Music for incels to wank furiously by

the dark side of the moon is the boring one

boring BORING boring that's right, it's a boring sandwich

Imagine if the apocalypse came and this carnival of janglewhine actually _was_ the last broadcast. Sheesh.

this is the sort of album that makes you feel small until you realise it's Vegas cabaret schmaltz, not decadent chaise-longue sophistication

Black Sabbath, right? Bats! Satan! Ozzzzzzy! Sharon, Kelly, Jack and that one who only ever appeared as a blur of pixels getting something out of the fridge! Never been much more than a joke band to me, which is unfair because this album is really pretty badass. Still sounds fresh, amazingly, and I am not the kind of rockist beard-stroker who says that about every piece of vinyl pressed before 1980.

An album I never really listened to because I thought grunge was boring. I still think it's boring. I'd probably have appreciated this more if I was listening to it (a) played live (b) with an ear to the lyrics. But I wasn't, so I didn't.

Unsurprisingly (to me) juvenile lyrics and surprisingly (to me) sophisticated production. Adult me would still be embarrassed to admit publicly to liking it, but my inner teenager enjoyed it a lot.

I'm sure this was very important and groundbreaking in its day and all that. But now it just sounds like the soundtrack to the bit in a buddy movie when the buddies inadvertently get into a fight in a dodgy bar. I suppose someone had to do it first.

This may have been a departure from her formerly folkier-than-thou oeuvre, but to me it just comes over as if someone got their hands on the Blood Makes Noise dial and then only turned it up to 2. It goes up to 11, folks

doop bloop doop bloop

Hard to guess what this might sound like to fresh ears, but to my older ones it is a perfect balance of black, white and the shades of grey in between. Over time, the knees-up familiarity of the hits has drowned out the angst and anger of the rest. The dubby album version of Too Much Too Young came as the biggest surprise, but ultimately a welcome one: it takes the song to a more mournful place than the spikier no-future version we're used to.

In homage to a former housemate, who was obsessed to the point of mania by this album, I played it very loudly in a room down the corridor to the one I was sitting in. I can report that the obvious MVP tracks retain their five-star ratings, while the filler remains filler.

Buck sure does a lot of rollin' and fallin', as well as occasionally dyin', on this record. Sad times roll on, as do the good; fallin' into love and out of it. Someone needs to reorder this into a consistent narrative. Ain't gonna be me, though.

boring BORING boring that's right, it's a boring sandwich

I've never really felt the need to investigate The Stranglers because I don't enjoy feeling sordid while listening to music, a sensation this album elicited very effectively. Mission accomplished, I guess?

Goes big and then goes home. Saving a star for the next one

Not so much Pulp as pith and vinegar

Morrissey's preoccupation with a halcyon Britain largely of his own imagining was mildly disquieting even in the heyday of the Smiths - hinting at a social and political alignment at odds with that of many of his admirers. This album marks the point at which he started to say the quiet part out loud - as was obvious to many when it was released, despite the efforts of his apologists to explain away its questionable aspects. Whatever he intended with its title, it reads today as a declaration of intent. Yeah yeah yeah, but shouldn't we distinguish between the artist and his work? Fortunately we can sidestep that thorny issue, because this album, Mozza's first without the benefit of Marr's guitar, amounts to no more than a couple of lukewarm singles and a wodge of nondescript filler.

What's 'e like? WHAT IS 'E LIKE? Buffalo Stance is a six (all hail Bomb The Bass), the rest is a three-star pottage of late '80s production tics, and none the worse for it.

Short bites, bittersweet.

I think you had to be there.

If they'd kept the original song titles, this would have been the running order: Rio de Janeiro Boogaloo My Love, My Life Dum Dum Diddle Knowing Me, Knowing You Been And Gone And Done It Coachman's Farm Tiger Fiol The bangers are the bangers, the rest is cacophodisco. Apart from "Coachman's Farm", which apparently only got to live its best life as a single in Japan, and the hair-raising conclusion of the otherwise entirely unmenacing "Tiger".

The year this album came out, I went on a long road trip around the Southwest of the USA. Wish I'd known about it then. Not that it would have made much difference, since the rental didn't have a CD player.

The sound of the Eighties, was often to throw in everything up to and including the kitchen sink. That's what this album sounds like. But _soulfully_

tedious raunch dressing slathered on a rap-rock nothingburger

The rousing final instalment of the Depeche Mode Trilogy, before they went all Extended Universe

meh

some bits super, some bits trampy

this is what I thought punk sounded like when I was a small child, and I was right

It's not often you can describe an album as foofy *and* splanky, but this is a rare example!

it's like that and that's the way it is

slouches along amiably enough for the first half, kicks it up a notch for the second. low end indeed

maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but at least we've moved on from indie and Britpop

Thanks to this album, Wikipedia and a helpful friend, I am now aware of the existence of the genre "sophisti-pop", which I can now avoid for the remainder of my life

whinin' and moanin' gettin' pretty ooooold

Downloaded this for free as part of the great pay-what-you-want experiment back in the day, excited by one of the world's biggest bands choosing to go off grid. But at the time I didn't rate it much. Now Spotify makes it available for free too, but it doesn't *feel* free, it feels like part of the same old rotten recording industry system. And I enjoyed it a lot more this time. I guess you get what you think you paid for?

This would have been better as a double album: one LP for just the music and one for the singing

gnirob

ecumenical, atemporal, dissonant! what more is there to say

ain't nuthin' ta f' wit

fries the whole herring for the sake of the roe

in the middle of the road you see the darndest things

I wanna hear the original Songs About Buildings And Food

It is hard to understand how this served on the soundtrack to Justice League, but it works surprisingly well as the world's gloomiest Christmas album. People Ain't No Good, huh Nick?

I mean you can't knock the Wall of Sound, but my reaction to a Christmas gift from Phil Spector is more "what's in the box?! WHAT'S IN THE BOX" than "ooh how lovely but I didn't get you anything"

Some albums are hardy beasts, capable of cutting through even the most unsympathetic of ambiance. This is not one of them

Numan never got the respect he deserved, did he?

Started listening to this, fell asleep and woke up irritated

Amiable & ignorable

Imagine if the apocalypse came and this carnival of janglewhine actually _was_ the last broadcast. Sheesh.

Does what it says on the tin.

The found percussion is mildly interesting, the songs are mildly boring. A perfect 2.5 but I'll round up

all over the shop & all the better for it

something for everyone, nothing for everybody

wee, twee, too sweeet for meeee

He's not called the Boss for nothing.

The stand-outs are the stand-outs, the rest are a bit relentlessly shouty

"When a man sees his black star, he knows his time...has come."

the words "rock" and "opera" should always be separated by a great deal of lorem fucking ipsum

Of all the guest stars, I think I was most surprised to hear Mrs Mills on piano

r.e.s.p.e.c.t.

some glorious moments, but feels like a chrysalis for careers as yet unborn

Ideal treehouse listening

it's not hip hippie happening

Live, in every sense

stone it up, fuzzball

why try harder?

I wanna stan but no way I can

saturn has all the best tunes.

Is it possible to be good to a fault at playing the guitar?

clicking and singing along

a great album if you don't actually listen to it

That's a lot of Wonder.

Fwod pilf ti dan esrever ti/ I tup ym gnith

Also ran.

new-age, space-age

swansongs

needs more gravel

I'd rather be watching The Littlest Hobo

some thriller, some filler

gallops along like a spooked thoat

Music for incels to wank furiously by

kicks like a mule. a very docile mule

Music to submerge yourself by

alligator / space invader

at this remove, really just _a_ band

at this remove, really just _a_ band

swing your pants

jangle jangle bloop whooooooo

if mr ocean really is the finest songwriter of his generation, we should be investing more heavily in interpretive dance

furry, fuzzy, forgettable

"we thought that hair styles would be the first thing to date"

self-pity is a steel guitar

time has blunted this one

stuck in second

sounds like the cure, but in miniature

more carrion than criminal

this is the sort of album that makes you feel small until you realise it's Vegas cabaret schmaltz, not decadent chaise-longue sophistication

main street, mainstream, amirite?

a pub rock band fronted by a leopard

if the jaws theme had a groove on it

i am not a number / you are number 666

"The album's usage at Pittsburgh Airport in 1982 brought on a barrage of complaints from passengers who said its uncertain tones made them feel uneasy and demanded that the previous background music be restored."

krap

the sound of young MTV

amazing talent, splendid songs, left me cold

gesamtwerk. and some bonus flutes

"I remember looking into that building, and they kept telling me there were animals in there, and I was pissed off ... I didn't know why they were making me look in this building. I had no idea there were photographers there. I was ... pissed off that I couldn't see the animals and I was all cranky by the end of it." Me too

festival rock. don't particularly care about the band but it's a lovely day and everyone is having a good time. bunting, plastics of beer, think I might eat a dubious burger

green onions and gammon organ

not the end, but The End of the beginning

for relax on retail park rally

I wish he had

putting the lunge into grunge

windy city, windy record

bongos good, unbongos not so much

fela, femi, femto?

well-tempered

aftermeh

"She later stated that when she chose the title, she was looking for a word that meant "running away with honor"" i ran away without it

Starts ICE, ends Thomas the Tank Engine

the A to Z of 80s samples

unaexpectedly aewsome

musical flatulence

it's the mocktail hour again

andré 2000

blue cheer sounds like a frat party experiment gone wrong, and so does this record

gigantic torso, refused to resolve

jaunty! (reads bio) oh no

On again, off again

more chilling than burning

folk hop, flute bop

duck done good

variations on a theme of squeak

a countdown that never reaches blast-off

gateway dirge

grand guignol x croon

replace _this_

don't forget the joker

sure shots and occasional misfires

ask not for whom the tea tills, it tills for thee

proto prunk proetry

that bulletproof vest though

4-bit nancy graphics

more pointdexter than sinister

boy if he could see it now

lukewarm mice

one laid-back shack

music to race motor cars to

close to the edge

imitation is the sincerest form of tedium

taytay gogo popop

yowl and gibber, rock and roll

Why you would listen to this when you could listen to Armenian Pop Music (1980) by Hamlet Minassian?

stories from the sky?

except mediocrity rewarded

it just smells that way

slow waves

pioneering synth-pop classic

never-ending mania

draft punk

amiable, then interminable

lycanthropy rap

brat rap

to rock a rhyme

bucks fizz x dire straits. bucks straits? dire fizz?

crazy like a rox

zeppelin biplane

kraut! rock!

a bang on the ear all right

lambent l'ambient

raw talent x megabucks production = love island montage soundtrack

bjorn apart

beta

BROOOOOOOOCE

between pop and a hard place

freakily beautiful

Beaten with a Brazilian bludgeon

bjrötica, not bjömbast

post dad-rock

is that a little smile bob? you dog

britpap

lounge western

a lunatic / a psychonaut

by name, by nature

imagine how good this might have been if he had given a shit

angst-wader

straight down the middle of that gravel road

is that a sackbut? no, it's a krummhorn

king of Bongo Bong

take it easy, e

a WORMHOLE to the FUTURE

don't want to

IV to the floor

nu nu nu shazbot

getting high to getting low

big in japan, recursively enough

viiiiiiibbbbrrrrratttttoooo

fool's gold for a generation

i choose the middle way

i want to be a duck

still does

i'll have the carbonara

if only I had given LZ IV four stars

highest common domininator

misery has never been less fun

consider me unschooled

dadrock done right

i am something that you'll never comprehend

yes, that was it

c'est mostly filler

the prehistory of sludge

ziggy sold out to break america

oblivious to its title's premise

even a genius has his off days

no, _you're_ a buffet

alt!

five inch nails

boat party, no vote party

misery memoir, the album!

brown without bloat

mublanikufesin

sweaty cover, sweaty record

the gumshoe and the hepcat, original soundtrack recording

block rockin'

more hushed than hoped

a micro shift indeed

G D C G A, then ad lib

bants behind bars with the man in black

and so is this album

not well served by orpington

avant hard

did little

now do summer of '69

how do you sleep

unfitted to our post-truth times

you're making plans to leave me, I'm making plans to miss you

there are worse things to stick in your ear

baby's on fire

extended play runs on too long

never let me down never let me down never let me down never let me down

flow, hooks, beats, vitriol

lawful neutral

he's no GG Allin

i did try to

the dark side of the moon is the boring one

would you like to like mmm ahhh nnnhh a rolling sleep with me nnnh

oxygen destoroyah

bored on a wire

why did the Beatles cross the road

return of the jledi

Swelvet skeymon

sound of snilver

shocked by this rock

no

i don't have enough elbows

why was it not just called Grunge

I'm not as fair as Mr Wicks

bouge-y wonderland

isn't anything (much)

i'll give you two bob

The Velveteen Underground

alt del

no, nothing mate

like kidney stones

why do platelets never get any love

diet tropicola

steel city & western

y no led zep VI tho

the only problem was john denver

nominative determinism FTW

where is my mind? in the bathroom apparently

tfw you go round that kid from school's house for a slightly awkward dinner and afterwards their mildly odd uncle produces a guitar and suggests a sing-along, then they all warble and clap to some very odd hymns you've never heard before, and then their eyes on you are gleaming

everything all at once

needed more camelids

and yet farther away than ever

yelp cry rock

I'm glad they seemed to be having a good time

that reminds me, i really must get a competitive quote for my home insurance

whatalovelydayontheinternetdog.jpg

is this allowed?

world up

tweedious

like being buffed into submission with a chamois leather

go-fastre stripes

one star added for the micronap I enjoyed during the middle of freebird

more smushing than smashing I would say

nearly flying free

something's fishy in this bouillabaisse

forgettable

i'd like to find the person who first told David Byrne he could sing, and then shake that person by the hand

One of the better Marvel adaptations

sleep life

the drugs don't work, and this album has been cut with Vim

a little too much sprawl

and this is what the blues are for in 2022

fireworks explosion in a saucepan factory, here for it

Molasses

the beginning of a thousand vibrato bleatings

otis soul: otis blueing sings blues by otis blueing

bad company by name, bad company by nature although if they had called themselves "crap music" that would have been even more apposite

the sound of a cookie crumbling

"I don't know the words of this song but I'm going to sing it anyway"

certainly had me crawling the carpet

on yer bike mate

Halfway through this I wished it was Modern Romance, and their best song was "Ay Ay Ay Ay Moosey", so that's saying something

who knew a thrash band called megadeth would be such a bunch of hippy new age peaceniks

stay lonely, pal

I mean, they were not lying, it *is* music

probably the most languid mecha battle ever recorded

nothing's shocking

makes three

find the tune, win a prize

dues-paying blues tends to the snooze

Bowie, truly the chameleon of rock

respect the void

punk's not dead! well it is now

2 Songs

bad tab mate?

In 1963 Nikolai Kardashev proposed that the then-unidentified radio source could be evidence of a Type II or III extraterrestrial civilization on the Kardashev scale.[3] Follow-up observations were announced in 1965 by Gennady Sholomitskii, who found that the object's radio emission was varying;[6] a public announcement of these results on April 12, 1965, caused a worldwide sensation.

a bold claim, doomed to failure

the king is meh

At least Immortan Joe had that flame-throwing guitar guy

andrew eldritch: we're not a goths also andrew eldritch: "dance the ghost with me"

Rebellion doesn't get any gentler than this

it's minus four out there guv

they should have just signed sparky's magic guitar

not my state of mind

ziggy iggy

average song length: 1'42": not outstaying their welcome

still trying to figure out how a liquid sword would work

deserves a star for the bookmobile

by the end of this, so was I

I felt affectionate towards this record, in the same way I would towards a 16-year-old telling me about joining Extinction Rebellion

You ex-hib-ition-ist

should have just jumped

silver, not gold

moar octagon, less cologyst please

when the maudlin poet turns out to be a manipulative psychopath. fuck this faux-miserabilist bullshit

just a little too jack sprat for my liking

surf's down

moar harmonica! moar!

appropriately named

garbage by garbage is garb- no, it's all right actually

peter gabriel by peter gabriel is not as good as peter gabriel by peter gabriel or peter gabriel by peter gabriel or, for that matter, peter gabriel by peter gabriel

why paint your face red when you can do it with computer graphics. this record has a lot to answer for

it was

so unself-consciously preposterous as to transcend doubt and come out the other side

If they'd cut a third of the songs and sped the rest up by a quarter, it'd be an eighth less frustrating

jesus, he wants to go to venus

hymn to the unknown session musician

pissing it down here, guv

"all this modern music is boom bang-a-bang noise" - my dad, 1981

castanet guitars and Leslie piano have never sounded better. Or worse. nor has the gorilla on drums

tide's gone out

you can really hear the beard

the power of christ compells you ... to listen to the very end

Old Wine in New Bottles

we hope you enjoyed your stay! please leave us a review on TripAdvisor and come again soon

django!

please

but who was the zeppo

saucygroovydull

there is nothing that makes a man jaunt so much as the knowledge he shall be hanged in the morning

Sateen, more like

you reap what you sow

brothers in harms

i still dream / of Algernon

sorry, did you say something?

i got all my sisters with me, which is easy, because I don't have any

i dreamt it was over

you got me on my knees

as it turns out, I did

unexpected cowboy

simz fair enough to me

hey nonny nonny WOAH

scraping the barrel

all the best hooks are taken

crappy bad

knot my thing

lagos. who knew?

n v g

pew! pew! peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

HERE COME DA TUBA

taytay go yawnyawn

too trippy not tricky

dolphins on cocaine? with _my_ reputation?

a cover speaks a thousand words

and lieve

double 10" album format does not stream well, alas

WHEN THEY MEAT IT WAS MOIDER

more of a distant silvery orb

emo for pyros

a bouncy half-hour of pop that should engage no 21st century adult for longer than its running time

MEIN GOTT

everything and the girl

this album does not exist, and perhaps it shouldn't have

more embers than pyrotechnics

some call me the sad cowboy | some call me the gangster of glum

mocked by hippies

if a junkyard got hold of the karaoke mic

should have stayed there

best lore in the music buzzzinezzz

Blur's third best album

whatever

whoopie

you can't always get what you want

Can't beat the sagacious verdict of a earlier reviewer: Shit is ass

Only got to half-mast

but it was the listeners who lost

that's the problem with digital: no flammable panties

smooooooooooo00000000000000000000000000oooooooooooooooth

needed more cowboy

why are these songs not taught in schools? because that's where you go to learn shit you can use, jack white. although you seem to have done all right, tbf

Golf is a good walk spoiled, and this is a good d'n'b workout befouled

missed the target

qawwali and response

I am now