me with joy everyday. What I'm saying is a lot of good things came out of 1994, but this album certainly wasn't one of them. Thankfully it wasn't on my radar in '94. In fact, I didn't have to suffer listening to any of this until today. But life's funny like that. Maybe I went to that Halloween party because there was no World Series. If the Joker had more than one night with that Asian Cat Lady, I would have never met my (first) wife, would never have experienced the joy of my children. Which reminds me: on our first date, my wife and I went to the movies. I wanted to see Pulp Fiction, but went the safe route and chose Forest Gump. And I bet if we saw Pulp Fiction that night, we'd still be married. That Asian Cat Lady would have LOVED Pulp Fiction as much as I still do. Maybe if this album was playing at her apartment after that Halloween party, I would have gladly washed off my Joker makeup. Maybe we would have had unprotected sex. Anything to drown out this album.

The album cover alone just bugs the shit out of me. It has to be the leader in the clubhouse for worst album cover on the list. Mr. Auerbach, I served with Jack White. I knew Jack White. Jack White was a friend of mine. Mr. Auerbach, you're no Jack White.

Now this is more like it. Dummy has to be the Sgt. Pepper or Nevermind of Trip Hop albums. Proof that when everything comes together with just the right mix, the genre is listenable if not magical. I'm hoping when I go on my Björk run I'll learn this genre doesn't have to be so goddamn depressing. The vocals of one Beth Gibbons set this thing through the roof. Hers is the voice you want singing sad song lyrics. Your key tracks here are Sour Times and Glory Box. Both remain ubiquitous because there's nothing else quite like them.

I'll never understand why Freddie Mercury doesn't sing lead on every Queen song. For some reason, Brian May and Roger Taylor insisted on handling lead vocals on several songs. I mean, you've got FREDDIE FUCKING MERCURY right there. Let him wail! It's not like we were subjected to John Paul Jones or John Bonham singing lead on some deep Zeppelin cuts (although now that I think about it, I would have been all in on any song with Bonzo tackling lead vocals). This album doesn't sound like Queen. It sounds like watered down Mott The Hoople with some Led Zeppelin influence. Overall, it just doesn't work. Everything I'd heard about this album suggested it was Queen's hard-rock album. A pretty limp one if that's the case. One good song (Seven Seas Of Rhye), and even that one sounds half baked. I enjoyed the instrumental opening track, which could have been the only thing keeping this from a 1 rating (in the interest of full disclosure, I was listening with a great set of headphones where it really stood out). But this album has no business being on the list. Queen alone has at least 4 better albums.

No Jimmy Page or Eric Clapton on this album, which is fine considering I always think of The Yardbirds as Jeff Beck's band. To compare the 3 guitar legends, it's best to liken them to the 3 greatest home run hitters in Major League Baseball history. Jimmy Page is Babe Ruth, forever deified with legendary riffs and solos. Clapton is Barry Bonds. He puts up great numbers, but he's such an asshole that it demeans his accomplishments. And Jeff Beck is Hank Aaron, the steady, consistent great who's never as flashy as Page or Clapton but overall stakes a legitimate claim as perhaps the best ever. I guess that would then make Jimi Hendrix Willie Mays (best all around player), and Eddie Van Halen is Mickey Mantle (mythical talent that was taken too soon by alcohol abuse). I could go on but we're talking about the Yardbirds here. This album is a joy. It dances with seemingly every genre available at the time, and has a sort of magic that makes it sound like it's right out of 1966 and like it could have been produced yesterday. I even ride for the bonus coverage you get with alternate versions here (especially "I Can't Make Your Way"). Right there in the 4.5 category, but "Over Under Sideways Down" is reason enough to curve up.

It's run the gamut from cult classic to basically being the most overrated underrated album of all time. I for one am all in favor of songs that capture the excitement in searching for heroin (Waiting For The Man) and describe the experience of using heroin (Heroin). This album lets you have the entire heroin experience, including addiction and withdrawal, and you come away with no desire to try the drug. You feel like you've already gone through the entire experience. There's a sort of magic in that. Bands with female drummers are always among my favorites (The White Stripes, The Carpenters). Not especially hot take: I wish Nico sang every song except for Heroin and I'm Waiting For The Man.

Finally mother fuckers. History will eventually come around to realize this or "Here, My Dear" is Marvin's best album. The fact that he was able to take his unprecedented daddy issues and turn them into a joyful document encouraging the world to enjoy sex is something of a marvel. Marvin Gaye was so exceptional he even did all of his own background vocals here.

You can't trust anything that comes out of Iowa.

I'd like to say "Teenage Head is awesome" and leave it at that, but some people might mistake that review for R. Kelly's life motto.

I've never wanted to hate something as bad as I wanted to hate this album. I wanted to hate it so badly that I almost refused to even listen to it. It wasn't just because of that infernal album cover. As if that wasn't enough, all of the songs are titled in all lowercase letters. It all made me want to hate it with the white hot intensity of 1,000 Suns. I was all loaded up with thoughtful zingers like "Bad U2 cover band" and "The Talking Heads without David Byrne". And wouldn't you know it: This damn album became Green Eggs and Ham. It grabbed me from the first song and seemingly never let go...Until they ended with a monotonous 12 minute song that basically destroyed all the goodwill the previous 9 songs had built. You couldn't fool me, LCD Soundsystem. Go sell synth-pop somewhere else. We're all stocked up here.

The first thing you need to know about this album is that these songs are basically DEMOS. And many songs from the same demo session eventually became full fledged E Street Band songs on "Born In The USA" two years later. So there's no Big Man or Silvio Dante here. Just The Boss, his harmonica and acoustic guitar. And it all works in terms of creating what it feels like to be on some back road in desolate, Western Nebraska (as someone who was born in raised in Nebraska, I'm a little too familiar with these trips). State Trooper, Reason To Believe, Mansion On The Hill and Johnny 99 belong on any Best Of The Boss list. This album isn't always my go-to-Springsteen (I prefer the energy and enthusiasm the E Street Band brings out of him). Fun, somewhat related, fact: When I was in college, my roommate and I went to Wyuka Cemetery in Lincoln, Nebraska just to literally take a piss all over Charles Starkweather's grave. It's an experience I recommend highly. I'm sure The Boss would be proud.

What do people want from Morrissey? All he's really guilty of is being a curmudgeon. He's always gone out of his way to say inflammatory things to the press, only to contradict himself in later interviews. But people seem to take Morrissey's shit so seriously. The homo-erotic sect suggests he's in the closet, and ashamed to admit his sexuality. Apparently, the dude simply hates sex. But he certainly loves animals (Morrissey was the first and still only artist to successfully prohibit McDonald's from selling food during one of his concerts in California, something not even famed vegetarian Paul McCartney could pull off). We can all agree that Morrissey probably isn't the most pleasant person to hang out with, which is something you could say about most of the artists who appear on this list. Yet people who've likely never met Morrissey hold some insane personal grudge against him to the point where they write off his music. I'm talking about people who cut their teeth listening to The Smiths, who suddenly read some "shocking" quote Morrissey off-handedly gave to a music writer and it completely changes their mindset. And the thing of it is, Morrissey has been doing this shit his entire life! If you're upset at something Morrissey said or did recently, just give it a few minutes. He'll change completely and move on to something else. He's the British Neil Young, and overall his musical catalog is on par with Ol' Neil. This is possibly The Great White Mope's best solo album, although I can't say that with certainty since I have yet to listen to all of them. This was one I owned on Compact Disc when it was first released, so I was already familiar with it. Not surprisingly, it holds up better than most of the CD's I bought in 1992. I don't want to be friends with Morrissey, but I do enjoy a lot of his music.

The reason this band only ever achieved middling success is because they're not very good. So how the hell they have two albums on this list is beyond me. They always try a little too hard to be weird for the sake of being weird. And here, they're trying to be Radiohead and failing miserably. Also: Leave Cat Stevens alone!

I'm a sucker for the chanteuse who can make covering any song sound so easy. This album is but a foretaste of the feast to come regarding Dusty. But overall this one still grabs me, even if no one can really agree on song sequencing or even which songs appear on which version (American or British). The first time I ever heard of Dusty Springfield was when the Pet Shop Boys song, "What Have I Done To Deserve This" came on the car radio, and one of my high school friends said, "Ooh! Dusty!" and turned up the radio. I'm still not completely convinced he had any idea who Dusty Springfield was. Or the Pet Shop Boys for that matter.

Turns out I prefer my rappers who have a British accent. This album's somewhat of a blast. Like most rap albums, it's probably 3 songs too long. But that probably says more about me than it does the album, since rap is a tough genre for me.

A soundtrack to a movie that was never made, which is a win for modern day society since it sounds like a movie no one in their right mind would want to watch.

John Lee Hooker is forever Aces in my book for his appearance in The Blues Brothers alone. I can't help but think this isn't the John Lee Hooker album that should be on the list to represent his greatness. He's a bit overshadowed here by the likes of Bonnie Raitt (who was experiencing something of a career renaissance at the time) and George Thorogood. And he's not doing himself any favors hanging out with Carlos Santana. But you've got to have some Hooker on this list. I just wish the album had "Boom Boom".

This sounds like Paul Simon was fighting the urge to not make a Schoolhouse Rock album. For all of his strengths as a songwriter, Paul's music suffers without Artie.

Quite enjoyable, but a little too preachy at times. I mean, "Television, the Drug of the Nation" has not exactly aged well. That would have fallen on deaf ears during the lockdown. I can't imagine how these dudes feel about smartphones. It's still better than most rap albums I've heard so far from this list. But like seemingly all rap albums, it's a little long. Is there some rule that every rap album needs to be over an hour in length?

This is what the algorithm offered up on Thanksgiving. It compelled me to search out Black Friday deals (my favorites are a Google Chromecast stick for $19.99 and a subscription to The Athletic for $1 a month for a year). I'll probably jump on both offers just to spite this album. A freaking DOUBLE ALBUM no less. Look, I can appreciate the album cover as much as the next guy. I also understand one's appreciation of this improves based on the copious amounts of medicinal hallucinogens at one's dispensal. But whatever your mileage, this is on the shortlist of albums that absolutely need to come off the list. No one needs to hear this album.

There's a midget standing tall (to quote a line from the title song, I'm not comfortable enough quoting anything from track two). The essential track is the ubiquitous classic "Everyday People", an earworm so perfect that if the album was nothing else by Sly Stone whittling, it'd still belong on the list. Great all around if not quite close to classic status, which happens after they storm through Woodstock.

The bridge to their two greatest albums. I'll never not be utterly fascinated by Meg White. Apparently she started drumming on a whim, yet ended up thundering at times like she's the second coming of John Freaking Bonham. And this is band (fine, duo) without a bassist. I'll always be interested in anything Jack White does for the rest of his musical life, but there's already strong evidence Meg White brought out his best work. Plus her background vocals are always the perfect amount of spice. If you're like me and initially had this somewhere between a 4 and 5, give it the old "3 great songs, no bad songs" test. An apt comparison would be to call this the Stripes' Rubber Soul and Elephant is their Revolver.

At first I thought this was fine. Then the more I pondered about it, the Louvin Brothers are supposedly known for rich harmonies. Really? Compared to the likes of the Byrds, the Eagles, the Beach Boys, Crosby, Stills & Nash, the Flying Burrito Brothers, Everly Brothers, Simon & Garfunkel and, oh yeah, the freaking Beatles, I think we've got rich harmonies covered better on this list. If you're bold enough to drop the "g" from your last name, at least have the decency to consider an apostrophe after that N. Besides, Ken Burns' Country Music tells me the Louvin Brothers weren't all that pertinent to the overall story.

Have you ever bothered listening to the original studio version of "I Want You To Want Me"? It's completely different than the one on this album, which thankfully for all of our sakes became the gold standard. But that original version shot all the way to number one in Japan (it didn't even chart in America) and was the reason for this album's existence. But again, it's awful, capturing none of the magic that's evident on the live version that became a classic rock staple. The live version is such an improvement on the studio version that it was released as a single in America and immediately became Cheap Trick's biggest hit, peaking at #7 on the Billboard Hot 100. That shit seemingly happened all the time in the '70's (see: Kiss with "Rock & Roll All Nite", Peter Frampton and a number of his songs). Apparently the studio just stifled too many bands back then. Or maybe the old saying is true: Recording in the studio is masturbation, and playing live is having sex. Of course now "I Want You To Want Me" has become so ubiquitous to the point where I never want to hear it again. But "Surrender", on the other hand, is a jam I can't get enough of. The live version here is similar to the studio version that was released around the same time. "Surrender" is a piece of power pop perfection no matter how you slice it (although I prefer the studio version over the live one, but maybe that's because the Budokan crowd didn't sound very excited at the thought of Robin Zander's parents making out with Kiss records on the turntable). I can't help but be disappointed that Tim Burton didn't use "Big Eyes" as the theme song for his movie of the same name. A montage of Christoph Waltz selling paintings of people with big eyes to the sounds of Cheap Trick sounds like a missed opportunity if there ever was one.

My familiarity with the Wu-Tang Clan is limited exclusively to their appearances and association with prestige HBO programming. First they appeared on "The Larry Sanders Show", where a befuddled Hank Kingsley (played to perfection by Jeffrey Tambor) tells the band his favorite song is "Shame On A Nigga". The second moment came on an episode of "The Leftovers" where Nora Durst (in a star-making performance by Carrie Coon) covered up the names of her departed children she had tattooed on her arm with the Wu-Tang Clan logo. Only she referred to them as "the Wu-Tang Band". That episode also made me familiar with the Wu-Tang name generator, which reminds me that I should really start Romanticist Visual as my pen name. If that doesn't scream "Middle Aged White Male", I don't know what does. And this middle aged white male known forever as Romanticist Visual quite enjoyed this album by the Wu-Tang Band. Lower your expectations. It's a fine mess. The Wu got somethin'.

Boy did they pick the wrong Suzanne Vega album for this list. They couldn't have picked the one with "Tom's Diner" and the song about child abuse (Luka) instead? That's where Vega truly shines. This one's alright, but she mainly comes across as a stifled Lou Reed wannabe. Overall it's nice to listen to, and a short listen at that. Interesting that I loved the Suzanne Vega song from her 5th album that Spotify played after this album ended more than any song on this, her debut album.

Emmylou Harris is somehow an underrated country legend. When it's all said and done, she'll forever be on the Mount Rushmore of female country artists, along with Loretta Lynne, Tammy Wynette, and Dolly Parton. None of those country legends have a voice like Emmylou Harris. And the puzzling thing is that it seemingly took years for Nashville to truly embrace her. She'd consistently put out album after album, all of them great, but the early knock on Emmylou was that she never wrote her own songs. This, her debut country album, is mainly covers, including one from the aforementioned Dolly and even a deep cut from The Beatles. But the real gem from this album is the one song Emmylou wrote, and it became her signature song. "Boulder To Birmingham" is one of the greatest sad songs ever put on record, and it wrecks me every time I hear it. Just listen to the words of "Boulder To Birmingham". You feel the pain and sorrow she has over losing her mentor Gram Parsons. She can't understand why he's gone, and more importantly, she can't fathom why no one else feels like she does over his death. Emmylou's tastes were clearly too eclectic and ahead of her time for Nashville (and there may have been some hesitancy to fully embrace her because of her previous association with Parsons, another vanguard in their opinion). But Emmylou focused on keeping the spirit of Gram Parsons alive. She'd solidify her legacy (and write many more great songs) on future albums, but this one clearly puts her on the map. Props for getting former Eagle and Flying Burrito Brother Bernie Leadon, along with many other musicians in Parsons' orbit, to play on this gem of an album. To my ears, Emmylou is the true First Lady of Country Music.

They don't call Stan Getz "The Sound" for nothing. This is the epitome of the background music I want to hear playing in a good dive bar.

If Yanni and Kenny G had a baby, that baby would grow up to make music like this, have sex with Linda Evans and be a surprisingly decent golfer.

Sounds like a compact disc from a '90's cover band that they sold during their gigs for 5 bucks.

Bill Evans died in 1980 when he was just 51 years old. This seems impossible considering that he appears to be at least 70 years old on the cover of this 1961 album. So it was a hard 51 for Evans, and that's before you learn about his intense addictions to both heroin and coke. I'm 51 years old as I write this sentence while listening to this classic album. I've now listened to 199 albums from a subjective list, the majority of which Bill Evans never got to hear. And guess what else, Bill? I still have plenty of time to get hooked on heroin and cocaine. I'm chalking that up as a win.

Even if you're not a big fan of the kazoo, these fuckers have you covered with panpipes and harpsichords. The big rumor is apparently Robert Plant once went on record suggesting Zeppelin wanted their first album to sound like this. Thankfully, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones and John Bonham didn't agree. Two hundred albums in, and already I have an easy candidate for the worst album on the list. And frankly, it's not even close. To paraphrase the late Roger Ebert, I HATED this album. Hated, hated, hated, hated, hated the this album.

The thing I love the most about Missy Elliott is that she's all in on her music career. Seemingly every other star who achieved success in her genre has at least tried to pivot into acting. But not Missy Elliott. She may eventually become the Joni Mitchell of rap and hip hop before all is said and done. Hell, she probably already is! I hear some Lauryn Hill here, along with some Prince and maybe even some Nenah Cherry. Overall, I found this to be a delight.

I listened to this multiple times to just to make sure I hadn't lost my sense of smell and still enjoyed it as much as I initially thought I did. It seems that those who have any issues with this album are simply bent out of shape due to the fact that Moby licensed EVERY song from this album for commercials or television shows or any other medium that would turn a profit for him. The story goes Moby did so because this album was met with such a thud upon initial release, and he needed some way to promote the album and you know, make a living. There are at least six songs here that are absolute bangers. But Moby's naysayers nitpick and suggest he was nothing but a curator, collecting samples from his favorite sources. If I'm interested in hearing how the sausage was made, it's usually because it tastes so good and I can't get enough of it. Go ahead and enjoy the shit out of this gem. My most pleasantly surprising 5 so far.

Just a horrible title for a great album. I wondered if this wasn't a greatest hits album when I first saw it. The should have fought harder to keep the original name of the album, "Snowblind", but I suppose that thanking "the great COKE-cola" in the liner notes was a suitable concession. Your mileage may vary, but I like the change of pace that Sabbath provides when busting out the piano and mellotron.

Impossibly overrated. If not for the contributions by the always appealing Snoop Dogg, this would be a challenge to get through. It has its moments, but maybe ease up on the historical praise a bit (really Rolling Stone? The 37th greatest album of all time?). Plus I never cared for Beats headphones. Snoop bumps it up from a 2. Actual rating is 2.5.

I probably need a few more spins to process and make sure I truly love the album, and it isn't just Moz trying to seduce me with those baby blues on the album cover. So far, Morrissey's solo work lives solidly right there in the 4 area for me. Which, hey, is nothing to crow about. I can't help but wonder if all that's keeping him from classic status is either the willingness to eat meat or enjoy having sex. No one needs a good lay as badly as Morrissey does.

Finally, someone delivers on all the promises the Carpenters only hinted at, the ones that Richard Carpenter cock-blocked Karen Carpenter from attempting. That's not to compare the vocal styles of Nina Persson and the silky smooth Karen Carpenter. But there's a sadness to a lot of the Cardigans that's baked into some cheesy sounds. There's also a pretty great cover of a Black Sabbath classic. Most of the album sounds like bubble-gum pop meets new-era grunge lounge, and I'm here for all of it. "Lovefool" was a number one song for all intents and purposes (it was released during that weird era when Billboard didn't have their shit together, so many bangers of the era were relegated to charts titled "Top 100 Radio Airplay" and "Top 40 Mainstream". Fuckin' algorithms). But I'm telling you, that song was EVERYWHERE in 1997. It had some sort of relationship with that Romeo + Juliet movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes, which makes sense somehow. When a song is that perfect, it's going to work anywhere. The Cardigans didn't reach the level of success that fellow Swedish bands Abba or Ace Of Base did, and it sounds like a lot of that was due to the fact that the success of "Lovefool" freaked them out a little. I still own three CDs by the Cardigans, and I'll take them over anything by Ace Of Base anytime.

Sixteen year old me loved this cassette to the point of wearing it out. Then I never listened to it again. Between this and "License To Ill", I might have just OD'd on the genre. So this was an interesting revisit. The "Walk This Way" mash-up/re-make/cover remains essential. In fact, the beats overall hold up incredibly well. It's the misogynist lyrics that have become cringe worthy. But it's still quite a blast to listen to again. My flawed memory suggested "Mary Mary" was on this album, so I was a little sad to discover it was on their follow up album. I have a sneaky suspicion that "Raising Hell" holds up better than "License To Ill".

I love it when an album takes its title from lyrics of a song instead of a song title. And this one comes right out uses the first three words from the first song ("Uncomplicated") for its title. This is usually a pretty good indication that I'm going to dig the album (See also: Nirvana, "Nevermind"). It's quite possible this ends up being my favorite Elvis Costello album. That's not to say it's his best, but it might be the one I listen to the most. Coming into this little exercise, I was only familiar with the first part of Costello's career. I knew nothing about this album and assumed this would give me a reason to ramble on about how Elvis Costello has too many albums on this list. Oh, how great it feels to be wrong!

Where California isn’t a setting, but rather an idea about feeling ugly and dark when everything around you is gorgeous and sunny. As we learned from another 1970’s song, it never rains in (southern) California. But man, it pours. We’re always going to fuck up a wet dream. Dreams of land, cocaine, the warm smell of colitas, relationships, cruising the freeway with a drug dealer named The Count, success. The album's theme is how inevitable it is that we’ll destroy everything that's beautiful. And it's the masterpiece from perhaps the most-hated, most-loved band of the past 50 years. This is the sound of a band clicking on all cylinders. A band that finally realized their strengths (their drummer being their best vocalist and songwriter, having now two rock guitar virtuosos in their lineup) and eliminated their weaknesses (Glenn Frey might have been the band’s “leader”, but his vocal skills were better suited to harmonize with Henley and Meisner). It’s Henley’s voice that dominates the album, but Frey, Joe Walsh, and Randy Meisner each get a lead vocal on standout songs. Don Felder, the lone band member who doesn’t get a lead vocal, makes his presence known on two killer songs in particular that he co-wrote: “Victim of Love”, a song he’ll go to his grave believing he was promised was his to sing lead on; and the title track, which wouldn’t be the classic rock staple it continues to be without his incredible guitar work. The guitar “duel” at the end between Felder and Walsh is so incendiary that the band insisted on keeping it unedited on the single, where it went all the way to number one on the Billboard Hot 100. Each member’s contribution on that song alone is essential, from Henley’s seething vocals to Meisner’s bassline. Frey especially shines on “New Kid in Town”, the vocal arrangements of which are among my favorites of any song. It’s a pretty song, where the band admits they’re hot shit right now, but they know there’s a slew of rising artists bubbling up on the scene ready to take their place (The Eagles worrying about when all the fun will be over certainly seems like the most Eagles thing ever). Bob Dylan said that Joe Walsh’s “Pretty Maids All in a Row” could be “one of the best songs ever”. I’m not one to judge Dylan’s taste, but I’m all in favor of anything that makes Joe Walsh feel good. But again, the vocal harmonies are nothing short of sensational. When they harmonize like this, I’ll take the Eagles over any band. I’ve always thought of “Try to Love Again” as Meisner’s sequel to “Take It to The Limit”. In my mind, the Eagles aren't the Eagles without Randy Meisner, an exceptional bass player with a high falsetto so breathtaking it eventually became too much for him to perform on a nightly basis (which fits right in with this album's theme now that I think about it). But this is really when Glenn Frey realized it’s best to get out of the way and just let Henley cook. Henley handles the lead vocals on 5 of the albums 9 songs, including the band’s best-known track. Henley's voice is perfect for emphasizing how anything that feels so good comes with a price on “Life in The Fast Lane”, and the album’s closer, “The Last Resort”. And it's on the heart-wrenching, underrated ballad “Wasted Time” where Henley firmly steps out from the drum kit and is allowed to just stand alone and wail. His vocals brim with soul and emotion in his attempt to reach out to a former lover and convince her to accept that it was all worth it, underscored by the quick instrumental reprise that opens Side Two of the album. There’s a reason why Don Henley’s solo career left Glenn Frey’s in the dust. Henley was not only a better songwriter, but a more soulful and interesting vocalist (just listen to Henley’s background vocals on Linda Ronstadt’s cover of “Blue Bayou” for further proof). This is one of my Desert Island Albums. Frankly, any album that an artist can play in its entirety live in front of sold-out crowds is essential. I own this album on practically every format possible, save for 8-Track, because I’m not a monster. The Eagles even got me to buy a remastered 40th Anniversary Expanded Edition, which included a live set from the band at the peak of their powers (listen to that version of the album on your preferred platform). If I could only listen to 10 albums from this list for the rest of my life, this is clearly one of the ten I'd choose.

The number is 210. As in, I was given 210 albums from the algorithm of this little project before I was finally awarded with a Beatles album. That's not a criticism at all, especially considering that Rubber Soul is possibly my favorite Beatles album. I even like the Ringo song. This is the sound of the greatest rock band in history taking a giant step forward. Or to be more precise, it's John Lennon letting everyone know how great drugs can be. His songs in particular standout here - not to state the obvious, but every track on here is great, it's just that Lennon's are on another level that Paul and George weren't at yet (again, probably because they hadn't full embraced the wonders of mind-altering chemicals as John had). Just take a look at two of the ballads in the middle of the album. It sounds like Paul considers singing some of the lyrics of "Michelle" in French as a giant leap forward (his likely inspiration came from when the band recorded a bunch of their previous hits in German). John insisted in keeping a hissing sound on "Girl" that was picked up on the mic, because he thought it sounded like him inhaling marijuana. And then there's George and Paul singing the word "tit-tit-tit" over and over again on the middle eights. Those cheeky devils! John's Norwegian Wood, Nowhere Man, and In My Life also stand out. George really came into his own here on two great album cuts. This is one of my Desert Island Albums. Some may hear it as a foretaste of the feast to come, and in many ways, it is. Whether it was the drugs, the Byrds or Dylan, the Fab Four was clearly influenced to take their magic in new and exciting directions. And it all starts here.

OVRRTD.

A perfect mix of The Bangles, Garbage and No Doubt. In fact, if Susanna Hoffs, Shirley Manson and Gwen Stefani could somehow have a baby together, well, that would be weird. But if Jack and Meg White would have had a baby, that baby would likely be a lot like Yeah Yeah Yeahs vocalist Karen O. Hell, they probably would have named her Karen O. Are we counting the bonus acoustic versions in our review? Because I prefer some of those to the original version. This also led me to the band's great cover of Big Star's "Thirteen", which means something. Just an overall great listen, acoustic tracks included. It falls maybe an iota short of classic status, but since it's new to me, I'm hoping multiple listens will improve it up that small notch.

Look no further than this album to understand exactly why B.B. King's is synonymous with the blues. I'm not what you would call a big fan of the blues (just between us girls, I sort of hate the blues - maybe hate is too strong of a word, but it's certainly not one of my go-to genre's), but I absolutely love this album. B.B. King had the misfortune of appearing in the bad Blues Brothers movie, which almost feels like a make-good for not having him in the original 1980 classic. Other than that, my familiarity with the legend was limited to a duet he did with U2 and a sample of his "I've been downhearted baby" line on a song from the 1996 movie "The Cable Guy" by a one-hit wonder of a band called the Primitive Radio God's called, I kid you not, "Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand". Oh the '90's! Plus I seem to recall that prick Eric Clapton trying to associate himself with King whenever it suited his purpose. I apologize to B. B. King. He deserved better from me. I'll make up to him by enjoying this album some more and taking a deeper dive into his catalog. I'll probably never go all in on the blues, but I'll forever be on board with B. B. King. What an absolute joy of an album.

You're better off taking some Xanax if you're that nervous about flying. Suitable album title, as it sounds what it's like to be stuck in an airport. But who the hell wants to spend time in an airport? I'm also guessing airports could get a better deal from Muzak than they could from Brian Eno. In the interest of full disclosure, I put this on once to put me to sleep, and I'm pleased to report that it worked in that regard. The only reason this album is getting bumped up a notch from a 1 rating is because I really needed sleep that night, so much so that Spotify kept playing a shitload of songs after this Airport Album ended. The following is an incomplete list of artists played after "Music For Airports" ended. I have to assume these artists are all approved by TSA, Airport Group International, and any other group associated with airports: • Galaxie 500 • Goldmund • Julianna Barwick • Scott Walker • Television (!) • John Cale • Library Tapes (go figure) • Harold Budd • Stereolab • The Fall • Boards of Canada (should have been called BORED In Canada, amiright?)

I'm going to tell my kids that "Agent Orange" is about Trump. I'm joking. I already told my kids that "Agent Orange" is about Trump and these fellas were just able to see into a dark future. I might also have thrown in how Trump played "Agent Orange" whenever he was getting a golden shower. It certainly sounds plausible. This album is fine, Depeche Mode is fine. A little overrated? Sure, and I'll save my rant for how the hell they're in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for another day. Do I prefer some love versions of Depeche Mode songs? Yes, surprisingly. I wish my take on "Agent Orange" (a pretty forgettable instrumental that sounds like it was added at the last minute as filler) was true. It would at least show that these guys have a sense of humor.

I don't understand the Brit Pop Wars. Or at least, I don't understand the whole Blur vs. Oasis fight, almost like it's supposed to be a Beatles vs. The Stones or Nirvana vs. Pearl Jam sort of battle. To my ears, this is more like generic vs. brand name, with Blur being generic throwing stones and insisting they're the same, if not better, than the "brand name" Oasis. It's the nail vs. the hammer. There's no comparison. Oasis is better, there isn't even an argument. Wonderwall is an all-timer (yes, Wonderwall itself is a stone cold 5). There are a shitload of bangers here. Some were so over played in 1995 and 1996 to the point of annoyance, so I tended to avoid the Gallagher Brothers in their heyday. My bad. Not every track has the, ahem, wonder of Wonderwall, but this one is aging nicely overall.

Someone needs to get me a Rabbit Test because I'm pretty sure Queen Bey just got me very pregnant.

I'm hoping everyone is getting this for Christmas Day (it makes all the sense in the world if that's the case - I mean, how could anyone properly review this on say August 15th?). Just ignore the Phil Spector factor (although just because he became a convicted murderer doesn't make him less of a musical genius, although I'm still not sure what he was trying to do to the Beatles with "Let It Be"). Focus on all the joy and wonder that is the living national treasure known as one Darlene Love. One of the greatest things David Letterman did was to have Love sing "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" on his late night show every Christmas for something like 26 consecutive years. It's reportedly the only Christmas song Dave likes, so he'd have Darlene come out and belt her classic holiday tune with Paul Schaefer and company every year. What a gift for Darlene Love. And what a gift she is to us. Just listen to her start this album off by making a Bing Crosby classic all her own. Love's version of "White Christmas" is the only one I want to hear. Besides this album, the only other holiday album I enjoy is the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. This album is a big reason damn near every artist at least tries to record a Christmas song at some point in their career. Hell, I might have even choked up a bit during Spector's spoken word message over "Silent Night". In 100 years, the world will have moved on from Mariah Carey's Christmas song, but people will still be listening to Spector's Wall Of Sound, and Darlene Love will wear the crown as the true Queen Of Christmas.

Something of a masterpiece. It starts off with not only one of the best opening songs on any album, but arguably the best Sonic Youth song, period. This is the alternative album you're looking for. The one where Kim Gordon, Thurston Moore and company put everything together and were so prolific they had enough gems to merit a double album. And this things takes you on a freaking journey. Sonic Youth might be like good scotch in that they're something of an acquired taste, but once you're into them, you're all in. Look no further to hear why Kurt Cobain and several others were so inspired by Sonic Youth. Just say yes.

I bet The Jesus from The Big Lebowski tells everyone this is his favorite album, but he's probably never even listened to it. Good on him.

They had me at "Musical Bowel Movement". I'm going to need George Clinton to resolve all of the license issues he has with our go-to streaming services, because this thing slaps and slaps hard. As of this writing, the only way you can listen to this album in its entirety is on YouTube, which, is fine I guess. I seriously considered buying a physical copy of the album on vinyl or CD. Maybe that's what George Clinton wants from all of us. If that's the case, we shouldn't argue with the Godfather of Funk.

Further proof that back in the day, Itchycoo Park had the best drugs.

"Cars" alone is an absolute Hall Of Fame track. And the other great songs on this album sound an awful lot like "Cars". And, Mr. Newman: I served with Thomas Dolby. I knew Thomas Dolby. Thomas Dolby was a friend - and LOVER - of mine. Mr. Newman, you're no Thomas Dolby.

I can appreciate it, understand it, tip my hat to it, maybe even masterbate to it, but that doesn't necessarily mean I love it. Bumping it up a point for staying within a nice, tight run time.

Jingle Jangle. After being served three Byrds albums here, it's become apparent that the band's legacy is providing a blueprint for current and future artists to improve upon. R.E.M., the Eagles, Beatles, Beach Boys are just some who out Byrd-ed the Byrds. Hell, David Crosby out did them when he (pardon the pun) flew the coop and formed CSN. You can hear a lot of The Byrds on Tom Petty records (yes, including his cover of "So You Want To Be A Rock and Roll Star", this album's best track). I've enjoyed all 3 Byrds albums so far. I'm just surprised at how much their music completely sounds like it's of its time and not timeless. Which isn't a necessarily a bad thing.

Their best album, and it's not even close. The band was in need of something of a reinvention, which in U2's case meant making sure the songs didn't sound like they were about God. Or at least not come off as self-righteous. And for Bono Vox, that's asking a lot. "One" is Bono's "Bridge Over Troubled Water", destined to be covered ad nauseum for years to come. My favorite song here is "Trying To Throw You're Arms Around The World", and 22-year old me was delighted to hear them play it when I saw them on their Zoo TV Tour in support of this album in Ames, Iowa. Every song here is a banger, and proof that Bono is capable of magic when he doesn't take himself so seriously. R.E.M.'s "Automatic for the People", Nirvana's "Nevermind" and this masterpiece were all released within a 12-month time frame. During the same time frame, both Robin Yount and George Brett collected their 3,000th hit, and a large black woman walked up to me and said, "You got a fine ass. You could fry an egg on that ass" waiting in line to get into a bar. What a great time it was to be alive.

After leading off with one of the greatest, if not THE greatest, sing-along songs of all-time, this thing turns into a snooze hard and fast. It's almost like those 8 minutes and 42 seconds of the title track were a tease. I guess that song along gives this album a spot on this list. But McLean should have titled this album Ambien because it'll put you to sleep in a hurry.

HOT TAKE: Solange's album is better than the Beyoncé album on this list. As Vincent Vega would say, that's a bold statement, one I don't actually believe as Solange doesn't quite work the hooks like Beyoncé can. Serious shades of the late Minnie Riperton here, which makes for a rather enjoyable listen. Maybe if Solange stuck to the songs and wasn't so preachy she might completely get away from her sister's shadow.

I bet Louis Prima and David Lee Roth would have been fast friends. After listening to this album, I have a sneaky suspicion that Diamond Dave patterned his entire lead singer persona on Prima. We should have known this when one of the first things Roth did after leaving Van Halen was to cover "Just A Gigolo/I Ain't Got Nobody". You can totally picture Roth singing a lot of these lyrics scored to Eddie Van Halen's manic guitars and Michael Anthony providing the background vocals instead of Keely Smith. And I'm also guessing Diamond Dave's lifetime dream would be to voice an orangutan in a Disney movie. Similar to most things involving Roth, this thing is a freaking party. I love an album cover that tells you everything it's all about. Look no further to hear why Louis Prima was called The King Of Swing. What an absolute joy.

I walked into this one blind with the preconceived notion that it's impossibly overrated due to the fact that Bowie shuffled off his mortal coil just days after it was released. Obviously Bowie knew he was dying as he was making this, and many made a big deal about the "Look up here, I'm in heaven" line that opens "Lazarus". And realizing that the opening title track was close to ten minutes long didn't help create any excitement for me as I dove in. I was elated to find out all of this album's praise is well-deserved, and I ended up listening to the entire album in its entirety multiple times. As far as Swan Songs go, it's not quite Abbey Road, but it's a perfect send off for Bowie and right up there with Hunky Dory and Ziggy Stardust as his best albums. It's a beautiful and haunting - and yet somewhat not depressing - final bow. I'm not crazy about the album cover. It would have been poetic to instead have that final photo ever taken of Bowie, the one his wife Iman took of him smiling and holding a cigarette.

Look: I'm a suck for power pop. I ride hard for Big Star, Matthew Sweet, The Raspberries, Cheap Trick, and yes, especially The Knack. And apparently this is "garage rock" more than "power pop". Or "early alternative" or "post punk". Whatever. It sounds power pop to me. And there are a ton of great songs here. I loved a lot of it. It's just become perhaps the most overrated underrated album of all-time. It definitely deserves a spot on this list for the influence it had on future bands who took their blueprint and did it better.

Proof that John Cale was the Bernie Leadon of the band, mainly concerned with playing new or obscure instruments and lacking the charismatic vocals of his band mates, and ultimately leaves the band. But look: I love Bernie Leadon. I just think Lou Reed was right. Cale's ideas are out there.

It got me right off the bat with a terrific cover of a Rod Stewart song, which is actually a cover of a Crazy Horse song. It turns out that Crazy Horse had a career outside of playing with Neil Young occasionally. But after that song (I Don't Want To Talk About It is a solid 5), most of this sounds like watered down Sade. If Sade is what you put on to get laid, then this album is what you put on to masturbate. So in that sense, this album will get you everything but the girl.

The history books suggest this album was released in November, 1983. I suppose that's technically true, but there isn't an album that sounds like the watershed year of 1984 as much as this album does. And it's impact was really felt for ALL of 1984. It goes to great lengths to SOUND like it's from 1984. Look no further than my favorite song from the album, "All Through The Night". It's close to a perfect song, save for the decision to lay that synthesizer on in a way that only the '80's would allow. There were seemingly countless master works released in 1984. This one comes right out of the gate with 6 absolute bangers before losing steam on the last four songs. But that six-pack of songs (one, it should be pointed out, was written by Prince Rogers Nelson, perhaps 1984's most prolific artist who could go no wrong at the time) belong in a time capsule. The, ahem, timeless "Time After Time" is Cyndi's signature song. Her "Bridge Over Troubled Water". The song current and future generations cover, cry to, and slow dance to at proms. It's the one song certain to keep Cyndi Lauper around in whatever way people listen to the radio and music for years to come.

You're better off exploring the French songs on the "Ocean's Twelve" soundtrack.

The Kinks have a ton of hits. I can probably name 15 off the top of my head, the majority of them perfect pop songs. And there isn't a single one of those gems on this album. In fact, unless you're related to the Davies or you happen to be Wes Anderson, you likely haven't heard any song from this album. It doesn't matter. This album is fucking great. I loved every minute of it, and I'm almost embarrassed that it took this long to finally get around to hearing it. This is a million times better than all the Byrds albums we've had to listen to here. We should probably talk about Ray and Dave Davies more than we do, or at least more than the press we give to the freaking Gallagher Brothers.

This ain't no southern rock. This is watered down Kid Rock. This album sets some sort of record for most George Wallace shout outs, which is....something? Stick with '70's Skynyrd instead.

The Godfather Part II of live prison albums. The Man In Black sings a few too many slow, depressing tunes in front of his captive Folsom audience. This album is more of a party. Be sure to listen to the Legacy Edition, which includes many more songs, since Johnny not only brought June Carter to San Quentin, but the freaking Statler Brothers and Carl Perkins as well. Johnny must have liked the inmates at San Quentin more than the ones stuck in Folsom Prison.

If you Google "meh" it starts to play this album.

The UK version leads off with Mother's Little Helper and doesn't have Paint It Black. The US version leads off with Paint It Black, but omits Mother's Little Helper. The Spotify link here goes to the UK version, which means you miss one of the all time great Stones songs. That's a pretty big swing. Both versions give you the overlong Going Home, which is probably the song that makes McCartney think the Stones were just a great blues cover band, even if they did write all of the songs on both the UK and US versions of this album.

It's only here because it sold a few Volkswagons and the depressed artist killed himself at the age of 26. Gains a point for the Dream Academy and Peter Buck influence. Loses a point for the Zach Braff association.

The Wordle of albums. Just a nice, easy way to pass the time that some people unnecessarily feel the need to make into a big deal.

At least now I can honestly say that I know why this album was voted off the island. This thing is BRUTAL. I never asked for a shoegaze birthday, but the algorithm dug deep into the discard pile to deliver what's possibly the worst of the genre. Let's stop saying Shoegaze by the way. And Yacht Rock for that matter.

California Stars alone is an all-timer, and everything else is an absolute joy. Somehow it's a perfect mix of Bragg, Wilco, special guest Natalie Merchant and the unearthed Woody Guthrie lyrics. Jay Bennett was always the secret sauce in Wilco (the band was never considered "dad rock" until he and Jeff Tweedy parted ways). He always seemed to bring out the best of Tweedy. Back to the aforementioned California Stars. It's obviously a 5, such a great timeless song that it became a signature song for Wilco. It still closes out many of their concerts. Woody Guthrie should write more songs for Jeff Tweedy.

Ranking (in ascending order) of male vocalists who have had sex with Cher (allegedly): Sonny Bono Gregg Allman Gene Simmons Val Kilmer This album is just proof that Phish had much stronger weed.

Probably their best effort. It's certainly their most consistent. The three "hits" (the songs I knew before I heard this album) are unabashed classics, and a lot of this sounds like a healthy mix of The Smiths and Pink Floyd. Always a good sign: I kept listening after the album ended, and Spotify thrilled me with an epic live version of "Personal Jesus" that sounded like a fucking party.

The band's name isn't doing them any favors. I kept listening, waiting to be impressed and it just bored the shit out of me. These guys don't know what they're talking about. Apparently the annoying oaf from Notting Hill is in this band, which is just a little too on the nose.

STEVIE! I'll never understand how someone like Stevie Wonder can be overlooked, but here we are. Unfortunately it seems like the world won't show it's outpouring of appreciation for Stevie until he dies. He had an imperial period that ranks up there with the all-time greats and was as prolific as Prince. And that doesn't even take into consideration that, oh yeah, the dude is BLIND. Many point to "Superstition" being the signature, iconic track on this album and they're not wrong. But let's not sleep on the joy that is the opening track on this album. "You Are The Sunshine Of My Life" is full of joy and elation that captures exactly how happy it is to be madly in love with someone. The song itself is a party, where Stevie captures the happiness he's found in the world all in two-minutes and 45 seconds. We shouldn't wait until we lose Stevie Wonder to thank him for the joy he's given us.

I'm beginning to think that Neil Young deserves to have 7 albums on this list. No, not all of them are 5's, but I have no problem with any of the Neil Young albums I've heard so far. This was one of those I was unfamiliar with (aside from My, My, Hey, Hey). And it's one of Old Neil's best. It also gives me a chance to talk about Nicolette Larson, who died much too young at the age of 45. Nicolette Larson had a huge hit with a song Neil wrote called "Lotta Love" and it's just the perfect piece of late 1970's pop. Larson provides great vocals here on "Sail Away", one of the better acoustic numbers on the album. I always thought Nicolette Larson should have a career similar to the one Linda Ronstadt had. She was clearly sought after from legends like Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris and Neil Young. And she's an extremely welcome presence on this album. Maybe one more song featuring her vocal stylings would push this thing into the classic 5 category.

So just how impossibly underrated is Jeff Beck? He's never mentioned among the all-timers, at least not in the upper echelon like Jimmy Page, Eddie Van Halen, or Jim Hendrix. And I'll take Jeff Beck over that prick Eric Clapton any day. Beck's a virtuoso here like he always is, but if you didn't know any better, you might swear this is a Rod Stewart album. My favorite Jeff Beck song is the cover version of "People Get Ready" that he and Stewart did some 17 years after this album. By that point, Rod was at the height of his fame after a remarkable solo career that eventually went in a much different direction from the work he did with Jeff Beck and then the Faces. It's a shame that we don't remember Rod's early career like some of the great songs from this album. Most of that is on Stewart himself, who still seems to be addicted a little too much to the spotlight (I know maybe 15 things about the world, and somehow one of those things is that Rod Stewart likes soccer). But it's more of an injustice that we don't give Jeff Beck his props as an axe wizard.

The Godfather of live prison albums, which in my book, means that it pales a bit to The Godfather Part II of live prison albums. But the original Godfather is one of the best movies ever made, just as this is one of the best live albums ever released. The best moment - oh hell, there are a lot of best moments - comes after Cash sings "I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die" when a Folsom inmate punctuates the line with a triumphant cheer. It's a vocal cheer that says that guy knew exactly what Johnny Cash was singing about. An excited "been there/done that" affirmation. That recorded moment alone puts this baby at a 5. And I'm pretty sure that same inmate is the one getting a little too excited during certain parts of Cocaine Blues.

Toward the end of their sets performed during the No Nukes concerts (available in video and audio formats as "The Legendary 1979 No Nukes Concerts"), Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band perform a rousing "Detroit Medley", which includes versions of Good Golly Miss Molly and Jenny Jenny. And that medley is a freaking party. I recommend watching the performance to really appreciate the Boss at the peak of his powers. And I couldn't help but feel that Little Richard's version of "Jenny Jenny" pales in comparison to the brouhaha Springsteen and Company put on those nights at Madison Square Garden. That isn't too diss the legend that is Little Richard at all. If anything, it's a testament to Little Richard's influence across generations. This is likely one of the album that Springsteen listened to repeatedly as a child growing up in Long Branch, New Jersey. And you can absolutely hear why he and millions more would be so into Little Richard. This album is an absolute marvel. So was Little Richard. Quick aside. Apparently Rolling Stone had this thing ranked at number 50 in their first two editions of their "500 Greatest Albums of All-Time" list. Then for no good reason, they dropped it all the way down to number 227 in their third edition of their silly little list. That 3rd list was released just months after we lost Little Richard. I'm glad he wasn't around to see Rolling Stone diss him like that.

Maybe it's a blessing that this full album wasn't available on Spotify. And maybe that means Neil Young and Joni Mitchell were involved with this band. I certainly know I heard enough that I didn't need to seek the full album elsewhere.

Deserves some sort of extra credit for recording "Helter Skelter" exactly how Charles Manson heard it in his head ten years prior. Overall, this album is a delight. Shame on everyone I went to college with for not introducing this to me during my campus years. You can literally hear countless bands (the B52's, Sonic Youth and Smashing Pumpkins immediately come to mind) forming just from hearing this. Dark, twisted, original and thoroughly enjoyable.

Someday soon (possibly even while I'm still going through all of these albums), there are going to be serious arguments about either Courtney Love or Hole should be elected to the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. I'm not saying her or the band will make it, but the two albums deservedly on this list sure make a good case for election. Both "Live Through This" and "Celebrity Skin" come close to being perfect for their genres and time. I find myself preferring this one, and not because it's more accessible. Courtney leans more into a polished pop sound (similar to what Liz Phair did post Guyville) that seems to suit her more. Some dissed her for that, suggesting she sold out. Courtney could never do right in her critic's eyes. As far as "California Albums" are concerned, I'll put this up with the Beach Boys, Eagles Byrds and Doors similar conceptual albums. Maybe by the time she and Hole are eligible for the Rock Hall, voters will judge Courtney on her musical contributions and forget that she had anything to do with killing Kurt Cobain (allegedly, don't @ me).

The lead vocalist sounds a little too much like Linda Perry from the 4 Non Blondes. Bumped up a notch for the great playlist Spotify fed me after the album ended. I got some great PJ Harvey, Portishead, Hole, and a little band called the Manic Street Preachers. I'm scaling up a notch for the aforementioned lead singer being named Skin. Actual rating is 2.5.

Sounds like the soundtrack to a sci-fi movie that thankfully was never made. I guess you need to to hear it before you die just so you know what hell sounds like.

The three "hits" (read: The songs you know) are unabashed classics, which also makes this Reed's most accessible work. I'm all for Reed and the Velvets appearing on the list. I even love a few other of the album cuts on here (although a couple are an absolute snooze). This baby is a Sweet Jane away from being bumped up to 5 territory.

Listen: Things turned out pretty well for Rod Stewart. I'd argue that he ultimately ended up with the career he wanted (unless I'm way off here, and he was a frustrated soccer player, but I think Rod's association with soccer and his love for "football" was just part of his carefully crafted image). But I wonder about some sliding door moments where either the Jeff Beck Group or Faces broke through in ways that the Stones or Led Zeppelin did, and then maybe Rod would have been a lesser Mick Jagger or Robert Plant. But that's basically who Rod Stewart is. He doesn't have quite the front man charisma of Jagger. He definitely never had the soaring vocal skills that Plant had back in the day. And I think Rod Stewart knew this about himself. He still has (or had) one of the more unique voices in rock and/or roll. And some of the songs he sings lead on for the Faces (especially Bad 'N' Ruin) and the Jeff Beck Group are balls out classics. As are a ton of his early solo songs. But Rod Stewart's persona and ego were too big to be hidden as "just" the lead vocalist for a band. Not to mention having to give up lead vocals to a Ronnie Lane on certain songs. And Rod has a point there. His voice is so much better than Lane's, and you end up wishing Rod was the lone lead vocalist here. The material itself is decent. It's just not Zeppelin or the Stones. And maybe Rod Stewart knew that better than anyone.

Too goth to be emo and too maudlin for maudlin's sake. The Cure have a minimum of 12 great songs and not a one of them is anywhere near this album. This album allegedly spoke to a lot of depressed youth and (unfortunately) inspired the Robert Smith look. I'm glad that at least the band went in a better direction after this grease fire.

Deserves to be on the list for Dancing Queen alone. Everything else is just gravy, including the other two hits (Knowing Me, Knowing You and Fernando, both of them good but pale to the magic of Dancing Queen). But Good God, how perfect of a pop song is Dancing Queen? That one song is going to outlast many of the albums on this list. It's the one reason why ABBA will probably tour as holograms for decades to come.

White women love this shit. So does this white boy. Maybe not AS much - I'm Team Taylor, she won me over with the Folklore/Evermore Combo all the way back in 2020. You don't want to wrong Adele, unless you want an album about how you done her wrong.

Robbie Robertson found a way to position himself as the leader of The Band. The front man if you will. The alpha of the group, despite the fact that he NEVER SANG LEAD on any of their songs. And we're talking about a band - THE Band - that had three great lead singers. In fact, legend has it they even had to mute Robbie's mic during The Last Waltz because he just couldn't harmonize with Levon and the boys. Apparently Robbie's plan was to make sure the other 4 members of The Band soaked themselves in booze and drugs while he remained sober and took all of the songwriting royalties he could. But just look at that photo of The Band on this album's cover. Who do you think is the leader of this motley group? Certainly not the dude on the far right who looks like a cross between a substitute high school teacher and a failed character actor. No way. It's the gruff lookin' fella out front on the left. The singing drummer, who would also take turns on the mandolin and guitar. The one who would play Loretta Lynn's father in Coal Miner's Daughter and Jack Ridley in The Right Stuff. He's also the one who sings lead on The Band's best songs. Levon Helm deserved better, or at the very least some of the spotlight Robbie Robertson refused to give anyone but himself. Tune in for next time when I talk about why The Last Waltz soundtrack should be on this list, perhaps in place of Music From The Big Pink. But make no mistake: This is the country rock you're looking for. Better than anything by The Byrds or The Flying Burrito Brothers. It's as close to a perfect album as any on this list. I listened to the Deluxe Edition on Spotify because that's just who I am. I'm a completist. Maybe that's why all my friends call me Whiskers.

Extremely enjoyable turn from Ol' Neil, who again proves he's never just pissing in the wind. I just can't help but think this would have sounded better if I was able to listen to it on Spotify.

In the interest of full disclosure, I stopped listening after the 42nd song.

My little Icelandic princess. Björk is everything I want and need in a chanteuse. She's not trying to be weird just for the sake of being weird. She paints almost a theatrical experience with every song. What I love about this album is it's almost like each song is a different genre yet it all flows together as a cohesive album. Actual rating is probably a 4.5, but I've listened to "Birthday" so many times since I got The Sugarcubes album on here that my gut suggests I bump it up. Who knew that Björk was being held back by The Sugarcubes?

The definition of what a live album should sound like. An absolute surprising burst of euphoria. This album is why I signed up for this project some 267 days ago. Sure, I've enjoyed revisiting the classic albums I was already familiar with. But the biggest reason lies in the potential discovery of gems I'd never even heard of previously. Like this one.

The lineup of talented backup singers Stevie has here is insane (Deniece Williams, Minnie Riperton et al). I thought Stevie might run the table and get 5's for all of his albums. This one is great, absolutely deserving of a spot on the list. There's not a damn thing wrong with it. It just lives in that 4.5 area.

Opens up with an all-time banger - I'm in the minority in that I actually with that "Good Times" was longer than 8 minutes - and then just stumbles around through the end. As an unabashed Nile Rodgers and Chic fan, this was a major disappointment. But Good Times alone merits the album's inclusion here.

Plus one point for the interesting cover of an Elvis Presley song. Minus one point for not just calling it "Can't Help Falling In Love". Some of this wound up being strangely appealing, but most of it got extremely monotonous. Still not sure where I stand on the album cover resembling a prescription drug label. Maybe I didn't take the right drugs while listening.

The 1968 Bob Gibson season of albums. Even in the so-called "Year Of The Pitcher", Gibson having an ERA of 1.12 is just insane. So are 28 complete games and 13 shutouts. It's similar to an original album that contains Purple Haze, Hey Joe, May This Be Love, The Wind Cries Mary, Fire, however you want to spell Foxey Lady, and of course, the title song. There will never be another Bob Gibson. And there's never been anyone like Jimi Hendrix.

The MySpace of albums. Not only does it not hold up anymore, but you can't believe it ever did.

Part of it is treadmill music. Part of it is montage music. And I don't mean that in an Eddie Haskell sort of way.

Sort of a snooze, which explains why Neil Young had to use crowd noise from a Beatles concert on the last song on the album. No way a crowd would be that excited at a Buffalo Springfield show.

Covering a portion of "Roadrunner" as Elmer Fudd was a choice.

I'm guessing at the right club, with the right lighting, at the right age, with the right drugs, this could be enjoyable. But without that mix, it's beyond annoying. Get off my lawn.

Who knew that David Crosby was holding the Byrds back? Some argue this is the band's finest work. I'm not ready to co-sign that statement yet. I seem to prefer my Byrds with a splash of Gram Parsons. There are still too many Byrds albums on this list (they shouldn't have more than 3). So cut two off, but this one stays.

My favorite moment on the album happens during "Somebody Have Mercy" towards the end when Swingin' Sam wails about how there's something wrong with him. "It ain't that leukemia," Sam answers. "That ain't it." This album never fails to put me in a great mood. It's just an all-around joy, and Sam Cooke is having such a good time that he encourages everyone in the audience (and by association, everyone listening) to keep the party going well beyond the final song. When the pandemic started all the way back in March, 2020 and it became obvious we were all going to spend an extended amount of time quarantining, I bought digital copies of this album and Sam Cooke at the Copa. It's not an exaggeration to say both albums got me through that first part of the pandemic. I longed to be at those performances with people singing every word and having the time of their lives. God bless the late Sam Cooke. Dude found a way to enthrall listeners who weren't even born - hell, people who wouldn't even be a dirty thought for decades to come - when he played the Harlem Square Club. That's the mark of a true legend.

Generic indie rock from a band that seems afraid of letting their lead singer truly take control. Maybe that's why Karen O doesn't even use her last name.

Man, I don't even have an opinion. OK, aside from having a desire to quote Marvin from Pulp Fiction, I'll take Gary Neumann, the Human League, and Thomas Dolby over these fellas.

Enjoyable, at least the parts that aren't overly long and self-indulgent. Some of it is reminiscent of the songs Maxwell Caulfield's character performed in "Grease 2". That's probably a compliment.

I really hope these fellas finally got to meet Stevie Wonder. Appreciated the sample of "It's A Shame" by The Spinners.

Some music can only be appreciated while imbibing quality reefer. In the interest of full disclosure, a Jeremy Piven played in the background while I listened to this. I don't even want to try and figure out what the title of the movie was, just know that it was Jeremy Piven with a goatee, and I seem to recall scenes of him around a pool table, and another one where he tried on a vest. You don't want images of a goateed Jeremy Piven scoring any album. Just trust me on that.

One of my favorite things about one of my favorite albums involves a song that somehow didn't make the album. The song's exclusion instead adds to both Rumours and Fleetwood Mac's legacy. There are at least four reasons why the Stevie Nicks penned "Silver Springs" wasn't included on Rumours: 1. There wasn't enough room on the vinyl pressing, a common problem in the '70's. 2. "Oh Daddy", the song that supposedly was chosen over "Silver Springs", was written by Christine McVie about founding member and drummer Mick Fleetwood, and he really wanted it on the album. 3. The consensus among the band members (or more specifically, Mick Fleetwood and Lindsey Buckingham) was that the album "felt" like it needed another lead vocal from Christine McVie instead of another spotlight for Stevie. 4. Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks had just ended their romantic relationship. Lindsey knew that "Silver Springs" meant the world to his ex-girlfriend, and in one final kiss-off, refused to allow it on the album (in another interesting twist, "Silver Springs" was the B-side for the Lindsey penned "Go Your Own Way"). All four of these reasons are true, but they mostly stem from reason number 4, as the lyrics for a lot of these songs suggest (especially "Go Your Own Way"). As it stands, the album has so many bangers from top to bottom that it doesn't ultimately matter that "Silver Springs" didn't make it. And if you listen to the Deluxe versions of Rumours, "Silver Springs" is included, right after "Gold Dust Woman". Stevie Nicks got the last laugh. She still got two signature songs on this album (including "Dreams", which is Fleetwood Mac's only Billboard Top 100 number one song and somehow re-charted in the top ten 40 years after it was initially released). And when the Mac reunited the classic lineup in 1997, "Silver Springs" was included in their MTV Video and live album "The Dance". Stevie's performance of her forgotten classic in The Dance is incendiary. Towards the end, she sings the "Never get away" part while staring DIRECTLY at Lindsey Buckingham. The fierce emotion of her face, coupled with Lindsey's frightened look, not only spoke to millions of Stevie devotees, but further defined the couple's relationship. Seriously, go watch that performance if you've never seen it. After Fleetwood Mac finishes the song, Stevie thanks the adoring audience by saying, "Silver Springs is a great old song". Which is sort of like saying Rumours is a great album. Both are true, but they're also huge understatements.

I guess I prefer them as surfer wannabes over hippies. Or maybe they should have spent more time on convincing Brian Wilson to get out of bed. My favorite songs here feature Carl on lead vocals.

It's fine. None of it's bad. It's good, but not great. It's also all over the place, and it's Declan at his most pretentious period. I'm an unabashed Elvis Costello fan, but dude has SIX albums on the list, and that's probably two too many. Let's bump this one from the list.

Shoutout to Swing Out Sister and of course The Fat Boys. This isn't anything I'd purposely revisit again. Maybe it just needed a little more Questlove.

Just a nice shot of adrenalin. It checked my favorite box, that being an album I was completely unfamiliar with and enjoyed immensely right out of the box. I even listened multiple times and this pushed me to do over an hour on the treadmill while listening to it. In a nice piece of symmetry, as "Us V Them" was played at the end of the first episode of The Dropout, underscoring Elizabeth Holmes (or rather actress Amanda Seyfried) looking all smug. Actual rating is closer to a 4.5, there are just a few too many songs that pale in comparison to the bangers. But it's still a splendid surprise.

This is what the first month of the Covid Pandemic felt like. And it's such a fucking banger. Quite simply, it's a masterpiece. The album was released about two weeks after the pandemic started, and I'd spend days just listening to this over and over again. Fiona Apple had, of course, recorded the album months previously, yet she somehow found a way to capture exactly how everyone felt when it was released. Just everything about the album, including the cover photo featuring an insane close-up of Fiona giving it a claustrophobic feel. And the title that's an immediate call to action, suggesting a way out of your current predicament. Two years after it's release, every song from top to bottom remains a killer. My favorite song seems to change with each listen, but I have a special spot in my heart for "Newspaper", which only gets better with every repeat listen. This is Fiona Apple firmly distancing herself from every female recording artist who debuted in the '90's and basically left them in the dust. She out-Exiled Liz Phair, jagged right through Alanis, and firmly put the Fiona Apple who blasted onto the scene with "Tidal" in her rearview mirror. She's going to be elected to the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame with relatively ease. When she first hit the music scene, Fiona Apple won an MTV Video award and proceeded to tell the audience that "this world was bullshit". And people lost their ever loving shit. How dare this skinny little waif act so unappreciative and vulgar! Fiona Apple was right about the world back then, and she's still right now.

We already have plenty of songs about buildings and food. No one asked for more. I'm guessing "Take Me To The River" is the only reason this Heads album is on the list. The world, or at least this list, would be much better if this album was replaced by "Stop Making Sense".

This is also the best Chic album. You can hear Nile Rodgers and his funky-ass guitar all over it. It's impossible for me to be subjective about some music, and that's especially the case for this album's title track. I used to always associate it with the 1979 Pittsburgh Pirates and their sabotaging of the song for their pennant run. That was until 1996, when it was played as the last song at 1:00 AM at our wedding reception. Even though the party was ending, there were close to 20 of members of my family who immediately took to the dance floor to jam out to some Sister Sledge. Thankfully someone had the wherewithal to video tape the moment, and I can still watch my Uncles and Aunts, brothers and sisters, and my 80 year-old grandmother joyfully tearing up a rug to "We Are Family". It's one of my favorite moments of the entire night. My marriage may not have lasted, but "We Are Family" certainly has.

What kind of crazy, fucked-up world do we live in where this album isn't one of the top 20 highest rated on this sites list? This is the sound of a band at the absolute peak of their powers. It's the epitome of a classic album. There's a reason the best songs from the album have been overplayed everywhere: they're simply that good. I even like the track John Entwistle sings lead on.

For those who like Hal Ashby and Wes Anderson films. Your mileage my vary if you have Daddy Issues. It makes me worry about whether or not I've done well by my son. It also just makes me miss my dad.

The Jungle Brothers walked so that De La Soul could run. Sounds a bit dated. I got this album on the day a new Orville Peck album dropped, and apparently I have a thing for gay, masked country singers who sound like Elvis. So this never stood a chance with me.

If I wanted to listen to space rock, I'd go to space. I can't help but think the aliens on the cover are Anorexic Batman and Shelley Duvall with bigger tits.

There's a reason the electric jug never took off as a featured instrument in popular music. Similar to why the wishbone offense never lasted in football. It might have worked at the collegiate level, but only if you had extremely skilled position players, and even then success was sporadic. That shit never flew in the pro game. The electric jug and the wishbone offense got old really fast. Shoutout to the opening of "High Fidelity". Bumping this score up a notch just for reminding me of that movie.

For when you want to know what it feels like to fall in and out of love with a manic pixie dream girl.

I bet these fellas bogarted the best medicinal shit available. How else to explain the difference between this and what Collins, Rutherford and Banks were doing a decade later. Some of us prefer that version of Genesis over these self-righteous textures.

Until today, my familiarity with this band basically had to do with the fact that I saw Tom Morello induct KISS into the Rock and/or Roll Hall Of Fame. And I immediate loved the guy. I then learned he was a member of bands with names I absolutely hated. I'd then see him show up in music docs talking about bands I loved (turns out, he also toured with Springsteen and the E Street Band for a spell). It wasn't enough to compel me to, you know, try listening to any of Morello's bands, let alone his seminal outfit. That was just a bridge too far for whatever reason. This may never be my favorite genre, but damn if I didn't love this album. It's "run through a brick wall" music. It might not be an album I play repeatedly or even revisit often, but it finally proved to me that I really need to stop selling Tom Morello short.

These fuckers couldn't even do a decent cover version of a Cure song.

Makes me want to go to a key party.

Better than awesome. An absolute joy.

This is just Jimmy Buffet with soul, a little substance, and weed instead of booze. Embarrassingly overrated.

"Boxer" was their big breakthrough, the album that led to a huge profile of The National in The New York Times containing fly-on-the-wall moments during the making of this album (an instant classic, by the way). My lone critique is that the Alternate Version of "Terrible Love" is miles better than the original that opens the album. And the band knew it, so much so that they released an expanded version of High Violet almost immediately to include the alternate version as a way of correcting the mistake. It's a minor nitpick, and that alternate version has thankfully become the standard. This is the album that firmly put The National on my Top Five list of all-time favorite bands. It's why Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran sought out the talents of Aaron Dessner to make new albums years after they became established pop stars. Anyone unfamiliar with The National should spend some time watching live performances of this album's closing track, Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks. It's how they usually end their concerts. Matt Berninger will walk back on stage for the encore performance, often with a glass of wine, and turn the microphone to the audience, compelling them to sing the entire song while he stands back basking in the joy of hearing the crowd throw the words back to him. It became such a staple at National shows that a mic was no longer needed. The crowd knew exactly what their role was to close out the show. We should all be so lucky to know the happiness Berninger feels during this moment of a National concert.

Extraordinarily OK.

Billy Joel said it best about this album. A black man taking the whitest music and making it his own. It's easy to lose sight of what a big deal this was at the time, and a lot of these songs have become such Ray Charles standards that a listener might not appreciate the significance of its existence. Seeing the album title alone, you'd be forgiven in thinking this would be a country album. In that respect, I prefer Charlie Pride over this. But it's NOT a country album. Billy Joel was right: It's a Ray Charles album. Old Ray made sure of that.

Their version of "Tainted Love" slaps and slaps hard. If we were only rating that song, this thing is a 5 with a bullet. It's such a great version that few realize that Tainted Love is actually a cover. But the rest of this is something of a snooze. There seem to be some blue prints for the Pet Shop Boys sprinkled throughout. But as the kids would say, there's no THERE there. Props, I guess, for making their take on Tainted Love the definitive version. One HIT wonders don't belong on this list. I'd rather the list made room for a One ALBUM wonder, like The Knack's "Get The Knack". Now that's an album with songs that live up to (and some would say surpass) their one hit (My Sharona).

A bit meandering and self-indulgent. That is to say, too long. There's a great single album in here somewhere. I mean, it does have both Trampled Under Foot and Kashmir. Back-to-back no less! Yet I appreciate some of the diversions that likely would have been axed if this were just a single album. Not ashamed to admit I ride hard for Boogie With Stu.

Record labels did a horrible job exposing gems like this to me when I was 27 years old. That's the only explanation for why I never heard this until now. What an absolute fucking joy. After 309 albums, I live for moments like this: Finding something new (to me) and immediately falling so hard it that a band becomes a new obsession. This warranted a repeat listen right away, since I didn't want it to end (but props to Spotify for following it up with a banger by The New Pornographers). We could all use a little more Sleater-Kinney in our lives.

I don't know, looks and sounds like the same Elvis to me... (OOPS! I'm sorry. I thought this album was called "Elvis is BLACK!") Three songs recorded during this session went to number 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. None are included on the album, which is insane. The King's voice actually improved after he got out of the army, and yet he followed up this gem by seemingly appearing in as many forgettable movies as time would allow. As always, blame the colonel. But this is the King, who belongs on this list in a big way.

Gen X's "Blue", which means that "Exile In Guyville" is Gen X's "Tapestry". I had those albums reversed at first until I remembered that, like Joni Mitchell, Alanis is from Canada. Besides, I prefer Guyville-Tapestry over Jagged-Blue, and I'm an actual Gen Xer, so I'm allowed to make my own silly rules. Your mileage may vary, but apparently Liz Phair and Alanis have become good friends. I guess it depends on whether you prefer blow jobs in a theater or getting fucked until your dick turns blue. They both sound like fun to me. A song as great as You Oughta Know deserves to be about someone other than Dave Coulier. I prefer the deep cuts over the hits here, and that's surely because everything released as a single after You Oughta Know was overplayed to the point of exhaustion. Alanis may not appreciate that. She doesn't seem to fully understand irony. But we shouldn't begrudge Alanis Morissette for that. She made a kick-ass album.

I'm only attending parties that have this playing in the background from now on.

I have no problem declaring this to be the worst album I've listened to so far. In an effort to provide a solution to the list's problem of removing this album from the list, I'm offering a replacement album: "Girlfriend" by Matthew Sweet. I'm a bit stunned it isn't on the list, and almost take that personally. It's more than a suitable replacement, since Girlfriend is a solid 5.

Good genes at work here. This is the girl from Iponema I was promised.

Something of a classic. I have a sneaky suspicion it'll grow on me even more. An unexpected gem.

For people who tell everyone Robert Pattinson is their favorite Batman, but really prefer Ben Affleck if they're being honest with themselves. If you feel like 1959, that might suggest you're a closet racist.

ZZ Top always makes me think, "pretty good". The bangers on this album really kick, but there are a few too many skips. The band appeared in a back To The Future movie, but it was the worst of the three films. They performed during halftime of a Super Bowl years before it was a coveted gig. One of the band member's actual last name is Beard, yet he's the only member who's clean shaven. All three members of ZZ Top look like they could drink Skynyrd under the table, but never have any of Skynyrd's good drugs. La Grange is the obvious big song here, but I'm glad I was introduced to the first two songs. Jesus may have left Chicago, but that lil'ol' band from Texas had enough tricks in their beards to warrant two albums appearing on this list.

It's sort of the epitome of what this list is all about. I would argue that it's absolutely one of the albums everyone should listen to at least once before shuffling off to the great beyond. That isn't to say you'll like it. I'm not even sure if I liked it or would bother listening again. I do know there's no album like this, and was happy to hear it. Something like a hip hop DJ trying to update jazz.

Not as earth shattering as Jim Kerr thinks it is. Simple Minds belongs on this list, but not for this album (I'm a sucker for "Once Upon A Time").

A suitable swan song, as well as a great example as to why no album should be over 40 minutes long. Especially from a band fronted by Morrissey. But a solid benefit of a 34 minute run time is affording one time for an immediate re-listen to make sure it was good as the first time. The re-listen confirmed (to me, at least) that Morrissey clearly murdered that girlfriend who was in a coma.

Proof that not every stage star should record an album. A voice that gyrates between annoying and awful with all of the appeal of fingernails scraping a chalkboard. This has a William Shatner meets William Hung element to it.

The album that made Jimmy Page hate the press, simply because they couldn't understand why Zep went acoustic. Probably Cameron Crowe's favorite Zeppelin album. The highs (Immigrant Song, That's The Way, Tangerine) really soar, and are among the best of their catalog. The rest is something of a mixed bag, and a foretaste of the feast to come on the next album...

She thinks she's Kate Bush, but she's actually more Melanie of "Brand New Key" fame. This particular album will always have a special place with me. When I was a college DJ for an alternative music radio station in 1992, I used to play "Me and a Gun" during my on-air shift. I'd go out of my way to play it because there just wasn't anything like it (and frankly hasn't been anything like it since then either). No other radio station would go near that song. Tori Amos doesn't sound like Melanie or Kate Bush or anyone else on that song.

This list did the Brothers Gibb wrong. What do they have against the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack? Instead, we get the Brothers Gibb back when they were trying to be the Hollies making their own Sgt. Pepper. And it works about as well as you'd think it would, which is to say, not at all. There isn't a Barry Gibb falsetto note to be found. Instead, there's too much Robin on lead vocals and multiple instrumental songs. I'm all for honoring the pre-disco incarnation of the Bee Gees, but this clearly isn't it.

Thirteen year old me from 1983 would proudly announce that Side 2 is perfect, especially if you got it on cassette with "Murder By Numbers" as the last song. The two Synchronicity songs that bookend Side 1 are bangers. The issue lies with throwing a bone to Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland, especially on the dreadful "Mother" on which Summers actually sings lead. No wonder Sting wanted to go solo, there's no need for that shit. But Copeland and Summers brought out the best of Sting. Seven classics (eight if you include the aforementioned Murder By Numbers, which is a wonderful throwaway that proves Sting had a fully functional sense of humor). I eventually wore out that cassette from playing and rewinding Side 2 so many times, listening for hours on end. I went as long as I could, and considering Sting's notorious practice of tantric sex, that seems appropriate.

Most of your favorite Creedence songs are on this album, at least the ones you remember from the movies. I personally ride hard for "Ramble Tamble" and find "Who'll Stop The Rain" to be close to perfect. We should probably talk about the album cover, as we always should when it comes to Creedence. Yes, John is trying to be coy by hiding on the drum kit, but he's not fooling anyone. That's his subtle way of letting the world know he's responsible for everything on this album. I'm guessing this is the only picture of actual drummer Doug Clifford on a ten-speed bicycle. I can't even get into his outfit. I'm blaming John Fogerty for that fashion faux pas. Doug Clifford deserved better. Fuck it, that wife beater over a short sleeve shirt pushes this thing to a 5 with a bullet.

The highest compliment I could give this album is that I surprisingly didn't hate it. I might even have enjoyed some of it.

Where are all the young dudes?

After this album, all Rod Stewart cared about was making sure everyone knew that he loved soccer and young pussy. The epic title track is Rod's finest hour.

For when you drop acid and suddenly crave Cajun food. Essential listening if your favorite Manning is Archie and your child is named after Bobby Hebert. It's your favorite album if you still harbor resentment towards HBO for canceling Treme, and you completely understand why the Katrina victims refused to move.

Three absolute Declan classics (one of which is a cover and apparently not on the UK version of the album) sprinkled around some lesser known tracks that have never done much for me. The title and cover really turn me off for whatever reason. I guess I just don't care for elephants storming towards me. Just a notch below his first two albums.

I know exactly who you are if this is your all-time favorite album. Your favorite film director is Tim Burton, but you don't want him involved in adapting The Book of Mormon into a movie. Jim Steinman's death hit you harder than you expected. You never considered cigarette smoking a habit and still refer to it as a "hobby". You became a Seattle Mariners fan only because they've never been to the World Series. The only Seattle Mariner you can name is Ichiro. You know that former NFL Running Back Robert Smith is agnostic but refuse to learn where he went to college. You think Anne Rice was overrated but own all of her novels. You remember what getting dumped felt like when you were 21-years old, and you've written it down so you always will. You once started a "Dear John" letter by writing "By the time you read this, I'll already be dead" just for shock value. You shake your head any time you hear a story about Morrissey. Shoplifting.

I'm all on board with anyone advocating for the legalization of cannabis, but this got old in a hurry. As in, after the first 3 tracks. Quite ahead of their time on the whole problem with law enforcement types though.

And here I thought it was Adam Duritz who wanted to be Bob Dylan. This dude is trying a little too hard to sound like Zimmerman.

One if those albums where I couldn't help but think that every song was about Olympia Dukakis. That has to be some sort of complement because daddy loves this album. So much so that I've taken to referring to myself as daddy.

If Nirvana is grunge's Michael Jordan, Soundgarden is the genre's Karl Malone. Their music is decent enough, maybe a handful of their songs hold up, but nothing legendary. This is probably as good as it gets for Soundgarden. Chris Cornell fronted bands with awful names. I hope that didn't add to his depression.

Great mix of Buddy Holly & The Crickets, The Dave Clark Five, the disco Era Brothers Gibb, B-52's and Midnight Oil. This is a band I know I could be a member of immediately. I'd be like that dude from The Mighty Mighty Bosstones who didn't play an instrument or sing, and was only there to dance.

A compelling collage of sounds that for the most part works. I just don't want to know how the sausage was made, for I fear it's just a couple of kids who've mastered Audacity or Pro Tools.

Helplessly boring. Fans of this album enjoy vanilla ice cream, Ted Lasso, and Nancy Myers movies featuring Diane Keaton. They eschew hot sauce and profanity. Any dude who claimed to like this album only did so in an effort to seem "sensitive" and get laid. The jig didn't last, as they soon realized any woman who claimed to like this album doesn't put out.

Suggests that Dennis was the George Harrison of the Beach Boys. I actually prefer this over two of the Beach Boys albums on this list. And if you really want to go on a ride, peruse Dennis Wilson's Wikipedia page. That thing is a RIDE! Aside from the entire section on Charles Manson, you get to learn (or recall) that Dennis dated Fleetwood Mac's Christine McVie (who claimed Dennis Wilson was "half little boy, half insane"), and often told friends he was raped by a black man. But hell, aren't all of the Wilsons at least half insane?

Shame on the list for wanting to steal 1 hour and 9 minutes of my wicked little life. But I maintained the upper hand: I stopped even trying to listen after what seemed like the 15th song.

For those who can't afford the Beatles or the Stones, or a stereo.

A few too many ballads, but the fast songs slap, especially "Freedom '90", which might be better than any song on "Faith". If George Michael really wanted to be taken seriously, he should have sought a career outside of pop music. Instead he seemed laser-focused on distancing himself from Andrew Ridgeley and Wham! and all "I Want Your Sex". I for one love Wham! and "Faith". I just wish George Michael did, too.

Something of an incomplete grade, since it was impossible to find the complete album anywhere. Amazon Music suggests the entire album is available, but only allows for the same handful of tunes as the other streaming services. Considering the band's mismanaged history, that's not much of a surprise. The songs I did find are all surprising gems, although as a native Nebraskan, I foolishly hoped for more from a song called "Omaha". It's fitting that a band known for having all the potential in the world but relegated to what-might-have-been status has an album on this list that seemingly no one can listen to in its entirety.

Maybe I didn't have the right amount of Molly.

She's more Alison Krauss than Taylor Swift. I mean, Musgraves claims that she wrote two of the best songs while tripping on LSD. That's something Taylor would never fess up to even if it were true (somewhat related: I can't imagine what songs Taylor would compose on LSD, but I'm sure cats and Jake Gyllenhaal would be involved somehow). If I ever get the chance to drop acid, I want Kacey Musgraves to be my guide. I'm alright with a slow burn.

This is the band that knows the simple joys involved with hanging around long enough for Last Call. Nothing quite beats People Watching, and the Mats might have invented it. Why go home when Gary's popped himself a boner and all that's waiting for you is an answering machine? And besides, Tommy's worried about having his tonsils removed. Bonus points for the Peter Buck guitar solo on "I Will Dare" and a great Kiss cover. Ride for the Deluxe edition to enjoy more covers.

It's like everyone decided to will this album into being great. Maybe some folks thought the Quiet Riot pun was clever.

You can draw a straight line from R.E.M. to Pavement to Wilco. Or to be more specific, from Murmur to Crooked Rain to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. They're all classics. This is the Pavement album for those who like the Eagles and can appreciate bands like Stone Temple Pilots and the Smashing Pumpkins being taken down a peg. It's also a decent argument that Stephen Malkmus is the Donald Fagan of the indie-rock scene. Pavement's first two albums are both justifiably on this list, and this is the one that I prefer. Don't @ me.

For those who wish Wes Anderson directed every movie. I'm a huge fan of The Kinks, but this is not their finest hour. I have to think "Sunny Afternoon" is the only reason it made the list. Sunny Afternoon aside, it's something of a snooze.

Gross. But mainly overly unpleasant.

What it feels like to step into a warm bath.

As always with the Chili Peppers, you've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find the princes. The gems here are among the best they've ever done. My favorite track is a lesser known one, "I Could Have Lied". I loved it so much I used to play it during my on-air shift on college radio station 90.3 KRNU. The CD we had included an edited version of the song, which featured a guitar riff played during the line, "I fucked up now" to block the profanity. This still isn't my favorite Chili Pepper album (that honor may forever belong to "By The Way", although I tend to ride hard for "One Hot Minute" as well). A big part of me wants to push this to a 5, but there are just too many skips. A five doesn't ask you to kiss that many frogs.

What it sounded like to get a massage in 1996 without a happy ending.

Randy Newman can be a tough putt for a lot of people. Sometimes I think he's going for shock appeal more than anything. I find a lot of his songs to be brilliant, although I hate his soundtrack work. Overall this has moments, particularly the song written by Huey Long that features members of the Eagles. And I'm all for anyone sticking it to rednecks. Just don't put this album on if you're expecting to get laid.

Laura Nyro should have been as popular and adored as Linda Ronstadt. In a way, she was Linda Ronstadt before Linda Ronstadt, the biggest difference being that Laura wrote all of her own songs. Ironically enough, most of those songs became huge hits for other artists, especially The Fifth Dimension. Nyro was somewhat press shy - you can't find any old televised appearances of her anywhere. But my word, did she write some perfect pop songs. Unfortunately Nyro didn't live long enough to see the acclaim that eluded her in life, such as being elected to the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. But we still have the music, and all of those incredible songs. Laura Nyro knew that was ultimately all that mattered.

Second Acts, or careers, are normal. Some are built out of necessity. Look no further than one Kenneth Charles Osmond. He was so identified with his brilliant performance as one of the more iconic characters in television history that he had no choice but to retire from acting altogether (save for reboots which allowed him to slip right back into the Eddie Haskell character) and become a police officer. And imagine how Ken Osmond must have felt when he first heard that kid who starred as that "Little Squirt" channeling all of his anger towards law enforcement on popular music. Tony Dow must have rolled his eyes every time he'd hear the Beave call Larry Mondello fat. But we should give Beaver credit for at least waiting until Hugh Beaumont died before embarking on a new, albeit controversial career. Barbara Billingsley approved, but that wasn't surprising given how well versed she was in speaking jive. It was still shocking for millions of fans to learn Beaver Cleaver grew up so angry and hurt. Oops. I'm sorry. I thought this was The Jerry Mathers LP.

If you ever want to understand or explain Gen X, just listen to "Smells Like Teen Spirit". There are so many lines that could serve as a motto for Generation X. "Here we are now, entertain us." Or my favorite, "Oh well. Whatever. Nevermind." Yes, this is the one that fulfilled all the promises of grunge, underground and indie music, as Nirvana blended all of their influences, from John Lennon to the Pixies and the Meat Puppets, in ways that spoke to the masses. But I think more than that, it was the perfect Gen X signifier. One of the more surprising things on relistening is how there are no skips. The only skippable song is the closing track, "Endless, Nameless". But since it's the final song, you really don't need to skip it as much as you can just stop listening to the album. Whether or not that was Kurt Cobain's intention, stopping the album in the middle of the last song is another Gen X trait. Oh well, whatever. Nevermind.

Thankfully the version I listened to had the single edit versions of the Wall On By and By The Time I Get To Phoenix covers. This album just left me wanting to hear Isaac Hayes cover Wichita Lineman.

Probably need time to marinate, which is fine since I intend to listen again to most of it. Right now this is everything I'm looking for in an album that's new to me. I thoroughly enjoyed all of the songs that didn't remind of me of Coldplay.

Amish thrash metal, which is...a choice? It avoids a one rating, which is about the biggest compliment I can give it.

I'd like to live in this album. I need to live in this album. Just an all around party.

This is probably the album Zach Braff plays in an attempt to make people think he's deep. He's not.

I've just been informed that I've been doing this little exercise for an entire calendar year now. And one of my favorite parts is when you get an unfamiliar album that's so fucking good, without any skips, that you just let Spotify take the controls and keep serving up similar music after the album ends (which is why Spotify is my preferred platform for listening to these). So I, ahem, Get It On (a song not on this album) to the sound of Old T. Rex as the album closes with the great "Main Man", and the follow up song is..."Summer In The City" by The Lovin' Spoonful? I had to assume the Spotify Algorithm was drunk, but then I got to hear the aforementioned Bang A Gong (Get It On) followed by some freaking Moody Blues, and a trippy tune called "Barabajagal" by Donovan (featuring Jeff Beck). This is a long way to say that perhaps T. Rex defies definition in some circles, and might be one reason why it took so long for Marc Bolan's band to finally get elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. This one's an absolute banger that I'll likely regret not bumping up to a 5.

"Cold Cuts" is the episode of The Sopranos where Carmella Soprano and Rosalie Aprile take a girls trip to Paris. While his wife is away, Tony gets himself a blow job while driving his SUV. When he's done, his favorite radio station plays "Simple Man", which is the last song on Side 1 of this album. Nothing on The Sopranos ever happened by accident, and there was almost always a meaning behind every needle drop. No one made a blow job face quite like the great James Gandolfini, just like no television program or movie did needle drops like The Sopranos. And no band epitomized southern rock like Lynyrd Skynyrd. I think about that scene every time I hear "Simple Man", which is one of the four classic songs on this album everyone knows by heart. Those 4 songs are so ubiquitous, especially "Free Bird", the "Stairway To Heaven" of southern rock. I miss James Gandolfini. And I miss what this band could have been before that fucking plane crash.

So it's a concept album. You know what else is a concept album? "Music From The Elder" by Kiss. That thing isn't anywhere near this list. I wish one could say the same about this album. Maybe I just prefer my Genesis to have the drummer singing lead vocals.

This is the T. Rex you're looking for. The number of classic albums released in both 1971 (and 1972) is simply staggering. I somehow ran 5 miles while listening to this (in the interest of full disclosure, it was the expanded version, I needed the extra padding those bonus songs provided to get to 5 miles). T. Rex should have soared into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame on this album alone.

So who is the most overrated cult band in music history and why is it Kraftwerk? Sometimes I think people overpraise Kraftwerk just because Bowie liked them. Personally they bore the shit out of me within 5 minutes.

Glyn Johns was hot as a pistol in 1972. He'd worked with bands like The Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who and Led Zeppelin, and David Geffen wanted Johns to work his magic on a new band he'd just signed to his new record label, Asylum. Johns was flat out unimpressed when he first saw the Eagles perform. At the time, Bernie Leadon was the band's de facto leader, having been a member of Flying Burrito Brothers. But Glenn Frey's alpha dog personality fought Bernie's influence, so the Eagles weren't sure what the hell kind of band they were at the time, and Johns clearly heard that. But he also heard the magic the band's four voices had when they harmonized. He knew then that the band had something, and he could take all of the promises of the Byrds and the aforementioned Flying Burrito Brothers and solidify the Eagles as the premier country-rock band. That magic is all over this record. Yes, you've heard the three hits ad nauseum. But listened as a part of the album, they all flow together with the vision Johns heard in those gorgeous harmonies. Each band member gets to sing lead on at least 2 songs here. To my ears, the MVP of the album is Randy Meisner, who was always the secret sauce, but never sought publicity and was happy to strum his base while hitting those insane high notes. Randy didn't have the outgoing personality of Frey or Don Henley. Like Leadon, he was content simply being in a band. But the three songs Randy takes lead vocals on here are the best of the non-hits. His song "Tryin" gets my vote for best track on the album. "Tryin" should have been a single, but a follow-up album beckoned. This record got a particular rave review in Rolling Stone when it was released. Reviewer Bud Scoppa called it one of the "best first albums of the year. And I could be persuaded to remove the word 'first' from that statement". That wasn't good enough for Henley and Frey. Glyn Johns would soon be out of the picture. Leadon would quit the band after four albums, followed by Meisner an album later. It was always going to be the Henley/Frey show. It's hard to argue with the success they had, especially in terms of cranking out the hits. But Glyn Johns was correct. The Eagles were at their best when they'd blend those voices into soaring harmonies.

Annoyingly unnecessary.

Destined to be one of the Top Ten highest rated albums on this site. If this list were limited to only one album per artist, you'd have a hard time arguing that this album shouldn't be the one to represent Bowie. Fitting this came up on the FIVE YEAR anniversary of the day I met my wife. Five Years is my favorite Bowie song - Today. Next week, it could be Suffragette City. Or maybe Moonage Daydream. Then it'll probably be Five Years again. Five Years is the Bowie song I never tire of, which makes it the perfect "Side 1, Track 1". We may never fully grasp the impact this album continues to have. I mean, Garth Brooks apparently listened and thought, "...Chris Gaines! Soul Patch!", then committed to an alter ego designed to reach a pop audience. Of course, Chris Gaines was no Ziggy Stardust. No one was or ever will be.

A bit too sterile and melancholy for its own good.

Not as smart or edgy as it thinks it is. Big deal, so they like weed. Who doesn't?

Boy did the press ever try to will this into being acknowledged as the greatest album ever recorded when it first came out. Overhype aside, the album is just fine. It's not going to change your life, and I'm almost envious of those who get to listen with fresh ears minus the fanfare.

Part of me thinks I'll finally quit doing this daily exercise after I score 100 albums with a 5. If I even get to 100. But I still have a lot of Beatles albums to rate, the two Van Halen and Michael Jackson albums I know are getting 5's. I'm currently at 70, and the Fabs, Jacko and VH should push me to 80. That leaves me with 20 surprises, which is what still brings me to this site every day. This is a long way to say that Tangerine Dream does not present a case for being one of those twentysomething surprises.

We can stop looking now. We've found the worst album on this list.

This may not be the best rap album I've listened to on the list so far, but it's probably my favorite. But I mainly want to know more about the friendship Tupac had with Alanis Morissette. Especially the alleged restaurant they were going to own together.

How great would it be to produce this album? No bells or whistles needed. Just sit back and let Billie cook. The epitome of a 3 AM album.

Over stuffed, overly ambitious and gloriously overrated. The best version of Comfortably Numb is the live version from The Departed soundtrack by Roger Waters and Van Morrison. The cannon songs play better as singles than as part of some cohesive concept album. And yet I still like this album for the most part. Maybe it's the presence of one Toni Tenielle on backup vocals. Maybe I'm a sucker for the coked-up vision of Bob Ezrin. It doesn't play as well overall as it does in Roger Waters' mind.

Every generation gets the Janis Ian it deserves. With apologies to Suzanne Vega, Tracy Chapman immediately became Gen X's Janis Ian the moment "Fast Car" was first played on the radio. There was nothing else like it, and soon that song was EVERYWHERE. This album soon followed, and it cut through - and soared above - every trend musically. No one was writing or performing songs like this. It turns out she was discovered by the dude who would one day create and produce the Showtime series Billions, which is just insane. Fast Car is the key track here (Fast Car is a 5). But this album has ten other tracks just as important, which is why this album had no problem reaching the number 1 spot on the Billboard 200 album chart during the era of peak George Michael, Def Leppard and Guns N Roses. Turns out folks can relate to songs that talk about the police always arriving too late if they even bother to arrive at all. Somehow Tracy Chapman was both right on time and way ahead of her time.

People went out of their way to throw hosannas at Norah Jones when this was first released, and then seemingly continued to over-praise it until the world just agreed that Norah was the new Billie Holliday or Ella Fitzgerald. It was all just a bit too much, and waaaaaaaay too soon. But that doesn't take away from the fact that this is a gorgeous debut album. Norah Jones may not be Billie or Ella or Linda Ronstadt, but she certainly seems to be the inspiration for the Sirius XM Channel "The Blend".

Amongst the strain of trying oh-so-hard to give off the impression of just hooking up a mic and recording anything that happens, there's a great power-pop album hiding in here somewhere. There are some gems to be found among the 28 (!) songs. Minus the necessary polish, this gets old in a hurry.

Fans of this album don't need to have their Chuck Norris knowledge acknowledged. They harbor resentment towards the Coen Brothers for lying about Fargo being based on actual events. Don't ask them to explain their body art. You don't have time to hear about their body art. For one thing, they despise the phrase "body art" and just call them "tattoos".

The kids are alright. So is this album. I love The Who, and as great as they were, they just weren't the Stones or the Beatles. No one disputes this. Well, I know ONE person who disputes this, and truly believed The Who were the greatest rock band ever: My English 252 teacher from my second semester of college. Shout out to Jim McWilliams, a heavy set fella who spoke like Elmer Fudd, and not by design. I can't imagine he's still alive. He really was portly and seemed quite proud of that fact to the point he was unwilling to change. Sort of like his stance on The Who. If Professor McWilliams is still with us, I have to think he's still busy justifying how and why Pete Townshend got himself caught in a child-porn scandal. I'm sure no one claimed the kids were alright back then.

I'm not going to lie you. I spent an inordinate amount of time today wondering how Fela Kuti would feel about gas prices. You know, just to see if I get into his thinking space. He wouldn't give two shits about gas prices at any point in history. He'd overhear people griping about gas prices and immediately lose interest. Fela would be more concerned with drivers who fail to yield, and even that concern would be minor. Fela was likely a huge fan of invention, but I'm guessing overall he didn't see the automobile as a necessity for him. He was more concerned with creating a perfect musical landscape, an offshoot of which would suggest listeners take an edible and just live in his music. Fela would have LOVED that. No, gas prices would never be a cause of concern or interest for Fela Kuti. He always had bigger and better themes in mind.

How did The Jam never hit in the States? Peter Weller's next outfit The Style Council certainly did. But The Jam wasn't even remotely popular here. This album was released shortly after "Get The Knack" by The Knack, which was a monster hit here. I hear a lot of similarities. Maybe they were too British for America in 1980. It was our loss, because this is a gem.

So it turns out I just hate that corny joke someone feels the need to make on Facebook every October 1st. And 2004. That was a tough year. Unless you were the Boston Red Sox. Or Green Day. This album fucking slaps. The only thing that keeps it from being branded a 5 is that it's a bit too long. Or at least it feels too long, which is understandable when you have such epic aspirations. Or maybe that annual joke some attention seeking Facebook friend posts every year prevents me for going all in with a 5. But it stands up there with the truly great concept albums, from Sgt. Pepper to Tommy. And I'll take Jesus of Suburbia over that deaf, dumb, blind kid who knew his way around a pinball machine in Tommy any day.

We can't see the forest from the trees. Yet. Maybe it'll grow on me. Parts of it feel like they'll age well. But it's a bit of a snooze. And an annoying snooze at that. It felt like a watered down version of Taylor Swift's two Pandemic albums. Actual rating is 2.5.

I've heard of this dude. Listen: It almost feels sacrilegious to rank this with any number below a 5. It kicks off with arguably the most ubiquitous, important song in rock and/or roll history. That opening snare shot alone, which Springsteen said sounded like "somebody'd kicked open the door to your mind", is enough to warrant a 5 rating. So I gave this entire album a few good listens, thinking it might confirm my off-the-cuff theory that it's overrated. I WANTED it to be overrated. But the thing is almost 60 years old now, and my word does it hold up. Even if it's not my favorite Dylan, it very well could be his best. I'm a bit disappointed to admit that it turns out this masterpiece by Dylan is indeed properly rated.

Brand new artist and album (to me), and I'm already over-the-moon in love after one full listen. I love Neko Case. And I "like" Alison Krauss. But I already know I'd take Nanci Griffith over either of them (although I'll still continue riding hard for Neko). What an unexpected hidden gem. Perhaps the only thing keeping me from rating it a 5 is I don't want to go all the way on the first date.

It's convenient when an album all but screams the rating to you during every song.

It works overall as a concept, even though I was hoping it was based on, or inspired by, the Dudley Moore comedy of the same name and featured a guest appearance by Christopher Cross. It's still a pretty good album to listen to whenever you find yourself caught between the moon and New York City.

Begging to be rediscovered and reevaluated. If Stranger Things had a season set in 1981, the Duffer Brothers could have introduced "Spellbound" to a new generation, and today's youth would turn it into a Top Ten hit just like they're currently doing with "Running Up That Hill" by Kate Bush. This thing is front loaded, throwing 5 consecutive bangers right out of the gate. I hear everything from the B-52's to Polly Jean Harvey in those 5 gems. And then it takes you on a journey, ending with a daring 7 minute track that will alienate the masses. It's in the running for best album of 1981, and it might also be the best B-52's album.

I like a lot of these songs, separately. A little Arcade Fire goes a long way, and an entire album of their work can make you wish it was before the halfway point. The word "overblown" comes to mind.

An audible shot of pure bliss. As an added bonus, it also made me learn that Rod Stewart is a thief, something we all suspected and hoped was true.

This is after their "Classic Five" period, meaning it's missing something. That something is one David Ruffin, the David Ruffin with lead vocals on "My Girl" and "Ain't Too Proud To Beg" and "I Wish It Would Rain". So in a way, this is like having a Commodores album without Lionel Richie. But the Commodores weren't quite the Temptations, of course. Even without Ruffin, the Temptations had another good run in them. But that's after this album. This one is really good, just not quite great.

Essential listening for those who believe "The Firm" is a cinematic masterpiece.

Here's a story I heard several years ago: Brian Wilson (you know, the cat from the Beach Boys) was doing an autograph signing somewhere in Texas. And apparently Don Henley (you know, the dude from the Eagles) was there and thought it would be fun to get Wilson to autograph one of his albums for him. Being the key cogs in legendary "California" bands, Wilson and Henley were familiar with each other and had met previously a few times. So Wilson was delighted to spot Henley show up with an album for him to sign, to the point that he even personalized it. Wilson wrote, "To Don, thanks for all the great music, Brian Wilson". But then he went back, drew a line through the word "great" and wrote "good". They both had a good laugh about that, and legend has it Henley then framed the album and still has it on display in his home. Now I have no idea if any part of that story is a true, but I feel better about the world believing that it's 100 percent accurate. And what does this have to do with SIR Elton John, or his 1971 album Madman Across The Water? I think it has something do with Elton John's legendary appearance at the Troubador in Los Angeles in August, 1970. Henley was there for one of the shows, confirmed in the Eagles Documentary. Brian Wilson was probably home in bed. But Elton John still talks about how "mind-blowing" that whole Troubador experience was and impacted his entire career. This album was recorded a few months after those Troubador appearances, and I can't help but believe that Elton adapted his sound to be more like the "California Sound" that was spreading across America. The fame and adulation he experienced during those performances was a drug that Elton would chase for years. You can hear a lot of that "California" influence on this album. He wanted to be part of that scene.

"This world is bullshit". Boy howdy, did young Fiona Apple get grilled over making that statement all the way back in 1997. The world was not quite ready for such honesty from a young musical genius. But people just lost their collective shit because she accepted an MTV Music Video Award by telling everyone a simple truth. That moment has certainly aged well. And so has this incredible debut album. We should have known that Fiona's best work was ahead of her (culminating in her most recent masterpiece, Fetch The Bolt Cutters). This was just a foretaste of the feast to come. The world Fiona Apple called out will always be bullshit. This album is not.

Up With People is a 5. The songs that remind me of Beck are okay. Props for naming the band after a Sherry Lewis puppet.

More like Subpar Group, am I right? Their hits are ubiquitous, and some, like "Feel Like Making Love" are classics. But they are what Bill Murray might call a medium talent. Bad Company is fine, this album is decent but nothing spectacular. If you were seeding classic rock bands like the NCAA Basketball Tournament, Bad Company would be something like a 14 seed. But hey, at least they'd make the tournament.

Both overrated and great. Is it the 42nd greatest album of all-time like Rolling Stone suggests? Christ no. It's somewhere in the Top 250, as long as it's behind Kid A. It's aged quite well, and likely will continue to do so. My favorite track is "Let Down", and I wish the album was more like that classic Radiohead work of art. Actual rating is a 4.5.

The lead singer used to bang Kate Hudson. My favorite Black Crowes song is "Remedy", which isn't on this album. They never fulfilled all of those early promises proclaiming they were the next Rolling Stones. Turns out they weren't even the next Aerosmith. This album hit big at around the only time in music history when it could have an impact. The whole musical landscape, particularly the idea of rock music, would change dramatically the following year.

I bet I would have enjoyed this a lot more had I listened on Spotify. Or heroin.

Not as appealing as his Jerry Mathers album. This has too much of a Kid Rock feel to it.

This is the Adele the cemented her diva status. Back when she was still hungry and hurt and full of ambition. Beyond Adele's heartbreak and exceptional voice, the secret sauce here is producer Rick Rubin. Apparently only something like 5 of the songs Rubin produced made the album, none of which became hits. But these songs shape the album, and are the ones that remind me of Amy Winehouse and great Motown songs. I find myself longing to hear the Rick Rubin produced versions of the five ubiquitous worldwide hits. They're probably similar to the ones we all know by heart, and only Adele can hear the differences.

Perfect for fans of vanilla ice cream, How I Met Your Mother, generic drugs, well liquor, and overall boredom in general.

Seventeen year old me would waste no time enthusiastically rating this a 5. Fifty-two year old me thinks 17-year old me is an idiot. This album just doesn't hold up at all, and gets incredibly annoying after only a few songs. I'm almost embarrassed by how much I once loved this. But, as Red from The Shawhank Redemption might say, I was a young, stupid kid. I wanna talk to him. I wanna try to talk some sense to him. Tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone and this old man is all that's left. I gotta live with that. I'll split the difference, since I enjoy the other Beastie Boys albums on this list, and for the 17-year old kid stuck in Hicksville, USA who wore out the cassette of this album from playing and rewinding "No Sleep Til Brooklyn" ad nauseum. That cassette wasn't meant to last, but it turns out the Beastie Boys were.

This album was pretty good until I started listening to it while watching the movie "Pig" starring Nicolas Cage. I realize that syncing this album to any Nicolas Cage film was not part of the assignment, but maybe it should have been. It made me realize the lead singer of Elbow sounds a lot like Seal. But kids, watching Nic Cage go to Portland in search of some stolen pet pig with Elbow playing in your earbuds (starting with track 5) puts this album in a whole new light. And that this album is, like Nicolas Cage, a tad overrated. Spoiler alert: The pig was dead before Cage even got to Portland, but uou can see that plot twist coming a mile away. Just like the aforementioned seldom seen kid. Don't @ me.

In the interest of full disclosure, I was hoping the generator gave everyone "Born In The USA" on July 4th, just to be clever. Chuck D was a hero to many, but he never meant shit to me. That's not a diss, sort of like how the Elvis line in "Fight The Power" wasn't a complete diss. I just didn't know shit about Public Enemy until I was exposed to Rosie Perez dancing to "Fight The Power" during the opening credits of "Do The Right Thing". What an introduction to the world for Rosie Perez! Director Spike Lee says he got the inspiration to open Do The Right Thing from Ann Margaret singing and dancing in Bye Bye Birdie. Rosie outdoes the legendary Ann Margaret in her iconic dance sequence. Ann Margaret is forever linked to Elvis, and because of Chuck D's infamous line in "Fight The Power", so is Public Enemy. Chuck D is my favorite rapper. I just love his voice. Flavor Flav is probably my least favorite. But Chuck D's voice is so powerful it makes Flavor Flav's impact on me a non-factor. But I always go back to Rosie Perez owning that moment, dancing and shadowboxing to "Fight The Power" to let us know that "Do The Right Thing" is no ordinary movie. Fight The Power was the result of Spike Lee reaching out to public enemy to create a song for his film. It's just the perfect marriage of music and film. And this album proves that one can appreciate both Elvis and Public Enemy. Maybe this was the most appropriate album for the 4th of July after all.

Evan Dando and his beautiful head of hair knows how to craft perfect pop songs. He's proof that all of us gorgeous people can be talented, too. Bonus points for the appearance of the underappreciated Juliana Hatfield, and that terrific cover of Mrs. Robinson.

Masturbation has never lost its fun with me so I really couldn't relate to this album.

What separates Kanye from other rap artists is his sense of humor, sense of play, and his ear for good music. This is great time capsule for all of us to revisit when Kanye is elected President of the United States in 2024. It's not we haven't elected a narcissist before...

Definitely a product of its time that still holds up. This album was beyond huge when it was released, ruling the charts for almost 2 years. Fun fact: I got to see Peter Frampton open for Steve Miller in 2018. Frampton covered "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden in a huge tribute to Chris Cornell, and of course played the three big hits from this album. It should have been the other way around. Steve Miller should have been opening up for the legendary Peter Frampton.

Wherein everyone pretends the world didn't once try to anoint this dude as the next Bob Dylan. Those same critics used Ryan Adams' cancel culture moment as an excuse to realize they overrated him, that he wasn't ever going to fulfill all of the broken promises of Jeff Buckley, and that in truth he was just Jack Johnson with cooler fans. His best album is the track for track cover of Taylor Swift's 1989. His best song (When The Skies Go Blue) was covered better by a slew of different artists. Ryan Adams is fine - his music is fine, at least. He just wasn't what the music press (and people like Judd Apatow) wanted him to be.

Their version of "Sweet Thing" featuring snippets of "Blackbird" by The Beatles is splendid. Needs more of that magic. Everything else sounds like outtakes from that scene in Titanic when Rose and Jack do an Irish Jig with members of the Third Class before having uncomfortable sex in a car.

They're only on this list because Nirvana and Metallica liked them.

Somehow, this all works. I get that Kraftwerk is beyond inspirational, and I'm pleased to have listened to this uninterrupted. But I'll probably file this under "Enjoyed, it's good, and I'll probably never seek it out again".

Revisionist history from the masses, who seemingly have written this album off ever since they learned Morrissey is an insufferable prick. I'm guessing that Morrissey has always been an asshole. He was probably more of a prick when he recorded this album than he has been in recent years. Perhaps these feelings towards Morrissey's personality have allowed listeners to realize this isn't that great of an album. The best song on the album, or at least the American version of this album, is "How Soon is Now?". It's not on the original version, but that song along is worth one rating point. It wasn't on the version in the Spotify link here, so I'm grading accordingly. It turns out I prefer Morrissey's solo output over a lot of the Smiths music I've listened to so far.

Perfect for those of us who enjoy hallucinogenic journeys and pussy.

There's an ever growing group of people who have decided that getting Devo in the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame is the hill they're willing to die on. This group seemingly gets louder every year, and their argument always seems to be something like, "It's insane Devo isn't already in the hall." No, it's really not. For one, the Hall seemingly has a pretty easy process to determine election: An artist is eligible for induction 25 years after their debut album. That's a reasonable amount of time to build a body of work, and long enough to the point where voters would surely know whether or not an artist is Hall Of Fame worthy. And what's Devo known for, other than "Whip It" and it's quirky music video? Maybe an interesting Stones cover? This is a decent enough album, it sounds about ten years before its time. But let's stop pretending that Devo was something more than A Flock Of Seagulls with better press. Apparently Bowie and Iggy Pop were really into Devo and clamored to produce this album. Let's not forget Bowie and Iggy were also really into coke around that time, too. So I guess what I'm trying to say is I would have enjoyed this more if I knew the right coke dealer.

Would anyone even know this album (or band) existed if Kurt Cobain didn't sing its praises? It's a fair question. Nirvana, and especially Cobain, were such a huge curiosity when they broke big that the music press went out of their way to find out what made Cobain tick to the point that any artist he cited as an inspiration were then equally dissected. If Nirvana are the Beatles of grunge, then Mudhoney is the genre's Bill Haley. Mudhoney's debut EP became popularly known as the starting point of grunge, but that one is a tough listen. Like the Beatles, Nirvana's music still seems timeless, where this album sounds exactly like 1991 or '92. That's not a bug as much as it is a feature. Every genre needs its very own Big Bang moment, and Mudhoney was at the very least the spark that ignited Nirvana's bang.

Every television station should break into severe weather coverage with the chorus of "Stormy Weather". I can't believe this hasn't already happened. Chalk it up to society's loss. Maybe not the best Pixies album, but that doesn't mean it isn't great. I credit SNL alum Garrett Morris, who apparently lived in the same apartment complex that the band was living in at the time.

As close to perfection as you'll find on an album. Pare this list down to 101 albums and "Tapestry" would absolutely remain on it. There's nothing showy here, just a brilliant singer-songwriter who paid her dues and was finally afforded the opportunity to record the best album she could. The result is something that contains all the feel of the early 1970's while remaining timeless. For me the centerpiece has always been "It's Too Late", which remains the quintessential break-up song. Tapestry remains something of an anthem for white women in particular, but everyone relates to "It's Too Late".

Sounds -- and looks -- like something from the cutout or bargain bin. That band name isn't doing them any favors. Neither is the music.

Has more of an Ocean's Twelve feel than I expected, and I am here for all of it. An overall joy.

The greatest version of Desperado, period (featuring non other than Don Henley on background vocals). A cover of a Nine Inch Nails song that somehow becomes one of The Man In Black's greatest songs (its no longer a Trent Reznor song, it's forever a Johnny Cash song). Cash and producer Rick Rubin come close to doing the same to a Depeche Mode classic. Fiona Apple sings with Cash on Bridge Over Troubled Water. Billy Freaking Preston shows up to tickle the ivories on a couple of tracks. Some of Tom Petty's Heartbreakers contribute, along with a Chili Pepper, Nick Cave, and the great Marty Stuart. But it's still Johnny Cash who makes it all work, his voice huskier than ever, sometimes sounding like he's singing at his own funeral, ready to shuffle off his mortal coil at the end. The ultimate victory lap to cement his legend, the last album released while Johnny Cash was alive. It's the perfect swan song.

The best Byrds album? I prefer having Gram Parsons in the mix, but this works.

Released during their imperial phase, at least an imperial phase as far as Sonic Youth goes. I love the band's infatuation with Karen Carpenter, which ultimately led to their most recognizable song, a cover of "Superstar". This is the one that firmly established the band as the Fleetwood Mac of noise music. Their orchestra of sound all flows together seamlessly, serving as a blueprint for many imitators. Few if any captured similar success.

It all ends with President Kayne West holding the nuclear codes, doesn't it?

Perfect for when you're craving a hangover but don't want the empty calories that come from drinking 15 Jack & Cokes.

One of the more surprising things this exercise has given me is an appreciation for the sourpuss known as Tom Waits. I find him to be a better songwriter - and vocalist, Waits almost sounds like Howlin' Wolf - than Leonard Cohen, and I've even come around to enjoying his versions over the covers made famous by other artists (See: Eagles, "Ol' 55"; Springsteen, "Jersey Girl"). The songs were Tom Waits lets loose here really slap. There are apparently 5 Tom Waits Albums on the list. Seems high? Maybe. But those 5 do not include his debut album "Closing Time", which to my ears is his best album. This one isn't far behind. Your mileage may vary when it comes to Tom Waits, but I find it's always best to just sit back and let that motherfucker take you on a journey.

Two perfect pop songs that have stood the test of time. And considering how fucked up these four band members were at the time, that's quite an accomplishment. Credit has to go to producer Lou Adler and all around great guy John Phillips Considering the wild accusations detailing what an absolute horrible father Phillips was, he clearly doesn't deserve the moniker of Papa. But that doesn't make him any less of a songwriter, just like OJ Simpson is no less of a running back. The Mamas and Papas were more of a singles group than an album group. All the filler on this album proves it. But Monday Monday and California Dreaming will live forever.

Didn't make a dent upon release, until Kurt Cobain, PJ Harvey and Billy Corgan sang its praises and suddenly every music critic went back and branded this as the Sgt. Pepper of alternative and grunge. Bonus points for the spoken interludes between (and during) some songs, and the quintessential Pixies song, "Where Is My Mind?" which has become somewhat overused by Hollywood. It's a decent enough effort, there are certainly better Pixies albums (like the follow up to this one). It's just not the Holy Grail Kurt Cobain thought it was.

It's here because it has two of the most ubiquitous, quintessential songs in the entire rock cannon. Interesting how Sweet Emotion has become more of a legacy song for the band (I credit it's appearance at the beginning of Richard Linklater's Dazed and Confused), but Walk This Way still slaps. Everything else begs to be skipped. The Toxic Twins were just Glimmer Twin wannabes.

The final four songs alone make this a classic. Hell, what she does with Kris Kristofferson's "Me and Bobby McGee" is enough to earn a place in history. Do we overrate Janis because she was one of the original members of the 27 Club? I don't know, man. Few songs have the magic "Me and Bobby McGee" does. Few singers could record an accapella song, title it "Mercedes Benz" and compel their record label to release it as a single. It's hard to determine where Janis Joplin's career would have gone if she didn't rely on the needle so much. This woman wasn't designed to live long - she was living too hard for that to be even a remote possibility. But if I had to endure the bullying she did from the likes of future Dallas Cowboy coach Jimmy Johnson for most of her youth, I'd probably drown myself in a bottle of Southern Comfort and shoot heroin, too.

I'm surprised Nashville hasn't built a Mount Rushmore of Country Music. Seems like something they'd be all freaking over. We'll do the easy work for them here in terms of selecting the 4 figures on Mount Country Music. Johnny Cash and Hank Williams are slam-dunk no-brainers. And I believe the third obvious choice is one Willie Hugh Nelson. They'd probably complain about having to put a bandana on his head, and they'll be jokes about how Willie should also be displayed smoking a joint, but no Mount Rushmore is complete with him. The argument could begin and end with the fact that Willie Nelson wrote "Crazy". Mic drop. And if that's not enough, allow me to present to you a concept album he recorded entitled "Red Headed Stranger". Great simple storytelling music that showcases what made Willie Nelson a legend, including the quintessential version of "Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain" where Ol' Willie even one-ups Hank Williams. As for that 4th person on the Mount Rushmore of Country Music...the internet would absolutely explode if it isn't Dolly Parton. Fuck that. I'd take Loretta Lynn or Emmylou Harris over Dolly. Also acceptable: George Jones, Tammy Wynette, Merle Haggard, and an argument could be made for Patsy Cline. It'd be fitting to have her next to the pot smoking, bandana wearing hillbilly/hippie who wrote her signature song.

It still slaps, and there isn't one skippable song. That's right, the album tracks are just as good as the singles - and there were a ton of singles released from this gem. In the interest of full disclosure, 13 year old me wore the shit out of this record, which might play into my continued appreciation for it. Interesting how "Church Of The Poisoned Mind" has become more of a legacy song for Culture Club over "Karma Chamelon". The secret weapon is backup singer Helen Terry, whose voice perfectly complements Boy George's blue-eyed soul. The epitome of a great pop album. Anyone who disagrees secretly has a problem with androgynous people.

The only jazz album you'll ever need. Shave this list down to 100 albums and this one has to remain. It doesn't matter if jazz isn't your thing. This transcends genre. Even if you're a cynic, just get high and put on some Miles.

Too many albums on this list from an artist who still stubbornly refuses to allow his music to be made available on the most popular streaming service in the world. Of course I love Ol' Neil, but according to my Amazon Music algorithm, I now love him more than any other artist and listen to him exclusively. It's a good thing the majority of his albums are great. This one is merely very good.

Overall, it's too woke for its own good. I liked, if not loved, a lot of it. But it comes across ultimately as over stuffed if not over long. I have a sneaky suspicion this will be remembered as a product of its time more than anything else.

More annoying than pleasant. A majority of it sounds like Jimmy Buffet trying to lead a Ska Band.

More enjoyable than a lot Irish/celtic albums offered up on the list. Of course, this album will be forever known for the infectious "Come On Eileen", a once in a lifetime banger that shot to number one in the US during a remarkably competitive year. It also branded Dexys Midnight Runners as one-hit wonders in America. This album suggests they were more than that, although don't listen to the wan covers of "T.S.O.P." or "Jackie Wilson Said" for inspiration. They deserved to have greater success here in the States, but I don't believe Dexys should have multiple albums on the list. This one can stay.

Before they became known for Dad Rock. You know who kept Jeff Tweedy and Wilco from becoming full on dad rockers? Philip Seymour Hoffman lookalike Jay Bennett. He was just arty enough to keep things interesting. This is actually my fourth favorite Wilco album (after their masterpiece "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" and two post Bennett albums that lean more on the Dad Rock side, "A Ghost Is Born" and "Sky Blue Sky"). That says more about Wilco's surprisingly long career than it does this album. But this opens with one of Wilco's best tracks. But "Misunderstood" actually sounds better live. Here, it serves as a foretaste of the feast to come on their NEXT album.

This list done the Brothers Gibb wrong. Oh sure, they have two albums here, but truth be told, neither belong, and this one only warrants merit for the timeless opening song (which some may argue, was covered better by the likes of Al Green). It's just a horrible sample size does nothing to showcase why the Bee Gees were once the biggest recording act in the world. And their disco era hits hold up much better than anything on the two albums on this list. An exception was made to put a classic Christmas album on this list because it was produced by Phil Spector. So it's a bit baffling that a similar exception wasn't made to make room for the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack, which is more or less a Bee Gees album anyway. Brothers Gibb bangers like "Jive Talkin'" and "You Should Be Dancing" and "Night Fever" are classics that should be recognized here. And besides, "How Deep Is Your Love" is a much better song than "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart". The lesson here is that a convicted murderer gets more respect from this list than Barry Gibb's falsetto does.

An overall delight, with shades of the great Sam Cooke. This is just loaded with hit after hit. The ideal album for those who can't give their love to just one person.

Actually started out extremely song before heading off a cliff towards the end. Those first three songs are bangers, and it's almost like the band felt that was all the album needed. Not for nothing, but the band's name bothers the shit out of me. So does the lead singer.

I used to work with a woman named Shayla, who was MAYBE 4 foot 9 inches in heels. And that's if we're being generous. Whenever she'd walk by, one of my cubicle mates would sing "Shayla, I can talk to you on my knees, Shayla." Again, this was in an office, not grade school. Good times. My cubicle mate justified it by saying, "I'm allowed to sing that. I'm not very tall either." Shayla was married to a jovial and quite tall fella who I really came to like. It turns out they divorced years later. I wish I could say it was due to the fact that Shayla carried on a wild affair with Billy Barty, but the time lines don't match. Shayla did have a suitor who she eventually left her tall husband for. But guess what? That jilted fucker remained jovial and tall. So in a fun, ironic twist, Shayla's husband reacted the same way that George Harrison did when he heard about Clapton having the hots for his wife. He didn't give a shit.

It has its place, and that place is in the cutout bin.

I got the greatest compliment in 1994 while standing in line waiting to get in to a downtown bar in Lincoln, Nebraska. An attractive black woman looked at me with elevator eyes and said, "Damn, look at that ass. I bet you could fry an egg on that ass." I don't even know what that means. I never really thought I had much of an ass. But I love eggs, especially fried ones. I should have tried picking up that sassy woman. I bet she would have rocked my world, and you're goddamn right we would have fried eggs in the morning. Such was the mood in 1994. We were all as horny as this album. Hell, maybe this album is the reason we were all horny (it was literally playing everywhere, the thing is loaded with bangers, including a horny cover of a horny Prince song). Maybe I thought that fried egg loving black girl was out of my league. Maybe I was taking TLC's advice: I didn't go chasing waterfalls; I stuck with the easy putts. I remember taking a woman named Kimber to see The Specialist starring Sylvester Stallone and Sharon Stone. We went and had wild sex on her kitchen floor afterwards while "Digging on You" played on her stereo. I never saw her again. But "Digging on You" will always be our song.

Oh, how clever, he just names all of his albums "PETER GABRIEL". This is the one with his best song, which has been co-opted too many times in mediocre movies and movie trailers. It's also the album where he sound like Randy Newman on a couple of songs. Frankly, I like my Bob Ezrin produced albums to be a little more coked out than what we get here. Especially one from the 1970's.

The ultimate Manic Pixie Dream Girl Soundtrack.

More like, "UB white boys singing reggae," am I right?

This also syncs well with many key episodes of your favorite prestige era television dramas, including but not limited to: Mad Men: Far Away Places Breaking Bad: Mandala The Sopranos: Calling All Cars and/or Join The Club Severance: Defiant Jazz The Leftovers: It's a Matt, Matt, Matt, Matt World Deadwood: The Catbird Seat Better Call Saul: Marco Succession: Too Much Birthday Twin Peaks, Season 3 (Choose Your Own Adventure) That's a small sample size, but the length of most of these episodes is almost similar to that of the full album.

The title track sure has legs. Too bad one can't say the same for the instrumental tracks that conclude the album. My hot take is that "Let's Dance" is a better Bowie album and this one is only here because of that aforementioned title track. But this is the album that finally made me Google "Did David Bowie really have different colored eyes". There appears to be some sort of consensus that Bowie had something called anisocoria, which means he didn't have different colored eyes, but instead had different sized pupils. You can clearly see that here on the album cover, but that doesn't mean Bowie didn't also have different colored eyes. It certainly seems like an idea he'd embrace to the point that it wouldn't have surprised me to learn he went out of his way to wear different colored contact lenses. That doesn't make Bowie a hero as much as it just adds to his continuous mystique.

Surely the favorite album of those three teenagers Suzanne Stone (Nicole Kidman) manipulates into murdering her husband in the movie "To Die For". Especially Joaquin Phoenix's character. It feels like an album that would inspire a kid like that.

It's a win only if it makes me masturbate gloomily. Achievement unlocked!

A John album, but Paul gets to share lead vocals with him on the perfect title track. The George song is fine, but he's not trying to take you home as much he's just looking for someone to dance with. Not much for Ringo to do, although he allegedly originated the album's title, which in turn means he originated the movie's title, where he's featured prominently. Plus I enjoy his cowbell on the title track he inspired. This is either the sixth or seventh best Beatles album, but it's a landmark album: the first one where every song was written by Lennon/McCartney. It's also 30 minutes of pure bliss.

This should be everyone's selection on April 1st, because it being included on the list has to be a joke. Worse than awful.

Ideal for those who appreciate samples from Joe Walsh's James Gang period and the movie Strange Days, along with people who see every Spike Jonze film because they really loved his music videos. Three solid bangers that hold up surprisingly well. Everything is is a snooze.

What is the best Stones album and why is it Exile On Main Street? For starters, it's their White Album: Disjointed yet epic; Complicated but ultimately rewarding. It has Sweet Virginia, Tumbling Dice, Loving Cup, and Let It Loose. It allows a strung out Keith Richards to sing lead on a song. The joyful Billy Preston plays both the piano and organ on "Shine A Light". And it all adds up to the closest I'll ever get to the feeling of a heroin and cocaine Speedball.

Just a wondrous joy all around. Makes the idea of losing one's wallet in El Segundo seem downright giddy.

She was veering dangerously close to a Fat Elvis period, only to successfully pull off something of a miracle. It was ahead of its time and blazed a new path for pop music. Further proof that Midge could always pivot and often times be vital.

Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes? But '70's vibes always work for me.

I keep wanting to compare it to IV, which isn't fair because IV (or ZOSO or untitled or whatever we're officially calling it) is perfect from start to finish. This one opens with maybe Zep's greatest song ever, but then it meanders a bit. Do we really need that long drum solo on Moby Dick? We get it, Bonzo was an amazing drummer.

Perfect timing, since I was fantasizing about a smokin' Phoebe Cates coming out of the pool and removing her top. So I guess you could say this was...just what I needed.

This is who Pepe le Péw thinks he is.

The band is appropriately named because they make me want to go out and run around in traffic.

What do these boys have against the poor and landlords anyway?

I'll give him this: His cover of Imagine is miles better than Gal Gadot's.

Proof that San Francisco had the most powerful drugs in the late '60's, since one would need to be under their influence to appreciate this. Not for nothing, but Van Halen's all accapella version of Happy Trails tops the one here that closes the album.

The names Gepetto and Cornelius never really took off. At least not in the United States. Neither did this album. I can take some responsibility since I refused to name my children Gepetto or Cornelius or even NEU!

Look no further to learn why Gene Clark was the true genius behind the Byrds early success. It sure feels like others who died too young like Gram Parsons and Townes Van Zant continue to get hosanas thrown at them from beyond the grave. But you rarely hear such praise heaped on Gene Clark. Maybe he didn't die young enough. Or maybe alcoholism wasn't a sexy enough cause of an early demise. Legend has it that this album's initial lackluster response was a major reason Clark hit the bottle so hard. At least he lived long enough to see his induction in the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame with the Byrds.

Oddly appealing in a Portishead sort of way.

So I'm still in the dark here: Is this dude for or against the legalization of cannibis?

It's only getting an extra point because the queen finally fucking died.

Ol' Neil got real close to the perfect mix here. I envision him licking his finger to use it like a weathervane and thinking his next album needs that little something that only he could think was missing here. But with gems like Down By The River and Cowgirl In The Sand, no one is complaining.

This album made me a bit schizophrenic. Maybe that was the goal. It was a decent album to wash dishes to, only to have the wife come back and complain that I didn't throw away her pancakes.

God how I loved Annie Lennox. It was the orange hair that did it for me, along with her overall presence in the Sweet Dreams video (far be it for me to state the obvious, but Sweet Dreams is an absolute all-time 5). She had my favorite voice since Linda Ronstadt wailed about going back to Blue Bayou. And Eurythmics follow up album to this one had Annie on the cover, shirtless and wearing a Robin mask. I might prefer that album (Touch) to this one, but along with the aforementioned title track, there are plenty of bangers here. I should have made my move on Annie Lennox when I had the chance. Follow up: I never had the chance.

All surface. Rap mechanics in place of depth. But hey, he's a billionaire. Just ask him.

Reminds me why I'll always melt for belly dancers.

Not the Aimee Mann album that should be represented on the list. But it really doesn't matter since all of her solo work sounds the same. Let's be honest: Mann's best moments came from when she fronted 'Til Tuesday (Voices Carry is a 5), and she's a bit overrated as a solo artist because she's good friends with people like film director Paul Thomas Anderson. This isn't too say her efforts are bad. They all mostly fall into the "pretty good" category. Another way to put it is her solo work is fine. The West Coast Elite keeps trying to sell the world on how she's the Joni Mitchell of her generation. Thankfully, no one is buying buying it. I really like Aimee Mann's cover of The Cars' "Drive", but that's not on this album.

Hendrix's White Album. It might also be his masterpiece. No one is allowed to proclaim someone the greatest guitarist of all-time without listening to this album first.

There is a school of people who think anything Kanye does deserves attention. I never attended such a school.

Sounds like a punk band fronted by Cyndi Lauper and featuring the sax player from Men At Work. Which is to say, this thing slaps.

Her most accessible album, and quite possibly her masterpiece (it's either this or Rid Of Me). It's as close as mainstream America finally got to embracing Generation X's Joni Mitchell. It might be due to the fact that Polly Jean sounds happy and playful, at least compared to her earlier work. Polly Jean Harvey deserves to have as many albums on this list as Neil Young and Joni Mitchell. And this one's my favorite.

The Stones and Doors covers were pleasurable. Everything else was something of a snooze.

Irrationally dislike. Look, it's impossible for me to be completely objective when it comes to Coldplay. On the exact day my divorce was final, I found myself attending a Coldplay concert. Coldplay was never one of those bands I was dying to see, but I was vulnerable and someone gave me a ticket. Plus, someone sold me on the idea of how there would be a ton of "hot horny chicks" in attendance. It was a crisp late September evening at an outdoor concert in Kansas. There was cheap reefer being passed around that gave me a headache. Or maybe it was the music. The crowd passed around a huge beachball during "Yellow". The aforementioned "hot horny chicks" were captivated by Chris Martin in a way that reminded me of old videos of women screaming at Elvis or the Beatles at Ed Sullivan, only without anything resembling passion. There was mud everywhere even though it wasn't raining, and someone accidentally spilled a cup of red wine on my shirt. That someone might have been me, who knows. But let's not bury the lead here. Attendees at an outdoor concert were drinking open cups of red wine, which sounds like something that would only happy if Coldplay was the featured performer. The concert ended with "Fix You", which seemed a little too on the nose given the current state of my life. But I knew then that there was no such thing of "Conscious Uncoupling". Call it what it is. It's a fucking divorce, no matter how hard Gwyneth Paltrow wants to spin it. Coldplay will forever be polarizing, which basically means they'll be immortal. Too many people love their red wine and beach balls and Chris Martin. Just like a good portion of us will always think of Coldplay as watered down Radiohead, U2 without, pardon the pun, the "Edge", or the Bizarro Oasis. Hell, some of their songs are easy to like. Don't expect any of them to fix you.

The "Pet Sounds" of Indie Rock. Or maybe it's Indie Rock's "Dark Side Of The Moon" depending on one's theory as to how it syncs up with 9/11. Wilco became somewhat unfairly labeled as "Dad Rock" on subsequent albums (they released at least 3 more great albums after this one). That's probably because their music became more accessible than complex Jeff Tweedy said the goal here was to make something he'd never heard before, instead of sounding like a "really good rock band". Fortunately, the end result is both. Wilco found the perfect marriage of complex and accessible. And we're rewarded by listening to a fantastic rock band exhaust themselves to create their masterpiece.

Anybody else's pee taste weird after listening to this album?

I guess it deserves credit for conjuring images of the series I used to read in MAD Magazine. But it sounds like a big jazz band conducted by Animal from The Muppets with Animal playing every instrument. At the same time. Without any overdubbing.

Note to self: Give this another go the next time you trip on shrooms. Or as the kids say, Microdose. Without my mind expanded, this didn't do anything. Fuckers.

Sounds like if the Bay City Rollers made a punk album. Which is another way of saying it's right in my wheelhouse.

In the running for worst opening song on any album. If you (somehow) don't give up during that dredge, there are a few gems here. But mostly this is the sound of someone a bit full of himself. Rufus takes some mighty big swings here and only occasionally knocks one out of the park. The overall effect is more annoying than innovating, and one wishes Mr. Wainwright would just go back to recording catchy pop songs like his dad used to do.

It's fine. Vanilla Zappa, but it's a relatively decent listen.

What it feels like to take bad ecstacy.

About as good as it ever got as far as an Eric Clapton solo effort is concerned. Credit has to go to the enthusiastic presence of the remarkable Yvonne Elliman. It's her strong backup vocals that cover the inefficiencies of Clapton's. She enjoyed some success as a solo artist after this album's release, and even scored a number 1 song on the Billboard Hot 100. But she should have enjoyed a longer run. It turns out she quit the business for an extended period of time to raise her children. Meanwhile, Clapton kept churning out hit or miss (mostly miss) material, seemingly on the basis that he should remain forever recognized as a "Guitar God" while wrestling with alcoholism, always blaming his destructive behavior on the bottle.

Isn't one Pogues album enough to have on the list? I'm fine with the one with that fun Christmas tune being listed, but this? It's not bad, per se. There are some moments. But I can't help but think it gave us the Dropkick Murphys, which ain't exactly a ringing endorsement. Actual rating is right at 2.5. I'm curving up only because they all seem like a great hang.

We've been told for years to respect New Order because they were a band created from the ashes of Joy Division, and I've resisted only to thumb my nose at a music press trying to tell me what to do with my life. So it turns out...I like New Order now? This thing is filled with bangers clocking in at a nice clip, just under 40 minutes. I still regret nothing, but now there's a big party of me that believes 20 year old would have landed some nice pussy if only I had been into New Order. But it's never too late. Time to go work a little skirt. I'm sure my wife will understand. I'll play this album for her.

I received this album for free when it was released via the whole "Pay What You Want" system. Don't blame me. I'm Gen X, and that move was right on brand.

It's insane how no one bothered to listen to any of the lyrics until after Ian Curtis killed himself. Maybe the guilt of not recognizing dude was extremely depressed is why everyone is so quick to over praise it. This is still a good if not great listen. New Order was formed from the ashes of this band. And let's be honest: New Order's catalog is better.

Gross (except for the few songs that sound like The Jesus and Mary Chain).

Not sure what he was going for here, unless it was for something awful. If that was the intent, congrats. Challenging to even get through the whole thing.

Rewarding the more I listened. I don't want to have to read later about how the songs I like are about Jesus or some other bullshit.

Someone's a stalker. Even if this is supposed to be camp or something of a spoof, it still comes across as creepy.

We all agree this is the Elvis Costello album that should be cut from the list, right? It gets bumped up a point because it contains a song he played on classic episode of The Larry Sanders Show. Shout out to Larry Sanders!

We should talk about the all-time best singing drummers. Any list worth a shit will have the following: Don Henley: He's mainly a lead singer who just happened to play drums. Henley will never be considered one of the best drummers, but we're not listing or ranking best drummers here, but singing drummers. Phil Collins: Similar to Henley in that he's a lead singer who played the drums, but Collins gets a little too much credit for his drumming because his drumming sound in the '80's was so distinct. There's also the whole "In The Air Tonight" drum moment people get a little too excited over. Shelia E.: The best drummer on this short list, and it's not even close. Apparently her career was cut shorter than it should have been because she preferred drumming while wearing high heels. Levon Helm: His drumming style is actually quite similar to Henley's, but he's thought of as a much better drummer than Henley. He didn't have Henley's vocal chops, but his voice was still incredibly distinct, and it's Levon's voice I think of the most when I think of The Band. It's Levon singing lead on my favorite Band songs (none of which are on this album, for what it's worth). Bonus points for being adept at playing the mandolin. These are really the best four, and your mileage may vary on where you rank them. Anyone who is just trying to be cute will include Karen Carpenter (she COULD drum, but sort of gave it up after a while, but she gets props every now and then for people discovering old videos of her playing drums well while wearing a T-Shirt that says "Lead Sister"), the dude from the Romantics (who lucked out by singing lead on their most beloved song), Peter Criss (only because he sang on a handful of songs, although I'd listen to an argument for him being the best lead singer of Kiss, which is sort of like claiming to be the world's tallest midget), Roger Taylor (disqualified for singing a song about being in love with his car), Mickey Dolenz (we're not even sure how much drumming he was truly responsible for), Ringo Starr (as John Lennon once famously noted, he wasn't even the best drummer in The Beatles), Dave Grohl (no, also gave up the drums once he became a lead singer), Kelly Keagy (from Night Ranger, but the only people bringing him up are relatives of Kelly Keagy).

Lars Ulrich loves them, which makes me suspicious. This isn't the Deep Purple you're familiar with at all. It's really just musical masturbation.

I love his political views and cheery disposition. I sure wish I felt the same about his music. That's called sarcasm. Props for the final two songs appearing in The Royal Tanenbauns and The Sopranos, respectively. Whichever song on this album is playing when you first make out with a woman tells you all you need to know about her.

His solo work is better than his songs with The Smiths, and people hate him for that. Also: something of a mope.

I love Beck Hansen. Just not this version so much.

Janis didn't need these fuckers. She shines brighter on her solo work, which is saying something considering how much she stands out here (especially on the iconic "Piece Of My Heart").

Dude was of his time and somehow way ahead of his team, especially on this classic album. White folk lost their collective shit upon release, with good reason. This shit is so fucking good it almost makes me forget that Beck dabbled in Scientology.

Bobby Vinton has entered the chat! In the interest of full disclosure, if every song included a Bobby Vinton sample, I'd be compelled to rate this a 5. As it stands, this is as close as we're going to get to having Mr. Vinton on the list, until the Goodfellas soundtrack becomes eligible. Plus it turns out Ol' Bobby is still alive, so perhaps Röyksopp can do right by him and produce one final album and give Mr. Blue a Johnny Cash-Rick Rubin swan song.

More like, "Where is the line with this list", am I right?

I believe the legendary story that suggests Bowie wrote "Golden Years" for Elvis Presley. It sounds like something that could have been a great Fat Elvis Era song, and it would have been right on brand for Colonel Tom Parker to cock-block The King from recording it. "Golden Years" became a huge hit for Bowie. It's also the weakest song on this album. That's not to take anything away from the hit - it's a great song. Rather, it speaks to how Bowie released yet another classic album. Some find this to be his best album, and they're not wrong.

This shit should have been huge in 1993. My hunch is the rock press was too enamored with the Billy Corgans, Eddie Vedders and Kurt Cobains to even notice this album. I was working for a college radio station at the time and even I have no memory of this, the definition of flying under the radar.

So they don't use jelly on this one. Probably because…a spoonful weighs a ton? I'll show myself out.

Just, no.

It gets all the credit in the world for being something of a forefather to heavy metal, but it's still basically garage heavy metal. Nothing here holds up, aside from an interesting cover of "Summertime Blues".

It's hard to take Paul seriously as a poet laureate when he's greeting a lamppost like it's a long lost friend. And he doesn't even allow the lamppost to respond to what exactly it is that it's knowing because Paul doesn't give a shit, he's just come to watch..."your flowers growing"? No wonder he wore one of Seinfeld's puffy shirts while lurking behind Artie on the cover, insisting that only half of his face appears with the other half hidden. It's good for mystique, you see. It doesn't matter, because as usual, Artie gets the standout vocal performance (For Emily, Whenever I Might Find Her). But we do get one of the duos quintessential songs in "Homeward Bound", some fun shade thrown at Dylan (which must have just seemed insane at the time), and the majestical final mashup of a newscast with a gorgeous version of "Silent Night". This album may not be as overall satisfying as their final two albums, or even "The Graduate" soundtrack (which, to be fair, includes Scarborough Fair). But flowers never bend with the rainfall, or so we're told here, and I'll take this over any of Paul Simon's solo work. Congratulations, Artie and Paul. You ran the table here, meriting a 5 rating for each one of your three albums on the list.

Their best work, and it's as good as it gets for the genre. This album is probably what convinced Robert Plant to get Sandy Denny to sing with him on The Battle of Evermore. More time might possibly bump this rating up to a 5. I just need more listens. As hot as Sandy Denny was, I still can't go all the way on a first date.

The album cover made me expect…I don't know, something else? My wife's driving me nuts right now, trying to explain how calming ice cream is for stomach, and interfering with my review. In the past 5 minutes, she's gone from complaining about how "funny looking" Reba McEntire is to trying to remember what the movie with Laura Dern and Cher and that kid with the funny looking face was called. So basically she thinks Reba McEntire looks like Rocky Dennis, which isn't fair to either of them. Or this album, now that I think about it.

I think it's insane that Richard (the controlling asshole) and Karen (the gifted songstress and drummer) Carpenter insisted on pretending they were brother and sister, especially when it was so beyond obvious they were fucking.

Needs more Randy Crawford, whose vocal performance on Street Life makes this album worthwhile. That song alone gives merit for appearing on the list. It reminds some of Sharkey's Machine. It makes most everyone else think about Jackie Brown.

Shout Out to the Sharon Stone vehicle Sliver, which features the title song from this album. Big Human League vibe here, which makes all the sense in the world since the bands are somewhat related in a Poco/Eagles sort of way, with some band members splitting to join the other. Turns out that…I like Heaven 17 now? Fuck it, I might just love them. Some of this is better than a lot of similar music that hit in the States at the time. This should have been big here in 1981. The lesson, as always: Nobody knows anything.

This would be his masterpiece, but he also made Purple Rain. But holy shit is this great, especially for a double album. An apt comparison would be to call Purple Rain Prince's Sgt. Pepper and this his White Album. I'll always ride hard for Purple Rain to the point that I often argue it's perhaps the most perfect album ever. But I have no qualms with anyone saying this is the Purple One's finest hour.

Come for the ubiquitous title track (School's Out the song is an all-time 5, no one denies this). Stay for all of the surprises the Alice Cooper Group has up their sleeves. This somehow continues to get even better with age.

Better than awesome. The definition of a pleasant surprise. I suspect I heard some of this during the late '90's and wish I would have sought it out further at the time. Better late than never!

In the interest of full disclosure, I was tripping out in a nice way when I listened for the first time. I'd like to report that it opened up a whole new world for me. And it actually did for a while. But then I started feeling like I was in the middle of the panic scene of Batman Begins when Cillian Murphy throws that fear gas at a young Katie Holmes, which made me realize she was in that movie before Tom Cruise entered her life, so much so that she didn't do The Dark Knight and we just had to accept that Rachel Dawes is now played by Maggie Gyllenhaal. I don't really have anything against Maggie Gyllenhaal, it's just, you know. Tough beat. Show up for half of what is considered the greatest superhero movie ever before your character is killed off. So yeah that's the rabbit hole I went down with this album. The shrooms did the heavy lifting, and I eventually stopped listening to this and chose some Fat Elvis alternate take of a Righteous Brothers song that the King allegedly performed after Midnight in front of a rapid Vegas crowd. I bet the Colonel was passed out, but I'm telling you, Elvis was BRINGING IT! He even came back and did the "Baby Baby, I get down on my knees for you..." part again at the end of the song. If there's anyone who could ever will you into bringing back that lovin' feeling, it's Goddamn Vegas Elvis in the wee small hours of the morning.

Should have called themselves There There because there's no there there.

The one with Virginia Plain, which is enough to merit being on the list. But it's also the one with If There Is Something, which turns out to be...wait for it...better than something. It's such a Goddamn great, epic song that bleeds right into the aforementioned Virginia Plain. Maybe the most impressive part of this album is that at no point whatsoever could you pinpoint the year it was released (unless you knew the year already, which would be cheating). This in no way sounds anything like 1972, or even 1982. It somehow sounds fresh. Turns out their debut album was as good as it ever get for Roxy. I'd give this thing a 5 if not for the debate over Virginia Plain not being on the original UK release of the album. Plus it does lose a little steam towards the end.

I tried, I really did. Everyone raves about the voice. It's more grating than interesting.

I'll swear by The Killing Moon and title track all day long and twice on Sunday. The rest of this just comes across as overlay pretentious. For those who look down upon The Cure and Joy Division.

Not as good as London Calling, but that's quite a high bar. Those of us in the States couldn't get this until after London Calling anyway, so we were somewhat tricked into believing this was a follow up rather than the band's fucking debut. Spotify played Kiss Me Deadly by Generation X after this album and I almost thought it was still The Clash. Shoutout to Billy Idol!

My introduction to Aretha was as Matt Guitar Murphy's husband in The Blues Brothers. And then she had that huge hit a few years later with "Freeway Of Love". It wasn't until she performed duets with George Michael and Annie Lennox that I realized that she was much more than a sassy diner waitress who sassed Jake and Elwood Blues for ordering four fried chickens, dry white toast and a Coke. If only I would have just started with this landmark album. No wonder Belushi, Aykroyd, Lennox, Michael and millions others went out of their way to honor the one and only Queen of Soul. This is as good as it gets right here kids.

I should like this band more than I do. The production just always sounds so muddled. Perhaps that's a feature and not a bug, because this was my favorite of all the Bloody Valentine albums I've been exposed to thus far.

The going line on Randy Newman, the performer, is "Those that don't like him just don't understand him." There's no dispute on Randy Newman, the songwriter: He's one of the premier songwriters of his or anyone's generation. Even if your mileage varies on Newman as a performer, his songwriting genius is on full display here, notably on the title song, Political Science, and You Can Leave Your Hat On. Personally, as a performer, I find him to be the poor man's Warren Zevon. Most of his best songs were made famous performed by other artists. Newman going Disney hurt his reputation more than helped it. I prefer to remember everything he wrote up to "I Love L.A." Or maybe I just don't get Pixar Randy Newman.

Almost every Double Album has a few skips, some filler shit that only exist because the artist needed enough material to fill up two entire albums. This might be the exception, the rare Double Album where every track is essential. There's an argument to be made that anyone could take their 12 favorite songs from this album and sequence them as one single album, and that album could stand as one of the best ever. But cutting anything almost seems sacrilege, and it's one of the best albums ever as it is. We don't appreciate Stevie Wonder enough, especially his insane run of masterpieces through the 1970's. I still get a kick thinking about Stevie Wonder fooling the world by pretending to be blind. If there's anyone who could pull something like that off, it's the mastermind who painted this canvas. Even if this isn't your favorite Stevie Wonder album, there's no denying it's his Magnum Opus.

Better than any and every Byrds album. Better than a number of country albums on this list. It should be a requirement that one only listens with good headphones, as you get Gram Parsons' vocals on the left and Chris Hillman on the right, and whoever's voice you choose to focus on tells me everything I need to know about you.

Nope. I can still respect the band's talent, find some merit while also loathing the ever loving shit out of them.

Is this why KISS did a live album with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra? Considering they've spent their entire career chasing trends, I'm going with a resounding "YES" while docking this album a point for appealing to Gene Simmons in such a way. I'll take this over their studio albums for the most part. But not the version of Enter Sandman found here (imagine Mariano Rivera coming out of the bullpen to this version instead of the original studio recording, he'd never have made the Hall Of Fame). It's not as interesting as Lars and Company think it is (that honor goes to "Lulu", Metallica's collaboration with one Lou Reed). For what it's worth, KISS worked with Lou Reed before Metallica did, on the equally interesting "Music from The Elder". Jesus, what if those bands just existed to inspire each other? Or maybe Lou Reed just needed the money.

There are quite a few words one could accurately use to describe this album. The last one I'd use is special.

Happy to finally listen to the work of the man who gets a shoutout in the extended version of "Woke Up This Morning" (The theme song to The Sopranos). I was not disappointed.

Bobby finally got wise and sampled some of that great coke Teddy Pendergrass always kept around.

Just between us girls, Folklore is the better of Taylor's two Aaron Dessner/Pandemic albums she released mere months apart. I feel so strongly about this that I was actually dreading seeing this one show up. And it's a great album! It just doesn't have the emotional hold on me that Folklore does. The biggest difference is Folklore has no skips, whereas Evermore has some filler. So Folklore is a clear 5. My final grade here is based on the fact that Taylor released her Tapestry and Blue within four months, in the middle of a freaking Pandemic. Both albums prove how better off Taylor is when she gets away from Jack Antonoff (although in the interest of full disclosure, he does have writing credits on some of the better songs on both albums). Evermore is so much more than just a collection of Folklore leftovers. There are excellent collaborations here with Haim, The National and Bon Iver. 'Tis The Damn Season is on its way to becoming something of a Holiday Classic. And Ivy is in the running for for one of Taylor's all time best tracks. In a way, I'm jealous of those who come to this album before Folklore. There's every chance those folks have the same emotional connection with Evermore that I do with its predecessor. Time will be kind to both albums, and there's every chance history claims Evermore is her best work.

Hi, we're The Verve. Not to be confused with the Verve Pipe. We're the band with the one ginormous song that you actually like, but one with a melody we might have borrowed from the Stones. But we gave Mick and Keith songwriting credit on it. The lesson, as always, is Allen Klein is a huge prick. Whatever. When's the last time you listened to "Freshmen" by The Verve Pipe? We even give you a hidden track here at the end, which doesn't mean shit now but was a nice little surprise back in the CD era.

Most people seem to hate this just because of the Fred Durst of it all. I hate it because it's awful.

Needlessly excessive. Other than that, I loved it.

Where it all either started or exploded, or was that the previous album? I prefer "Please Please Me" to this one overall, and this one can feel and sound rushed to get more material out immediately after their debut. With The Beatles is mainly remembered now for the iconic album cover, and the cover songs, especially Lennon's lead on "Please Mr. Postman". But it's also like the 7th or 8th best Beatles album. This is just quibbling. We should stand impressed that they were able to put out a follow up album so fast with a great mix of original and cover songs. Plus, it's where the Lennon/McCartney songwriting partnership began. They'd certainly get a lot more interesting on future albums, but they proved here that no one could craft perfect pop songs better than they could. And they could seemingly do so in their sleep. Maybe that's why the boys are half-lit on the album photo.

Two quick stories that underscore why this album is such a goddamn easy 5 for me. Summer of 1984, my second concert ever at the second of back-to-back Van Halen shows in Omaha, NE. Your humble narrator was all of 14 years old and thrown into what could only be described as a bacchanal extravaganza. Between songs, someone threw a bra up on stage because of course they did. Without missing a beat, Diamond David Lee Roth dances right over to the bra, holds it up for the audience's pleasure, then turns to his wunderkind guitarist and says, "Hey Eddie. Valerie left this in my room last night. Would you mind giving it back to her?" Needless to say, the crowd lost their collective shit. Diamond Dave might have sniffed the bra, too. All Eddie could do was flash that famous smile of his that was all over the Jump music video. What was there to be upset about? Van Halen's music was EVERYWHERE that summer. Of course, behind the scenes, Eddie had just about enough of Roth's shit, and soon it was all Hummala bebhuhla zeebuhla boobuhla Hummala bebhuhla zeebuhla bop for Diamond Dave. Maybe "Valerie's" bra was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Which is just a travesty. In the summer of 2004, I had second row seats at a Van Halen concert. At least it was supposed to be a Van Halen concert. It was more like watching a horrible Van Halen cover band. Oh sure, Alex Van Halen and Michael Anthony were there, and whatever version of Eddie that could come crawling out of a bottle was there suffering through just an abysmal performance. And the lead singer was someone less charismatic than Diamond Dave. Van Halen had reunited, only with the wrong lead singer. Van Hagar opens up the concert by playing...Jump? Yes! For whatever your opinion is of Sammy Hagar as lead singer of Van Halen, that version had a slew of hits. They couldn't have opened with one of Sammy's tunes? It goes without saying that Sammy just butchered it, even throwing the microphone over to Michael Anthony for a verse. It didn't help that Eddie Van Halen was too busy searching for another bottle of wine instead of shredding his guitar. It's well known that this was a horrible time for Eddie, and I'm sure opening each show with one of your signature songs butchered by the wrong singer wasn't doing him any favors. The point is that Diamond Dave and Eddie Van Halen were magic together, and pretty much lost publicly without each other. Jump doesn't work let alone hold up without both of them. Jump was Van Halen's only song to top the Billboard Hot 100. It's got the insane Roth lyrics inspired by a guy threatening to jump off a building, along with Eddie showing off his guitar and keyboard skills. The rest of this album is loaded with hits, from Panama to Hot For Teacher to I'll Wait. I can't imagine how much bigger Van Halen would have become had they found a way to continue with Roth. All I know is few bands capture blissful magic like Van Halen did on 1984 in 1984.

Makes me think of Eddie Trunk for some reason. No notes.

I'm guessing a good chunk of the world believes that Johnny Cash wrote "Hurt". We shouldn't correct them. The Man In Black, in his dying days, didn't just take Trent Reznor's song and make it his own. It's the equivalent of sleeping with another man's wife - with his blessing, no leas - and developing such a deep love that she ultimately forgets her first husband even existed. And it's not like Reznor's version is horrible. It's just not what Rick Rubin and Johnny Cash found in the song. Don't cry for Trent Reznor though. He still "owns" Closer until he lets someone else sleep with that wife, too. Besides, Nine Inch Nails are overrated.

Let's be honest. Every Bowie album is at the very least good. Most are great to exceptional, which explains why he has so many on this list. But The Next Day is one one that doesn't merit consideration. I for one would replace it with Bowie's own Let's Dance, and it turns out this was indeed an album that was excluded from a later edition of the list. Again, this is a good album. It's just not upper echelon Bowie and is a bit overrated.

Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to front a band, especially one without a bass player.

I'm on board with almost everything this band did through teaming with Run DMC. You know, back when the blow was good! Anything they tried to force on the world after that borders on abysmal. Worse than awful.

Hot take: This is better than Blue. Somewhat related: I haven't listened to Blue yet. Props to Joni for the dig at Jackson Browne, cryptically implying that his wife killed himself because he was abusive towards her. That's some fucking shade. Carly Simon and Alanis Morrissette get universal props for their digs at exes, but Joni's are LEGENDARY. It helps that she's got a catalog of famous exes, and that she's five times the songwriter of Carly and Alanis.

Such a goddamn easy 5. My favorite song here just might be Meeting Across The River, which is Springsteen's least known song from this album. Then again, every song here is a 5. The Boss swung for the fences here, and hit an all-time tape measure home run that won the pennant. Shout out to the Big Man Clarence Clemons, especially his sax solo on Jungleland.

Parts of this reminded me of The Graduate, which is never a bad thing. Other parts reminded me of Desi Arnaz. It's an overall joy.

For those of us who know how to party. I know the question you're asking right now: "Big Dog, what's stopping you from branding this thing a 5?" And the answer is nothing, nothing at all. Somewhat related: no one calls me Big Dog. Or Big Dawg.

This album has a 12 minute version of Papa Was A Rolling Stone. That's enough to merit inclusion on the list.

I didn't even realize The Exorcist had any music in it, let alone a theme song. Maybe it was just overshadowed by all the head spinning and "FUCK THE BREATHING". At any rate, John Carpenter's Halloween Theme blows this shit out of the water. This dude was apparently all of 19 years when he recorded this and played most of the instruments. So, props I reckon? The phrase "not my cup of tea" constantly comes to mind.

I'm over these fuckers.

Reminds me of a bad part of high school, which is a shame because this album slaps. I thought seeing the Femmes a few years ago at an outdoor festival would purge some of those memories, but the venue was overcrowded with white MAGA dudes who were still pretending to live their high school glory. Why can't I get just one screw?

No one should have to work so hard to find shit like this on a streaming service in 2022.

There's too much of a Zach Braff in Garden State vibe working here. That's not the band's fault as much as it is Zach Braff's, but sometimes you get hit with friendly fire. There are a handful of gems here. But too much sounds like watered down Coldplay.

An apt comparison would be to liken The Killers to Pearl Jam and The Strokes to Nirvana. Honestly, they both sound the same to me (The Killers and Strokes, which means I don't buy the Pearl Jam vs. Nirvana connection). Maybe we're not far enough away, but this holds up well, and Mr. Brightside is destined to become a rock classic if it isn't one already. The hits are fucking bangers. But I'll take Pearl Jam any day over this. And Nirvana. In ten years, classic rock radio stations will play Mr. Brightside and Smile Like You Mean It, followed by Jeremy and Come As You Are. And we'll all shrug.

Twenty-seven year old me thought he was the shit pulling out a Belle and Sebastian CD in the middle of Nebraska, thinking it would impress the locals. It wasn't this particular Belle and Sebastian CD, but it bored the affable Nebraskans to tears. I'd thumb my nose at them, believing I was above it all and ahead of the game in terms of finding the next big musical act. Twenty-seven year old me was an idiot. This shit is fine but maybe not fine enough to crack any all time list. Especially not this Belle and Sebastian album.

Remember that scene from A Clockwork Orange when that dude in a wheelchair locks Malcolm McDowell in an upstairs room and plays Beethoven loudly, knowing it'll drive him insane? And it causes McDowell's character Alex such sickening pain that he throws himself out of the window? That's what this album made do, and I'm still in sickening pain as I write this. Apparently the dude who created The Simpsons of all people claims you have to listen to this album a whopping SEVEN times before you realize it's brilliant. I don't have that many windows I'm willing to jump out of to confirm whether or not he's correct.

Miley Cyrus's version of Nothing Else Matters blows Metallica's away. Show me the lie! Enter Sandman is a classic but it reminds me of Mariano Rivera walking out of the bullpen, which means it reminds of annoying Yankee fans who overpraise Mariano. Sort of like Metallica fans and this album.

It still slaps and slaps hard. Nine songs, 7 of which were released as singles, and ALL SEVEN cracked the Billboard Top 10. You can make the argument that the other two songs would have been Top 10 Hits if they were also released as singles ("The Girl Is Mine", a duet with Paul McCartney which is the weakest song on the album, was the first single released, and that thing made it all the way to number 2, so Jacko and producer Quincy Jones were clearly on a roll). Vincent Price and Goddamn Eddie Van Halen make cameo appearances for crying out loud.

This is apparently what happens when Billy Gibbons listens to a little too much Depeche Mode. The hits you're familiar with still hold up well, proving they don't need the videos (except for Legs, that's a terrible song that I firmly believe only broke through because of the video MTV deemed clever). In the interest of full disclosure, I didn't appreciate that little ol' band from Texas until they made a documentary for Netflix, with an obvious appearance by Billy Bob Thornton. I mainly think of ZZ Top music as strip club music. That's either a feature or a benefit. Probably both depending on how often one frequents strip clubs.

Littered with bangers. Nothing fancy or earth shattering, and doesn't sound like an album up for consideration as one of the greatest on time. But no skips, just good all around.

HOT TAKE TIME, wherein we rank the takes based on how firm the hill of the take is I'm willing to die on: * Tapestry is better than Blue: I see the argument, mainly because I personally prefer Tapestry over Blue. Tapestry is a divorce album, and it has the feeling of being wronged by that one guy Carole King is moving on from. Blue is about a number of different lovers, most famously Graham Nash and James Taylor among others, and is more sparse and feels more personal. It also has the most underrated Christmas Song ever written (River). Tapestry has great session musicians, including Danny "Kootch" Kortchmar, while Blue is all Joni. Sure, she has occasional exes like James Taylor strum guitar on a few tracks, but this is mainly Joni on piano and guitar, and her underrated vocals. VERDICT OF TAKE: Tapestry has the hits, which could be why I opt for it over Blue. Both albums remain influential, but you can't begrudge anyone who prefers Blue. * Blue is overrated: Rolling Stone famously named this the THIRD greatest album of all time in their 2020 poll. Seems high. But this is the sort of thing that happens when you have the likes of Phoebe Bridgers ranking her all-time favorite albums. VERDICT OF TAKE: I doubt Blue remains at number 3 whenever Rolling Stone updates their poll again. It probably belongs around number 30, which is where it was in their 2012 poll. * Blue isn't even Joni Mitchell's best album: In my book, that honor belongs to Hejira, which is a classic set of 9 bangers. No one falls over themselves to praise Hejira like they should. It's probably due to the fact that Hejira has Coyote, and Blue has River. VERDICT OF TAKE: This is the hill I'm dying on. And unfortunately, I only awarded Hejira with a 4 when I should have branded it a 5. Blue is a classic album, but I'm a Hejira Stan. This 5 is for Hejira as much as it is for Blue.

What an insane run Zimmerman was on in 1965-66. He follows up Highway 61 Revisited less than a year later with this double album. It contains a good chunk of my favorite Dylan songs. This surely inspired (too) many future artists to release double albums, not many of which come close to capturing the magic Dylan laid down over a few months in 1966.

It's important. Because it's a document. Because it's Dylan with The Band (minus Levon Helm) on some songs. I just wish it was, you know, good. Sure, it was nice to hear acoustic versions of some Dylan classics. We went to see Dylan in concert a few years ago, not expecting much, basically just to see Bob Dylan live. Plus Mavis Staples was the opening act. Sure, Dylan was pushing 80 at the time so it wasn't like we were getting anything close to prime Dylan. Still, we left thinking Dylan just wasn't a great live performer. Half the time he doesn't give a shit, and I can't even remember one song he performed. Apparently he did an old Dean Martin standard I was either unfamiliar with or Dylan just mangled. This album basically solidifies my opinion. Dylan will go down as perhaps our greatest songwriter, but that clearly doesn't translate to anything remarkable in his live performances.

So much better than I remembered. Perhaps retrospect fooled me into thinking some of his earlier albums were better. Maybe we should blame Cameron Crowe for suggesting everyone go back and reassess Madman Across The River. Or it could be the updated versions of Candle In The Wind soured folks on this album. This is the one, folks. The one we should praise on Sir Elton. His true masterpiece.

I suppose I could take the cheap route and call Skip Spence the poor man's Fred Neill. But perhaps nothing sums up this album (or Skip Spence) better than this reminisce from Peter Lewis of Moby Grape: "...He (Skip Spence) actually OD'ed once and they had him in the morgue in San Jose with a tag on his toe. All of a sudden he got up and asked for a glass of water. Now he was snortin' big clumps of coke, and nothing would happen to him. We couldn't have him around because he'd be pacing the room, describing axe murders. So we got him a little place of his own. He had a little white rat named Oswald that would snort coke too. He'd never washed his dishes, and he'd try to get these little grammar school girls to go into the house with him. He was real bad. One of the parents finally called the cops, and they took him to the County Mental Health Hospital in Santa Cruz. Where they immediately lost him, and he turned up days later in the women's ward."

What it felt like to shop at a Banana Republic in 2018.

The last album you want to listen to when the windchill is -35 degrees outside. Unless depression is sort of your thing.

These fuckers always just give me a hangover. And I don't even drink.

Jesus, no. On Christmas Eve no less.

Credit has to go to Diddy and Missy Elliott for giving the bangers a kick. And props for the scintillating Prince cover, proving Mimi has great taste. But Mariah can't help herself by overloading the album with too many ballads designed to showcase her vocals, but ultimately trying to find the next One Sweet Day, a song no one really was asking for in the first place.

I was reluctant to dive into Elliott Smith on December 26th, in Omaha, NE, where he was born. Somehow this turned into a pleasant surprise. There's a pleasant Beatles meets Big Star feel about the songs. It doesn't have the depressing post-Christmas feel I was expecting. Thank fucking Christ.

One all-time pantheon song that stands so far above the other songs on the album to make them all sound like filler. Don't You Want Me works so well because it's a duet, which makes me wonder if the other songs would benefit from a little less Phillip Oakey, who gets annoying after a while. But they'll always have Don't You Want Me, a classic that alone warrants a spot on the list.

Simon's solo work reminds me of John Lennon's in that, yes there are some gems, but there's something missing. And in both cases, it's their musical collaborator. Paul Simon needed Art Garfunkel just as much as Lennon needed McCartney. And vice versa. The two hits here classics, and overall it's one of Paul Simon's more satisfying Solo efforts. But as is always the case with his solo albums, I'm reminded that Tom and Jerry belong together.

Evidently a song from this album is featured in The Big Lebowski. I've seen that movie at least 27 times, and all I recall is the Credence, a funky Kenny Rogers song about checking his condition, a Bob Dylan album cut, a nice Nina Simone song, and a cab driver who liked "Peaceful, Easy Feeling" by the Eagles. Oh, and ZZ Top's cover of Viva Las Vegas. And John Turturo's character bowling to a Spanish language version of Hotel California (maybe I've seen the movie more than 27 times). But I don't recall hearing "I Hate You" by The Monks at all. Which tells you how forgettable it is. Just like most of this album.

Some of it reminded me of the Talking Heads. It's a bit overrated as far as Paul Simon is concerned. Don't get me wrong, it's a great album, some would even say it's a landmark. But I'm guessing none of the songs Paul Simon will ultimately be remembered for will come from Graceland. It lives in that 4 to 4.5 zone, not quite flirting with a 5. In the interest of full disclosure, I have a blind spot when it comes to Paul Simon without Art Garfunkel. I famously gave all three Simon and Garfunkel albums on here a 5. Hell, The Graduate is my favorite movie. So I always think Simon's songs miss whatever magic Artie was able to bring.

I admire the Arsenio Hall selling out diss, even though I'm sure many accused Cube of the same after he started making all of those "Are We There Yet?" movies. Somewhat related and definitely worth mentioning: Cube is the only Raider's fan I respect.

There's a Ramones vibe here, even though it's not as accessible as say I Wanna Be Sedated or Blitzkrieg Bop. It's more interesting than it is enjoyable, and I was left wanting more. Not more Pink Flag or Wire, just more than what these 21 snippets gave off.

HOT TAKE: My favorite Billy Joel album is "An Innocent Man". Don't at me. It has just as many hits as this one, although even the lesser known tracks from "The Stranger" are still quite well known, with "Vienna" especially enjoying something of a new lease on life recently. There isn't one skippable track here, and you get the epic "Scenes From An Italian Restaurant" right in the middle of several hits. I'll never deny having a soft spot in my heart for Billy Joel. Do yourself a favor and listen to the Legacy Edition of this album for a great live set that includes many tracks from "The Stranger", along with Miami 2017 (See the Lights Go Out On Broadway), Captain Jack, and Say Goodbye To Hollywood. You probably like Billy Joel, too. Don't fight it.

I've thoroughly enjoyed some great world music albums during this little exercise. That's been one of the joys from listening to over half of the albums appearing on the list. Unfortunately, this isn't one of the better world music albums listed. Maybe I just expected more after getting so many gems.

This is so damn good that it should be mandated to be readily available on SOME streaming platform. Seriously, you can't even buy a digital version of this album on Amazon. I'm paying for (some would suggest foolishly) unlimited music on Spotify, Amazon and YouTube Music, and it shouldn't be this challenging to find this remarkable album. Thankfully, you can stream the entire album on YouTube. It turns out De La Soul's entire catalog will finally be made available on streaming services on March 3, 2023. But the simple fact that I was willing to actually buy a digital copy of this album if one would have just been made available tells you everything you know about the album's quality.

No. But in the album's defense, it's better than the Genesis albums on the list. Probably closer to a 2.5 than a 2. And Long Distance Runaround is something of a banger.

An absolute joy. I almost feel like my life was incomplete before finally hearing this album, and kicking myself for not playing this band back during my college radio DJ days. This isn't dream pop as much as it's ABBA with an edge.

Worse than awful.

In The End belongs on any and every workout playlist. It's in the middle tier of greatest debut albums of all time.

Now here's an album at or near the top of the list for greatest debut albums of all time. And it would make the list based on the opening track alone, one of the best side 1, song 1's you'll ever here. More Than A Feeling is pure timeless magic. And the rest of the album is just littered with bangers. Do yourself a favor and seek out Brad Delp's isolated vocals on More Than A Feeling, along with performing the song live in the ’70’s. Maybe don't fall into a deep dive on Brad Delp's unfortunate death, unless depression is your thing.

This could have been an email.

I saw Sheryl Crow in concert while she was touring to support her follow up album to this one. She had a ton of hits by that point (her self titled follow up had as many hits as this album, maybe even more). Of course she played them all, even made sure to diss Walmart (who refused to sell her albums because she called them out about selling guns on her second album. But what I remember most about the concert is she had two opening acts. The first was Dishwalla, who had a hit song called "Counting Blue Cars" that blatantly referred to God as a "her". The second performer was Lisa Loeb who had that song from Reality Bites that actually went to number 1. And if we're being honest, Loeb's "Stay (I Missed You)" is the song that is still played the most from all the hits performed that night from either 1996 or 1997. Lisa Loeb had a handful of minor hits after "Stay", but nothing as far reaching as her chart topper. Meanwhile, Sheryl Crow looked to all the world like she might become the Joni Mitchell or Carole King of her generation. This album was huge when it was released, especially "All I Wanna Do". Kurt Cobain had just died, and grunge along with him. Sheryl Crow's timing was perfect. People wanted a "happier" sound, or at least one that wasn't so angry. And a sexy new female claiming that all she wanted to was have some fun captured that mood. It seemed everyone loved her. She'd win a slew of Grammy's the following year, and survive a backslash from a lot of members of the Tuesday Night Music Club who attempted to discredit her contributions (there's a whole ugly backstory you can do a deep dive on, which includes the suicide of her ex who wrote a lot of this album). Give Sheryl credit for following that ordeal up with two (even better?) albums that kept generating hits. She may not have become another Joni Mitchell, and I don't even think that was her aspiration. Both the older and younger generations adore her, and frankly it's surprising she's not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She survived Lance Armstrong. And fucking cancer. Unlike Dishwalla, she's still recording decent music and probably will for years to come.

David Byrne is one of those artists who people are going to lose their collective shit over when he dies. Obviously he's adored and lauded (not many other pop stars could pull off what he did on Broadway with American Utopia), but the outpouring of hosannas thrown at him when he goes to his great reward will rival those bestowed on Bowie and Prince when they passed. It's like that old Bill Murray joke from Stripes about Tito Puente: "Tito Puente's gonna be dead, and you're gonna say, 'Oh, I've been listening to him for years, and I think he's fabulous.'" And part of that reassessment will include over-praising this album, which isn't as complete as their follow up, the brilliant "Remain In Light". The key issue I have with this album is that the songs here that are included in "Stop Making Sense" sound MUCH better during that concert. But you could pretty much say the same thing about all of the songs performed during "Stop Making Sense", which will go down as perhaps the greatest concert film of all-time. And maybe that's Byrne's true legacy. "Stop Making Sense" is, as Pauline Kael stated at the time, close to perfection. Byrne knew how to perform his songs live better than anyone could produce on record. And Kael got it somewhat wrong in regards to "Stop Making Sense". The versions of Heaven and Life During Wartime in that concert film aren't just close to perfection. They're downright perfect.

Critics labeled this a disaster when it was released. Sometimes they get it right the first time. Give Lou Reed credit. When he swings for the fences and misses, my word, he misses spectacularly.

The Sgt. Pepper vibes are strong with this one. Maybe Andy Partridge and Todd Rundgren really did hate one another with the white hot intensity of 1,000 suns. Does it really matter if it leads to this sort of magic?

I'm beginning to think Beyonce actually likes all the attention she receives. There are a handful of bangers here, but the album is mostly half baked ideas.

Introduced to this by my college roommate in 1990-91. He woke up our other roommate one time at 4:30 AM by getting right in his face and yelling, "Can you feel it, see it, hear it today? If you can't, then it doesn't matter anyway!" I think he wanted to wake him up because he had just put thumb tacks in his slippers and figured shaking him awake singing the lyrics to "Epic" by Faith No More was a surefire way to compel him to put on his slippers. I don't think our roommate - some of us called him Hoops, some called him Diamond Dave - ever did wear those sweaters, which is probably for the best. Hoops likely would have accused me. But shoutout to Jason Jorgensen, who I forever owe a debt of gratitude for introducing this album to me. And for making me laugh at the thought of Hoops putting on a pair of slippers filled with thumb tacks. Good times.

I could do without all the unnecessary dialogue. It just gets in the way. Would have graded higher if I'd have known to skip all of those parts. The songs themselves take you on a goddamn journey.

I've heard of this dude.

Allison Krauss meets Joni Mitchell with a strong hint of Emmylou Harris thrown in for good measure. Norah Jones became the breakout star around this time, but a world with better sense would have made Welch a star instead.

Rumor has it that her biggest hit "Help Me" is about Glenn Frey. Makes sense. And it's no secret "Free Man in Paris" is about David Geffen of all people. Good Lord, did Joni know how to turn her relationships into great songs. Maybe not Joni's best work, but it's quite possibly her most accessible album, especially if one swears by the Billboard charts. Which means in their world, it's also her most successful. I love the two "hits" from this album, but overall, it can't compete with Hejira or Blue.

I think one of the most interesting things about this album is that it's impossibly mediocre.

Wherein Zimmerman surprisingly releases a new album of original material in the late '90's, an album that is just as surprisingly pretty good, and rock critics fall all over themselves to overpraise it as the second coming. This is the sort of thing that tends to happen when the most meaningful thing you've done in 20 plus years is pretend to be a Wilbury. Not surprisingly, this album becomes a Grammy darling, winning a slew of Grammys including Album Of The Year, and all anyone remembers about Dylan's performance is that some background dancer goes rogue and spastically dances around with the words "Soy Bomb" painted on his chest. Everyone wanted this album to be as regarded as Blood on the Tracks. It's not Blood on the Tracks. It's Zimmerman in his Lion in Winter stage. And history finally puts this effort in it's proper place as far as Dylan is concerned. It's not top-shelf, but it's firmly in the tier beneath top-shelf Dylan. Soy Bomb be damned.

We can all agree that "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" should be represented on this list somehow, right? Still, it's hard to quibble with this one being the Gil Scott-Heron album included since it's an overall joy. My only gripe is that Spotify doesn't even acknowledge the existence of this album. You know how they'll still show a Joni Mitchell or Neil Young album, but it's all shaded out? Not the case with "Winter In America". You get an error message, that suggests "This album is no longer valid". Seems harsh. It's also a lie. This album is most definitely valid. And what a voice!

Brian Johnson is the Sammy Hagar to Bon Scott's David Lee Roth. Like Van Halen with Hagar, AC/DC sold a shitload more albums with Hagar as lead singer. And just as the best Van Halen albums and songs are those that feature Diamond Dave as lead vocalist, AC/DC's work is miles better with the late Bon Scott. AC/DC was just a lot more fun with Bon Scott...you know, like Van Halen and Dave. Which brings me to a theory that apparently no one is willing to completely prove or disprove. Bon Scott had to have written at least SOME of this album. It's the one album with Brian Johnson that I'll hold up with all of the Bon Scott era albums. You can put the title track and "You Shook Me All Night Long" up with any of the classic Scott songs. Credit has to go to "Mutt" Lange, who also produced "Highway To Hell", the band's last album with Scott. Apparently Mutt was meticulous in working with Johnson on the vocals to get them precisely the way he thought they needed to sound like. The result is a classic album littered with bangers, definitely in the upper echelon as one of the best hard rock/heavy metal albums of all-time (although your mileage may vary as to whether this is hard rock or heavy metal, I tend to lean towards the former). Call it whatever you want. It's remarkable that Mutt was able to build off the strength of his previous work with Angus and the boys with a brand new singer. Dude knows how to move some vinyl. Maybe it's the stupid hat that Brian Johnson always wears that bothers me.

Everyone knows the three biggest "hits" from each of the big 3 alternative rock albums from around this time (Nirvana's Nevermind, Pearl Jam's Ten and Siamese Dream by the Smashing Pumpkins). But I believe what makes each of these albums standout and have staying power are the deep cuts, some of which have renewed interest over the years. I'm looking at Nevermind's "Something In The Way" and of course Ten's "Black", which wanted to be a hit but Pearl Jam refused to release it as a single. And I'll make the argument that three deep cuts from Siamese Dream are in fact better than the three "hits" released from the album. Maybe "Soma", "Mayonaise", and "Spaceboy" don't have the anthemic feel you get from "Today" or "Cherub Rock". But I tend to revisit them more than any of the more popular tracks on Siamese Dream. The Pumpkins don't get the accolades Nirvana and Pearl Jam still receive, and obviously a lot of that comes from Billy Corgan rubbing people the wrong way with his surly personality. Those people include members of the Smashing Pumpkins. But who gives a shit. We should be less concerned about how the sausage is made. Stay out of the kitchen and just enjoy results.

For as great of a songwriter as he is, Tom Waits sure sounds like someone taking a massive shit. That's more of a feature than a benefit.

Eighteen songs. Nine of which I absolutely loved. Nine that I hate with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. This album's opening track is in the running for worst "Side 1, Track 1" of all-time. How bad is it? It almost made me stop listening altogether. This album is just a little too ambitious for its own good. Tighten things up and lose those 9 disastrous songs and we're all singing a different tune here.

Hi, we can't decide if we're the B-52's or The Slits or even how we feel about John Cassavetes. But we're a really good time.

I have very few rules in life, but a hard and fast one is to never trust anyone who happily admits to being called Mellow Yellow, unless they're a cat, which Donovan certainly could be for all I know. That song isn't even on this album, so consider me skeptical. Apparently John Mellencamp is a fan. This has to mean that when little Johnny Mellencamp went down to the Tastee Freeze to enjoy a chili dog, he asked if they had Mello Yello as a soft drink. No way that Tastee Freeze had Mello Yello. They likely countered by asking if Fresca was OK. That's probably when Johnny Mellencamp went all in on Mountain Dew to wash down that chili dog and polished it off with three Marlboro Reds. But I'll give Mellow Yellow (Donovan, not the soft drink) his props. Sunshine Superman and Season of the Witch are all-time bangers. I may think more of Season of the Witch ever since it was used in Gus Van Sant's movie "To Die For" because it's the perfect song to play while Illeana Douglas ice skates over Nicole Kidman's dead body. Oh, spoiler alert. The movie is damn near 30 years old. Get over it. Don't even get me started on Hurdy Gurdy Man being used in the movie Zodiac. That song isn't on this album either. But props to Donovan for allowing David Fincher to use that song for THAT scene. Nice move, Donovan. They call him Mellow Yellow. Superman and Green Lantern ain't got nothing on him. I don't make the rules here.

Those who have an issue with Brown Sugar and Bitch are missing the point. Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. The brilliance lies in the deep cuts anyway. Wild Horses, Dead Flowers, and Moonlight Mile are in my Stones top 10. This album is part of the Stones' fabled 5 consecutive album run. Exile will forever be my all time favorite Stones album, but I have no problem admitting that I cheat on my favorite from time to time. Seems appropriate. Send me dead flowers every morning and I won't forget to put roses on your grave.

It stuffers from having followed a masterpiece and therefore is always compared to it, which led to this being referred to as "Kid B" in some corners. In truth, it's something of a letdown coming after both OK Computer and Kid A. Christ, it sounds like I'm underselling this album. It's still great. Being the 3rd best Radiohead album isn't anything to be ashamed of.

Sounds more fresh today than it did in 1991. A great argument for acid rock and taking acid in general.

A 30-minute adrenaline rush. Proof that all you need is $6,400 and a week to start something of a revolution. Just strip rock down to the basics and kick every song up to 160 beats per minute. No need to loiter, either. Cut, zip, over and out. Anyone who believes that every song sounds the same hasn't tried listening to the lyrics.

Apparently this was the only way to get Michael McDonald and Kenny Loggins on the list. And frankly this album could use more of them. McDonald and Loggins, of course, underline the album's Yacht Rock feel. But it's not Yacht Rock enough for my taste. Most of it sounds like an AA Meeting on a yacht.

The only people I ever heard praise her to the heavens were rock critics and media friendly musicians, so I was always somewhat skeptical. I was only familiar with her version of a song Springsteen gave her, and a song she collaborated on with R.E.M. on their last album with drummer Bill Berry. Turns out I should have jumped in sooner. This has one of the all-time greatest album opening lines (on a debut, no less. It tells you everything you need to know about the artist and album you're about to listen to), two incredible covers, and a style to that builds in unexpected ways. Patti Smith may always be a bit overrated in my book (she doesn't exactly have a vast body of work, just this album and a handful of follow ups). As great as this album is, I'm not ready to rank it as one of the 100 greatest rock albums, a hill Rolling Stone is apparently willing to die on. But Patti Smith gave us this album, and inspired PJ Harvey and Michael Stipe. So I'm fine with any accolades she receives.

I wasn't expecting a Trump shout out. Was there a Trump shout-out? I don't fucking know. I'm tripping. On a goddamn school night no less. What has this trip taught me? I need to leave my wife. I'm leaving my wife. Maybe it's a Sunday night thing. Maybe it's this album. It's surely this album.

I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for Jane's Addiction because I had a roommate who was early to the party with them. Jason Jorgensen was the only person I know who had this album when it came out, and he played it constantly. The dude was obsessed with this album, to the point that he'd answer the phone by saying, "Jason Says". My grade here is surely sized up because of how ingrained "Mountain Song" and "Jane Says" are in my system. If I'm being honest, those are the only two tracks I love from this album. But damn if Jason didn't quote "Pigs In Zen" and "Idiots Rule" every chance he could. Jane's Addiction, or at least Perry Farrell, is considered one of those "on the bubble" Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame candidates, which means they'll likely get in one day via a "side category". But Farrell created Lalapalooza from the ashes of a Jane's Addiction farewell tour. And between that and the great Jane's songs that still hold up, they deserve to be in the Rock Hall.

Syd Barrett has entered the chat. Apparently he went somewhat insane after making this album. I'd say he was deteriorating WHILE making it. I'll give it another listen the next time I try shrooms, and perhaps that will make a difference.

Better than it deserves to be. I guess it's true what they say: Everyone needs a bossom for a pillow.

Back when Townshend knew how to truly make a concept album and doesn't burn the toast. I love it when artists try this kind of shit, and it (mostly) works.

We get it. You're depressed.

I'm leary about love at first sight, but I fell and fell hard on my first listen. After 631 albums, THIS is why I keep going. To try a new album I've never heard of from a band or artist I never knew existed and to come out of it something of a Stan.

Who knew the chick who plays Ellie on The Last Of Us was a big Meat Loaf fan? This is worth noting because the actress who plays Ellie, Bella Ramsey, was born in Nottingham, England in 2003, 26 years after Bat Out Of Hell (or as we die-hards cleverly call it, BOOH) was released. And we know this because Ramsey excitedly shared her Top 5 Spotify Artists from 2022 (!) on Twitter. Meat Loaf was number 4, behind Cigarettes After Sex, Paolo Nutini, and girl in red (Phoebe Bridgers was number 5 because of course she was). It's not even surprising that a 19-year old English Actress was listening to a shitload of a 45-year old album. Meat Loaf will probably be in another 19-year old's Top 5 ten and 15 years from now. There was no one quite like Meat Loaf, just like there isn't another album quite like BOOH, an album that takes a lot from Springsteen (it even features E Street Band drummer Max Weinberg), Phil Spector and the Ronettes (on "You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth), the Eagles ("Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad") and many others. Apparently, radio stations in Omaha, Nebraska were among the first to play songs from BOOH, which means 7-year old me listened to a lot of "Paradise By The Dashboard Light". So this one is ingrained in me. Some would grow up to fight that to the point of embarrassment. Not me. I'm not ashamed to ride hard for this album. I understand I'm not going to find a Coupe de Ville hiding somewhere at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box.

Contains the perfect pop song (Heart Of Glass), a perfect classic rock song (One Way Or Another), the perfect, iconic album cover (Debby Harry in justifiable super hero pose, but the dude on the far right is what closes it for me). But then again, every song is perfection in its own way. Just banger on top of banger, the album stands head and shoulders over everyone else trying to play in the same sandbox in 1978. This is the one that cemented Debbie Harry's legend.

For someone claiming to be Lucifer, Ozzy sure sounds like he's phoning it in on a lot of this, doesn't he? Somewhat related: I don't need the Prince of Darkness playing the harmonica.

If I were to rank all of the artists in the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame, I'd put Metallica in the bottom ten. They wouldn't be dead last, only because I've been told Bon Jovi was somehow elected to the Hall. This exercise of listening to an album a day for over two years now has shown me that Metallica is an extremely overrated band. That doesn't even take into account how the band whined and complained about Napster to the point where we stopped getting free MP3’s. I guess "One" is OK, but Christ, Scorsese's The Irishman felt shorter. No wonder Jethro Tull won the Grammy instead of this album. These fuckers never should have stopped drinking.

Is it the singer? Or is it the songs?Shouldn't it be both when it comes to this masterpiece? Songs written by, among others, Carole King, Randy Newman and the late Burt Bacharach. But Dusty Springfield takes every goddamn one of them and makes each song her own. This is as good as it gets, folks. An album worthy of its lofty reputation and then some.

All I knew of this dude before this was the Rocket music video, and that Stevie Wonder liked him. This album also made me realize I've been bleeding from my ass for a week. I'm not blaming Herbie Hancock. I'm not even blaming the great Steve Wonder, despite the fact that all signs suggest it's his fault. It's always his fault.

The Parker Posey of rock. Every performance is beyond great, different from all the others, and yet completely underappreciated from a mass popularity standpoint. Polly Jean famously only sought to have each album be different from her previous work (which is sort of like Parker Posey now that I think about it). The Brits get Harvey more than the States every have. Some day PJ Harvey is going to get her just desserts in the US and be nominated for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It'll probably take a Kate Bush/Stranger Things sync of some sort. I believed such a thing was about to happen last year when Down By The Water was used in Yellowjackets. Maybe that would have occurred if that series was on Netflix instead of Showtime. The great news for Polly Jean Harvey - and all of us - is that she's not done making music yet.

So much better than anything Courtney Love or Hole ever did. But the media didn't throw hosannas at Shirley Manson, and saved them all for Courtney for whatever reason. This album is begging to be rediscovered. Maybe the comparison to Love and Hole isn't appropriate. The more apt link is to Chrissie Hynde and The Pretenders.

Listen and listen often, it's great. What's troubling me right now is that my wife has decided to watch an episode of Magnum PI. And not the Tom Selleck original run. The reboot that apparently wasn't even good enough for CBS and now airs on NBC. I'm beginning to think I'm going to have to leave her for this reason alone. I'm not even close to kidding. Tell the world my story.

Just an exceptional album from start to finish. No skips, is in the running for her best album overall. Seriously, I can't sing the album's praises enough. Yet for some reason, I have no idea how many more times I'll revisit it. I wouldn't be surprised if I never listened to it again. On the other hand, I could listen to it non-stop over the next few months, turn into an Icelandic Fairy Princess, deem this the greatest album of all-time, and I wouldn't be shocked at all. That'd be very in character for yours truly.

Step right up, and meet the best friend a song ever had. The reason names like Elvis and Sinatra and Linda Ronstadt and Aretha Franklin are so iconic is due to their unique ability to take a song and make it all their own. George Jones is on that list, at or near the top in the world of country music. Take the title track alone here. The Ol' Possum didn't write it, but the way he sells it, you can't help but believe he's singing about Tammy Wynette. It's almost like he himself wrote it about her. That song alone puts the album on this list, as it's one of the greatest performances in country music history. No Show Jones was known more for his hit songs than his albums, and he'd be better represented here with a compilation of his best songs over his lengthy, remarkable career. But you can't have a list like this without including George Jones. Anyone unfamiliar with Jones should go on a deep dive. Read all about George and Tammy. Enjoy the stories about Jones riding a lawnmower to a liquor store because his wife hid his car keys. Go watch his fucking memorial service, where anyone and everyone came to perform and pay final respects to one of the genre's greatest voices. Listen to all of his hits, especially He Stopped Loving Her Today. Take the grand tour.

Rolling Stone apparently had this thing as one of the Top 150 albums of all-time in their first two polls, then dropped it down to 471 in their most recent polling. Fuck Rolling Stone. They were right the first two times. The album's reputation is earned from the two giant, timeless bangers (Somebody To Love and especially the ubiquitous White Rabbit) and for it being the announcement of one the essential female rock vocalists. Grace Slick brings everything to an entirely new level, and like most listeners, I find myself wishing she sang lead on every track. But in 1967, having her take charge of the band's two biggest single was a huge deal. Grace Slick is such a presence that even her backing and co-lead vocals overshadow anyone in her orbit. Go ask Alice, I think she'll know.

Not as earth shattering as I was hoping it would be. It lives right in the "really, really good" category. Of course I reserve the right to fall madly in love with it with added listens. It's all good, there just isn't a stand-out banger that I was expecting. That's what happens when you become somewhat fascinated with the woman who was the only good thing in "Blues Brothers 2000", and then learn that she claimed to find something good in Hitler, only to backtrack it a bit by saying that she simply loved his paintings. Oh, and apparently she stepped up for R. Kelly and Dr. Bill Cosby after their accusations. I regret going down the Erykah Badu rabbit hole for those reasons, but at least we have her music.

The true start of an incredible run of albums for Bowie that runs not just through the 70's but up to and including Let's Dance. I also mark it as the official taking of the baton from The Beatles (the Fab 4 influence is strong with this one). It's challenging to claim which one of Bowie's albums is his best (most will just choose one that's their favorite). But most agree there are at least five of his albums in the running as his best. The fact that there are that many speaks to Bowie's legend. And however many albums are in the running, this one has to be included in the mix. I have no qualms stating this is my favorite Bowie album.

Hard pass.

This album just begged me to hate it. And I folded, giving right in. Interesting the band is named The The, since there's no There There.

Why is this album so hard to find? Oh sure, you can find the essential track "Our House" anywhere and everywhere, which is nice since Our House is a solid 5. But the full version of this album isn't on ANY streaming service, and I love Madness, but I'm not paying twenty bucks for an import copy of this CD on Amazon. Who do we blame for this? Certainly not the band. I've loved Madness ever since I saw the video to "One Step Beyond" and heard the aforementioned "Our House". Do we blame society? A little bit, yeah.

Obvious tinge of sadness aside, one gets the feeling she had at least 8 more great albums in her. Just an incredible debut with serious Ella Fitzgerald and Nina Simone vibes. Some tend to focus on the sadness of what should have been, but we should instead appreciate the few moments she left for everyone to enjoy. My hunch is future generations will discover Amy Winehouse and hold her up with the Ella's and Nina's and even Billie Freaking Holiday