Here's my problem with this album, it's definitely my problem and not a problem of the album, per se: it's not that the other songs are bad--though they are kind of mediocre--but nothing can compare to the brilliant run of tracks A2 through A5. This is due to the vagaries of exposure, since I was a kid in the 80s and was raised on MTV (and thus these hits).
A lot of things that should never have been said are said on this vile album.
70 minutes of Friendscore torture.
This album jackhammered my brain and then molested me, leaving me confused with a butterfly tattoo trampstamp.
Psychedelic mysticism wrapped up in some good old hard rock. Does this music strike anyone else as being too warm? I mean, too warm for the Himalayas. After all, that’s the realm of the yeti.
The most beloved darling of hipsters everywhere, this album is a musical document I came to without knowing any of the cultural baggage surrounding it. It wasn't until after I'd heard and loved this album that I found out it was the darling of other music nerds, thus making me more hipster than them. Oh, and just for the record, I love Jesus Christ, too.
A perfect album for all you imperfect people out there, all you children whose mothers didn't care for you, all you kids being taught to swim by men who aren't your biological fathers, all you keen-eyed philosophers who are aware of and celebrate the fact that we're all going to die, all you sufferers who understand that there is no shade in the shadow of the Cross, and all you broken-hearted seekers wondering why people won't love you.
I love all iterations of Pink Floyd equally, be it prog or art or psych. I guess I’m just a fanboy. But this album is my favorite. Not necessarily their best, but my favorite. It soars the highest and speaks most profoundly to me, detailing in such frightening and beautiful clarity the dark heart of man, and how that darkness only increases when systematized. Unlike the ending of Animal Farm, however, this album ends with a glimmer of hope: “you know that I care what happens to you, and I know that you care for me, too.”
This one’s early in their career, before they re-watched the Japanese bousouzoku documentary and realized they’d misplaced the exclamation! mark. My response to this album is heavily influenced by my handmade limited edition vinyl copy, which includes interesting little artworks, a penny flattened by a train on the track, and a locked groove at the end of the album, so that it drones on softly into ∞, never stopping until you pick up the needle. I love that attention to detail. The music? Post-rock cowboys and trains, of course, right down to the dreamy steel guitar. What the West was built on, a waltzing homage to the emptiness of an aging and dead destiny just before the turn of the 21st century. Anyone remember that part where astronaut Dave enters the monolith as it orbits Jupiter? Yeah, this album sounds like that at one point. And then Dave evolves into a mosquito.
She sucks so much. So much. She fucking sucks. Everything I've ever heard of hers from any album sucks total ass. She fucking SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKS.
Thanks for wasting my time, rando.
*snaps fingers, points in a soldierly manner* "I want archers with fiery arrows perched there, there, and there. Second level. Covering all exits. No one escapes... Fire at will!"
80s synth landfill hardly worthy of comment.
This is actually a good album. So many sassy bangers! What a walk down memory lane! Thanks, dude who submitted this.
You must have quite a high opinion of yourself and your taste to foist a 75-minute jam band album on strangers. What the fuck is wrong with you? Rethink every life choice you've ever made.
Boy meets girl. Boy promises girl everything. Boy has a wandering eye, and boy fritters away girl's time. Girl marries man who won't waste her time. Boy crashes her wedding, regretting having wasted so much time. Girl still loves boy but moves on with her life. Boy snorts a lot of cocaine and follows her to Prague.
The whole story told in beautiful folk songs featuring the lovely Lisa Hannigan.
Paint-by-numbers, boring rock for paint-by-numbers, boring people who've not heard enough music to actually know what's good out there.
Guy who recommended this, how's much cheap beer do you consume in a given week?
This shit wears thin real quick.
One of those moments where, halfway through the first song, you shake your head in disappointment and mutter, "Fuck you."
Generic, tasteless dance music.
OP, Imma assume you already know and love https://rateyourmusic.com/release/album/garmarna/guds-speleman/
The debut album of The Alan Parsons Project that, for some reason, climbed pretty high on the Billboard pop charts, puts to music Edgar Allan Poe’s horror stories but, in my opinion, fails to evoke that horror because of the beautiful symphonic and synth feel of the album. Poe needs black metal or dark folk. “The Fall of the House of Usher”, a 16-minute long track broken into five pieces, deals with Poe’s dark themes with more substance, style, and atmosphere.
Greeeaaat. Yet another Bruce Shit-stain album. And two hours of this trash? You nominated an album over two hours long to strangers. You thought it was a good idea to say to hundreds, if not thousands, of strangers, "Hey, listen to this two-hour live album!" GET FUCKED IN THE FACE UNTIL YOU PUKE.
What an embarrassing inclusion! You standing by this lame pick? 🤣 🤣
Once there was this guy who took a trip to Singapore and brought along his spray paint, and when he finally came back, he had cane marks all over his bottom. He said that it was from when the warden whacked it so hard.
And once there was this girl who swore that one day she would be a figure skating champion, and when she finally made it, she saw some other girl who was better. And so she hired some guy to club her in the kneecap.
And then there was this guy who made his wife so mad one night that she cut off his weiner, and when he finally came to, he found that Mr Happy was missing. He couldn't quite explain it. It'd always just been there.
one of the worst albums I've ever had the misfortune of hearing
Fuck you for wasting my time. You had one album to share with the community, and you chose this. You chose this, you fuck.
Yet another abysmal '80s album.
71 minutes of bedroom pop. kms
Overrated topsters-core inclusion. OP doesn't actually care about this music, just put it here to look like he has good internet-denizen taste.
I'm so happy I completed this project and I'm now able to listen to so many albums in a row that are just utterly amazing music that I would have missed out on if I hadn't taken the time to do this project. I'm so happy that I am able... Oh what am I saying? This is utter dogshit like almost everything else in these (user-submitted and original) lists. Thanks, OP, for yet another wasted hour in which I question my life choices. Why the fuck do I solicit the opinion of strangers? Why do I involve myself in the society of people whose taste is so utterly inferior to my own?
another album for the landfill
79 minutes of ambient. Fuck you.
Should've not skipped church, Avicii. You were literally defeated, despite your protestations.
Dawg. If you want Mande music... https://rateyourmusic.com/collection/Zhanteimi/stag/mande+music/
A complete and utter waste of time. So boring I decided to get that root canal I've been putting off.
Starts off orchestral and unassuming, launches into some interesting prog folk sung in French. I even dig the more singalongable parts. Nice harmonies all around, too.
Huge TMBG fan, but this is derp.
I can't believe I'm locked in here in this challenge with yall.
The most amazing thing about this band is the fact that they can be so cool and rock out so well all while the lead singer has a lisp. Well done! That’s an amazing tightrope act. I liked this album the first time I heard it, but what sealed it in my mind as perhaps the greatest indie rock album of all time is the last track, the epic “Styrofoam Boots / It's All Nice on Ice, Alright”, a sprawling song that sounds much longer than its seven minutes. Anyway, the riffs are catchy, the melodies memorable, and the lyrics are clever and fresh with each re-listen.
I don’t know. I like this album. It’s good. But it’s not as avant as I’d expected. When I see avant-garde or free tags on jazz, I expect craziness. This music is a bit safer. I will say this, though, there's something in this music that extends beyond America's borders. Can't quite put my finger on it. I think it's the way the bass rhythms interact.
The favorite album of your neighbor of a certain age who thinks he knows music but knows nothing about it.
I like how the album opens with droning horns that devolve into playing like children. And then come the beautiful strings and lush harps. The choral singing fits perfectly. There are some highly avant moments sprinkled throughout, and even after multiple listens, I find it refreshingly difficult to predict where the unorthodox structure of the music is going to go next.
A 76-minute album. Fuck you.
Overrated band loved by no one walking around outside in real life.
An idealism that struggles to survive in the harsh realities of this world--realities devoid of love and responsibility. Both the softly-delivered lyrics and the indietronic music contain this bittersweet idealism. Whenever I listen to this album, I just smile faintly, my heart simultaneously lifted and sunk by the hopeless fight.
Faded Paper Figures released their first album five years after this was released. This has to be the inspiration for that band's sound. I mean, the band's even got two dudes and a chick.
What a useless fuckin' album
After my friend and I listened to this album, we stood back to back in nothing but our whitey-tighties, bent forward in opposite directions, stuck revolver barrels up each other's buttcracks, and pulled the triggers.
a tragic waste of my time
Truly one of the worst albums ever made
Interesting, quirkier pop. This is an electro-party of an album, chock full of not only catchy melodies and danceable beats, but being produced by Giorgio brings a playful, fresh disco scene to the music, despite it coming at the end of the 70s.
One of these tracks sounds like the melody of "I'm My Own Grandpa".
You shouldn't be allowed to participate in communal listening projects where you get to add your opinion.
This album is an absolute gem, a blast to listen to and sing along with, and just overall a fun way of dealing with what teenagers would consider "edgy" themes. MCR takes those cringey feelings of youth and puts them into interesting songs that make it all palatable.
Everything I never want to hear all wrapped up in one perfect storm of suck. Every cliche is employed. Not a single original moment.
Redundant addition to this project.
Hey, OP, did this album "break" you? Did you traumabrag on Reddit about it?
Exactly the kind of music I never want to hear.
See, the thing is: you can’t actually take a radio to the mountaintop. Yeah, I ain’t a fucking Buddhist, either, love.
A perfect storm of everything I don't want to hear in an album.
yo OP just in case you don't know... https://rateyourmusic.com/release/album/angels-and-airwaves/i-empire/
Preppy white pop music for preppy white pop people. Good stuff! Playful, clever, and more than a little bit derivative in spots.
This is the soundtrack to clubbing a baby seal with a lead snowshoe before going to a pancake restaurant and stealing the margarine. As always, the music is genius, and the lyrics are retarded, puerile, and childish—but I guess that’s Zappa’s goal across his discography.
Awful, even by hip hop's low standards.
Strokin' strokin'! Stroke!
A 130-minute live album. Fuck. You.
Shut the fuck up. Please, shut the fuck up.
Almost everything I don't want to hear crammed into the first 30 seconds of the first song. I have a 1001 reasons not to listen to this album.
Of all music, you chose Marillion. pffft What's wrong with you, OP? They are truly one of the worst bands of all time.
You thought a 69-minute album was a good idea? wtf is wrong with you, OP
Confessional, hyper specific snapshots of human relationships. What starts off as something sounding like folk made in a girl's bedroom (we have enough of that!) evolves into something fuller and having more substance, both lyrically and musically. It's not the navel-gazing I thought it would be. And her voice is just so nice: cute but not too cute. Fearlessly feminine.
Who is Emma to have inspired such a collection of soft, beautiful songs? I don't actually want to know.
Yet another irrelevant album.
Is this a troll inclusion? No one seriously likes this shlock, right?
Everything wrong with 2008 in one album.
Bro. Don't bring compilations to this kind of thing. The fuck is wrong with you?
Here's two nickels. Go buy some taste, OP. I know it ain't much cash, but anything it'll buy will be better than this.
It’s the dark neofolk that attracts me to this release. It excels at atmosphere, keeping everything mysterious and cold. Despite this being metal, I always listen to it at a low volume. This isn’t metal to “rock out” or “bang your head” to. It’s introspective, and in my experience, it goes well with black bitter. I adore the Swedish and Spanish spoken-word sections of the seventh track.
The strength of this album is that these dudes know their limit, so they know how not to overstay their welcome. Also, nice Funny Girl reference.
Truly terrible. Pick a lane!
I guess this one comes too early in the timeline to have succumbed to the tendencies of crescendo-core. This album has so much nuance, texture, and delicacy, and the presence of the vocals has a much stronger art rock feel to it than anything else. But overall they're really going for the crafting of an atmosphere, so yeah...post-rock. Anybody else feel that strong blues undercurrent?
The more famous, acoustic sister album to Digital Ash in a Digital Urn, this album is quintessential Oberst, a young poet who sings of regrets and hopes all while simultaneously understanding and being confused. This is a beautiful collection of musings on young love and substance abuse, and everything in between. Some people criticize Oberst of being a bit too smart for his own good, but what it really boils down to is his conviction. He sings with conviction, but his conviction is in his lack of conclusions. Almost no music makes me cry, but this album sometimes does, the tears coming at different spots. “I’m happy just because I’ve found out that I’m really no one”. The realization that I, too, am pretty much a nobody is a freeing and joyful revelation. “If you love something, give it away”. I’ve been to the mountaintop where what I loved most was required of me. With the same two hands with which I freely and wholeheartedly received my gift, I rendered it back. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. When I at last descended the mountain, I saw that I had grown old, and nothing mattered but that thing I loved.
pointless, donk-slobbing album
My daughter getting kidnapped would be less distressing than being made to listen to this awful album.
irrelevant addition to the project
I love PF, but fuck you for putting in a 2.5 hr live album. Doesn't matter the bend. Eat the business end of a shotgun.
Liturgical abuses...liturgical abuses everywhere! They even had a drum kit in the chapel. *shudder*
This is the album that has the greatest country western song of all time.
everything I hate in music wrapped in one of the worst albums I've ever heard... 1/10 troll, op
Barnes is talented, there’s no doubt about that. Even a talented dude sometimes needs a muse to excel beyond even his own abilities, and that’s just what he does on this album. Barnes has a lot of decent albums, but nothing that really grabs me the way this and The Sunlandic Twins do. Nina is certainly the best thing that ever happened to him and his creative spark. Too bad things didn’t work out between them, but it’s not surprising considering what an insufferable narcissist Barnes is. There are some brutal cut-downs on this album, but it’s all so goooood. There’s so much hubris on display here that it would be sickening if it weren’t wrapped up so perfectly in a pop candy wrapper and delivered so convincingly by Georgie Fruit. More things than gender are bent on this record.
bullshit band liked by bullshit people
He was birthed by the inner city. The dirty streets are his dam, the prostitute back alleys his mother. The symbolism of the album cover is no mistake: he's in his womb, and he's above the city. But the womb is one of his own making, the womb of his untouchable heart. He's wrapped himself in it like armor, protecting himself from...everything, and more importantly, from everyone. He sings of social problems, but they don't seem to affect him directly. He's outside looking in. He's in his calm bubble. He sings of what could be personal problems, but he doesn't really have any, since he eschews personal relationships.
irrelevant to pretty much everything and everyone
Riiight. I'm just gonna assume you've not heard any other jazz since this is the jazz album you decided to submit.
This is my album. Why am I getting this as the daily album? wtf
Oh...the magical year that is 1971! This album pulls no punches. It’s unapologetically pagan, especially in its exploration of rape. I can see how it might be unsettling for the modern listener, but just read a little mythology and see how common the theme of ravishment is. And I use the word “ravish” advisedly. I’ve listened to this many times, and each time I listen, I focus on a different aspect of it, from the overall impression of the world that I perceived--a world larger than life--to the feeling that everything in a pagan forest is simultaneously both brighter and darker--the contrasts are more stark, the colors more vivid. Everything about it is more. This is probably the best pagan (music) fanfic ever made. For film, it's obviously "The Wicker Man". Some pagans play the Christians at their own game: "yes yes, you go to receive your martyr's crown, and we use your blood to rejuvenate the soil, so what are you whining about?" I warn you to pay the Herald no mind, and if you heed not my warning, well, then, you get what's coming to you.
His original songs and *style* parodies (like "Genius in France" or "Albuquerque") are excellent of course, but his full albums are trash because every single parody of an actual song is fucking trash.
3h 38m. Rethink your continued existence.
fuck you for foisting on strangers a 75-minute weeb album
Without getting into the actual plot of the music or the film, these are my general impressions of just the music (without narrative). When you feel the world is against you, when the idea of social conformity frightens you, when no one (including yourself) knows the real you, when none of the street fights you've brawled in or halls you've danced in can provide any answers to the burning questions of your youth, this album is for you. This is youthful rebellion standing up and declaring that all the virtue of the world is contained in youth. I especially enjoy the sound bytes from TV and other pop culture, giving me a slice of life experience. A water motif runs throughout this opera, which makes the wordplay of "rain" and "reign" on the album's ultimate track all the better.
maybe the most overrated album of all time
maybe the most overrated album of all time
at least this trash is mercifully short
A sharper edge on the guitar playing than The Weed Tree, and thus losing some of that summer-day pastoral feeling, but still a great album.
The space ambient opening of the score is a lure darkly shining amidst the drizzle-shrouded cityscape. Beautiful retro-future moments featuring a lonely pianos and classy harps evoke memories of a future that never was. This is always a powerful listen, arresting my attention in a way few albums in my collection can, weaving a nameless yet welcome sadness in my breast. How can an album both soothe me and make me feel anxious at the same time? I guess I just feel sorry for pretty much everyone in the film. It’s such a bleak world, and can there actually be any escape?
A beautiful collaborative project that will help you simultaneously relax and transcend (in my experience, it's hard to do both at the same time). The entire album is an exploration of the possible permutations of a simple yet sustainable and repeating arpeggio. Sanders' tenor sax brings sandpaper, sex, and voice to the compositions; the symphony's strings bring uncontainable joy in the much-talked-about sixth movement. The music goes total outer-space in the seventh movement, which is such a nice and unlooked-for touch, and though there is some breakdown, the music doesn't lose itself to chaos.
To get to this point, you've listened to 1089 albums in this challenge. You presumably joined this challenge because you have more than a passing interest in music appreciation. You are not the average bear. And yet, you bring the most bland, average music ever. You had the entire catalog of amazing music at your fingertips, which you presumably know something about, but... you bring this? This? This utter shite. This insult to the entire community. This unforgivable pile of garbage.
Fuck it. What you do doesn't matter. Besides, ain't nobody gonna give you no prize. So why get out of bed? Why shave for people who don't care if you live or die? Oh, and dying young ain't going to change anything, especially when you're boldly inviting Hell. This is a very young, very American album, with all its brash defiance and infectious beauty. It's also a somewhat Jewish meditation on the role of religion, even touching most famously on the name God gives Himself when speaking to Moses at the burning bush. Couple that with a further meditation on the pain of unrequited love, and you have a perfect art pop song with all its silly faerie voices.
fake-ass cliched paint-by-numbers pastiche country... fuck outta here!
Tell everyone in the 1001+ community you're a virgin without telling everyone in the 1001+ community that you are a virgin. Not that there's anything wrong with being a virgin! Except.. when you listen to a band who has singles like "Beaver Patrol", you obviously and desperately don't want to be a virgin.
This isn't five stars, but I'm giving it five stars because so much of this user-submitted list of albums is fucking trash. Miserable trash. This is trash, too, but at least it's fun.
This is the album that got me into outlaw country. The first time I heard it, I sat up in surprise when it started, and then quickly I sat back in satisfaction. Thirty-six minutes of bliss. Barrel ridin' & back slidin' is such a perfect snapshot of the middle American, working class, Protestant experience. This whole album feels like a great big hug of every pleasure a big city can afford and then a warm embrace of every regret you feel by the cold light of day, your face turned toward home. This masterpiece has even got a couple songs about trains. Case closed.
This album is a masterpiece, that goes without saying, but after the forlorn Coney Island monologue, the whole work turns into pure magic, beaming you up while gravity yanks you down in an agonizing, ecstatic tug-of-war. It’s like everything before that was a prologue, a warm-up. The guitars playing whack-a-mole with the trumpets, the cloudbursts of music followed by periods of calm, the glimmering guitars creating heat mirages on the horizon, the orchestral tempest, melancholy piano meeting megaphone ranting... and you realize in that moment just how right they are for each other. A palimpsest of messages ease you deeper (higher?) into the world of GY!BE's journey. Listen to the music of men who are themselves master listeners of the world around them. Let them sing you a lullaby as they put to sleep the past and all the things you cannot reclaim.
This band was my introduction to dark jazz back in 2018, a genre clearly inspired by film noir soundtracks. This is all atmosphere, smooth night music good for listening to or just having on in the background.
