Once upon a time, there was a very nice style called Prog Rock, that just looooooved to have little musical adventures, going to the jazzy woods one day, sailing over the experimental lakes on another one, or climbing on the back of their friend Hard Rock, the gentle giant of the East, on yet another one of those innocent years from the early seventies. Some mean, mean children mocked Prog Rock sometimes, but Prog Rock didn't care. First because *other* children still liked Prog Rock well enough. But most of all, because Prog Rock was a good-natured, spontaneous sort of style. And in the land of music, as long as all styles were sincere, creative and artful, they were liked well-enough. Once in a while, Prog Rock took herself a little too seriously, that's true. But her heart was always in the right place: all she ever wanted to do was to create a world of musical wonders for other children to enjoy (wonders named King Crimson, Pink Floyd, Yes, Genesis, Soft Machine, Robert Wyatt, Procol Harum...). Who could blame Prog Rock for all that, really? Little did Prog Rock know that the Eighties were looming on the horizon, and that they had sent to the land of music a band of ruffians known as Rush, led by Geddy Lee, the wicked witch of the west. Geddy Lee had a voice like nails on a chalkboard and a brain the size of a pea. But if he couldn't sing gracefully, or write interesting lyrics, he was still shrewd enough to find ways to get what he wanted from the lands of music. He went to Prog Rock and said: "Look at our trinkets, child, and listen to our nice "modern" sounds--do you like them?" "I'm not sure," Prog Rock answered. "But people say I have an adventurous spirit. Maybe I could try them, as weird as they seem to me now. Maybe I could turn them into something good." "Yes, maybe," Geddy Lee replied. "But please, don't overthink it--make the same weird sort of time-signatures you usually enjoy, sure. But don't ever make anything that would be too mesmerizing or graceful in terms of melody. Fill your creations with *stuff*: soulless technical prowess, dumb heavy-metal guitar solos, flashy shenanigans... *That's* the most important thing to do for our masters the Eighties." "The... Eighties?" Prog Rock asked. Out of the corners of her eyes, Prog Rock saw that one of the Rush members was trying to ride on the back of Hard Rock, the gentle giant of the east. Hard Rock was shaking and fiercely resisting. Prog Rock felt a lump in her throat. Something was going awfully wrong here... "What... What are you here for?" Prog Rock asked Geddy Lee. "We're here to make music with you," Geddy Lee answered with a sly pout on his lips. "How about giving me a little kiss, for starters? I'm sure this will make the most beautiful sound ever." "I'm... I'm not sure I want to," Prog Rock stammered with fear in her heart. "C'mon... Just one little kiss" "No." But Geddy Lee had already grasped his hands around Prog Rock's waist: "C'MON YOU FUCKING BITCH, GIVE ME THAT FUCKING KISS NOW, OR I'M GONNA KILL YA" All around him, the Rush members suddenly produced machine guns and started to shoot everything around them. Horrid sounds started to be heard throughout the lands of music. Most of the children were horrified--but *a few* of them liked those tragic sounds, oddly enough. Some of those kids were dumb and mean, as suggested earlier. And among them, a few actually liked shallow and soulless creations. Geddy Lee looked at Prog Rock in the eye: "Give me what I want, or I swear to you, I'm gonna make you squeal..." But Prog Rock resisted, just like Hard Rock did. Mad with anger and frustration, Geddy Lee took out a knife. For one second, it flashed under Prog Rock's eyes. It is said that when Geddy Lee stabbed Prog Rock, a horrid and hackneyed synth sound resonated all around the lands, the same sound that can be heard in the first seconds of "Tom Sawyer": "Tcccccchhhhhhiiioooooooooonk..." And so Rush plundered and pillaged the lands of music. But they were only the *first* harbingers of doom. Marillion came not long after, for instance. And *other* styles in the lands would quickly be violated and emptied of their true meaning, just like Prog Rock after her lifeblood left her when Geddy Lee stabbed her to death. And that, kiddies, is how the Eighties took over the lands of music and murdered several important styles. Other survived and thrived after the Eighties' demise, fortunately. But that's a story for another time, I guess... The end. At least, the end of Prog Rock, sadly. Number of albums left to review: 690 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 151 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 87 (including this one)

Give me rap-rock or rap-metal crossover albums anytime. Give me a *bit* of nu-metal, even. Give me heavy guitar riffs, true rebellion, sharp politically-minded lyrics. Or, on the contrary, give me brutally sincere descriptions of personal malaise. Anything that finds an artistically relevant way to scream: "I'm alive, this world is fucked up, I suffer, but I'm alive!". Give me Rage Against The Machine, System Of A Down, Deftones, the "Judgment Night" motion picture soundtrack... Even the early Korn albums can work out... But don't give me this overbloated, overproduced turd of a record. Heck, turds have taste at least, or so I hear. :) As you can, I won't mince words about this band (and first album). But I've got my reasons. To me, *Hybrid Theory* is indeed the epitome of blandness--nothing in it *feels* honest or authentic. You might tell me Chester Bennington's lyrics drew from his difficult childhood experience, I just can't find a way to *care* about them. Because the end results here are just plain corny--there's none of the strong imagery delivered by his pal Chino Moreno, for instance, or the latter's intense, dynamic performance throughout Deftones' discography. The so-called "rebellion" or "malaise" in Linkin' Park's lyrics actually amount to pointing at nothing in particular, with vague references about "bad memories" and the likes. And those lyrics are just *one* ingredient among others in a mechanical formula. They just have nothing to say. And they even manage to say it badly. The same goes for the cheesy, dated rapping, or the vocal lines for the choruses and singing parts, which are *always* predictable--unimaginative melodies copied-and-pasted over unimaginative guitar riffs, so slick and clean they actually sound like synths. Because no, the instrumentation is not good either, as competent the performers (or production tools) are. The band does the same thing all over again, mostly, with the same sort of lazy, overdone tricks being applied from start to finish. Guitar saturation is here used to raze everything to the same orderly level, devoid of any true *life*. A paradox of sorts, which owes more to protools shenanigans than any thought-out concept behind the music. Which makes sense, given that saturation is also used here to hide the lack of any shred of meaningful idea. That's probably what's "Hybrid" in the "Theory" here--this thing being *both* lifeless AND brainless. Even the electronic/abstract hip hop asides suck, minus the very short "Cure For The Itch", maybe--but to be fair, this minor track towards the end is nothing but a secondhand attempt at a DJ Shadow-like instrumental... And just as everything in the album--that awful cover, for instance--its inclusion in the tracklisting looks like a decision made by a corporate committee, not one made by a real, genuine band showing personality. And just like everything else, it's a stylistic dead end. *Hybrid Theory* made millions, admittedly (not necessarily a sure sign of quality, but OK). It sold a hold a huge lot. Yet it's a dead-end nonetheless. Void. Sterile. We can just all be glad and grateful that teens or kids these days are not listening to such crap anymore. At least, they'll make *fresh* mistakes of their own... In the light of Bennington's still recent suicide, this personal judgment about what is merely a piece of art here might sound harsh, of course, even exaggerated. May the man rest in peace, God bless his soul, and so on... May people who go through what he had to go through, just like Chris Cornell or Kurt Cobain, or anybody else, find the help they need to survive. To be honest, I wish that this band had at least provided Bennington that catharsis he so direly needed to get better. And this aside obviously goes beyond any personal tastes about music. One could have hoped that years after their first commercial success, Linkin' Park's singer might have found some meaning in his life. But things don't always work out that way, even when you manage to "make it". Friends who knew Bennington seem to say he was a good person. I don't know, I didn't know him. But I just hope that fans who are reading this understand I have nothing against the man. I simply didn't like the artist, and the band he was part in. These things happen... As for the rest, be aware that hope comes in many forms, and that if music, good or bad, can't save you, you can *still* find other ways out--through reaching out to friends or a family genuinely caring for you, or through mental health professionals. Anything that can help you get better. But I'd rather hear about who Chester Bennington was as a person rather than having to listen to his music again. It's not for me. In a way, critics' accusations that the band had "sold out" for 2017's pop-oriented *One More Light*--that they now suddenly sounded "as if they were selected by committee", to be more precise--were totally and absolutely nonsensical to my ears. Because to me, they've *always* been this way. A few yellings and heavy guitar riffs here and there couldn't hide the fact that they've never been the sharpest knife in the drawer, musically speaking. And Bennington's offensive public replies to those misguided critics did not only show how fragile his mental state was, but also how lost he was as to the sort of audience his band had entertained for all these years. And there's probably a good reason for that. Because a) that audience had never been picky for sure. And b) it was dwindling album after album anyway. In all honesty, it's a bit of a mystery *who* this music is aimed at today, in 2022 (both for what it was in 2017 AND what it had been in 2000). And this, also, makes me kinda sad... Not for Bennington, this time, but for the standards generally followed by this list of records. So next, please... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 887 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 59 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 26 (including this one)

Being a native French speaker, I've always been aware of the cultural importance of Jacques Brel, even though as a young and hip amateur of mostly *anglo-saxon* music, I was merely relegating him to a singer for older generations, someone who did not have anything relevant to teach the careless youngster that I was. But now that I've gotten older myself, comfortably lying on the couch of my cozy living-room as I'm writing this feature on my phone, I might obviously know a little better. The question is: why did I *really* change my mind about Jacques Brel? Is it because of my current, somewhat comfortable surroundings that I can fully appreciate *chansons* now? Have I turned into an unapolegetic *bourgeois* in the space of only two decades? Or is all of that irrelevant? If it's because I've turned into a *bourgeois*, the irony is priceless here. Indeed, Brel's wit, sharp eye and acerbic tongue were almost never better channeled than when he used those assets to paint vitriolic portraits of the elder generations of his own time--all those sad, well-off, self-righteous sods never able to admit they cornered themselves into lives ultimately devoid of any meaning. Truth be told, in Brel's songs are *also* other sorts of lessons, though, and ones I could have started learning as a young man. When the Belgian singer depicts younger characters, for instance, his powers of observation are still very much on point, both conveying the humanity and pathetic shortcomings of those characters through the same jeering-yet-elegant wink to his audience. Flawed dunces and endearing dollards can be found in all age groups. And Brel never missed a chance to remind us of this. Of course, there's a third, more elegiac streak running throughout his catalogue of tunes, which gave out all those signature songs most French speakers still remember today. And for those, Brel was as 'emo' as any tortured young rock act can get. Just listen to those tracks. Even if you're not speaking French, you might still sense the emotion seeping through the perfomance itself, if not through the words used (the man was also a fine actor who had learned this secondary trade exclusively through his experience as a performer giving it all onstage). If anything, English-speaking artists with a keen eye for details and an overall flair for the dramatic--artists such as Scott Walker, Nina Simone, David Bowie, Judy Collins or Nick Cave--certainly sensed this emotion we've just mentioned here. Hence their wonderful covers of Brel's *repertoire*. Recorded live in 1964 at the legendary Parisian venue *L'Olympia*, this record, as short as its original version was, does a very fine job displaying the three different streaks of songcraft we've spotted up there. Subsequent CD versions later included parts of the show left out from the original 30-minute album, with Brel staples such as "Les bonbons", "Mathilde", " Les bigotes", "Les bourgeois", "Jef" and "Au suivant". But even without those popular extraneous cuts, this live album is essentially Jacques Brel at his best. "Les vieux" (*Old Folks*), about old-timers waiting for death, is for example one of his cruellest songs, because as heartwrenching and detailed as the lyrics are, they can also elicit many mocking snarls in response. Dark comedy and tragedy go hand in hand throughout the tune, whose chorus revolves about a clock relentlessly counting the seconds left before the final demise, nicely supported by a piano motif insisting on each of those fateful seconds. Musicality is rarely forgotten in Brel's *oeuvre*, as shown in most of those cuts here, even though such oeuvre is first and foremost narrative-driven in nature. Death is also central in two other songs, "Le dernier repas" and "Tango funèbre". The first track pictures the narrator's "last meal" with his entourage, the second depicts his burial, and both are unforgettable lessons in songwriting, ones that Nick Cave, as a connoisseur of Brel's body of work, probably remembered when he penned the similarly-themed "Lay Me Low" for *Let Love In*.  Freeloaders and sycophants shedding crocodile tears unavoidably find their way into the afflicted crowd in those songs, closely watched by Brel's ghost. This makes the titular 'tango' in the second track, already a wonderful piece of music, even more gripping, chilling and wry. Old parasites in funerals aside, younger people are also mocked during the gig, as in "Les Timides" (*Shy people*), where inapt wannabe lovers make fools of themselves under Brel's unforgiving eye ("they just blush and *crawfish*", the singer tells us--yes, "crawfish" is used as a verb here, which is just as grammatically wrong or off-kilter in French as it is in English). And both age groups seem to be derided in "Les jardins du casino" ("In The Casino's Gardens"), a precise study of bourgeois pettiness that goes from micro to macro in its ironic breadth. As great as those tracks are, however, this live album wouldn't be the historical document it is today without two songs counting among the most famous Brel ever penned whenever he decided to dive headlong into full epic scope. The first of those songs, "Amsterdam", was actually never recorded in a studio, so what we have here is the definitive version, and it does not take a seer to understand why this sweeping tale of sailors and whores rubbing shoulders (and more) in the midst of a drunken, lascivious haze didn't need a studio recording after this live capture at the Olympia venue. Brel's voice is incredible here, each and every one of its inflexions adding weight and meaning to the words sung or yelled. And the orchestra supporting that voice is the *coup de grâce*, its head-spinning instrumentation placing you right in the middle of this grotesque waltz of beautiful losers. You can almost see the lights and lanterns of the harbour behind the dancers. In three minutes, you've been to the Netherlands and back, and it's a trip you will never forget. As for the second legendary track, "Le plat pays" (*The Flat Country*), a very personal ode to Belgium--slow, grim and yet quite tender--there *is* a studio version of it, contrary to "Amsterdam". But this live rendition, backed up by strings circling above the desolate land like so many flocks of crows, equals it, if it doesn't actually surpass any other version available today. *Olympia 64* is therefore one of the best entry points into Brel's whole body of work, and as such, deserves to be remembered as the timeless classic that it is. One could argue that studio albums *Ces gens-là*, *N*4 (La valse à mille temps)* or the later rerecording of old songs *Ne me quitte pas* could be equally relevant if you wish to get acquainted with the inspired and inspiring Belgian singer. Either those, or any of the comprehensive compilations sold out there. But if first, you want to sense the powerhouse that Brel was as a live performer, *this* is the record to start with. It is by no means a rock 'n roll album. Actually, it's almost the opposite in every way. But for anyone interested in the French language, or international novelty curios, the emotions such a record provides are not so far off the mark compared to more "modern" strands of music. Ask David Bowie, Nick Cave or Nina Simone if you're still having doubts about the whole thing. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 993 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 2 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 4 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 3 ]

Some people are too smart for their own good. You've probably met those sorts of guys before. They're often sitting in the back of the office or the classroom, having that distanced 'I-can't-be-bothered' stare, idly turning their head towards the urban smog outside the window, as if listening to their own inner teacher or boss instead of the real man in charge. If you're a little intrigued by all that cynical, borderline-nihilistic reserve, you sometimes find yourself talking to such a person during coffee breaks, just to see what they're all about. Soon, however, you realize you won't gain much from the conversation anyway, and often leave that coffee break even more nonplussed than you were before. You admit still being fascinated a little, but the unobtrusive words exchanged on the surface keep on screaming "boredom" to your ears. The only real problem being that you don't know for sure if said boredom actually belongs to that person you talked to, or if it's just *yours*. That bloke is *Modern Life Is Rubbish*-era Damon Albarn. Too smart for his own good, and thereby missing a chance to genuinely impress or fully convince you. Admittedly, this doesn't mean there's absolutely anything Damon and his pals from Blur couldn't say with some sort of force or intent when they recorded their second, aptly-named, album. There is, actually. "For Tomorrow" is nothing but a stellar opener, for example (more on that later), nicely paying homage to a oh-so-brit tradition established by the Kinks--whose shadow obviously looms above the first part of Blur's career (minus-*Leisure*) with decidedly good aftereffects overall. Here the vocal melody floats with a bittersweet, mock-happy-go-lucky charm that belies the existential dread underneath the song itself, and it takes a full string section towards the end of that gem to reveal the full tragedy at hand in that tale about postmodern dread. Following that great introduction, "Advert" is a little punky masterpiece that snarls and rattles the point of the album's title home even better than the opener. The schoolboy's lament "Pressure on Julian", a swampy track that foretells left-field, grungy elements from *Blur* and *13*, owes a lot to Graham Coxon's admirable chops on his six strings, the sort of musical sprinkling that can't hurt a second-tier song. As for "Turn It Up", it is a bouncy pop song that gives some needed levity at the eleventh hour (even though it's no "Song 2" or "Girls And Boys" either). This list of assets could go on, of course. Production is flawless (courtesy of long-time collaborators Steve Lovell and Stephen Street). Arrangements are artful. But are those tracks *memorable*? Do you remember *that* guy from your old classroom now, as well-dressed as he was? Probably not. Let's just hope that lad's nihilistic stance hasn't triggered him to do the worst and harm himself at some later points of his life at least. "He's a twentieth century boy / With his hands on the rails / Trying not to be sick again / And holding on for tomorrow". This is how the album starts, namely as an inverted T-Rex anthem where contemplations about suicide have taken the place of the usual calls to hedonism enacted throughout the history of rock'n'roll. On the same song, Damon tells a little more about the alienated individuals having such self-destructive thoughts: "Jim stops and gets out of the car / Goes to a house in Emperor's Gate / Through the door and to his room / And then he puts the TV on / Turns it off and makes some tea". Vacant life at its most obvious here. See also "Blue Jeans": "Blue, blue jeans I wear them every day / There's no particular reason to change / My thoughts are getting banal, I can't help it". Uh, OK, Damon, we *get* it. Consumer society and constant commodification play their parts gnawing us all into tiny little squibs devoid of all life. But the point is: do *you* have to sound so bored yourself to hammer that idea home? Isn't that overkill? C'mon, chin up. Shake a leg. You're turning into an annoying, humourless slob here, and this might go against your first intent, don't you think? Because... well, yes, duh: *Modern Life Is Rubbish* says it straight right from its title. You can't relax ("Star Shaped"), you're barfing on food and drugs to vent your frustrations out ("Chemical World"), there are leeches in the close-cropped lawns and "eating between meals stifles the appetite". Nice program, right? You also have to deal with publicity sponsors ("Colin Zeal"), militaries ("Sunday Sunday"), or even the CIA agency on "Miss America", an overlong dirge that saps what's left of the album momentum on side 2. This is a record that ends with a song called "Resigned", folks! Even though at that point, we're not necessarily caring any longer either, mind you, as harsh as it sounds to say so. All this performative angst might actually be nothing short of rosy under the sun for amateurs of works driven by wry, pessimistic hot takes about our late capitalistic societies. But the crux of the issue here is that overall, *Modern Life Is Rubbish* is almost a complete misfire on those topics, bordering on self-indulgence in the expression of mundane banalities, and becoming itself the sort of bane that it supposedly tries to tackle in the first place. And in a way, the music itself is burdened by the exact same sort of problems that are plaguing Albarn's lyrical conceits throughout the record. There is no sense of direction to the whole thing. Melodically speaking, some songs, especially those with the most "Britpop" inflexions, appear lively on the surface, but there's none of that catchy *spark* in them, none of the sheer tongue-in-cheek inventivity and directness Blur will become known for in *Parklife* for instance. It is probably no coincidence the latter was released only a year after this one, as if the Essex boys had felt the need to course-correct the many shortcomings witnessed here as soon as possible, before it was too late and they lost that peculiar zeitgeist they were aiming at in that tentative effort here. Likewise, what could pass for melancholy or mystery in some of those songs will be better explored later on, first with "To The End" on *Parklife*, and then further in parts of *The Great Escape*. But mostly, it is during the post-Britpop period that this specific dimension will finally bloom. Before those glorious days ahead, what we have is merely a sketch of the promising future, drawn thanks to a somewhat mechanical hand on auto-pilot. The sarcastic Village Green Preservation Society of days yonder has turned brown, and then bare. Blur still tries to summon its wry, ironic poetry, but their heart's not in it, as if squashed by the weight of their own conceptual pretensions. Fortunately, they found a way out of this conundrum, given that there isn't anything in *Modern Life Is Rubbish* that Blur hasn't done *better* in the three albums that followed it, gving Albarn and company the opportunity to finally have their cakes and eat it too. In those later records (*Parklife*, *The Great Escape* and *Blur*) not only has Blur allowed themselves to grind their axe about the pitfalls of modernity, but this time they also managed to have fun on the wayside. The music there does not merely *snarls*, it also *giggles*, *guffaws* and *rolls on the floor with laughter. Sometimes it also jumpstarts, gets genuinely angry, croons and even cries. In the core of those emotions, commodification and the unavoidable existential responses it triggers in us all are still lying there somewhere, honoring the initial program established in the band's second album. But to target those themes for what they are, you still need to contrast them with a little spice, a little flavour, and it's a lesson Blur has probably learned the hard way through this transitional second LP. Overall, we *do* agree with you, Damon: "modern life is rubbish" indeed. But no one said you *can't* have a wholehearted laugh about it, at least. [Number of albums I listened to from the list: 2 Albums left to listen to: 999 Number of albums I've found genuinely relevant: 0 Number of different albums you should listen to before you die: 2 (including this one)]

Amused by some of the reviews in this section--weird takes such as "How do people even pretend to like this? He's the music version of Shakespeare: people only say they like him because it makes them feel smart," bla bla bla... Are some folks so insecure in their lives that they let their inferiority complex ruin all sense of measure and caution in their judgments? Can't they just explain what they personally don't like in Cohen's songs and music, and then move on? No, they can't, and that's interesting. Pretty sure such a bitter stance would have amused the misanthropic-yet-tender "dissectionist" of human passions that Cohen was himself. Oh, the irony. I could also take a page out of those disgruntled listeners' book and venture to say that they are the ones at fault here, *objectively* speaking. One can indeed wonder if they're not a little disturbed by the somewhat radical nature of Cohen's debut album--ascetic and dry for sure, yet also hypnotic on a musical level ; a treasure trove when it comes to the lyrics ; and, most of all, a record that leaves you no choice but to actively give your time and attention to it. This record has very few "spectacular" elements in its contents (a voice and an acoustic guitar, basically), and yet in spite of that, it dares you to stop and listen. Which is always a little disturbing at first, and maybe explains why quite a few reviewers are "disturbed" by it. In the end, some of those naysayers just can't help themselves: if they don't get it, that only means that people who do are *lying*. How amusing, as I said. The irony is that it takes no effort to love this record if you're a Leonard Cohen fan. Because loving this album has nothing do with intellectual shenanigans or the utterance of thesis statements, contrary to what those misguided takes say. Loving this album is a matter of emotion--of how you can respond to the traditional-folk-like purity of the music, here set against the lyrics' modern sophistication (and sometimes wry undertones), along with Cohen's sullen voice being a mock-neutral referee between the two. A perfect balance for many, and one you don't necessarily need to overanalyze, in spite of what I've just written (words are always feeble to describe such masterpieces. aren't they?). After all, some people with a very flimsy grasp of the English language have "gotten" Leonard Cohen for decades (I know that for sure, I don't llive in an English-speaking country), and he's not exclusively popular in 'intellectual" circles either. Which kinda proves all the naysayers wrong all by itself, no matter what it is that they subjectively "feel". No harm in disliking Cohen if it's not your thing--just don't overplay your hand by yucking on other people's yum through the bad faith stance of judging fans' character or their honesty, instead of telling us about your own impressions. It's not graceful at all, to say the least. Not that those naysayers are anything new. A lot of people are unaware of this today, but when *Songs Of Leonard Cohen* was released, its reception by critics was a bit lukewarm, actually. The partly-hidden rationale was mostly that Cohen came from literary and poetry circles: he was an outsider and no "real" musician--and most specifically, he was no real "singer" (odd how snubbery can take many forms!). Yet those critics were at fault too, because they didn't "feel" the most important aspects to take away from *Songs Of Leonard Cohen*: its earnestness ; its blunt honesty ; its raw nature. Because whatever technical abilities Cohen lacked as a vocal performer, he made up for them tenfold through the authenticity, earnestness, and unassuming manners in his performance. Fortunately, general audiences were quick to understand the gem that he was, and you can bet your boots that next generations will, too, just as the ones before. Another layer of irony is that those suspicious critics actually did a huge favour for the Canadian folkster. Rejecting him, they unwittingly underlined his status as a constant underdog--a status he would keep on drawing inspiration from during his long career. The typical Leonard Cohen stance is that he watches the world--and even his own romantic escapades!--from the sidelines with a unassuming, stoic air. And his music gracefully underlines this stance, whether it is wisdom or self-delusion. Such hardcore stoicism is still what makes Leonard Cohen unpalatable for some listeners today, I guess... Those more recent naysayers should at least be aware that things could have turned out worse for them. Had Cohen fully had his way with this debut, there would for instance be far less orchestral arrangements in it, and even less female background vocals. We can all be glad that producer John Simon stood his ground, because the compromise the two men eventually found works beautifully here. Later, for other albums, Cohen would oscillate from a "less is more" philosophy for his subsequent LPs during the seventies, to some sort of maximalist layering in the eighties--one that was maybe partly ironic. But it's here, for this debut, that the perfect matrix has been set for the Canadian songwriter. Those women singing background vocals would for instance never really leave him--it's a marital "arrangement" between lush voices and Cohen's own somber timber that started with this album, and made a lasting impression to the world of music at large. See the sheer amount of cover versions of Cohen's songs if you ever doubt about that. As for the orchestral arrangements, listen carefully to "Master Song" and tell me that its minimalistic production values are not one of the most insanely subtle and yet most gorgeous things that has ever graced human ears--each short inflexion of the small orchestra underlining the lyrical proceedings in the exact way it should--whether through strings or a trumpet--and also enhancing the wonderful chords Cohen found for his tune. So called "deep cuts" like that ("Master Song", "The Stranger Song", "Stories Of The Streets", "Teachers"...) all have those sorts of endearing or enlightening details, and as a consequence, they becone immensely pleasurable if you take the time to sit down and listen. And if you add that string of iconic songs to those less famous tunes--"Suzanne", "So Long, Marianne", "Sisters of Mercy"--of which I don't have much to say given how they have seeped through popular consciousness for decades now--what you get is a perfect, perfect record, without a single dud in it. Running out of time to finish this review, so I'm gonna end it here. If you don't know the wonderful works of Leonard Cohen, don't listen to the naysayers. Have an honest go at it. Maybe you are like "Joseph looking for a manger", and you don't know it yet. Rest assured that once you heart finds shelter in those songs, it is just impossible to forget them. Five stars, what else? Number of albums left to review: 447 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 257 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 167

Just plain horrible. This is my *first* album in this "one album a day" generator thing, and I can't believe I have to start with that cheesy so-called blockbuster filled to the brim with saccharine-tasting manure "Bad"? As in "Hey look how bad-ass I look"? Er... What? That cringefest of boring ballads and mid-temp snoozers? Really??? This is a record without a shred of true soul in it. And even if it's not "soul" you're looking for, there should always be something *human* in music. Or monstrous, on the contrary. Or extraordinary. Or humble. Unfortunately, Bad is none of those things. It tells nothing. It *is* nothing. One can argue that "Dirty Diana" is kind of arresting, or that, at least, it's an interesting track towards the end of the album, since that's the only song that expresses something even remotely heartfelt (as ugly as the feelings actually expressed against Diana Ross are). I guess that after all the dumb schmooze that precedes, the aggro atmosphere in that song is a welcome (bad) breath of fresh air, and that we can all be grateful for that last-minute addition somehow. Thank you Slash for that electric guitar. You might not be very alert yourself, but I guess a tiny drop of whiskey in all that kool-aid does have a semblance of... taste (even though the subtle rock intrusions in Thriller were far more compelling and smartly executed than this still quite clunky shit here). As for the bouncy, hectic and hiccupy "Smooth Criminal", it *is* a killer dancefloor track and an instant classic. It would be foolish arguing about that... But everything else is just lame. Synth basses sound hollow. Horns are an imitation of their synth conterparts. Same with backing vocals. And the writing (both the lyrics *and* the music) is just... irrelevant. If not downright annoying. Case(s) in point,: "Liberian Girl" and "Man On The Mirror". Lyrics, since we must also talk about them, are just ridiculous. And they're made all the more ridiculous by the unmusical and rigid way they are displayed in these songs (just as in almost every other track). Telling the world is in danger, Michael's inapt and disconnected choice of words are no comfort for us. "And-if-you-want-to-o-make-it... a-bet-ter-place", well, just please shut up, Michael, please. And let us die in peace, at least. Admittedly, Thriller's successor could have gone other ways, and you can almost suspect the ghost of more "interesting" work under the surface from time to time--even though "Bad", probably Jackson's worst lead single ever, tells the lamentable story of the album that bears its name from its very first obnoxious seconds. It's true that this single *does* have something catchy. But embarrassing stuff can *also* catch your attention, and never let it go, unfortunately. And if you can't even tolerate a lead single on those sorts of grand commercial pop albums, how on earth will you find any redeeming features after it? How? The true problem of the album however, is that it doesn't even hold "Bad"'s promise of at least having a somewhat awkward laugh. From "Speed Demon" (the *awfully clunky* voice placement and delivery on that one, jeeze!!!) to "I Just Can't Stop Loving You", this is an album almost exclusively made of boring *fillers*, which is sort of an extraordinary feat in itself. Reminds a little of a visit to the dentist's (that clinical white backdrop behind Michael on the cover speaks tons about the surgical atmosphere here!!!). But you're going there with a set of teeth already punctured by a record amount of cavities, so the drilling takes an age AND the next one. Plus, it's painful. *Very* painful. Bad indeed. [Why, oh why, couldn't I review "Thriller" first? Now *that* was a Michael Jackson album that deserved its commercial success, thanks to its sophisticated production and the quality of most of its pop songs. Hope that one comes up soon... Number of albums I listened to: 1 Albums left to listen to: 1000 Number of albums I've found genuinely relevant: 0 Number of different albums you should listen to before you die: 1 ]

Some people are too smart for their own good. You've probably met those sorts of guys before. They're often sitting in the back of the office or the classroom, having that distanced 'I-can't-be-bothered' stare, idly turning their head towards the urban smog outside the window, as if listening to their own inner teacher or boss instead of the real man in charge. If you're a little intrigued by all that cynical, borderline-nihilistic reserve, you sometimes find yourself talking to such a person during coffee breaks, just to see what they're all about. Soon, however, you realize you won't gain much from the conversation anyway, and often leave that coffee break even more nonplussed than you were before. You admit still being fascinated a little, but the unobtrusive words exchanged on the surface keep on screaming "boredom" to your ears. The only real problem being that you don't know for sure if said boredom actually belongs to that person you talked to, or if it's just *yours*. That bloke is *Modern Life Is Rubbish*-era Damon Albarn. Too smart for his own good, and thereby missing a chance to genuinely impress or fully convince you. Admittedly, this doesn't mean there's absolutely anything Damon and his pals from Blur couldn't say with some sort of force or intent when they recorded their second, aptly-named, album. There is, actually. "For Tomorrow" is nothing but a stellar opener, for example (more on that later), nicely paying homage to a oh-so-brit tradition established by the Kinks--whose shadow obviously looms above the first part of Blur's career (minus-*Leisure*) with decidedly good aftereffects overall. Here the vocal melody floats with a bittersweet, mock-happy-go-lucky charm that belies the existential dread underneath the song itself, and it takes a full string section towards the end of that gem to reveal the full tragedy at hand in that tale about postmodern dread. Following that great introduction, "Advert" is a little punky masterpiece that snarls and rattles the point of the album's title home even better than the opener. The schoolboy's lament "Pressure on Julian", a swampy track that foretells left-field, grungy elements from *Blur* and *13*, owes a lot to Graham Coxon's admirable chops on his six strings, the sort of musical sprinkling that can't hurt a second-tier song. As for "Turn It Up", it is a bouncy pop song that gives some needed levity at the eleventh hour (even though it's no "Song 2" or "Girls And Boys" either). This list of assets could go on, of course. Production is flawless (courtesy of long-time collaborators Steve Lovell and Stephen Street). Arrangements are artful. But are those tracks *memorable*? Do you remember *that* guy from your old classroom now, as well-dressed as he was? Probably not. Let's just hope that lad's nihilistic stance hasn't triggered him to do the worst and harm himself at some later points of his life at least. "He's a twentieth century boy / With his hands on the rails / Trying not to be sick again / And holding on for tomorrow". This is how the album starts, namely as an inverted T-Rex anthem where contemplations about suicide have taken the place of the usual calls to hedonism enacted throughout the history of rock'n'roll. On the same song, Damon tells a little more about the alienated individuals having such self-destructive thoughts: "Jim stops and gets out of the car / Goes to a house in Emperor's Gate / Through the door and to his room / And then he puts the TV on / Turns it off and makes some tea". Vacant life at its most obvious here. See also "Blue Jeans": "Blue, blue jeans I wear them every day / There's no particular reason to change / My thoughts are getting banal, I can't help it". Uh, OK, Damon, we *get* it. Consumer society and constant commodification play their parts gnawing us all into tiny little squibs devoid of all life. But the point is: do *you* have to sound so bored yourself to hammer that idea home? Isn't that overkill? C'mon, chin up. Shake a leg. You're turning into an annoying, humourless slob here, and this might go against your first intent, don't you think? Because... well, yes, duh: *Modern Life Is Rubbish* says it straight right from its title. You can't relax ("Star Shaped"), you're barfing on food and drugs to vent your frustrations out ("Chemical World"), there are leeches in the close-cropped lawns and "eating between meals stifles the appetite". Nice program, right? You also have to deal with publicity sponsors ("Colin Zeal"), militaries ("Sunday Sunday"), or even the CIA agency on "Miss America", an overlong dirge that saps what's left of the album momentum on side 2. This is a record that ends with a song called "Resigned", folks! Even though at that point, we're not necessarily caring any longer either, mind you, as harsh as it sounds to say so. All this performative angst might actually be nothing short of rosy under the sun for amateurs of works driven by wry, pessimistic hot takes about our late capitalistic societies. But the crux of the issue here is that overall, *Modern Life Is Rubbish* is almost a complete misfire on those topics, bordering on self-indulgence in the expression of mundane banalities, and becoming itself the sort of bane that it supposedly tries to tackle in the first place. And in a way, the music itself is burdened by the exact same sort of problems that are plaguing Albarn's lyrical conceits throughout the record. There is no sense of direction to the whole thing. Melodically speaking, some songs, especially those with the most "Britpop" inflexions, appear lively on the surface, but there's none of that catchy *spark* in them, none of the sheer tongue-in-cheek inventivity and directness Blur will become known for in *Parklife* for instance. It is probably no coincidence the latter was released only a year after this one, as if the Essex boys had felt the need to course-correct the many shortcomings witnessed here as soon as possible, before it was too late and they lost that peculiar zeitgeist they were aiming at in that tentative effort here. Likewise, what could pass for melancholy or mystery in some of those songs will be better explored later on, first with "To The End" on *Parklife*, and then further in parts of *The Great Escape*. But mostly, it is during the post-Britpop period that this specific dimension will finally bloom. Before those glorious days ahead, what we have is merely a sketch of the promising future, drawn thanks to a somewhat mechanical hand on auto-pilot. The sarcastic Village Green Preservation Society of days yonder has turned brown, and then bare. Blur still tries to summon its wry, ironic poetry, but their heart's not in it, as if squashed by the weight of their own conceptual pretensions. Fortunately, they found a way out of this conundrum, given that there isn't anything in *Modern Life Is Rubbish* that Blur hasn't done *better* in the three albums that followed it, gving Albarn and company the opportunity to finally have their cakes and eat it too. In those later records (*Parklife*, *The Great Escape* and *Blur*) not only has Blur allowed themselves to grind their axe about the pitfalls of modernity, but this time they also managed to have fun on the wayside. The music there does not merely *snarls*, it also *giggles*, *guffaws* and *rolls on the floor with laughter. Sometimes it also jumpstarts, gets genuinely angry, croons and even cries. In the core of those emotions, commodification and the unavoidable existential responses it triggers in us all are still lying there somewhere, honoring the initial program established in the band's second album. But to target those themes for what they are, you still need to contrast them with a little spice, a little flavour, and it's a lesson Blur has probably learned the hard way through this transitional second LP. Overall, we *do* agree with you, Damon: "modern life is rubbish" indeed. But no one said you *can't* have a wholehearted laugh about it, at least. [Number of albums I listened to from the list: 2 Albums left to listen to: 999 Number of albums I've found genuinely relevant: 0 Number of different albums you should listen to before you die: 2 (including this one)]

It's a quick shot, barely ten seconds. "I'm a fool-to-dooo your-dir-ty work, oh yeaaaaah! I don't want-to-dooo your dirty-work, no mo-o-ore." It's nighttime, the radio plays an old Steely Dan hit, and Tony Soprano is singing at the wheel as he drives somewhere. The endearing yet sociopathic mob boss has the same bored, weary eyes as ever, but that scene is probably the closest thing in the whole series to a moment showing him having the time of his life. Tony knows them oldies-but-goldies standards. And he knows it's always deeply pleasurable to sing along to one of those as they pop up between Journey and Cream on the car's radio. The thing is, would Tony Soprano enjoy *Countdown To Ecstasy* in the exact same way he enjoyed the early hits from Steely Dan's debut, *Can't Buy A Thrill*? Probably not. Very much a transitional effort leading the L.A. band towards the more refined soft-rock soundscapes for which they'll later be known for, *Countdown To Ecstasy* is maybe too sophisticated and left-field for Tony's more immediate, impulsive, 'it's-either-hit-or-miss', tastes. Not that Steely Dan would have cared, at least at the time. Having dumped co-singer/songwriter David Palmer (of "Dirty Work" fame) for this second album, now penning cryptic lyrics with a somewhat dystopian flavor (in keeping with the William Burroughs influence on their band's name), and electing for an ethereal cover that would nicely fit in Brian Eno's discography, Donald Fagen and Walter Becker took very much of a gamble here, even if the years that have passed since 1973 might have erased the extent in which those risks were actually *that* bold. First listens today indeed suggest Steely Dan was mostly a band perfectly content to rely on their earlier charts success and technical prowess to write and perform quite innocuous songs ranging from old rock'n'roll, country and rhythm and blues. Admittedly, they did spice things up by adding a fashionable form of prog-rock once in a while. If only said prog-rock didn't sound so irremediably tame compared to the Floyd or Can, this could have well turned up as a lengendary endeavor. Not in here, though, unfortunately. Such harsh preliminary assessment might not be the full picture, however. As subsequent spins soon reveal, this missed opportunity might actually be a blessing in disguise for amateurs of truly *original* sounds. And playing a huge part in this overall originality, you have the jazz inflexions throughout the album, either in the instrumentation (those vibes in "Razor Boy") or the chord changes, bringing a welcome uneasiness and chiaruscoro ambiguity to the whole shebang, very much in line with the dystopian atmoshere already evoked earlier. Opener "Bodhisattva" is a very striking example of such artful sprinklings. Starting as an old R'n'R standard not sounding too fresh or daring these days, with a vocal hook even bordering on parody or muzak, the track's five minutes still fly by, thanks to those unexpected chord changes, along with slyly imaginative bridges and a synth part whose glossy crispness does a great job as it finally circles around you like a flock of pixellated sparrows, forcing you to let your guard down in front of their aerial spectacle. If this is elevator music (make no mistake, it very much *is*), this might be the sort of elevator music you can hear in Stephen King's "dark tower", granted such tower has an elevator in the first place (can't recall, does it?). The irony that you felt under the surface at the start of the song ends up screaming at you toward its end, and quickly, you begin to reconsider how performative the track really is. Is this stuff *cheesy* music? Or is it a *semblance* of cheesy music, with a more sophisticated agenda behind it, even more shrewd and cunning given that Steely Dan have more or less managed to hide their true game until the very last minute? Retrospectively, it seems that Fagen and Becker have always aimed at straddling that fine line, being the sly, witty bastards that they are. Fans sometimes see in Steely Dan things that non-fans are unable to imagine or even comprehend while listening to their music for the first time. Sometimes it just takes one weird, off-kilter note in a guitar or keyboard solo to change the picture, as in the hard-bop but otherwise predictable and standardized "Your Gold Teeth". Other times, you find yourself being entranced by the implacable grooves of the rhythm section, even though the rest of the instrumentation sounds a little too nice and dandy overall. Not to say 'bland'. You know this is imaginative writing here, no matter what. Too bad you can't *feel* it sometimes. As a consequence, one could easily argue that the prog-rock flavors in Steely Dan's music would have gained from being a little more pronounced than they actually were. Or that a true manifestation of genuine psychedelia during those very specific forays would have helped them faring better today, at least. But maybe it is unfair to compare apples and oranges, and expect from Fagen and Becker a program that was far too much in line with their contemporary day and age--it's a program the band visibly had no genuine interest in, for better or for worse. And ironically, Steely Dan's overall sound was nothing but ahead of the curve in 1973, foretelling the set of styles countless "mainstream" soft rock bands would embrace later on, from Eagles to Supertramp (not to mention other 'neat-sounding' acts even further down the line, during the eighties--Dire Straits, anyone?). Yet there is *another* layer of irony to point out, at least from our vantage point in the 21st century, and this one is far more cruel than the first. None of those groundbreaking aspects objectively present during the course of *Countdown To Ecstasy* are easily discernible today, after all that has transpired since. The music is good in this album, there's no arguing about that. But whether it is still *relevant* remains to be seen. A good chunk of the tracks are saving the record from complete stylistic oblivion though, first because Steely Dan's pop-leaning, post-modernist agenda actually does conceptual wonders from time to time. Or, on the contrary, because the band *also* knew how to drop that agenda in key points of the record so as to focus on the music first and foremost. The mock-country highlight "Pearl Of The Quarter" for instance, is a convincing exercise in style, with its evocative albeit over-the-top steel guitar. And "Show Biz Kids" is a somewhat linear, overlong jam that's probably a little too on-the-nose, but it's stiil part of that interesting postmodern group of songs, thanks to its wry lyrics about poverty (and the fact that "Steely Dan T-shirts" won't save you from it). If nothing else, such attempts are showing how smart and topically meaningful the band actually intended to be. And in the more straightforward tracks, you have rhythm 'n blues homages such as "My Old School", whose Motown-sounding backing vocals suffuse much needed life to the proceedings. But most of all, you have two stunners, not hits per se, but still the liveliest tracks of the whole program. As a centerpiece of the record, "The Boston Rag"' evokes a sense of nostalgia only belied by the animated performance that supports it. And closer "King Of The World" is an apt, skittering conclusion for the countdown uttered in the album's title, a promised "ecstasy" here tainted by heartbreaking descriptions of a post-nuclear America where said "kings of the world" are actually none but a scattered group of survivors slowly dying from radiation poisoning. From the barren realm of The Dark Towers, we've plunged right into the waste lands of The Stand, but the overall effect is the same. And yes, the shakespearian references do help set the appropriate, despondent mood, finally revealing that the titular countdown was nothing but a countdown to nuclear annihilation. I bet not a lot of listeners saw that one coming, whether today or at the time--even though the cover was an ominous sign of the disaster about to surge. *Gravity's Rainbow*'s Thomas Pynchon, would surely have appreciated such a nice touch here. Wasn't Pynchon's mammoth published in 1973 anyway? If a rock album cover could have been used for thsi novel, the one of *Countdown To Ecstasy* would have done a fine job paying homage to its grim-but-carnival-like contents, if not the music itself. To be honest, however, all the tragic post-apocalyptic memorabilia displayed by Fagen in that song is NOT the first reason why the latter should be singled out, along with "The Boston Rag". The real reason is simple, as simple as a back-to-basics New Jersey mob boss's playlist. And the reason is that those tracks are catchy and direct enough to allow you to sing along to them, in spite of the other jazzy flourishings out there. This does not lessen the other merits of "King Of The World", and yes indeed, the admirable guitar interlacing in its introduction is still very much in keeping with the other sophisticated arrangements thoughout the album. But here you have that extra cherry on the cake, and you can eat it too: a glorious, roaring, heartfelt, take-no-quarters chorus. Sometimes Tony Sopranos was right, at least when it came to music. It's not always necessary to split hairs if you want to have a good time. Life's too short for this, with or without a nuclear apocalypse looming on the horizon. [[Number of albums I listened to from the list: 3 Albums left to listen to: 998 Number of albums I've found genuinely relevant: 0 Number of different albums you should *probably* listen to before you die: 1 (so counting this one out, maybe) Number of different albums you should *definitely* listen to before you die: 2]

Guns blazing out, country and western songs seem to have taken a large part of the American musical consciousness in 1959. This was the year a sleazy and cynical Italian-American crooner such as Dean Martin reinvented himself as a cowboy hero in Howard Hawks' *Rio Bravo*, even managing to have the producers press 'pause' on the proceedings onscreen to have enough time for him and Ricky Nelson to wistfully duet on the unforgettable "My Rifle, My Pony And Me" in front of an elated John Wayne. Only a few years before this endearing musical interlude on film, Marty Robbins' well-rounded persona and clear, juvenile voice had already surged in the US country scene thanks to hits such as "A White Sport Coat" and "The Story Of My Life". But it was also in 1959 that Robbin's real foray into western balladry actually started for good. And for those willing to invest their hard-earned bucks into a collection of records dedicated to such a quaint-yet-charming subgenre, *Gunfighter Ballads And Trail Songs* is deemed as nothing shorter than a landmark album. (For more information on this crooning, conservative and cosplay take on "country music" taken as a whole, see also: Jim Reeves. Or at least, that's what online specialists are trying to whisper into my ears right now--even though I'm not a horse). Wikipedia even informs us that years after *Gunfighter Ballads*'s release, members of the Western Writers of America chose six of its songs as being among the Top 100 Western Songs of all time. Three of them were written by Robbins: first his signature song "El Paso", along with "Big Iron", and "The Master's Call". And three were written and previously recorded by others: "Cool Water", "Billy The Kid", and "The Strawberry Roan". Without a doubt, the six songs listed here were the highlights of the album, whether then or now. It's worth noting, however, that in that bunch, "Big Iron" is probably the least compelling track, and its relative fame in 2022 seems to have more to do with the online craze of our day and age than in any relevant influence during the late fifties. In 2010, with the release of Obsidian Entertainment's Fallout New Vegas, *Gunfighter Ballads...* was indeed rediscovered by people who played the game and listened to the in-game radio. The radio feature included "Big Iron," which caused players to seek out the entire album, discovering the other songs online. Many Internet memes were created as a result, with the most common of them being parodies and edits of the album cover, along with edits or mashups of "Big Iron". And this hot trail was then picked up by the Breaking Bad producers, choosing the song for an appearance in the finale of their postmodern spaghetti western. Seems like Hollywood is never really far when something is labelled as 'Western'. It's those dreams shot for wide cinemascope screens, never really burdened by any sense of authenticity. How could those dreams *not* be part of the overall package here? Coincidentally or not, such a sudden and inexplicable online craze as the one that befell "Big Iron" also nicely ties in with the Tik Tok success of Lil Nas X's "Old Town Road" ten years later or so. And even beyond the common country and western influence displayed in those two admittedly very different tunes, there's *another* interesting parallel to point out here. In both cases, what we have is a competent song fooling around with clichés inherent to the genre involved, which often has its charm if it's done in the appropriate, tongue-in-cheek manner, as is the case for both tracks. But can such immediate, albeit somewhat hollow success be equated to art having a truly *meaningful* discourse about our current culture? The jury's out on this one. My best guess here is that all those playful Hollywood shenanigans are just ephemeral excitement, nothing that would change any listener's life in the long run. Not to say that Marty Robbins or Lil Nas X didn't *deserve* to have their fair share of success. But this sort of overwhelming popularity shouldn't *necessarily* have any bearing on any retrospective critical assessment, mind you. And I'll point my pistol to anyone who says I should change my mind and speak more cautiously about all this. Understood, gringo?                                                                  All oh-so-serious grumblings about the commodification of music aside (niche or otherwise), the six Robbins songs quoted earlier in this piece still have very clear assets, like trump cards in a poker game explaining why this album shouldn't be totally forgotten either. "The Master's Call", in particular, could remind modern listeners of Nick Cave's killer-rampage rants about outlaws and other low-life thugs swarming in his narrative pandemonium of beautiful losers and desperate psychos (it seems like Cave's aptly named *Murder Ballads* might even have drawn a little influence from Robbins, at least on the conceptual level). And among the three covers quoted up above, the cautionary tale "Billy The Kid" also stands out for sure. Flavored with peppers and hot chili sauce all around its Tex-Mex arrangements (just like in the sweeter, grander and yet more by-the-books "El Paso"), there's even a gripping quality to the rendition of that traditional tune in here, with its smart, bittersweet alternance of major and minor key chords neatly thought out, recorded and performed. The images evoked by such a technicolor-shot motion picture are thus nothing short of stunning. And you can't complain about the script either, even though you know how the story ends (spoiler alert: badly). As for most of the other unquoted songs, there's nothing in them particularly worth raving about on first listens. If you happen to be obsessed with them tales of the Old Wild West--or if you're right in the middle of a Red Dead Redemption marathon--you will probably find the time and energy to immerse yourself into that hackneyed Grand Canyon vista so as to sort the wheat from the chaff before stacking the good stuff up in your carriage and move on. Other pioneers, however, might elect to go at once and find a creek with fresher water elsewhere to plant their tipees or tents. The American west is large enough for all sorts of pioneers anyway.                                                                             Interestingly, *Gunfighter Ballads...* is now part of Sony's "American Milestones" reissue series for classic country and western albums, including, among others, *At Folsom Prison* by Johnny Cash and *Red Headed Stranger* by Willie Nelson. "American milestones", those figures are indeed, mostly because Cash and Nelson knew a thing or two about how they could raise a vast array of emotions in their listeners' souls (laughter, anger, cynicism, despair, romanticism and so on...). And doing this, the two also had a legitimate influence on other genres far outside of their initial reach. Cash's mordant lyrics, deep rumbling vocals and dry instrumentation, in particular, still stands the test of time today. Next to these giants, Marty Robbins kinda looks like a midget holding a water pistol instead of the glittering, proverbial colt. And the Old Wild West is certainly not kind for simpering tenderfoots with a suave voice, as every free-lance undertaker (and music critic) this side of Colorado knows... [[Number of albums I listened to from the list: 4 Albums left to listen to: 997 Number of albums I've found genuinely relevant: 0 Number of different albums you should *probably* listen to before you die: 1 Number of different albums you should *definitely* listen to before you die: 3 (counting this one out)]

Since it's probably one of the most striking album debuts in the history of rap, it's interesting to assess how *The Slim Shady LP* is holding out more than two decades after that game changer broke all the hip hop rules you thought you knew at the time. Eminem's hectic, cartoonish flow, hilarious-slash-offensive lyrics, technical chops as a rapper, and controversial persona are very much a part of popular music history today, so much that it's actually a little difficult now to realize in which *ways* this first album indeed broke all the rules. The rap game was a seemingly simpler affair then, its opposition between east coast and west coast giving everyone enough basic landmarks to find their way into it (to sketch the whole thing in oversimplistic terms, it was G-funk L.A. vs. rougher developments in NYC--we're leave Atlanta aside for this piece, as well as other strands more or less outside the whole gangster influence, from Wu-Tang street weirdo poetics to the cooler, smoother boom bap heirs of that earlier jazzy "Native Tongues" scene...). This clear-cut world, however, was before Eminem, or rather, should we correct, before his "Slim Shady" alter-ego snarly told us all *what his name* was for the first time. Less a gangster than a dangerous, irremediably irresponsible, white thrash psycho raised in one of them middle-west trailer parks, Slim Shady was the very definition of a loose cannon. And as a rapper's version of Batman's Joker, he was a character actually far more disturbing and downright outrageous than any of those MCs still stuck into circular ego-tripping exercises, too busy launching diss tracks from one coast to the next to really break new ground.                                                       Enter Marshall Mathers, who, even though he picked a "side", so to speak, by collaborating with Dr. Dre of N.W.A and The Chronic fame, was still smart and savvy enough to let his crude lyrics, nasal voice, unsavory statements and faster-than-light rapping abilities speak for himself without much of an afterthought as to where his place should be in the "game". Of course, Captain Obvious must have a say here: Eminem is indeed not only a brilliant rapper, but also, he is a white rapper, with all the necessary consequences that such an obvious statement entails. Others have analyzed this elsewhere. Let's just say that one can only imagine how Dre must have felt producing that white-thrash genius, more of an ally to hip hop's cultural cause than Elvis ever was to the African-American songwriters and artists of his time (speaking of *white* rappers, we're not forgetting the fantastic Beastie Boys, but they couldn't count here, having chosen the arty sidelines of that world as soon as 1989, when *Paul's Boutique* came out). With Eminem's irruption, however, one can easily argue that a very important gate for strands of modern black music that were hitherto despised by the mainstream music industry had been blown open at last. Hip hop at large could finally reap what it had sowed for two decades. And more importantly, Dre, as an important and historical actor of the U.S. rap scene, was also at the helm of this phenomenon, not only counting his newly-earned heaps of dollars, but also counting the ways in which said phenomenon could benefit everyone in the "game" in the long run. But what about the album itself, then? How fresh does it sound now? Just as its author, we won't mince words: the first half is brilliant, almost pitch-perfect. But the second half is not so good as a whole, and this even in comparison to other hip hop masterpieces which often tend to go on a little too long, avoiding the necessary edits that would make them shine even brighter (just like your humble servant here). On the side of the good stuff, there's the funky, Rhodes-driven opener and first single "My Name Is", a grand preliminary statement as to what Eminem's crazy antics are all about. But it's really the second song, "Guilty Conscience", that brilliantly sets up to the task of showing what we're up against here, setting the bar so high on a lyrical standpoint that the album almost doesn't recover from it after. Featuring Dr. Dre playing the part of a better angel urging lost souls to err on the side of caution and dignity (this here is already a riot to write about!), the track is not only a showcase of Eminem's narrative abilities, but it's also a genius opportunity for him to display his talents as an actor delivering hilarious punchlines, each one more shocking and outrageous than the one before. You've probably guessed it already, Eminem plays the part of the miniature devil facing Dre from the opposite shoulders of said lost souls, and he's so competent in this role that the so-called angel finally gives up all pretense to decency and joins the side of pure evil at the end of the song (we won't spoil the way Eminem convinces Dre to join his ranks here... Let's just say that anyone collaborating with Mathers needs to share his self-deprecating sense of humour). What works so well in the track is that it starts as a concept where the two rappers are initially only playing a role, but because of Slim Shady's sheer malevolence, such concept soon goes off the rail, and even Dre-as-a-real-person doesn't come out of it unscathed. Nothing is off-limit, not even disrespecting the album's own executive producer. Carnival at its best here. Next is "Brain Damage", an exploration of childhood trauma that also goes off the rail to become a mix between Garbage Pail Kids and a gore flick. It is one of the best tracks musically speaking, with its unstoppable bouncy beat and intricate west-coast-style samplings. But the real centerpiece of the album only comes a few tracks later, and here it's not so much its music than its overall concept, along with Eminem's chilling delivery, that will send shivers down your spine. "'97 Bonnie and Clyde" is horrorcore at its most disturbing and off-putting, telling the dreadful yarn of a man killing his ex-wife and getting rid of her body with their daughter in tow, the unrepenting murderer even lying to the small toddler throuhout the song, denying how much of a monster he is (just look at the cover of the album to have an inkling of what the song is about). In the next record, "Stan" will explore such a sociopathic narrative thread even a little further, but for those who are already familiar to that later track, suffice it to say that this is how everything started when it came to Eminem as a horror master... An aside here, about 'unreliable narrators'. Some commentators at the time were quick to put blame on Eminem's possible deleterious influence on kids and their sense of morality (often in conjunction with their condemnation of the mock-satanist shock-fest of Marilyn Manson). But it is somewhat misleading and even downright stupid to think the kids Eminem was adressing himself to were not aware all of this was just entertainment, a play, an act, spooky tales aimed at placing them into a rollercoaster of conficting and intense emotions. In a way, Mathers later beat those commentators at their own game when he created the 'Stan' character during the course of his next album. Here was an Eminem fan dumb enough to take everything at face value, and so become an unhinged danger for himself and others. But... well... newsflash: 'Stan' doesn't really exist. Just as 'Dada' in " '97 Bonnie And Clyde". Or even "Slim Shady" himself. It's that old "Fight Club" twist all over again, is it not? Teens' minds are always blown away by it, but meanwhile, there's never been a killer-rampage enacted in the name of Eminem or Tyler Durden. It's just pure, trangressive fun. Phew... I guess PMRC members can start sleeping a little better at night now. It will be easier for us to slit their throats in their sleep, at least. See what I just did up there? Mathers does that all the time. There's never a sure way to know when he's playing an act and when he's dead serious during the course of the album. Well... there's never a sure way to know *if you're not paying enough attention*. Case in point: "Role Model", where Eminem makes it clear he is not one of them, nor should be considered as such. For instance, this is the song where he lists the drugs he is truly addicted to as opposed to the ones he has no interest in, contradicting other statements elsewhere on the album (including that ironic "Er... Don't do drugs..." in the short skit opening the LP). Such intricate, truly postmodern way to mix truths and falsehoods does not merely offer cheap thrills in most songs, it is also a testament to Mathers' multilayered, rich, and even thought-inducing writing. Eminem is smart enough to consider his listeners should still exercise their free will and sense of agency in our sick sad world, contrary to the conservative boomers who found the mirror he was holding up to us all too dreary and unbearable for their delicate, hypocritical tastes. Unfortunately, past "Role Model", that multilayered, thought-inducing writing starts to wear thin a little, as if Mathers was at pains to find any effective way to fuel the demonic machinery he so brilliantly ignited in the first part of the record. At some point, just as you go through this piling-up of shock treatments, you start to feel a little numb, a little anaesthetized, and it doesn't help when you already know that Eminem's technical chops as a rapper with a machine-gun flow will get *even better* than this in the next LPs. Some of the imagery even sounds a little immature at some point, a pitfall that was probably unavoidable given the nature of Mathers' initial intents here. And the music itself sometimes loses its momentum. Indeed, it must be pointed out that a huge chunk of the tracks' instrumentation in the LP, mostly those composed by the Bass Brothers, does not fare that well today, and one has a sneaking suspicion that even in 1999, such instrumentation could pass off as clunky or slightly outdated, especially when compared to the songs Dr Dre produced himself. The drums, in particular, often sound flat and overmixed, a flaw that will fortunately not occur again in the subsequent albums, where Dre will be more directly involved. For the first of those, *The Marshall Mathers L.P.*, it seems that Eminem effectively course-corrected most of those shortcomings at least. This second album might also be slightly overlong, but there, the killer tracks are sprinkled throughout the record so that the latter never loses its steam. And it is an asset that *The Slim Shady LP* can't boast about. Rather than listing the underwhelming tracks in the album, maybe it's better to list some of the best one-liners that are still peppered throughout it, in spite of all that lost steam. At least we'll end up on a high note. "But I don't get pissed, y'all don't even see through the mist / How the fuck can I be white, I don't even exist" ("Role Model"). "I'm about as normal as Norman Bates with deformative traits / A premature birth that was four minutes late" ("Role Model" again). Or *this*, about a girl overdosing on mushrooms at a party, with the unmarried girl deliriously moaning : "I don't even have any kids and I can't cook," and Slim replying: "I'm over here, Sue, you're talking to the plant, look!" ("My Fault"). And we should probably mention that two of the best punchlines come at the very end, in "Still Don't Give A Fuck": "I get imaginative with a mouth full of adjectives / A brain full of adverbs, and a box full of laxatives". Either this or the following boast: "Now how in the hell am I supposed to get out of debt? / I can't rap anymore, I just murdered the alphabet". All bragging aside, Eminem did not murder the whole alphabet yet at the time of his first major debut. But he sure came close to it in the couple of records that followed. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 996 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 0 Albums from the list I might include in mine later on: 2 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 3 ]

Their heads barely out of the ashes of At The Drive-In, Omar Rodriguez López and Cedric Bixler-Zavala did not waste any time to rebound by forming The Mars Volta, sprinkling seventies psychedelia, latin rhythm inflexions and Zappaesque circumvolutions in their already charged post-hardcore formula. *Deloused In the Comatorium* is the result of this quick mutation, and akin to a phoenix rising over its former shell's self-implosion, the new band does a very fine job setting up high expectations for what was to come. Standout tracks "Inertiatic Esp", "The Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of) and "This Apparatus Must Be Unearthed" are especially convincing, flaunting a technical prowess that is in service of songs sporting roaring choruses like so many badges of honor. None of the digressions in those tracks are unnecessary, and the overall production is neat and on-point, displaying very clear and panoramic vistas of the multi-layered mess so as to help the listener make sense of it. Bixler-Zavala's lyrics are cryptic as ever, digging the exact same surreal trench as the one he had dug as the At The Drive-In frontman, and his crystal-clear, energetic vocals are reaching new heights, even though he never forgets to also bring emotion and subtle nuance when needed. It's a little unfortunate, however, that the Mars Volta could not apply the same self-editing principles and direly needed restraint for a bunch of tracks across the middle of the record. See for instance "Eriatarka" and "Cicatriz Esp", where mastermind Rodriguez López desperately--and often vainly--tries to reach a full-on psychedelic scope the band would only really attain for their second LP, the criminally underestimated *Frances The Mute* (which is probably the best homage to seventies prog-rock madness ever penned this side of the 21st century, and a piece of work far more sweeping and ambitious than their first effort). In comparison to its successor, some of the tracks in *Deloused In The Comatorium* are either too short or too long, or maybe even *both*, oddly enough--too short for the ambient meandering interludes inside them to really stick and go somewhere--and too long for the *exact same reason*, mainly that those aimless interludes should have probably been better left off on the cutting room floor so as to give a little muscle to the overall songs If *Frances The Mute* avoided those pitfalls by giving its most experimental moments much-needed conceptual and atmospheric points, such miracles only too rarely happened in the rest of the band's career. After their second album, The Mars Volta even quickly got lost into their own free-jazz proclivities (read "ass"), spawning a handful of albums that did not add anything genuinely meaningful to the initial formula. And when that string of records ended, Rodriguez López and Bixler-Zaval even resorted to a reformation of At The Drive-In which turned out to be a half-baked stylistic avowal of defeat instead of the glorious reunion everyone had hoped for. Heroes fall hard sometimes. In *Deloused In The Comatorium*, the phoenix was still on the rise at least. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 995 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 0 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 3 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 3 ]

The eighties were a very, very strange period for music. In only a very few years whole paradigms were turned upside down, and this under a twofold influence: technology and business. Overreliance on the first and obsession about the second created overall aesthetics and atmospheres so representative of that period that, apart from the sixties, no other decade can boast being so instantly recognizable on the merits of its *sounds* alone. And this for better or for worse. During those early eighties, just as Eurythmics was conquering charts worldwide, it's for instance worth noting that even someone like Neil Young was busy using synths and vocoders (see the much maligned and frankly misunderstood *Trans*), and this mere anecdotal footnote here speaks volumes. The times they had-a *really* changed in those years. But probably not in the ways good ol' Bob had expected.  Contrary to Neil Young, Eurythmics were typically "eighties" from the get-go, and that's a *huge* difference between the two, of course (one among many). By the time of their second album *Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)*, the duo had indeed fully embraced the schlock, glossy world of fatty synth bass lines and other electronic-driven pulses and would never fully depart from it, even during the nineties. But *there* was also a peculiar twist, a paradox of sorts, because Eurythmics had actually only embraced the clichés of their day and age so as to better reinvent songwriting tropes from far earlier periods, namely the ones of the good old rhythm 'n blues of days yonder. At least, that was the plan. To counterbalance the increasing power of the machines, the solution Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart found out was to inject *soul* into the 'popular mechanics" of their time, even though such "soul" could turn up being totally unrecognizable in those brand new, icy whereabouts. When replicants in *Blade Runner* claim they have their own 'souls', and that they are therefore as 'human' as you and me, there's more than a few eyebrows raised in response. It's the sort of eyebrows that Lennox and Stewart's band are still raising today, especially now that the eighties are far off into the rearview mirror.  They were certainly not the only ones to step on that tightrope line in those days. In the U.K. dance scene, Soft Cell's legendary cover of "Tainted Love" had used the same mash-up of electronics and African-American, tried-and-true, melodic lines. But Eurythmics's version of that formula was a whole other level of complexity. Annie Lennox's diaphanous timbre and androgynous presence were not just masks or disguises in plain sight, only *pretending* to hide the obvious rhythm'n' blues influences of her voice inflexions. They were also an ambiguous statement about cultural appropriation and simulacrum. Music once considered "warm" or even "hot" was turning into its own *cold* self-conscious copy. It was *whitened*, in all senses of the word. And it seems audiences just took a lot of pleasure out of this without asking too many questions. In a way, Lennox's almost superhuman abilities on a technical point of view, like when she adlibs soulful pleas and performs other risky voice tremolos, only reinforces that initial ambiguity between (wo)man and machine. What do we have here? A genuine soul singer with flesh and bone? Or a robot only pretending to be one? Do androids dream of cybernetic Aretha Franklins? Not even Philip K. Dick or William Gibson had answered those queries before... Let's just address the electric elephant in the room, once and for all. As overplayed as it is, "Sweet Dreams"--that bouncy title track everyone has hummed under the shower at least once--still sounds superb today. But the apparent simplicity of that hit belies the fact that the song is first and foremost the epitome of the paradoxes spotted up there. And that at its core, it's part of that "Tainted Love" tradition of expressing doubt or heartbreak in such a lively manner (while not plagiarizing the full on minor-key vocal line of the old Gloria Jones hit, there's definitely a similarity in its "Sweet Dreams" equivalent). So if f the track works so well, it's because of those rhythm 'n blues influences first, as is the case in most of the less famous cuts in the album. The great synths sounds, drum-machines, and overall "programming" are just cream on the cake. Excellent cream, but cream nonetheless. The only problem with this track and its place on the album is that it is like a large tree hiding a whole forest. Indeed, if Eurythmics's second effort still holds up relatively well decades after it was released, it's for one reason only: the songwriting. Strip *The Walk* of all its trimmings, for example, electronic or otherwise--yes, even the horn section and that mellifluous trumpet solo at the end--and what you have here is basically a good PJ Harvey song circa *Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea*. Just imagine a different "rock" instrumentation on its verses, and the ressemblance is simply striking. Likewise (but conversely in a chronological point of view), final track "This City Never Sleeps" is nothing but a barely-veiled homage to Marvin Gaye's "Inner City Blues", with its hypnotic bassline supporting lyrical snapshots of urban melancholy and destitution. What links those two very different reference points (PJ Harvey and Marvin Gaye) is inspiration from the blues and nothing else. And it's an inspiration that a synth-driven act like Depeche Mode will use only quite a few years later compared to Eurythmics. So they knew what they were doing here. Other strands of black music run throughout the course of the album. The use of echoes and reverb in "I've Got An Angel" is drawing its inspiration from dub, and it's a move that feels like a weird, off-kilter way to explore the same paths Massive Attack would step on fifteen years later, musing about other sorts of 'angels'. And in "Somebody Told Me", Lennox even... raps (!), and the outcome of this experimentation is definitely not as ridiculoius as it may sound on paper. Add other decent tracks like that, plus a fantastic Kraftwerk-like, minimalistic opener ("Love Is A Stranger"), and the whole proposition holds the proverbial water like no other Eurythmics record. Speaking of water, don't miss that mesmerizing dark reverie about a drowned girl veering towards This Mortal Coil's goth territory. The girl is named "Jennifer", but she could as well have been named 'Ophelia'. There are only two duds in the album: first another Kraftwerk-inspired track, a cyberpunk cover of Sam And Dave's "Wrap It Up", which might read like an interesting or even daring idea on paper, except that it's not when you're hearing the final clunky results. And there's also "This Is The House", which sounds like a reject from The Talking Heads post-*Remain In Light*. it actually says a lot about the 'Heads that the line between success and failure when it comes to such "white funk" forays is so... thin. But the study of this thin line will surely come in its own time... The point is that if a band like the Talking Heads is enjoying such a raving critical status today, I don't see why another act like Eurythmics couldn't be redeemed as well, at least partly. So the *ideas* behind those failed experiments in the album might have been worth it and you can't blame the band for trying a little too hard. Unfortunately, they are the sorts of ideas that will increasingly come to Lennox and Stewart's minds after *Sweet Dreams...", and there again, the execution will produce many mixed results, actually far more than on this second LP. There will always be a couple of great, catchy tracks and singles to redeem those failures, but nothing that will *wholly* save any of the subsequent records. Replicants always have an expiration date, and for some non-fans, 1983 was maybe the date Eurythmics should have been "retired" by a disgruntled Rick Deckard policing good music out there. Given that it's the exact same year our endearing Roy and Pris of eighties pop broke out with *Sweet Dreams...* (and also *Touch*, released the same year), it seems that, creatively speaking at least, 'replicants' appear to have an even shorter life in reality than the ones they are enjoying in Sci-Fi flicks. You just can't always 'replicate' souls, Annie and Dave, you need to have ones of your own, too. Skills, influence or production values won't necessarily give you one. There are things that all the money in the world can't buy, even during the eighties.

FIVE STARS An all-time classic As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review here, because others have already written wonderful stuff about this record and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. This album is just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 994 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 1 (starting with this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 4 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 3 ]

Being a native French speaker, I've always been aware of the cultural importance of Jacques Brel, even though as a young and hip amateur of mostly *anglo-saxon* music, I was merely relegating him to a singer for older generations, someone who did not have anything relevant to teach the careless youngster that I was. But now that I've gotten older myself, comfortably lying on the couch of my cozy living-room as I'm writing this feature on my phone, I might obviously know a little better. The question is: why did I *really* change my mind about Jacques Brel? Is it because of my current, somewhat comfortable surroundings that I can fully appreciate *chansons* now? Have I turned into an unapolegetic *bourgeois* in the space of only two decades? Or is all of that irrelevant? If it's because I've turned into a *bourgeois*, the irony is priceless here. Indeed, Brel's wit, sharp eye and acerbic tongue were almost never better channeled than when he used those assets to paint vitriolic portraits of the elder generations of his own time--all those sad, well-off, self-righteous sods never able to admit they cornered themselves into lives ultimately devoid of any meaning. Truth be told, in Brel's songs are *also* other sorts of lessons, though, and ones I could have started learning as a young man. When the Belgian singer depicts younger characters, for instance, his powers of observation are still very much on point, both conveying the humanity and pathetic shortcomings of those characters through the same jeering-yet-elegant wink to his audience. Flawed dunces and endearing dollards can be found in all age groups. And Brel never missed a chance to remind us of this. Of course, there's a third, more elegiac streak running throughout his catalogue of tunes, which gave out all those signature songs most French speakers still remember today. And for those, Brel was as 'emo' as any tortured young rock act can get. Just listen to those tracks. Even if you're not speaking French, you might still sense the emotion seeping through the perfomance itself, if not through the words used (the man was also a fine actor who had learned this secondary trade exclusively through his experience as a performer giving it all onstage). If anything, English-speaking artists with a keen eye for details and an overall flair for the dramatic--artists such as Scott Walker, Nina Simone, David Bowie, Judy Collins or Nick Cave--certainly sensed this emotion we've just mentioned here. Hence their wonderful covers of Brel's *repertoire*. Recorded live in 1964 at the legendary Parisian venue *L'Olympia*, this record, as short as its original version was, does a very fine job displaying the three different streaks of songcraft we've spotted up there. Subsequent CD versions later included parts of the show left out from the original 30-minute album, with Brel staples such as "Les bonbons", "Mathilde", " Les bigotes", "Les bourgeois", "Jef" and "Au suivant". But even without those popular extraneous cuts, this live album is essentially Jacques Brel at his best. "Les vieux" (*Old Folks*), about old-timers waiting for death, is for example one of his cruellest songs, because as heartwrenching and detailed as the lyrics are, they can also elicit many mocking snarls in response. Dark comedy and tragedy go hand in hand throughout the tune, whose chorus revolves about a clock relentlessly counting the seconds left before the final demise, nicely supported by a piano motif insisting on each of those fateful seconds. Musicality is rarely forgotten in Brel's *oeuvre*, as shown in most of those cuts here, even though such oeuvre is first and foremost narrative-driven in nature. Death is also central in two other songs, "Le dernier repas" and "Tango funèbre". The first track pictures the narrator's "last meal" with his entourage, the second depicts his burial, and both are unforgettable lessons in songwriting, ones that Nick Cave, as a connoisseur of Brel's body of work, probably remembered when he penned the similarly-themed "Lay Me Low" for *Let Love In*.  Freeloaders and sycophants shedding crocodile tears unavoidably find their way into the afflicted crowd in those songs, closely watched by Brel's ghost. This makes the titular 'tango' in the second track, already a wonderful piece of music, even more gripping, chilling and wry. Old parasites in funerals aside, younger people are also mocked during the gig, as in "Les Timides" (*Shy people*), where inapt wannabe lovers make fools of themselves under Brel's unforgiving eye ("they just blush and *crawfish*", the singer tells us--yes, "crawfish" is used as a verb here, which is just as grammatically wrong or off-kilter in French as it is in English). And both age groups seem to be derided in "Les jardins du casino" ("In The Casino's Gardens"), a precise study of bourgeois pettiness that goes from micro to macro in its ironic breadth. As great as those tracks are, however, this live album wouldn't be the historical document it is today without two songs counting among the most famous Brel ever penned whenever he decided to dive headlong into full epic scope. The first of those songs, "Amsterdam", was actually never recorded in a studio, so what we have here is the definitive version, and it does not take a seer to understand why this sweeping tale of sailors and whores rubbing shoulders (and more) in the midst of a drunken, lascivious haze didn't need a studio recording after this live capture at the Olympia venue. Brel's voice is incredible here, each and every one of its inflexions adding weight and meaning to the words sung or yelled. And the orchestra supporting that voice is the *coup de grâce*, its head-spinning instrumentation placing you right in the middle of this grotesque waltz of beautiful losers. You can almost see the lights and lanterns of the harbour behind the dancers. In three minutes, you've been to the Netherlands and back, and it's a trip you will never forget. As for the second legendary track, "Le plat pays" (*The Flat Country*), a very personal ode to Belgium--slow, grim and yet quite tender--there *is* a studio version of it, contrary to "Amsterdam". But this live rendition, backed up by strings circling above the desolate land like so many flocks of crows, equals it, if it doesn't actually surpass any other version available today. *Olympia 64* is therefore one of the best entry points into Brel's whole body of work, and as such, deserves to be remembered as the timeless classic that it is. One could argue that studio albums *Ces gens-là*, *N*4 (La valse à mille temps)* or the later rerecording of old songs *Ne me quitte pas* could be equally relevant if you wish to get acquainted with the inspired and inspiring Belgian singer. Either those, or any of the comprehensive compilations sold out there. But if first, you want to sense the powerhouse that Brel was as a live performer, *this* is the record to start with. It is by no means a rock 'n roll album. Actually, it's almost the opposite in every way. But for anyone interested in the French language, or international novelty curios, the emotions such a record provides are not so far off the mark compared to more "modern" strands of music. Ask David Bowie, Nick Cave or Nina Simone if you're still having doubts about the whole thing. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 993 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 2 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 4 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 3 ]

FIVE STARS A personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 991 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 3 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 4 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 3]

Oh well. *1999*. Released in 1982. If through this title, Prince wanted to predict music as it would sound seventeen years later, that's not exactly how everything turned out, is it? That minor grudge aside, it's hard to miss the carpe diem *concept* behind the album. *1999* is a record that wants you to have sex, because, hey, that's one of the best thing our short lives have to offer, is it not? It is also speaking from a cold war vantage point, hence the criticism of "politicians" found in some lyrics here and there, even if such quick statements might just be useful pretexts for more fucking (up, around, and well, just good old straight-up fucking itself). If the end of the world is coming soon, whether at the turn of the millenium or earlier, we'd better enjoy what's left of our lives and party *hard*, after all. This here is the bulk of Prince's *D.M.S.R* program (a track from the album that reads *Dance, Music, Sex, Romance*), an overall theme also nicely introduced in opener and legendary single "1999", where the Minneapolis sex-crazed, short-statured genius reminds us that anyone is "carrying a bomb' these days, nuclear or not, and that as a result, anyone can die in the next hour or the next minute. When U say it this way, Mr. Nelson, it indeed sounds like a good idea to take your sweet time and wallow in all those hedonistic long tracks celebrating love, lust, sex, romance and everything in between. The thing is, *long* does not necessarily equate *good*. At least when it comes to music, if you take my meaning. Wink, wink. And *this* here is exactly where *1999* falls short, ironically. Because as groundbreaking as the record was, both for Prince and for pop music at large (with all those dry synth-driven hits, Afrika-Bambatta-inspired dirges, lustful torch songs, rock digressions and moist-yet-minimalistic hard-funk forays), yes, in spite (or because) of all of *that*, there's a also a streak of self-indulgence running through *1999* which might possibly make it a difficult listen in 2022, no matter what critics or hardcore fans are raving about when they're mentionning the album today. "Let's Pretend We're Married" is a nice track, with a soundtrack it's easy to picture St Vincent writing a few decades later. But did it need to last for 7 minutes or so, no matter what crazy antics Prince is doing during the performance? Besides, cuts like "Automatic", "DMSR", "Lady Cab Driver", or "All the Critics Love U In New York" are not *that* good musically speaking in the first place. And most of them still run even far longer than 7 minutes. Or if they don't, they sound *as if they do*. Never a good sign when you're watching the clock while "doing it". The only exceptions to that overall issue are the first two tracks, and the fact that they are opening the album is not so much a blessing in disguise as it is a curse for the record's overall balance. "1999" is a bouncy masterpiece, and if you can't shake your rump to it, it means you're probably dead already. And "Little Red Corvette", Prince's first crossover hit to rock and mainstream charts in a long list of many, has *that* stellar chorus going for it. But after that early point, in terms of obvious hits and nudges to a casual listener's ears, zilch, zero, nada. For certain genres, this is not necessarily a problem. But when you claim to be writing and playing grand pop statements, it kind of becomes one. The jump from "Little Red Corvette" to "Delirious" is just jarring, for example. What is that ridiculous happy-go-lucky pseudo-mock-rockabilly synth riff? And, er... wait... What? Was that *thing* a single, too? Really??? There are indeed a few "endearing" curios in *1999*, which probably triggered Prince's fans to unabashadly label it as a masterpiece because they thought those intriguing yet somewhat half-baked compositions had something "different" in them compared to other more famous cuts. Chiefly among those weird songs is the interestingly ambient and ambiguous "Something In The Water (Does Not Compute)", sounding as if Kraftwerk mated with Otis Redding under Devo's voyeuristic leer, not so bad if you like such kinky set-ups in your sex life. To which you might also add "Free", a Motown-like ballad with a nice piano part but not much else in terms of memorable stuff. A change of pace, a missionary-position sort of statement, if you will. Of course, those flaws are sometimes amplified by appalling lyrics here and there. Prince, being the piece of work that he was, often considers his romantic conquests (real or fantasized) as so many inerchangeable objects for his own narcissitic lust. No, women are not "beautifully complex", they're just different one from the other, just as men are. And if they don't always cater to your every need, it's not because of "something in their water", you prick. They're not bonzai trees, for chrissake. However, as ludicrous as those immature ditherings are, such paranoid rants can sometimes spawn striking poetic images once in a while. In "Lady Cab Driver", for instance, just as the singer is fantasizing about 'doing it' with the titular character, he starts to *dedicate* each thrust of his hips to everything life has for us (yes, you read that correctly), both the good and the not-so-good. The list goes from politicians dooming our world to greedy billionaires, from God to nature, and finally, from his lover to himself and his own shortcomings (with a surprisingly candid admission he wishes he was "as tall and handsome" as his brother on one particular thrust--quite the precious psychological nugget for all wannabe shrinks out there). Sublimation of our instinctual death drives through sex has never been better depicted. Too bad the music (all that lazy funk set on "automatic' mode behind) is just... so-so. This is not exactly the case of finale "International Lover", where Prince pictures himself as a pilot of his own private Sex Airlines company. The singer won a Grammy for his impressive performance on this slow extravaganza, as tongue-in-cheek corny as it is tongue-in-your-mouth exhilarating. Honestly, Prince deserved that trophy, so good he is when he whispers and taunts his lady prey to get on board with him, moaning, howling and orgasming at the very end, just as their plane is reaching its pleasurable destination at last. A place called "Satisfaction", by the way--yeah, that same tropical island Mick Jagger kept yearning and yelling after, to no avail... Yet, as good as that destination is, once you've just spinned that track, you don't necessarily want to come back to it for your next holidays. It's a fun listen the first time around, we'll grant you that. But it's also *another* long-winded proposition coming at the end of an album almost exclusively filled with other such long jams and whatnot. As you and I know, promising trysts often end up being nothing but one-night-stands, even when the sex was good on that night. That's where hedonism soon starts to lose its edge, as is the case here. Fortunately, Prince was too eager to please to repeat the same mistakes twice, no matter how commercially successful *1999* turned out to be. "Sign 'O" The Times" had a similar concept, but it was so varied, so adventurous stylistically speaking, that its also admittedly long songs fare better today in comparison. "Parade" was a mixed affair, but it proved the funky midget was able to pen far shorter tracks that could still be impressive, whether in their sonic experimentations or their display of pop instincts. And *Purple Rain* was the best those two worlds had to offer, the exact balance Prince needed to reach right after *1999*. We won't go further after this eighties period, though. Even when a music review forces you to elaborate on sex and other earthly pleasures, there's still some minimum decency to preserve. It's not how long and how often you're doing it that counts. It's how much you can genuinely enjoy the whole thing. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 990 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 3 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 5 (including this one for its "historical" importance, even if I doubt it will make the final cut...) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 3]

For those who weren't there at the time, it's a little difficult describing how fresh and simply "out there" Björk's *Debut* felt when it came out in 1993. The difficulty is twofold: first, even though the former Sugarcube member drew heavily on the budding UK dance and electro scene for her early sonic explorations, that idiosyncratic voice of hers and its oh-so-Icelandic mannerisms were so powerful, so unique, that they could transcend any of the clichés picked out of her toy box to build the different soundscapes of her first solo effort. It's a voice everyone is familiar with now, whether you're a fan or not. But *at the time*, it was just something unheard of, even if you were a little aware of the Sugarcubes somehow. And it didn't even matter if some discrete parts of this first album already sounded somewhat *dated*, perhaps willingly, as with those tongue-in-cheek UK-club-scene inspired titles such as "Crying", "Big Time Sensuality" or "Violently Happy"--not to mention that naked cover of the cheesy Broadway novelty standard "Like Someone In Love", with only a simple harp to support Björk's extravagant ad-libs recorded in one take (small blunders included). The sheer originality of that voice, its harmonic instincts, along with its crystal-clear, youthful, Lolitaesque timbre--all of this could break through any wall, champagne glass or heart in the close vicinity. And just as importantly, that voice could sell any sort of music it chose as a backdrop, as long as the latter was decently written. So, in a way, it didn't really matter who Björk made this album with, even though Nellee Hooper did an excellent job co-writing half of the tunes and arranging all of them--his production chops here fortunately drawing more from an overall Massive Attack-level of quality than any of that hackneyed stuff he was responsible for in Soul II Soul. The Sugarcubes had just been a training run for Björk. Now she was embracing a promising future, being free to choose her collaborators as she saw fit for whatever was on her mind. Speaking of the future... The *other* difficulty when it comes to a retrospective take of *Debut* is to try to ignore everything that came after so as to assess it on its own terms. It's a near-impossible task. *Post*, *Homogenic* and *Vespertine* were genres of their own, the moments Björk burned her ships behind her for good so as to never turn back (if one of those albums is missing in this list of 1001 albums, it's just a crime). Those records are so striking and wonderful that *Debut* is a litlle pale in comparison, as flashy and eccentric as it first looked when it came out. Still, a large taste of the good things to come is still present in this record, and, unsurprisingly, those songs are the ones holding out better today. "Human Behaviour" is a quirky existential hit, as if Björk was a toddler playing with a Swiss clock, winding and rewinding it until the right joyful noise comes out. And I could listen to that bouncy timbal-sort-of-sound pattern for years, just as I could listen to Talvin Singh's lush, strings-and-tabla arrangements in "Venus As A Boy" for decades. This deceptively simple and tender song about an androgynous lover, one of Björk's greatest tunes, indeed marks a turning point where, for the first time ever, maybe, so-called "world music" was not used as a conceptual gimmick, but as a fresh, spontaneous impulse to fully embrace the sounds of this small blue planet, as varied as those sounds are. Björk is truly the first "global" artist to ever become a superstar. And more than any PR plan or conceptual blurb attached to what she was doing, this philosophy was translated into the music first and foremost.  For all its minor shortcomings, *Debut* is actually a very rare case in music history, one where an artist manages to push the enveloppe while still retaining their spontanity. The results of this rare combination are both playful and organic. "One Day", for instance, expertly uses a William Orbit style of ambient techno to paint the picture of an elated, wide-eyed messiah dreaming about a hopeful future. The song *is* naive, there's no arguing about that. And yet, it never makes you want to snarl or smirk, so enticing it is. Utopia is in our hands, you just need to believe in it. As for "Aeroplanes" and "The Anchor Song", they channel decades of jazz flourishes into their fabric and turn them into mere children's games, as easy on the ear as they are evocative on the mind. "The Anchor Song", in particular, is a miniature masterpiece, its barebones horn section displaying a minimalistic poetry that is all more fitting given the subject matter: Björk can only feel at home while bathing in an ocean, a paradox for many, but not for the romantic she is at heart. Maybe for certain cynical types out there, this sounds a trifle like a Sublime101 course. But it's a lesson the Icelandic songwriter will refine again and again in the future, starting with "Hyperballad" on the next record. It all starts there, with this track. And even before that, *Debut* remains a fountain of youth and potentialities, even today. *Here* is the deep lesson that makes the album an essential listen for both young and old souls of this world. Births, beginnings, eclosions, take-offs--you name them--have rarely felt any better than on this one. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 989 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 4 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 5 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 3]

When listening to *Maxinquaye*, Tricky's historical first solo LP, it quickly dawns upon you that Adrian Thaws could not have chosen a better stage name. Almost thirty years after this feat of an album, it indeed remains *tricky* to qualify what makes the latter one-of-a-kind. Freshly out of Massive Attack, where he had previously honed his soft, surreal, passive-aggressive style of rapping, and having found a rare pearl to counterbalance his raspy vocals with the clear-voiced, wispy singer Martina Topley-Bird, Thaws took the trip-hop formula he's never been at ease with, and soured it with massive doses of his own obsessions and paranoia, here taking the shape of altered-state-fueled rants filled with striking turns of phrases. In an astonishing twist, this postmodern rendition of voodoo blues enacted through samplers and sequencers makes for a stifling yet also often oneiric experience, both musically and lyrically. We won't delve too much into the lyrics here, as other reviews have made an excellent job explaining why they were so interesting and personal, but from Thaws' gravelly grunts complaining that "MTV goes too fast" for his own bodily rhythms, up to the many allusions to drugs, sexual dysfunctions and the sad state of England during the nineties, *Maxinquaye* indeed caught the zeitgeist of those disillusioned years like almost no other record at the time. Tricky here gave birth to a LP that is timeless in many different ways--as a loose post-apocalyptic narrative, as an organic feast unafraid of its own little dark corners, and as a groove record pointing the way for several subsequent acts playing "black" music (in all senses of the word, from soul to rap to industrial to post-punk). The bulk of Thaws' DIY message was: do not follow the usual guidelines, and it is one that is still resonating today with acts such as King Krule or Young Fathers, long after 'trip hop' itself is dead and gone. Minus one minor misfire--to which we'll come back later on--the A-side of the album is certainly worthy of its overall legend. Opener "Overcome"--a reinterpretation of Thaws' memorable lyrics in Massive Attack's "Karmacoma"--is a floor-tom-propelled marvel soaked in lush, mysterious synth rivulets and eddies sounding like so many pagan flutes. Tricky himself is nowhere to be heard on the track, there's just Topley-Bird's acid-tinged vocals to lighten the dark proceedings. For anyone remembering Thaws' original verse on Massive Attack's track, it was as if his female collaborator was here playing the role of a graceful sybill possessed by a devilish, fuming spirit speaking incantations through her mouth. And even if you were not familiar with "Karmacoma", the contents of those incantations against the "west" and its lack of spirituality hit the mark from the get-go. Next in line, "Ponderosa" displayed a monsoon of moist and relatively agitated tropical percussions celebrating a hedonism all too suspect not to betray the existential malaise that lies underneath it all. "I'll drink 'til I'm drunk, and I'll fuck 'til I'm senseless", Topley-Bird singspeaks. Both erotic and claustrophobic, the track is an admirable showcase for *Maxinquaye*'s many ambiguities and suspended/suspenseful moments. A little further down the line, "Hell Is Round The Corner" is another reinterpretation of Thaws' lines found in Massive's *Protection* album. It is worth noting here that this cut spins the same Isaac Hayes sample as the one used by Portishead for their hit single "Glory Box", a borrowing of "Ike's Rap II"'s organ riff played over a descending bass line (it was a coincidence that both projects used the same sample, apparently). But *Maxinquaye*'s use of Isaac Hayes is so smart, so well-arranged, and so perfectly in tune with Thaws and Topley-Bird's vocals about public and private hells, that the results are actually as good as "Glory Box" while managing to sound *way* different from it. If both cuts thus retain the same basic ingredient at their core, none of them can be deemed as superior to the other, and it's almost a miracle the two songs can exist side by side without one intruding on the other in your memory. Right after, the lascivious "Pumpkin"--featuring Alison Goldfrapp--both namechecks and samples The Smashing Pumpkins, infusing much welcomed twangy guitar digressions to the laid-back formula (a rock influence that sounds far different from the one on "Black Steel", but more on that later). As for "Aftermath", it is another killer track, taking its sweet time to mesmerize the listener with its flute solos over a promiscuously slooooow funk backdrop. And so on... Many other songs in the record have those sorts of incredible ideas, even the less impressive ones crammed towards its end. Because, yes, as much as *Maxinquaye* is groundbreaking, it admittedly still drags a little in its second part, to put things rather bluntly. We won't name the tracks responsible for this overall lessening of quality, because they're not *that* bad. It's just that shorter versions of them would have done the job right without killing the overall flow. Moist, claustrophobic ambiences, scratchy samples, and dreamy solipsistic delusions are still very much to the fore on those later developments, but one can't help thinking Thaws would have made *even more* of an impression if he had applied a little self-editing for those specific forays. We also take issue with the third track of the album, "Black Steel", a clunky, repetitive, alt-rock cover of Public Enemy that overstays its welcome, going far too long for no discernible reasons. The concept was good, maybe--suddenly, here come all-out rock guitars and drums for a rap cover, and this in the middle of so-called 'trip-hop'--but the inclusion of this somewhat hackneyed track so soon, right in the third slot, could have killed *Maxinquaye*'s momentum if the rest had not been so convincing as a whole. To his defense, Tricky has always been a very instinctual artist, not bothering too much about rhyme or reason in his sylistic inclusions and digressions. Just like for his lyrics, you either take it or leave it, so to speak, and this might just be as good as it is, to be honest. Because, for all our little complaints up there, you can't really blame Thaws for taking risks. Indeed, that uncompromising stance of his is also the reason the album ends with offerings as impressive and uncompromising as the droney, psychotic "Strugglin'", followed by that unexpected last-minute balm "Feed Me", whose soothing yet still uneasy music-box-like chimes echo throughout the mist long after the album is over. For all the minor drawbacks in *Maxinquaye*, there are still many treasures of this kind to dig out of the rainy, desolate beach at the end of the world that this legendary record is at heart. You may uncover a few secondary trinkets half-buried in the sand here and there, but they won't tarnish the gold you're still able to find out of the place. That's why gold-diggers keep on returning to that beach after all these years, and rightly so. Soul-searching is an endless quest, and as such, *Maxinquaye* is as endless a statement as it should be. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 988 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 5 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 5 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 3]

Sorry, I tried. I really, really tried. But Elvis Costello does nothing for me, and this album as a whole did not even interest me enough to make me want to write a complete review. It's not even that it's bad (sometimes it's interesting to explain *why* you think a record is not for you). It's just that, apart from very, very rare highlights towards the end ("Lipstick Vogue", "Night Rally" ), the music on *This Year's Model* is neither groundbreaking nor particularly well written. For an album with such a reputation, I found the whole thing a bit tame, honestly (God, how downright *cheesy* those organ's 7th chords trimmings are sounding now). One quickly suspects that the critical sucess of this rockabilly rehash was just a fluke, Costello being just lucky enough to profit from the convenient coincidence of playing so-called "unpretentious" music at the exact same time punk surged. The problem is that, as unpretentions as the music is, it is neither powerful, nor sophisticated, nor subtle, nor anything else, to be frank (part from "Lipstick Vogue"'s conclusion maybe). And Costello's voice can be annoying at times, even though I admit it may become an acquired taste for some listeners. As for the lyrics, they're fine overall, with some striking one-liners here and there (a lot of them about Elvis' jealous obsessions, which got me worried for his partner, to be honest). Yet most of the compositions are just too linear and predictable to seal the deal for me. They simply don't make me feel anything, and "lip service" won't be something you'll ever get for me here. I always try to keep an open mind, but clearly, I don't see what the fuss was all about. What we have is more than competent musicianship, of course, even talent. But if you want to select a list of 1001 albums you should absolutely listen to, there are probably twice as many albums worthier of your time out there. Life's too short to waste it on stuff you consider bland. My loss, maybe. But that's the way it is for me. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 987 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 5 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 5 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 4 (including this one)]

You see those low-life drunkards having their habits in your favorite bar downtown? Once in a while, you may happen to stumble upon one who is actually interesting, funny, and even surprisingly witty--all in all, a nice guy, if not a *totally* articulate one. With such good company, you can talk about anything without ever feeling any judgemental posture from the other side. Besides, the man is lucid enough to know he's anything but a role model, and he's not one to shy away from his own life mistakes. Which is refreshing. So if you're available, and in the right mood for this, you may elect to have a wild night out with the alcoholic daredevil, having all sorts of mishaps and adventures together as you crawl from one dive to the next. It's quite fun. The thing is, in the morning you probably won't remember much of what transpired the night before--and you might even regret having painted the whole town red, if only for that goddamn hangover you're having to put up with now. Oddly enough, this might not be the case with your new friend. Bump into him a few days later, and he'll remember everything that went down that night with a knowing smile. But the thing is, can you believe the guy? Can you? If *this* was the effect intended by Tom Waits for *Nighthawks At The Diner*, it is an unmitigated success. Recorded in a studio, but with a live audience of friends and acquaintances Waits had invited for the occasion, the album's fundamental conceit nicely sums up its author's main paradox: loose and unhinged and uncensored on the surface, but--if you dig just a little deeper--far more in control than what he first lets on. This release has the *feel* of a genuine live album recorded in a smoky jazz club--with a real audience hooting, clapping and laughing at Waits' wisecracks between the numbers. But to a certain extent, the whole thing is only a simulacrum, the auditory equivalent of a WWF tournament. It's hard to *believe* in it, just as it's hard to believe Waits was *genuinely* drunk during the performance, all actor-studio-level rants and inebriated stammerings aside. And even if Waits *was* under the influence, it's quite easy to tell how every slip of the tongue, every slur, ever mumble, were actually nothing but calculated moves, parts of an overall script Waits had in his head from the get-go. It's a great script, with chunks of it maybe improvised on the spot. But it's a script nonetheless. All of this ties in with general assessments many have made about Waits. According to his unofficial biographer Barney Hoskyns, \"Tom Waits is as much of a character created for his fans as it is a real man\", his \"persona of the skid-row boho/hobo\" being an \"ongoing experiment in performance art\". Admittedly, the line between performance and authenticity might be a little thinner than this somewhat simplistic explanation. Mick Brown, a music journalist from Sounds who interviewed Waits in the mid-1970s, noted that Waits \"had immersed himself in this character to the point where it wasn't an act and had become an identity\". But whatever the case may be, such a fundamental amibiguity is discernible in *Nighthawks At The Diner*. On the double album's first two sides, this trick, this illusion--if indeed there is one--holds up with some great effects overall. It's easy to suspend your disbelief while listening to Waits making an \"Emotional Weather Report\" about his sad mental state (and his appartment's state of disarray, too!). As it's easy enjoying his performance when he narrates a drunken road trip \"On A Foggy Night\". Those early cuts are more spoken than sung, yet the words are so good, the Bukowskian writing so rich and detailed, that it's easy to feel as exhilarated as the audience heard on tape. Funny lines abound, in and between the songs (the rant about masturbation is priceless, and so is the one about the suspicious food found in the nightly LA joints making up the scenery of most of the songs). After those singspeak cuts, \"Eggs And Sausage\" and \"Better Off Without A Wife\" show a slightly different side of Waits, one where he actually *sings*, and his vocals are just perfect, both raucous and melodic. The parts where he skats even prove he could have been just as impressive as a singer performing with a clear voice, even though it's an avenue he never really explored during his career. \"Eggs And Sausages\" is also very endearing as a composition, with its chorus made of the different food orders overheard by the narrator as he sits alone in the titular diner, having passing thoughts about the lover who left him. Of course, all of this--album title included--is a wink to Edward Hopper's painting *Nighthawks*, a wink also obvious in the album's centerpiece \"Nighthawks Postcards (From Easy Street)\", a long hard-bop dirge filled with memorable snippets and wasted bravura moments. The only difference is that the legendary mystery displayed by the painting is here replaced with a sense of ironic burlesque. The whole project is a parody in that sense, too, even without the fake concert affair. Unfortunately, by the second record in the lot, the whole thing blurs into a formless ensemble of less striking cuts, just like those memories of yesterday's wild night that don't make a shred of sense on the next day. The turns of phrase that you thought were so witty on the first songs start to wear a little thin. Waits' puns about the \"cracks of dawn\" shedding some unflattery light on the titular nighthawks are hilarious at first, but when you hear two or three variations of them on side 3 or 4, they becomes a little too familiar--as is the man's weird drunken obsession for \"swizzle sticks\" and \"naugahyde\" covering stools and armchairs. Make no mistake, the writing is still stellar on many moments. But it's hard to decide whether its obfuscating obliqueness on a whole is the result of it having drunkard narrators, or it just being penned by a lazy author who didn't even bother to organize the admittedly beautiful mess in his mind. Likewise, the jazz band behind is a more-than-competent crew. But nothing that they're playing is really standing out. Everything is flattened; piano, saxophone and upright bass solos come and go without leaving much of an impression; and if the groove sounds good, it still remains performative, unoriginal and safe throughout. There's one notable exception when the sax player expertly imitates the sound of a car whizzing by the narrator on a highway at some point. But such moments are too short, too far, and too few. The real last track stands out, though. It's a cover of country singer Tommy Faile's ghost story \"Big Joe And Phantom 309\", the sort of spooky tale drunks will tell to each other at the very end of the night, just as their inebriation has turned them all to easily-swayed children. As such, it's a nice capper for the album, right before Waits gives credits to his musicians over an utimate instrumental piece. Yet as focused as this last effort is, musically and thematically speaking, this track comes too late to make up for all the meandering moments right before it. *Nighthawks At the Diner* remains an interesting listen overall. But as an *essential one*, or as an entry point into Tom Waits' oeuvre, it is probably far from being the most obvious choice. That being said, very few things are *obvious* when it comes to Waits. There are layers over layers in his body of work, and some might look a little too opaque or quizzical for certain listeners. Sometimes, you don't really have a choice deciding who you are going to have fun with at the bar. You take the first tipsy guy or gal standing in front of the counter, and roll with it. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 986 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 5 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 (including this one, even though chances are that a *different* Tom Waits release will make the final cut) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 4]

Can't really write a decent review about this one. During the early nineties, I was into American indie/grunge acts, but I was also interested in former eras, such as the punk movement and sixties pop. And I could also enjoy some britpop acts. But not *this one*. The first time I listened to Suede, I found their mannerisms pompous, and I did so not only for *Dog Man Star*, but starting from this band's debut album, actually (when the second one was panned, it was as if everyone was stating what was obvious to me from the get-go). Of course, at the time, I didn't know a lot about Bowie and The Smiths, who were *huge* influences on Suede. Since those days, I have learnt to appreciate those very influences (especially Bowie). But the irony is that, because of what I know now, it's *all the more difficult for me* to enjoy Suede these days. When I listen to them *now*, I just can't help thinking they're still a somewhat bland variation of earlier, far more impressive acts. With very awkward and dated production values, to boot (some of the effects on the vocals and guitars are just plain horrible). And I'm *still* a little annoyed by the overall mannerisms, mostly because I find a lot of them stale, shallow and irritating (Anderson's overkill *outré* voice is grating to the extreme sometimes, even on one of the few decently written songs from the album, such as Animal Nitrate for instance). Suede are just not as fresh and exciting as the models they are desperately imitating. And because of all this, I can't manage to find any *substance* in the songs of this record, as hard as I've tried. Oh, I know that Bowie himself once praised them. But it won't even make me change my mind. When Bowie praised Suede, he wasn't exactly in the best creative spot of his career anyway. Maybe it was just a way for him to send all those winks Suede had made to him back to them. At the time I didn't care. Now, I do, somehow. But even Bowie could make blunders (he actually made a lot of them in the later parts of his career). And this brings me back to the original influences informing this album. Sorry, but I'm always gonna prefer the originals... How ironic. It seems that Suede were never there in the right time for me. I know they've been critically reevaluated, and they probably at least deserve some of the *current* praise for going against the grain during their heyday. But it's still impossible for me to genuinely appreciate their music. Sometimes, it's as simple as that. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 985 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 5 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 4 Albums on which I feel my judgment is muddled by my past forays into specific genres instead of others: 1 (including this one) Technically, I shouldn't even be grading those records. But *some* might end up on my final list for their somewhat *objective* cultural importance, who knows?]

FIVE STARS An all-time classic As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 984 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 6 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 4 Albums on which I feel my judgment is muddled by my past forays into specific genres instead of others (some might end up on my final list if they're culturally important): 1]

Not much to say about this one. After *Astral Weeks* proved itself too complex for the charts and general audience of his time, Van Morrison chose a far more direct approach, adding a *huge* chunk of rhythm'n'blues to the formula. And to help him attain his goals, he found a stellar backing band in the Catskills, after following Dylan's steps over there (for a relatively small town, Woodstock seemed to have quite an impressive scene, which did not wait for that famous festival to thrive). Such a backing band behind Van Morrisson brings *a lot* to *Moondance*. The saxophone section--tenor, alto and soprano--is just doing an extraordinary job, all lush and sinuous, especially on the most memorable songs ("And It Stoned Me", "Caravan" , "Into The Mystic", "Glad Tidings", "Brand New Day"). Great performances overall. As for Van Morrison's voice, recorded in live takes throughout, it is technically perfect. You really believe he is a genuine American r'n'b singer. Well, except maybe on the title track, but it's probably because that cut is a little underwhelming compared to the rest, sounding more like a jazz parody executed in a second-tier club than a genuinely interesting cut (putting this song in slot number 2 was not the brightest idea in my honest opinion). That being said, even some of the least immediately striking cuts have something going for them. Case in point: "Everyone", with its clavinette and flutes heavily drawing on Irish folk influences. And lyrically, the songs are very interesting and personal, displaying a sort of down-to-earth mysticism about love, nature and mundane experiences. Such a thing doesn't even seem possible on paper. Yet Van Morrisson pulls it off effortlessly. The only reason I'm not giving this album five stars is because as far as I like albums with a single intent in mind, this one is just a little too one-note for me. After *Astral Weeks*' commercial failure, and from this point onwards, Van Morrisson would only take calculated risks, for better or for worse. And here, it shows. But even with that minor grudge in mind, this is definitely an album to listen to before you die. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 983 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 7 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 4 Albums on which I feel my judgment is muddled by my past forays into specific genres instead of others (some might end up on my final list if they're culturally important): 1]

As far as concept albums go, this one's a keeper. And it's a U.K. rap/grime concept album, to boot! My only minor reproach is that there are a few underwhelming tracks where the overall narrative takes over the music itself in terms of priority, especially towards the middle. But fortunately, this is not the case on the records' highlights. "It Was Supposed To Be Easy" is a striking opener, Mike Skinner's heavily accented yet clear-as-a-bell lad's voice doing wonders to set up the table and introduce the story *in media res*, as in most great short stories or novels. "Blinded By The Lights" is one of the best depictions of a drunken night ever penned this side of the pond--it's slow pace swaying you into the narrator's hallucinory state of mind as if you were there in that sleazy club with him. Far more straightforward, "Fit But You Know It" is a snarly hit with a catchy rock guitar sample. And "Dry Your Eyes" and "Empty Cans" end the yarn with the right amount of emotions, the latter even serving as a morality tale of sorts about free will and redemption. The strings arrangements on those two last tracks are very subtle, too. They're not strings for Hollywood stuff, they're strings for Mike Leigh or Ken Loach. Which is fitting here. As usual for those five or four-star reviews, I won't add much to what has already been written out there about this particular album. I even fear that I've spoiled the story a little with what I've written so far. But beyond that spoiler alert, what I found really interesting about this sophomore effort is that it was a different way for Skinner to depict that working class world he had already brilliantly explored in *Original Pirate Material*. Here this world of lads, lasses and geezers is viewed through the lens of a particular narrative, and such storytelling ambition often feels earned. Because Skinner keeps it sharp and simple, right as it should be given the topics he chose to deal with. It's a story about characters having mundane challenges in their social and love lives--characters having money issues, passing deluded thoughts and self-denial phases, not to mention addictions that might turn from a minor problem to a major one if left unchecked. But mostly, it's a story about simple folks. It's a rap opera, yes. But it's a rap opera about us as a people. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 982 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 8 (including this one--but only on the condition there's room for *Original Pirate Material*, too) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 4 Albums on which I feel my judgment is muddled by my past forays into specific genres instead of others (some might end up on my final list if they're culturally important): 1]

FIVE STARS An all-time classic. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 981 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 9 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 4 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list if they're culturally important): 1]

Sorry, I tried. I really, really tried. But The Verve does nothing for me, and this album is no exception. Nothing in *A Northern Soul* is groundbreaking or particularly well written, and the songs are just too linear and predictable to seal the deal for me. This... stuff simply doesn't make me feel anything. "How long will I run for?," Ashcroft complains during the opener. Too long, probably. And this here is only a first self-indulgent, lengthy dirge among many other ones on the album (all of them, actually?). That some people in here dare compare this excruciatingly boring record to Radiohead's *OK Computer* is baffling to me. Are people this tone-deaf??? I get that listeners have different tastes when it comes to harmony, composition and song structures. But c'mon, you gotta be kidding me here, nothing in this album is lively or truly dynamic. Nothing stands out. It's just a big blurry cloud throughout. Chords don't have a shred of originality in them, neither do most of the hackneyed dad-rock arrangements,. Lyrics have no substance, and vocal melodic lines are not interesting at all--they meander without anything catching your ear (and their delivery is a bit ridiculous sometimes, even though I have nothing against Ashcroft's voice per se). "This Is Music", The Verve tells us. Uh, OK. But is this *good* music? No. It's just very lame, pop-wise. And neither is it original production-wise. I'd rather listen to a drone from one of Sunn O)))'s lesser records for the rest of my life instead of having to listen to this again. At least a long guitar drone would provide an interesting atmosphere in the room... I'm pretty sure The Verve were themselves aware of their lack of skills as songwriters from the get-go. It's no surprise they used a sample from an orchestral version of an old Rolling Stones staple song on their next record to pen their only real hit, "Bittersweet Symphony". They *knew* they didn't have enough inspiration in them to create a song that would be both catchy and genuinely moving. So they had to steal a good idea somewhere to make it happen. I very rarely say that a band is overrated, because I know music is first and foremost a subjective thing. Yet here, I'm tempted to say so, to be honest. I always try to keep an open mind, but clearly, I don't see what the fuss is all about with The Verve. What we have with them is more than competent musicianship, of course. As in 'they can play instruments'. But if you want to select a list of 1001 albums you should absolutely listen to, surely there are twice as many albums worthier of your time out there. Life's too short to waste it on stuff you consider bland. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 980 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 9 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 5 (including this one) Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list if they're culturally important): 1]

"Listen Without Prejudice" Well, I just did. But apart from two songs, "Freedom! '90"--a soulful hit displaying as many catchy vocal hooks in a single track as ones found in Tame Impala's whole discography--and "Cowboy And Angels"--a lush synth-jazz cut about unrequited love with Bladerunner-like atmospherics--yes, apart from those two singles, this album can't hold your attention the way great albums do. Admittedly, its general sound holds out surprisingly well given the genre and era that spawned it: as a characteristically late 80s/early 90s production, the whole thing is relatively subtle at least. Yet apart from the two singles quoted up there, the rest--mostly comprised of ballads--doesn't have much to offer in terms of thrills or interesting emotions to go through. It's well-produced "elevator music". But it's elevator music nonetheless. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 979 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 9 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 6 (including this one) Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list if they're culturally important): 1]

Sure, this first stereo album by Presley is exquisitely recorded, especially for the year it was released. And Elvis has never sung better than on this one, apparently, adding range and nuance to his performance, hereby displaying vocal chops that were nowhere to be found in his earlier mono records. But the problem lies elsewhere: does anyone really think the songs on this record are superior to the all-time hits Elvis Presley had released during the fifties? Weren't the rougher vocals and more barebone instrumentation dating from those first singles and albums far more compelling than this mellow stuff here? Sure, it's OK to broaden your horizons... But even the cover of "Fever" feels lackluster compared to the earlier versions of that classic gem of a song. No wonder John Lennon said that Elvis symbolically died when he went to the army. Lennon was no deaf idiot, he knew that technically, there was nothing wrong with this album. But the spirit of early rock'n' roll was gone, and you couldn't fool sincere fans of the genre like him. Admittedly, there are a few bluesy cuts towards the end of that record that still make it an interesting listen for folks interested in that period. But there's also too much pop/doo-wop stuff watering down that early rock'n'roll dimension kids like Lennon longed for in the first place. Besides, the album is also somewhat obnoxious for being partly a PR plan from manager Colonel Parker so as to artificially (and successfully) revive the Elvis craze. After spending two years in the U.S. Army in Germany, Presley sure worked his ass off on that one to make sure his comeback would be worthwhile. But does that mean that the result should be a mandatory listen? Hard work is not always fruitful. And more worryingly, it seems that Dimery and the writers from "1001 Albums..." are often under the spell of promotional plans dating from way back when in their selections of so-called "important" records. And those PR plans shouldn't have a bearing on their critical assessment today. For chrissake, this stint here is the mother of all the PR shenanigans that followed, and it's a sixty-plus-year-old stint, to boot. Good music (or even "bad' music, for that matter) has nothing to do with this. This here is marketing, first and foremost. That people fell for it sixty years ago is understandable. But today??? There's another issue die-hard Elvis fans never consider when they put forward albums like these. Nobody ever thinks of the younger generations who might wonder why Elvis was such a phenomenon for their grandparents or great-grandparents. If you exposed them first to this album, they wouldn't get the picture at all. There are at least two or three records before it, during the fifties, that make a finer job explaining the brush strokes of the phenomenon that Presley was. And some of those records also have hidden gems that are far more intriguing or evocative than any of the stuff in *Elvis Is Back!*. Take "Blue Moon", on the very first LP, for instance. Finally, no one should forget that Presley also represented the "white" face of a black culture largely left in the margins of the "mainstream" at the time. And that, as such, his inclusion on this list should *at least* be complemented by the inclusion of lesser-known African-American artists. In a way, I'm delighted that this album has been suggested to me, because it's given me the occasion to discover who the first performer of "Fever" was. His name was Little Willie John, he's a half-forgotten figure, and yet his performance of the song was just brilliant, as brilliant as the one by Peggy Lee (and far more brilliant than the one on *Elvis Is Back!*). And the most important point comes now: anyone who thinks I'm exaggerating things when I (along many others) state that Elvis is still a symptom of the plundering of black culture should consider the following nugget: when you type "Fever" on Spotify, many versions of the song appear, by Peggy Lee, Elvis Presley, Michael Bublé and the likes... Yet Little Willie John's original version does not, at least not before dozens of other suggestions. If *this* is not a symbol of cultural appropriation, I don't know what is. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 978 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 9 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 7 (including this one--unless I have room for it, but it'd be for its historical importance only, and it will be at the very bottom of my list). Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list if they're culturally important): 1]

Nice progressive house/techno from the nineties. Not sure I have much to say about this, though. The thing is, I can't help feeling the writers of this 1001 albums list are a little misguided when it comes to niche genres or anything outside the realm of mainstream pop/rock. It's not that Underworld was an act unworthy of notice. It's just that, if you take into consideration the IDM scene of the last three decades, stuff from the Warp roster--to take one precise example--is criminally underrepresented by Dimery and the likes. I've seen the whole list of those 1001 albums. Where are the great records by Boards Of Canada, LFO, Aphex Twin or Oneohtrix Point Never? And even if you go beyond the realm of dance music for a broader take on electronica, there's still bands like Broadcast, PVT or Flying Lotus to take into account. And this is just from one label here. In my view, some of the earliest acts I've just quoted are sounding less dated than Underworld, and I'm pretty sure they were far more influent. The problem with forward-looking genres such as techno or house music is that, ironically, they quickly become a thing of the past. It takes a very indiosyncratic vision and a keen sense of originality to escape such a trap. Not everyone can be as prophetic as Kraftwerk, with their layers of self-irony, gracious minimalistic arrangements, and songwriting chops infused here and there. As I said, Underworld was a very decent act. "Pearl's Gate", for example, is a well-crafted drum'n'bass cut. "Blueski" is interesting as an ambient experimental loop. "Stagger", with its pop inclinations, is a nice closer. And in expanded editions, you have the iconic keyboard-riff-meets-boom-boom-extravaganza of "Born Slippy" (of *Trainspotting* fame). But where would I listen to any of these songs now? In a club? Nah, not groovy enough. In a dance music festival or a rave party? Nope, those "steady beats"--as one reviewer named them to describe half of those tracks--sound *way too steady* for both today. And here's the most important question: would you listen to this in your living room? No way for me, and I'm pretty sure that's the same answer for 90% of y'all. I can listen to groundbreaking electronic acts from 808 State to Jlin from an armchair and not feel ridiculous at all. But I'd feel a little daft having my speakers blare Underworld in my living room to be honest. Maybe in 1996 I wouldn't have. But in 2022? On a sidenote: Karl Hyde's daughter is playing in the amazing Black Country New Road these days. It's nice to see that one of the Underworld founders has passed the torch of his passion for music to his offspring, even if said daughter is using such passion for a radically different genre. The British scene has always been a great place for talented musicians, and since the last five years or so, it's been incredibly lively (especially now that we're finally out of that awful "landfill indie" era). But the last edition of *1001 Albums To Listen To Before You Die* was published in 2017 and it direly needs to be updated now, in my humble opinion. If I had a say, I guess I would take out Underworld to make room for the next generation. And I'm pretty sure Karl Hyde himself wouldn't hold too much of a grudge against me considering *some* of my choices. :) [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 977 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 9 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 6 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 8 (including this one). Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list if they're culturally important): 1]

Apart from his reputation as an extravagant, sometimes difficult rock artist with free-jazz and musique concrète proclivities, I didn't know the first thing about Frank Zappa. This record was a surprisingly pleasant listen. I've browsed through other Zappa album deemed important by certain critics and fans, and now I know that immediate pleasure is not the first thing that comes to my mind with these high-conceptual and/or tongue-in-cheek recordings. *Freak Out*, by the Mothers of Invention, is the only one of those records I found genuinely enjoyable on first listens. The rest is really, *really* for the fans, I think. Two things stand out in *Hot Rats*, though. As in *Freak Out*, the lush arrangements provided by horn and reed sections is a huge plus. But in *Hot Rats*, there's something that not even *Freak Out* can boast about, and it's the hard grooves. Some drums are in a funky mode that's particularly lively, almost krautrock in their intent. And when they don't, they swing in a slower yet as efficient fashion, hereby supporting jazzier cuts that are equally satisfying. I barely noticed all the tracks were all instrumental except one sung by Captain Beefheart. I was too much taken in the soundscapes. Obviously, I'm a rookie when it comes to Zappa, so I can't really judge this effort in a broader context. But I understand he's an acquired taste anyway, and you can't rush things with an artist as productive and unhinged as him. Let's just say that *Hot Rats* does sound like a promising entry point, at least, just like *Freak Out* was on a more classic-rock, partly parodic, mode. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 975 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 9 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 (including this one) Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 8 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 1]

Four stars An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. *Deep Purple In Rock* is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in hard rock. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 974 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 10 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 8 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 1]

Pass on this one. I know it's a landmark album for gangsta rap, and that it has a *huge* cultural importance for hip hop at large, and that its influence turning P-Funk into G-funk was enormous. Without this album, there's no *Doggystyle* by Snoop or the best Cypress Hill records, and that would be a damn shame. But somehow I always thought that *2001* was a far more pleasant and bouncier listen overall (the hits on that next record are a huge plus, too, and I can't see any of those catchy hits on *The Chronic*, honestly). Purists will probably tell me I'm a fool here, but I don't care. As a reply, I could argue that "conscious" rap from before that album did suffer a lot from the advent of that sort of sound, and that it was not necessarily good news for everyone at the time. In a way, I'd be be *more of a purist* than any of those contradictors would be then or now. And remember: nobody here would necessarily be right or wrong in their different stances, as it is most often the case with music anyway. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 973 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 10 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 8 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2 (including this one)]

"The lyrics have since been praised [...], but the band later said they did not gel well with the music and made the piece complicated for the sake of being so". This quote is from Wikipedia's page on the album. It is only about one song, but it could as well be applied to the record. Heck, it could probably be applied to Peter-Gabriel-era Genesis as a whole. But to stick to *Sell England By The Pound*, it's interesting to know that, by their own admission, the majority of the band members consider this album as a failure of sorts (a point confirmed many times on the Wikipedia page). And this is probably because, apart from very, very rare highlights here and there (most of them in "Firth Of Forth"), the music on *Selling England By The Pound* is not particularly well-written. Sure, it sounds complex and convoluted, but a single listen is enough to tell that the band actually just pasted different parts or jams together so as to create their overlong songs. This here is the very definition of bad writing and logically, the end result is horrendous in its lack of cohesion. As for the recording itself, it has aged very, very poorly. The flute solos sound a little cheesy, but they're not the worst part, the worst part being those terrible synth solos sticking out like sore thumbs in some of the most boring passages ever written in the prog-rock genre. Stupendous how so many people had such bad taste when they made this album a commercial success at the time. When it comes to vocals on the album, they are more than decent overall. However Gabriel's melodic lines are often not catchy or memorable enough to bring that cohesive fabric that's so direly needed here. Lyrics are fine, with many striking one-liners here and there (the last line of The Battle Of Epping Forest is indeed an interesting anti-climax). Yet most of the songs are too clunky to seal the deal for me. They simply don't make me feel anything. I always try to keep an open mind, but clearly, I don't see what the fuss is all about here. What we have is more than competent musicianship, of course, even talent. But if you want to select a list of 1001 albums you should absolutely listen to, there are probably twice as many albums worthier of your time out there. Life's too short to waste it on stuff you consider a little ridiculous. My loss, maybe. But that's the way it is for me. [Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 972 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 10 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 9 (including this one) Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2]

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. Up to 1966, The Byrds had enough assets in their game to consider they had already established the perfect formula in their very first LP, *Hey Mr Tambourine Man*, and that there was no reason for them to veer off-course three albums in after the success they had. That formula is that cliché most listeners still associate The Byrds with today: use Dylan's shortest, catchiest tunes, cover them by adding melifluous vocal harmonies that are complete u-turns from Bob's rough, nasal timbre and inflexions, wait for those covers to hit the charts, and then cash in. Of course, you could still replace Dylan with Pete Seeger and The Bible (see "Turn, Turn, Turn"), traditional tunes or everything in between. But in its core, the formula didn't change a bit. Not that individual members of the band were frauds and impostors as they performed those skilled transformations. Coming themselves from the US folk scene, they had learned how to translate those folk staples into a more pop-oriented language, but thanks to their original background, they could also instill those rendition with a much-needed sense of authenticity. Both serious and commercial, folk and rock, The Byrds were at the crossroads of everything the sixties were all about. With Gene Clark, The Byrds also had a main songwriter in their ranks, admittedly, and the covers were interspersed with originals, too. But even if Clark seemed like a competent songwriter in his own right, this didn't fool audiences. As influential as The Byrds were on the overall sound of the mid-sixties, they were first and foremost seen as performers. And it was never a problem. The sixties going as fast as they did, it soon became one, however. Especially when Gene Clark left the boat at the exact moment when true authorship started to become a huge plus for pop audiences on both sides of the Atlantic. After Clark's departure, Jim McGuinn and David Crosby had no choice but to step in and increase their songwriting output. That some reviewers have considered that the two guitarists were still in the process of learning the ropes of that trade in 1966 is a little baffling given how the originals on this album could easily be deemed superior to most of Clark's endeavors. The original songs shine throughout the whole LP, leaving many earworms in their trail, from enticing opener "5D" to the John Coltrane and Ravi Shankar-inspired "Eight Miles High", a cryptic track (partly written by Clark before he left) about soft drugs--a tune logically banned on the radio--often quoted as the the first psychedelic rock song ever penned. *Psychedelic*. The word is like that magic carpet on which most of the band members sit Ali-Baba style on the album's front visual. It is a promise to fly to outer worlds of the mind, a promise that's also in keeping with the Sci-Fi themes in some of the songs. "Mr Spaceman" is for instance a tongue-in-cheek country-rock pastiche of sorts referring alien abductions. And the fifth dimension of "5D" is one inspired by Einstein's foray into theoretical physics, not lysergic drugs, contrary to audience's expectations at the time. But such misunderstanding is not necessarily a betrayal of what the song--and the album to which it inspired the name--is all about. Open your mind. Feel that awe (and possible terror, too) when the gates of perceptions are blown far wide. As hackneyed and cliché that philosophy may read today, what's impressive about the album is how fresh, effortless and spontaneous the results of that preliminary foray into a new world appear today. That pop freshness is partly explained by the fact that the Byrds were instigators of that psychedelic trend, and not mere followers of it (the rougher and more garage-oriented version of that trend exemplified by The 13th Floor Elevators came out in the exact same year, for instance). And like many other instigators they were not necessarily understood as they should have been. Short yet insistent bridges and breaks with reverse-tape-recorded guitars, raga-like flourishes and other sitar-inspired riffs abound during the record. The move was challenging for general audiences, yet The Byrds took their chances, catching some fans and even music critics off-guard. The covers were also more interesting and riskier than anything that the band had ever attempted (no Dylan anthem to be heard there). It's a risk that paid off, generally speaking, and nowhere did it pay off more brightly than on that mysterious musical rendition of a poem by Turkish poet Nâzim Hikmet, a quite obscure reference for western audiences. "I Come And Stand At Every Door" is indeed as hypnotic as it is slowly powerful, yet never does it come off as a pretention dirge, so beautiful its intricate harmonies are. At its core, it is a miniature lesson in patience and meditation, one that Crosby would use to great effects again in his own song "Everybody's Been Burned" on the next album. But it's mostly one of many tracks on the album that manages to transcend tts sixties psychedelic context to become something a little more timeless than that, and one can only regret Crosby didn't *really* explore this trend further later on. Obviously, opening your mind also encourages a spaghetti-at-the-wall approach. Even as recently as the last ten years or so, some critics have indeed complained of the topsy-turvy nature of this record marking the Byrds' transition from folk-pop translators of Dylan's repertoire into psychedelic adventurers. But complaining about any lack of cohesiveness here might be missing the point, since the twists and turns in the tracklisitng are part of the appeal here devised for receptive souls tired by standardized listening (and thinking). It's the sort of standard The Byrds had actually set upon themselves during the earliest part of their career, and one can guess they were tired, too. Fortunately, it didn't take them long to find a way out. After *Fifth Dimension*, The Byrds would even use what they had learned from the recording of this preliminary masterpiece to great effects on their two next records, often heralded as their very best. I sometimes wonder why those records, which are a bit of a mess themselves, are never judged as harshly as *Fifth Dimension*. Maybe it's because it takes *more* time for certain minds to open, and that contemporary critical reaction only caught up with The Byrds once Crosby was out of the picture, namely with *The Notorious Byrd Brothers*, leaving the two previous LPs with a more "difficult" critical reputation. But the magic carpet started flying here, with this very album. And to this mind also tired of standardized thinking, it has never flown more beautifully than when it soared like this to the lysergic skies, and beyond them. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 971 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 11 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 9 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2]

Four stars and a half. An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. Highlights abound throughout this record, from that iconic opening played on synths on "Baba O'Riley" to the poignant, immediately gripping and memorable "Behind Blue Eyes", followed by epic closer "Won't Get Fooled Again". Like many classic albums by The Who, the whole might be just *a little* too grandiose and "over the top" to be digested in one single take, but this here is a very minor complaint. Just press pause once in a while to catch your breath, and then head right back into it. There are enough wonders and treasures inside this record to make it a worthwhile experience. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. *Who's Next* is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in The Who. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. if you haven't already. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 970 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 12 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 9 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2

What. A. Bore. Fest. A lot of things from the naughts won't age gracefully, you can bet your boots on it. And this very minor band (who happened to be at the right place in the right time, Mercury Prize or not) perfectly exemplify why this period was so far up its own ass that a lot of folks couldn't even *get* how good music actually worked. Fortunately, things have gotten far better now (and it's exactly *why* this list of 1001 albums needs to be updated a.s.a.p.) As many other reviewers here, I found the falsetto voice quite annoying or grating, but it's not even the main issue I'm having with Wild Beast. The real problem with this very pretentious band--whose intended sound should supposedly draw a little on "pop music" formulas to make any sort of sense--is that they can't write choruses. CHORUSES, guys! Something human, energetic or simply a little inviting to grab your attention, so as to bear with your all-too-precious cabaret-like dirges and over-the-top theatrical bullshit in between. Even blokes like Morrissey from The Smiths, or Matthew Bellamy from Muse (whose comparatively "wimpy" melodic lines could somehow be linked to what Wild Beasts' singer is attempting to do here) understood the sheer importance of that pivotal ingredient. C.H.O.R.U.S.E.S. Bear in mind that I mentioned Bellamy and Morrissey, and not Bowie, whose memory shouldn't even be associated with such a lame band, contrary to what I've read somewhere here. And please, oh please, don't tell me Wild Beasts avoided good choruses so as to not compromise their "artistic vision" or something. No, clearly, they couldn't write anything catchy melody-wise, it's so obvious when you're listening to this terrible, terrible album. The rhythm section is telling a different story, though. Drums and bass interactions are quite brilliant throughout this album, helped by decent guitar licks. But unless you're in certain genres (electronic music, jazz, really *experimental* rock or post-rock), you can't build good songs when only *this* is decent in your compositions. And you certainly can't build any good albums. This here is a lesson in *bad songwriting*. May it be a cautionary tale in the foreseeable future for any young band wishing to play in that late-naughts genre of dreampop/indie pop, if ever it comes back in style. But to be honest, I'm just hoping this day actually never ever happens. It's always a good idea to err on the safe side, kiddos. You've been warned! Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 969 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 12 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 10 (including this one, especially this one!!!!!) Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2

Four stars and a half. An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. Of course, it's a double album, so it's sprawling and lacking cohesion somehow. But the association of Lindsey Buckingham's sonic experimentations with Stevie Nicks or Christine McVie's pop stunners is an irresistible ticket, and one of Fleetwood Mac's most interesting records, right after the incredible artistic and commercial success that *Rumours* was. It's a little odd to think this album was released in the same years punk was proving its influence would have to be taken into account from now on (even as they were a hit machine, Fleetwood Mac was also a little anachronistic in their heyday). But in a way, it *also* makes sense that *Tusk* should be released in the same year as The Clash's *London Calling*, for instance. The relationships between the band members had become notoriously chaotic and strained, drugs and booze were a significant part of the album's budget, and Buckingham's songs proved he wanted to explore a more *abrasive* side of things. As a result of this particular "energy", this record goes over all the place, like the needle of a compass maniacally turning on itself. *Tusk* might not be a punk album sonically speaking. But its "spirit" is not so far off that mark. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. *Tusk* is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in Fleetwood Mac. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. if you haven't already. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 968 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 13 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 10

God, this didn't age well at all. The overall sound (gated drums, clean distortion on guitars, reverbed vocals...) is everything you can criticize about the eighties, and the crossover fusion compositions are hackneyed and cliché. That's too bad, because the socially conscious lyrics are very interesting. But the music is just awful. During those years, hip hop was starting to become what Public Enemy's Chuck D named as the "Black CNN". Of course, Living Colour were not so far from that objective themselves when it comes to their lyrics. But If you want to feel the true power of political messages uttered during those days, coupled with powerful sounds of Black America looking for true emancipation (even if some of those hip hop sounds also admittedly sound a little dated today), go to Public Enemy, BDP, the Disposable Heroes Of Hiphoprisy, The Goats and other bands like this instead. And if really you want to delve further into rock-funk-rap crossover landmark albums with a political agenda, maybe go a few years later, when the genre was finally out of its awkward infancy with stuff like Rage Against the Machine or Body Count. You can't blame Living Colour from trying to open doors that had not been opened before (apart by Parliament/Funkadelic, maybe) But sometimes, beginnings are not the most interesting moments of an overall story... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 967 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 13 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 11 (including this one)

Four stars  An album which still holds its own many years after it was released, as bizarre (and wonderful) as it is, and an essential listen for anyone interested in experimental or groundbreaking music from the seventies. The only problem is that, contrary to other important names in that genre and era (Can obviously comes to mind here), it's not always an easy listen when you're going through this record in one take. One can even argue that some tracks are just weird just for the sake of being weird. That being said, it would be unfair to dismiss the *whole* of Faust IV, since there are also many moments on it that are mesmerizing, groovy, fun, mysterious, and even strangely addictive after several listens. The variety of surprising textures and arrangements displayed is a huge plus, navigating between rock, jazz, proto-techno and proto-punk still sounding as fresh and original as it did in 1973, as many other reviewers here pointed out ("proto" means part of the record is oddly prophetic of sounds to come). If only for this, it's a worthwhile listen, even if you'll never come back to it again. There's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. Faust IV is for anyone who has even a remote interest in krautrock. Heck, it even seems they invented the term themselves with the name of the first track. A sure sign it's an essential listen. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 966 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 14 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 7 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 11  Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2

Part RJD2, part Daft Punk, Part 2ManyDJs, part Boards of Canada, Mylo's sole album is solid entry overall in the IDM/house/electronica genre. The first two tracks are enticing and mellow, the ones that follow ("Muscle Cars", "Drop the Pressure" and "In My Arms") are absolute dancefloor bangers, and the rest of the album flows neatly from one song to the next. A special mention should go out to the title track, with its hilarious sample of a Christian fundamentalist's rant here turned on its head to become a celebration of everything that gathers us all here on this very app. That some music fans in this group can't understand that *Destroy Rock & Roll* is first and foremost an ironic title--or pretend not to understand it--is baffling to me (see some of those 1/5 reviews at the bottom of the page). Some people *do* have a very short attention span, don't they? Well... Listening to one album a day is an arduous process, i'll give them that... :) That being said, that *one* review claiming this music is the sort of of stuff you hear while you're on hold on the phone might *also* have a point, and it made me laugh, I admit it. It's indeed probable that the album's beats and grooves sound a little dated to some ears today. Yet one could argue that there are still enough little touches here and there to make such sound timeless in its own special way (vocal samples, funky basslines, vocoder-tinged vocals, ambient layers, etc.). On a side note, it must also be pointed out that *Destroy Rock & Roll* foretold the mash-up craze of the mid-aughts. I don't know if we can *really* thank Mylo for that (that craze deflated pretty quickly, and this for good reasons), but there's no arguing he was ahead of the curve when he released that first album of his. *Destroy Rock & Roll*, might not be an essential listen for some, but to me it still deserves its four stars, if only for this--not to mention the fact that the record displays richness, inventivity and, most of all, a very solid list of tracks. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 966 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 14 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 8 (including this one) Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 11 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2

Their work, Lux once said, was “a rallying point for certain kinds of people to come together and for certain kinds of people to stay out.” The Cramps' singer take on what they do is as clear as it can get, and *Songs The Lord Taught Us* probably exemplifies this philosophy the best. With this first LP, they established the 'psychobilly' genre: an outré, deranged take on rockabilly attracting misfits, outcasts and other weirdoes gathering around tales of teenage werewolves, zombies and alien daddies abandoning their traumatized offspring on earth. Punk twisted those old 50s references into a pure carnival. And it's one many rock fans might be inclined to return to for years to come. Musically, you can't expect anything more than barebones touches to honor the lyrical program: Poison Ivy's simple yet evocative guitar lines are earworms ready to suck on your brain like so many extraterrestrial leeches, Lux Interior's demented screeches and howls can have a mesmerizing effect on what's left of it, and the overall sound is just a messy mudpit. Is it *good* or interesting music? Maybe not. But sometimes atmosphere and moods are more important than compositions (and a lot of covers are here anyway, with "Fever" once again attracting most of the spotlight). As for the lyrics, they are outrageously funny. Just imagine that "Zombie Dance" mocking the so-called "normality" of self-righteous people, and you'll get the idea of how Ivy and Interior the rest of society at large. Maybe through their tales of the undead and other monsters, The Cramps just wanted to point out they were more alive than most people in their lives. If that's the case, it's a job well-done. 3 or 3.5 for the music. 5 for the lyrics and the overall artictic intent. Which rounds up to a 4 and an album you must listen to at least once in your life, even if you won't come back to it later one. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 965 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 15 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 8 (including this one) Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 11 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2

You and me baby Baby me and you. You and me together Nothing is better You and me baby Baby me and you You and me together That was an error Lalalalalala... Admittedly, "Rolling In The Deep", the track opening this record, is an all-time masterpiece. And of course, Adele's got techinical chops when it comes to vocals, plus that warm deep voice. But almost everything that follows that hit single misses the point of what interesting music and lyrics should be about. The music is often made of bland, unimaginative, generic pop ballads that get on you nerves as they follow one another. This album lasts 48 minutes but it feels like an hour and a half. As for the lyrics... well, what more can I say than what I wrote at the start of this review? It's often quite embarrassing, to be honest. I've also read in one review in here that this album is not part of the latest editions of *1001 Albums...*, that it was dropped. If that's the case, it's a damn shame it's still here on *this* list. And not because I don't like it, but because I signed for this thing thinking there would only be the albums from the last edition. (I only have the names of every album *once* part of that list, not the last edition, so I can't check if *21* is there or not myself). Tally: I've temporarily lost count about the number of albums I've listened to up to now, but I've taken notes and it's there somewhere. And of course *21* will NOT make my final list. I mean, seriously, gals and guys... *This* can't be an "essential" listen, right? Baby, me and you, You and me baby La la la la laaaaaaaaaa....

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 963 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 16 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 8 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 12 Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2

If this album is on this list, why not include Journey or Europe in it while you're at it? I mean... "Don't Stop Believin'" and "The Final Countdown" are catchier than anything on Boston's first LP, aren't they? Oh, no, cheesy dad rock fans might argue, no, no, noooooooo, Boston wrote and performed better songs. Well, did they? Let's break this mothership down track by track : More Than A Feeling: yep, OK, it's got a nice chorus, cool T-Rex-like handclappings and great guitar parts (rhythm and solo) going for it. I can't help feeling that what's good in the song was already a little dated in 1976, but who cares about that now? A convincing opener overall. 4/5 Peace Of Mind : I like the lyrics on this one, something about a dude stuck in a company on a lowlevel position knowing there's more to life than corporate competition (Tom Scholz worked for Polaroid on such a job before his rock dream came true). Yet harmonically speaking the whole thing's a little bland. Only the end is really worth it, with that guitar riff followed by those fifth (or third?) harmony overdubbed solos. But that moment is way too short. 2.5/5 Foreplay / Long Time : Maybe I was too hard when I gave that Genesis album a 2. That baroque, annoying rococo organ solo on the introduction of this song might have required some technical chops, yet it's still *very* embarrassing to listen to today. Not every prog-rock flourish from the 70s has aged gracefully, and here's a good example. What's also a bit daft is that when the song proper starts, it's a little too pedestrian melody and rhythm-wise to justify such delusions of grandeur before. By this point, the albums starts to feel very performative. "Takin' your time" doesn't mean *we* have to get lulled into sleep. The impressive vocal harmonies keep us awake, fortunately, and so do another instance of those T-Rex-like handclaps. Besides, the guitar solo at the end shreds hard, once again. But apart from that... 2, maybe 2.5/5 Rock and Roll: Excruciatingly boring song. As unoriginal as its title. Well, let me correct that: with a similar topic and title, Led Zeppelin knew how to create a visceral atmosphere, at least. Boston just can't: it's all very performative and there's nothing else to it. Fittingly, lyrics are uninteresting clichés, too. A dud. 0/5 Smokin': copy and paste the text up above and replace "rock'n'roll" with "rhythm'n blues" (quoted in the lyrics). 0/5 Hitch a Ride : Some Kinks-like flavours (circa Village Green Society) at the start of this one had raised my hopes a little... but no, false alarm, the same performative stuff occurs again and again after. And then, it becomes even worse than that! While I found them charming on the first side of this record, the T-Rex-like handclappings are now grating my ears as a cheap trick, I want to smash that organ into a thousand pieces (organ solos should be banned by the Geneva convention as weapons of mass destruction) and even the guitar solos make me want to roll my eyes right to the back of my head now. Jesus, this is SO cheesy!!!! 1/5 Something About You: A *very* "power pop" track. Which would be fine if the chords were just way more original. But maybe I'm too worn out by the barrage of bad taste before to care now... 1/5 Let Me Take You Home Tonight: Eagles territory. *yawn* 1/5 I can hear some folks going at me now: "but... but look at the technical wizardry! Scholz actually recorded most of this stuff in his basement!". Yeah, and? If it's to sound like something that was *not* recorded in a basement, why should I care if it was? "Lo-fi" recordings made decades later proved that they could have a charm on their own, far from any big studios artificial shenanigans. Maybe Scholz just missed the opportunity to be creative and fully ahead of the curve here, as good as he was technically speaking. In the end, imitating a big studio sound from a basement is nothing but this, a technical feat. It's not necessarily an *artistic* one. But look guys, the *real* problem here is not the sound, it's the songs: *all of them* on side 2 are just freaking AWFUL. And you *know it*, for chrissake! Some of those five-stars reviews up there even sneakily admit it. Well, why did you give this album five stars, then??? An album is not an E.P. It's not a single either. And a good one might have weaker spots here and there, yet it still needs to be cohesively good overall. I'm amazed at how many "perfect" reviews this record got on this app. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure the nostalgia factor came into play. Here's the thing, however: sometimes oldies are NOT goldies. So, c'mon, guys, get a grip on yourself. I can understand and even respect 3 or 4-star assessments. But 5 is way too high! Maybe it's time for some dad rock fans to let go of their bad faith. Music is subjective and all, I know that. But it's no reason for some to be in denial. At least to this point. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 962 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 16 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 8 Albums from the list I will *not* include in mine (as I think many others are more important): 13 (including this one) Albums I might not be able to judge (some might end up on my final list but it's because I recognize how culturally important they are): 2

Four stars An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. "The Modern Lovers" is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in post Velvet-Underground rock, not to mention proto-punk, here recorded more than five years before the word " punk" reached our collective consciousness. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a third so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: another third Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last third Albums I might not be the best person to judge, but that I will probably include in my final list: 2. That, I remember.           

OK, this one is bookended by two nice tracks, "Roundabout", and "Heart Of The Sunrise", which somehow reminded me of The Mars Volta without the hard rock and post-hardcore influence, obviously. But just like with The Mars Volta, the line between genuinely propulsive or epic moments and technical self-indulgence for the sake of it is sometimes very thin. I can go "wow" and "meh" in the space of a few seconds. A very odd experience. Besides, the rest of the album is *very* uneven, even by the usual seventies prog-rock standards naturally allowing a lot of space for digressions. Half of those tracks actually sound like interludes. And even the ones that don't seem to lead nowhere, except for the next track, which in its turn leads nowhere. I was amazed at the lack of *substance* displayed by this record. I've then read the band put it together in a quick way, with some members doing their stuff on the side before patching things together. Which explains a lot of what I'm feeling here. I remember giving Genesis a 2/5 recently. Should I rate this record with the same number, or a 3? 2.5? Beats me. The cut-and-paste approach slightly works better on this one, because some of the jams are really impressive and lively (and the whole thing is not weighed down by the laughable pretentiousness of Peter Gabriel and co.). Yet I can't help feeling Yes is slightly overrated, even today. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  959 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 18 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 8 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 13 Albums I might not be the best person to judge, but that I *might* include in my final list: 3 (including this one)    

Four stars An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. Beyond the great songs this record can boast about, what's really interesting is how The Band's second effort also works like a subtle concept album about America's Civil War, here seen from the vantage point of ordinary folks. They should have called it *Across The Great Divide*, after the opener. But then again, The Band were never really good to find names, were they? As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. *The Band* is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in sixties and seventies music. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a third so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: another third Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last third Albums I might not be the best person to judge, but that I will probably include in my final list: 3. That, I remember.           

A little less known today than other pivotal acts from the San Francisco Bay Area (Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead and the likes), Quicksilver Messenger Service sure had an idiosyncratc way of performing the sort of psychedelic folk rock those more famous acts were known for. And nowhere was it more idiosyncratic than on this live album, whose first side is devoted to a long trippy jam based on a Bo Diddley song. Good extended jams are always a question of dynamics and textures, and it is true that, in that area at least, QMS pulls it off quite gracefully. Some very short moments of the "How Do You Love" and "Which Do You Love" sections even inadvertently foretell the great experimentations on rhythm and harmonies that Can would only attempt a few years later from their side of the pond. And some of those great moments can also be found on the second side. See the ending of "Maiden Of The Cancer Moon", or the sepulchral background vocal harmonies lending an unmistakably mystical atmosphere to "Calvary"... Is *this* an essential listen, though? I'm inclined to say it isn't. The problem with extended jams and the album format has always been that one only rarely fits the other--at least in the field of rock'n'roll (jazz is another story, since improvisation is central to its core tenets, contrary to other song-based genres). At best, the album sounds like an interesting archive documenting the progress and skills demonstrated by great musicians at some early points of their careers. But it's nothing more than this, really. "Happy Trails" has no story to tell. It only rarely evokes vivid imagery. Those peaks are there--see my first paragraph--but overall, they are too far and between. And the plains between those peaks are a little too samey, with guitar licks that neither break new grounds nor give some decipherable structure to the whole thing. It's not to say that Quicksilver Messenger Service have exactly been *self-indulgent* when they released this live record (a reproach one can throw at many jam albums). Indeed, there's some form of musical generosity to be found there, and one can sense QMS's gigs have been memorable experiences for their audience at the time--see that part on side one where the audience clap their hands in a way that feels as if they are participating in the performance itself, and not merely enjoying it as outsiders. And yet, today, more than 50 years later, the aesthetics displayed here are just a little too quaint given everything that has since transpired. In other words, the offerings we have here are way too obscure in their true intents to make any sort of sense. Maybe you needed to be there to understand what this thing was all about. Which generally marks the line between "interesting" and "essential". After all, 1969 was a year of many transitions. Prog-rock and krautrock woud soon take free-form experimentation to more promising levels. And decades later, post-rock would show how electric guitars can convey newfound mystical mindsets to its audiences. But you can't blame QSM for trying at least. "Happy Trails" is maybe a lost opportunity in rock history. If more musicians had followed those strange trails winding their way between between early r'n'r and psychedelia, maybe genres in the seventies and beyond would have sounded a little different than they actually did. But no one really ventured there. Those trails are long gone. All that remains now is thickets of wild weeds, dry grass and dust bowls... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 957 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 19 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 8 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 14 (including this one) Albums I might not be the best person to judge, but that I *might* include in my final list: 3.

Four stars and half An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own two decades after it was released. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. *Is This It* is just a timeless gem aimed at anyone who's into rock at large. Go and listen to this record a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 956 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 20 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 8 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 14 Albums I might not be the best person to judge, but that I *might* include in my final list: 3.

Five stars. An all-time classic, and a personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. Àgaetis Byrjun is just a timeless gem aimed at anyone who's into Sigur Rós or even post rock at large. Go and listen to this record a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 955 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 21 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 8 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 14 Albums I might not be the best person to judge, but that I *might* include in my final list: 3.

Hey ! I got this CD at home. It's nice somehow, probably one of Aerosmith's best albums. It's got the original version of "Rock This Way" in it. The thing is, should Aerosmith be included in a list of 1001 essential albums to listen to? No. And this here is why I won't say anything further about this record. Please, Dimery and associates, check your priorities a little. You need room for genuinely great or moving or grounsbreaking albums. You can't waste it like this. Number of albums left to review or listen to : more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here. Number of essential listens: more than a third so far. Number of albums I *might* include as essential listens: a quarter so far. Number of albums I *won't* consider as essential listen: more than a third so far (including this one)

Nice. Obviously *Pulp Fiction* has done a great job getting audiences acquainted with the 70s soul gem that gives this album its title. And I can't say the rest of the record was an unpleasant listen (half of those tracks are nicely done, there's no arguing about that). On the other hand, I'm a bit skeptical whether this album as a whole can be classified as an "essential listen", especially compared with masterworks from Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding or Stevie Wonder. Maybe this was a bad day for me to dive into a soul album, but frankly, I'm not sure what separates those tracks from Barry White stuff sometimes (apart from their diametrically opposed voices, that goes without saying). I leave this as a question mark here. Maybe with a little more time on my hands, I'll get more attuned to the subtleties of this album, who knows? Number of essential listens : more than a third so far, I've temporarily lost count here... Albums I *might* include in my final list: a quarter so far (including this one) Albums I certainly won't include in my final list: more than a third so far.

Four stars An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. The only grudge I have against this album is that it's too long compared to other early Wu-Tang solo outputs such as Genius/GZA's *Liquid Swords* or Method Man's *Tical*, which are straight to the point and offer a more rewarding experience on the whole. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. *Only Built For Cuban Linx* is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in rap and hip hop. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 952 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 22 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 12 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 15

FIVE STARS An all-time classic As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 951 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 23 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 12 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 15

Three stars, maybe? Four stars ? A landmark album for many but I'm not sure I'm totally sold on this one. I'm quite a fan of Nick Cave's middle period, and I remember that everyone was struck by this delicate record at the time it came out. But I think Cave has since "refined" his game when it comes to melancholic songs or performances on the piano. For the first, listen to *No More Shall We Part* (a longer and more meandering record, but far more satisfying overall). Or listen to the more recent *Skeleton Trees* and *Ghosteen*. And if you want to enjoy Cave as a piano performer, you can always spin that last solo live album of his. *The Boatman's Call* is still a nice record, though, with some very memorable tracks here and there ("Into My Arms" is a small gem, for instance). And it's well-produced and well-performed, of course. But I can't help feeling that the whole thing is a little too tame and rigid, and that not much is happening in a large chunk of these songs. Maybe this bareness is what draws people to the album (both Cave's admirers and more casual fans). It's just that, in my opinion, Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds are always better when they're using "treatrical" tricks to explore emotional moods. Those moods can be anger, lust, fear or infinite grief, it doesn't matter. What matters is that Cave and his pals have enough space to let their histrionic instincts guide them through such emotions. *The Boatman's Call* doesn't use those theatrical tricks at all, save for a few rare exceptions. It's more like watching Cave working those songs at his desk. A gorgeous desk, with all sorts of nice objects on it. But a desk nonetheless. Albums that will end up on my list of favorites: more than a third so far, I've temporarily lost count here. Album that I *might* include on my list: approximately a quarter (including this one) Album I won't include on my list: less than a quarter so far.

Three stars, maybe? A landmark album for many but I'm not sure I'm sold on this one. It's sure impressive that Todd Rundgren played almost all the instruments on this album. And there are some choice cuts in it, from "I Saw The Light" to "Wolfmann Jack", not to mention the atmospheric waltz "The Night The Carousel Burned Down" or the awfully good power pop hit "Couldn't I Just Tell You"--here foretelling many later great tracks of a genre that was still in its infancy in 1972 (say hi to The Cars, Weezer and The Posies from me, please). The thing is, those cuts are here mixed with many tracks that often border on muzak or elevator music. And when I say "many", I really mean it, since it's a double LP. Of course, I *do* realize that double albums such as these should be unafraid to explore stylistic u-turns and take risks of some kind to justify their sheer length. But can the human mind stand *so many* meandering laneways that rarely have a proper destination point here? And this in *one single take*, to boot. Case in point: "I Went To The Mirror". After a long pointless dirge, the track starts to get interesting with a bluesy Led-Zeppelin-like riff that gets things a little more animated and lively. But almost immediately, the song fades out, just as we were getting to something. This feeling of an unfinished business pertains to many other parts of this double album. And even when things get a little more interesting, like in the track that follows, "Black Maria", one often can't refrain from comparing the proceedings to other staple acts from the sixties and seventies. Yes, Todd Rundgren can remind you of the Beatles, Queen, Led Zeppelin or even the Rolling Stones (see also the nice closer "Slut"). But can he be as memorable, charming and evocative as the Fab Four? Can he be as deliriously histrionic and "over the top" as Queen? Can he rock as hard as Jagger and Richards, or Plant, Page, Bonham and Jones? No, he can't, and this for all the examples we've just quoted. As a result, he's stuck in a sort of limbo: he's an excellent and imaginative musician, but he's not a perfect songwriter or performer (his voice is a bit dull at times). And as such, he's doomed to stand below all those rock legends we've just mentioned. Conversely, he's not leftfield or abrasive enough to offer something that would counter this overall "mixed bag" narrative either. He sure tries to be more daring sonically speaking in later tracks such as "Little Red Lights". But it's too little and too late, especially at this point of the second record... Some fans might argue that the chords change are often off-kilter or unexpected. Maybe, but it's the same question as the one we've asked before, is it not? Are those chord changes leading somewhere? Nope, they definitely aren't. Take "Torch Song", for instance. Sure, it's nice and delicate, and it offers thoughtful instrumentation and arrangements. But basically, it's just another interlude. The emotions it tries to convey at first do not feel earned at the end, if only because the latter comes too soon, once again. To put it in a nutshell, I feel like this is a record where technical prowess doesn't always lead to truly *compelling* songwriting. And just like the flowery wallpaper aesthetics of its cover, most of the sounds and melodies displayed in *Something/Anything* appear slightly quaint today, if not downright cheesy sometimes. So I can understand listening to this album once because of its cultural importance, and overall it's been an interesting listen, if not always a pleasant one. But I'm not sure I ever want to play that album again now that I've listened to it. Life's too short to waste it on stuff that doesn't convey genuine emotions to you. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 949 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 23 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 14 (including this one?) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 15

Of the three albums released by Nick Drake during his all-too-short lifetime, this slightly quaint exercise is the one that probably veers a little too close to a novelty performance. Drake himself pointed this out. But that doesn't mean this record should be ignored, given how many great tracks with luscious arrangements make the bulk of it, from "Northern Sky" to "Hazey Jane II" or "One Of These Things First". Once you're owning *Five Leaves Left* and *Pink Moon*, it's hard to resist *Bryter Layter*, if only from a completist perspective. Nick Drake was gone too soon, everyone who once got interested in him knows that. Even though it was written and played in the early seventies, his music is timeless, and it will be for many other decades to come... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 948 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 24 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 14. Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 15

Here's the thing: during the early naughts, a bunch of British critics on the lookout for the next Mercury Rev gave raving reviews on this album made by an American alt-country/indie-rock act from Nashville, leaving other critics from the other side of the pond a little nonplussed as to what their honorable colleagues from the U.K. really saw in that band. Here's what one of those more skeptical American critics wrote at the time ; "*Nixon* serves as a reminder that expertly executed stylistic hybrids and ironic juxtapositions-- great though they may be-- don't replace memorable songwriting. Sure, it's a novel concept, but while some of us may still be patient enough to "get it" five albums into the band's career, Wagner's talent and unique vision should demand a more challenging album." This somewhat skeptical reception, here taken from a Pitchfork review, perfectly trancribes my own feelings about *Nixon*. In spite of the lush arrangements drawing on Philly soul, nothing much special happens in terms of melody, discernable intensities or sense of dynamics in the course of this long record. When Kurt Wagner goes into that strange falsetto mode, conveniently buried in the mix, it just feels cringeworthy instead of fragile or graceful or charming. The whole thing sounds so... remote, like generic background music droning in some hipsters'café. Even "Up With People", the supposed centerpiece of the album, would actually be a very minor cut in most of the records from the nineties and early naughts that made Dimery's list. If only for this, I'm also deeply confused at what some people really see in *Nixon*, just like most American critics at the time. Maybe it's that incredible artwork setting them into some sort of mood beforehand. Such cover is indeed incredible, and it made me want to love this record so much. Except that I didn't... Should I continue here? Does this foppish thing deserve so many words to describe it ? Some people think it does, apparently. Pitchfork made amends later on for instance, probably still under the lasting influence of those slightly deluded British critics we've mentioned earlier. Just in case that first honest reviewer of theirs might have missed out on something truly earth-shattering, they called a true fan to write a second review about the album's reissue. And here's what this new reviewer wrote in passing: "Even as a fan, I understand the ways in which Lambchop can seem standoffish and cold." It seems that second reviewer was as honest as the first at least. However, the *real* problem with Lambchop might not be about *temperature* or so-called "sophistication". I actually don't feel as if Lambchop are looking down upon us poor mortals. I feel like they're looking at nowhere in particular, that their stare are totally blank. This is not shoegaze here. This is *nothinggaze*. And this empty feeling can even be explained in purely *musical* terms. To this listener, the real problem is indeed that Kurt Wagner never tried hard to write proper hooks, or choruses, or even simple endearing moments, anything substantial that could make you relate to the proceedings. It seems that what *Nixon* is really all about is style. And style is sometimes not conducive to good writing. So, is this an album you must *absolutely* listen to? Not to me. Lambchop are excellent musicians and arrangers, no doubt about that. But the spark is missing here--that sort of spark you can find in acts that are not so far away from the territory supposedly explored here: stuff like Deerhunter, Vic Chesnutt or even Kevin Morby. In all those examples, you can often find two pivotal ingredients that seal the deal for most listeners of likewise genres: memorable melodies and recognizable emotions. And sadly, *Nixon* only very rarely uses those two pivotal ingredients. Of course, in a list a 5001 albums instead of 1001, such album would be noteworthy, if only for its overall stylistic intent (and artwork). But fans got to understand *some* acquired tastes are often harder to acquire than others... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 947 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 24 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 14. Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 16

I spent my last review mentioning Pitchfork, and now here comes their critical darling Solange. Once again, I can't quite picture what the fuss with this laidback modern r'n'b album is all about, at least musically speaking. It's not that the music is bad: some arrangements are subtle and pleasantly intricate. And in a way, I can get *why* the whole aesthetics of this record are quite subdued throughout its course (more on that later). It's just that those aesthetics are a little too unobtrusive for my tastes. *A Seat At The Table* is no trip hop, that's for sure--it's not mesmerizing or repetitive enough. I wonder how it would have sounded if it had included more influences like that... I guess the whole idea behind this album was that the music should fit with the confessional atmosphere of the vocals while also retaining an alurring canvas on which Solange can brush very socially-conscious lyrics. So what we have here is *smooth* protest music, with very idiosyncratic ways to cover the grounds on which African-Americans view where they come from and who they are today. But even if it's *smooth*, it's protest music nonetheless. Which means that the lyrics are worth it, no doubt about that. And so is Solange's mellifluous performance, of course (I'm less convinced by the guest vocals, but they're a minor presence anyway). Some very clear emotions seep through such a performance, Solange perfectly understanding how to convey her views in a manner that's quite diginified and graceful. As Old Bob said, the times, they are-a changing, they did change in the past, and they are changing now. Such bridges between past and present are the ones Solange wants to build here. So, yes, *A Seat At The Table* is a record with that sort of ambition, and it should be commended as such. But to return to the music, I'd be lying if I said nothing rubs me the wrong way in it. On the paper, I still think the intent is marvellous. But I'm not so sure about the execution, though. Oddly enough, I wish Solange had taken a page from her elder (and more famous) sister's book when it comes to hooks and choruses. I don't mean she should necessarily have gone to the sort of pop extremes Beyonce Knowles is known for. Yet I feel like some middle ground would have made a stronger impression on me, and probably on many other listeners too, beyond music critic circles. In the meantime, I will leave this album the benefit of the doubt with a three-star grading, just because the lyrical contents are really personal AND interesting AND relevant when it comes to current topics. Maybe I just need more time to understand its music. This situation reminds me of Beyonce's *Lemonade*, actually, another critics' choice that left me a little nonplussed during the last decade... Yet even if I'm nonplussed, I get the picture somehow. After its heyday in the nineties and the naughts, "modern" r'n'b seems to go through an existential crisis of some kind, and as a result, It would be tempting to apply the prefix "post-" to it while listening to *Lemonade*, *A Seat At The Table*, or records such as Frank Ocean's *Blonde*, for instance. The only problem for me here is that such prefix wouldn't fully explain why artists and producers of such ilk are *also* having quite a hard time penning a melody that's memorable. Concept isn't everything in music. If it was, records would be... books. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 946 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 24 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 15 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 16

FIVE STARS An all-time classic. This record encapsulates a moment that's just simply magical. Among other things, Keith Jarrett is known for his piano improvisations drifting between jazz and classical, and this one here is a keeper that will entrance you with its melodies and intense ostinatos. Some experts will probably tell you this is *not* Jarrett's best live album, yet maybe it's just snobbery on their part. This thing here is definitely one of the best entry points into his universe (one I wish I had taken the time to know a little better--maybe in the years to come, who knows?). As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 945 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 25 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 15 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me):

Four stars and a half An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own years after it was released. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. Halcyon Digest is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in indie-rock. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 944 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 26 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 15 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 16

Three and a half stars. I've checked out Dimery's list. *Catch A Fire* and *Exodus* are on it. But not *Burnin'*. How can *Burnin'* NOT be on that list??? Obviously, *Natty Dread* is a likely contender for the fourth slot in the list of the best Bob Marley albums ever. But does that make it an *essential* listen for general audiences who would want to know more about Bob and his Wailers? I'm not so sure. Everybody obviously mentions that original version of *No Woman, No Cry*, and how clunky it sounds compared to that legendary live rendition. That being said, opener "Lively Up Yourself", along with "Them Belly Full", "Rebel Music" and "Natty Dread" are choice cuts. The late entrance of the horns section in the first of these tracks is incredibly effective, transcending the whole piece into another level, one that somehow foretells the epic mysticism of *Exodus*. "Them Belly Full" is a hymn as topical (tropical?) as it is enticing to the ear. And the instrumentation on "Rebel Music" is smart and intricate, guitar licks, harmonica and organ adding layers to a six-minute lush experience that seem to last half as much. The end of the record is notoriously weaker, though, except "Revolution", maybe--nice high-pitched vocals from Marley at the very end, quite uncharacteristic from him. But apart from those sorts of moments, I'm still of two minds about the whole thing. Maybe Jah should teach me to let it go on that listing thing, about what's supposedly essential or not. Mystical music doesn't work like that, does it? So, I'm gonna light up a spliff, probably add this record to my small personal reggae collection, and say that in the end, *everything's gonna be alright*... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 943 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 26 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 16 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 16

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 942 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 27 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 16 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 16

I have nothing against this particular David Holmes album. It's decent big beat / electronica overall. But as I've already said elsewhere, I have Dimery's full list, and I'm quite infuriated by his (and his contributors') shorsightedness when it comes to many other important genres, with glaring ommissions in them. Just look at jazz, for instance. No "Mingus, Ah, Um", no "Blue Train" or "Giant Steps" for Coltrane, no Shabaka Hutchings album from one of his many projects, not to mention some very important Miles Davis records missing here and there. And I'm mostly talking about legendary names here, not even *true* obscure stuff. So a decent but minor big beat album compared to those absent records doesn't weigh much in terms of cultural importance. Which is *why* I can't include it on my own list. Sometimes it's whole genres that are criminally overlooked. Apart from two releases by Slint and Sigur Rós, "post-rock" albums are nowhere to be seen. Where are those all-time masterpieces by Mogwai, Tortoise, Godspeed You! Black Emperor or A Silver Mount Zion? Seriously, guys, "trippy" music didn't stop with the sixties or the seventies. Those later masterpieces should be part of the so-called "canon", more than stuff by Quicksilver Messenger Service, for example. Such post-rock records have been here for a long time now, even for a few decades for some of them, and new generations are going back to those records as we speak. Who's rediscovering "Happy Trails" today, apart us music nerds through this app? Nobody. Likewise, post-hardcore, and emo are probably niche genres, but they should have some decent representatives in the list. And the same goes with the admittedly quite recent post-punk revival in the UK. "Hookworms" is only a very minor example of that recent revival selected by Dimery and co, and the problem is that it won't be remembered the way Idles, Fontaines D.C., Shame, Squid, Yard Act, black midi or Black Country New Road are going to be for sure. And we should also cross the pond and mention the outrageous absence of many current key American artists of all stripes and styles, from Billie Eilish to Big Thief, from Low to Weyes Blood, from Sharon Van Etten to Parquet Courts, or from Turnstile to Women / Vietcong / Preoccupations. Dimery and friends are sure ticking a few important boxes culturally speaking with records by Kanye West, Kendrick Lamar, Lana Del Rey and Fiona Apple. But it's not nearly enough. And it's still very "mainstream". Make room for more important stuff now. Please... Album left to review of just listen to: more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here. Essential listens I'll keep on my list: Half so far. Albums I *might* include: a quarter. Albums I consider not essential at all: a quarter, including this one.

Four stars An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. Nebraska is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in Bruce Springsteen before he blew everything with that awful, generally cheesy-sounding *Born In The USA* album. Number of records left to review or just listen to: 939 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 28 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 17 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 17

Four stars An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. *Tidal* is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in Fiona Apple. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a third so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

FIVE STARS This is exactly the sort of stuff I signed for. Discovering great stuff I had never hear or even heard of before. Because even if you haven't heard anything about John Grant before, chances are that his first solo album is that type of record that is bound to stay with you when you've finished listening to it--granted that the artist ticks all those proverbial idiosyncratic boxes of yours. And John Grant does for this writer here. Already a great piano player blessed with a tenor voice that does wonders throughout this first album, Grant is also an arresting songwriter who has quite a precise story to tell here, transcending his assets as a musician and delivering a gem that didn't receive enough praise at the time of its release. The former leader of the Czars (who took a four-year break from music after the demise of his band) is indeed *not* your usual seventies-type folk-rock balladeer, even though he mostly draws on this codified tradition. And this very creative paradox is only one among many. A gay man raised in a conservative home in Michigan and Colorado, Grant had certainly gone through hard times when *Queen Of Demmark* was released in 2010: alcoholism, childhood trauma, troubles to deal with his sexual orientation, and most of all, a difficult separation with an anonymous lover. So the bulk of *Queen Of Denmark* is a break-up album, sure, but one that comes with *huge* twists when compared with other examples in this genre. And the biggest twist is that the self-deprecating Grant often comes off as a very personal lyricist here, either penning hilarious one-liners or dropping mordant observations about himself or his characters. Rarely have break-up albums been this lively. Part-Stephen Merritt, part-Gene Clark, part-Elton John, part-Nick Cave and part-Nick Drake, John's vocabulary can only be his nonetheless, rendering those tentative comparisons moot once you delve further into his art. On the lighter side of things, this knack for off-kilter, yet *killer* words allowed him to record instant hits such as the novelty parody "On A Silver Platter" or "Sigourney Weaver"--a track fooling around with the song narrator's identification to female Hollywood figures such as Weaver's Ellen Ripley or Winona Ryder, helping him deal with his feelings of being an outcast for eternity. Grant's talent is even more impressive on devastating tracks such as "JC Hates Faggots", where a gay man roasts his father's toxic and traumatic influence on him. And the harshness of the title-track, concluding this record, is just plain unforgettable. Grant sure passes off as a piece of work on this one. But those flaws are also what allow him to write great songs. And they absolve him of unfair accusations of cynicism (some reviewers at the time certainly *didn't* get the themes of the album at all). This particular talent as a lyricist wouldn't be as effective as it is if Grant had not also taken painstaking care in creating a musical canvas that is equally luminous and heartbreaking thoughout the record. The piano riff and chorus of "Marz", as deceptively simple as they sound, are instantly catchy. Grant often modulates harmonies from minor to major modes and back, weaving heratwrenching, bittersweet atmospheres. Apart from piano and guitars, some weird yet often very melodic synth lines and arrangements also bring a color at key moments of many songs, bringing a welcome respite from the overall intensity displayed in some of those tracks. Kudos for the Midlake band for serving as a backing band for Grant and helping him shape those awesome songs--legend has it that without Midlake, Grant wouldn't have returned to music, and we can all be thankful to them for being so supportive. After John Grant released *The Queen Of Denmark*, the artist moved back to Europe (where he had lived before), was diagnosed HIV-positive, ended up in Iceland, settled with a new guy there, and, more importantly for us as listeners, dabbled into some even *weirdest* music languages, some sort of synth pop with a bend for high concepts and elaborate layerings (some enlightening, others a little too obscure for this writer maybe--interestingly, this subsequent high-brow-yet-campy direction is foretold in the bonus tracks in some editions of *The Queen of Denmark*, less remarkable, but still a good fun). It seems that as bizarre and eccentric those albums are, John looks like a happy middle-aged man now. We can all be happy for him. And no matter what happens now or next, he's still left us an incredible first album. This album stemmed from clear pain, no doubt about that. But the pleasure it can still give you today makes such pain 100% worthwhile now.  Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

FIVE STARS One of the coolest albums ever made in the long history of rock. Revisiting it today was a pleasure I didn't *fully* expect, since I've probably listened to it a thousand times already. But it's still working, after all these years. At first, the thin lo-fi sound caught me off-guard, after so many glossy, so called "well-produced" records on the list. But quickly, I remembered why I love this record (and this band) so much. It's smart, melodic, rough, lively, cute, wry, funny, sad, bittersweet, nonsensical, dumb and bright all at the same time. "Summer Babe", " In The Mouth A Desert", "Loretta's Scars", and "Here" are instant indie classic. Funny how, now that I know music history a little better, I can spot a few winks towards other legendary rock bands from the past. "Conduit For Sale!" draws on the Velvet's "The Murder Mystery" for instance, as someone rightly stated here in this group. But those influences don't take away Pavement's own very specific talent. Slacker genius at its best here. Harder to pull off than most people think... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter But who caaaaaaares... even those rejects are somehow redeemed by Pavement's take on "success". In the end, what we all are is being like lame stand-up comedians on the stage of life, both grotesque and sublime. See the legendary opening lines of "here": "I was dressed for success / but success it never comes / And I'm the only one who laughs / at your jokes when they are so bad / And the jokes are always bad / But they're not as bad as this / Come join me in the sun..." and so on... Behind that thin layer of cynicism and the absurd, Pavement are most of all romantics, in the tradition of the Kinks and, once again, The Velvet Underground. So they deserve to be "here" with them.

I can't say that I was familiar with Miriam Makeba before I used this app. I might grumble about Dimery and co.'s choices sometimes, but we can still be grateful for most of them, especially when they allow you to discover great or important arists, as Makeba surely is. This album should probably be counted as an essential listen if only for two tracks-"The Click Song" and "Mbube", sort of a preliminary sketch of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight", here in one of its best versions. That being said, now that I've browsed though Makeba's impressive list of releases (and it will take some time for me to find my way around it), it also seems that this first international solo release by the South-African singer might not be the best entry point into that sweeping discography of hers. Sure, *Miriam Makeba* probably sounds more "authentic" than some of "Mama Africa"'s subsequent albums recorded and produced in the US... But once you've listened to *Pata Pata*, for instance, it's hard to dismiss that later (and admittedly more famous) record. And not only because of its killer title, one that I *did* know before, actually--who can forget that sweet and oh-so-catchy melody?--indeed, "Ring Bell, Ring Bell" and "West Wind" are absolute gems too, and the rest is great, making *Pata Pata* another essential purchase. Makeba's performance on "West Wind" is even reaching levels of emotion that are worthy of Nina Simone herself. And don't get me started on that incredible string arrangement in the background... So if *Miriam Makeba* is an essential listen, you might also need to add *Pata Pata* to the list. That other album even has a new version of "The Click Song" (even though that new version is not nearly as good as the original here). And then, how many other great tracks has Makeba recorded during her long career? Wish I could listen to everything in a split-second. Music *is* a rabbit hole, is it not? Number of records left to review or just listen to: 935 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 31 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 18 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 17

Well, sometimes you need to give in. Most chord successions are lame and hackneyed, so are those 5th harmony guitar solos, and the aggressive factor have since been neutered by tons of better metal or hardcore metal releases since the early eighties. But I guess that, well, this album needs to be included in a list of 1001 essential albums to listen to, even once in your life, if only for its "cultural" importance. Legions of metalheads have banged their skulls to this. "Run To The Hill" is an instant hit, so is the title track, "Children Of The Damned" is not so bad, and "Hallowed Be Thy Name" is an epic closer. Sure, the whole thing sounds quite ridiculous. But sometimes, life is. You can't blame Iron Maiden fans for this. This album certainly had something idiosyncratic and new to deliver to that audience at the time. Guess that, for once, you gotta respect that sort of off-kilter commercial success. I've read here that there's another Iron Maiden album on the list. I'll listen to it too when the time comes. But unless it's *way* different (and I already know it won't be, given who we're talking about here), I probably won't add it to my list. Overlong jokes are rarely good, right? You won't find me including more albums Number of records left to review or just listen to: 934 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 32 (including this one, begrudgingly, I guess) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 18 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 17

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of records left to review or just listen to: 933 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 33 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 18 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 17

Sorry, I tried. I really, really tried. But Bad Company does nothing for me, and this album as a whole did not even interest me enough to make me want to write a full-blown review. It's not even that it's bad (sometimes it's interesting to explain *why* you think a record is not for you). It's just that, apart from very, very rare highlights here and there, the music on "Bad Company" is neither groundbreaking nor particularly well written. Lyrics are fine, with some striking one-liners here and there. Yet most of the compositions are just too linear and predictable to seal the deal for me. They simply don't make me feel anything. I always try to keep an open mind, but clearly, I don't see what the fuss is all about here. What we have is more than competent musicianship, of course, even talent. But if you want to select a list of 1001 albums you should absolutely listen to, there are probably twice as many albums worthier of your time out there. Life's too short to waste it on stuff you consider bland. My loss, maybe. But that's the way it is for me. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

FIVE (black) STARS An all-time classic, given *who* it was from, *when* it was given to us, and *how* Bowie managed to here create a last album with very topical, "à propos" lines, incredibly dark and intricate jazzy or experimental arrangements serving a deeply mysterious yet also quite emotional songwriting overall. A treat from start to finish. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Wow. How. Interesting. 80s synth pop with very weird yet deeply topical lyrics. And some deftly executed experimental moments that make this record worthwhile musicaly speaking, too. Someone in this group pointed out with a snarl how the first track could have been used for Trump's campaign (I had not realized this song was the one covered by LCD Soundsystem, too). What more can i say? And what a great, sardonic artwork, to boot. I thought only Devo could pull off weird stuff like this. I was wrong. Thanks Dimery and co. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Three stars and a half An all-time classic for many A landmark album for many but I'm not sure I'm totally sold on this one. We can all be grateful that Carole King, a prolific writer for other artists before *Tapestry* came out, took this opportunity to write this album for herself. But would this record have been so praised or heavily promoted at the time if someone else, unknown to the "business", had released it instead ? Some sneaking suspicion in me says no. It's not that this album is lacking in terms of highlights, tough. "It's Too Late" (and its groovy guitar riff), "You've Got A Friend", "Beautiful" and the title track are killer songs, craftily arranged and recorded. The stereo effects on this album are well tought-out, for instance, like that glockenspiel chiming on the chorus of "It's Too Late", probably one of the first use of the instrument in the rock and pop idiom. And it's also quite moving to hear King performing in a far more subdued manner that old hit she once gave to Aretha Franklin, "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman". But truth be told, most of the other songs feel just a little too generic 50 years later, with very predictable parts involving linear pop progression that could even border on muzak for today's ears. Admittedly, the line is very thin, and historical contextualization might help you hear those songs with more forgiving ears. Not every listener in 2022 is able to get the "feel" of those sorts of dated canvases. Carole King is an admirable weaver, no doubt about that. It's just that those old works of hers might just look a little quaint overall today. Even if the charm is still there if you pay attention to the details. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

I'm not a *huge* fan of this band, but *Let It Be* is the perfect midway point in their story, between their early hardcore punk shenanigans and their more pop-sounding rockers (without too much cheese here). And like someone else pointed out in the group, a song like Androgynous has lyrics that are still on point decades later (not to mention its atmosphere). A great example of what sorts of wonders adolescent angst can do in music. I would also add the punk band... Adolescents to that category, with their eponymous album. That one is *criminally* overlooked in this list (and many other ones like that !)... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Four stars An all-time classic, and an album which still holds its own many years after it was released. As is usually the case with those classic albums, I won't write a full-blown review here given that others have already written wonderful stuff about them and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. Mr. Tambourine Man is just a timeless gem for anyone who has even a remote interest in The Byrds. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

FIVE STARS An all-time classic and a personal favorite of mine. This is the seminal album of the "Jimmy Page of the sampler". Put your earbuds on and play this wonder as you're walking or driving through a big city at night. Urban heaven. Sublime and enticing. A feeling of eternity. It's *this* good. As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

I'm not inclined to say a band or an artist is "overrated", music obviously being an objective thing, but oh boy am I tempted to say that Primal Scream fits into such a category. I could personally tolerate the inclusion of *Screamadelica* in a list of so-called "mandatory listens, mostly because this particular album has something to say about the time and place it was realeased, with those UK club breakbeats and whatnot. But c'mon, let's be serious here for one second, fellas: even for that "historical" album, the writing is subpar at best, not to say totally lazy. Worse; some "songs' are just glorified instrumentals with a few vocal snippets here and there--and you'd have to take a shitload of MDMA to hear something substantial or even just fun in those tracks, something that's won't be there at all when you use more sober ears. What about this particular album then? Well, just like many other Primal Scream albums it just drones on in the background, a mixed bag with a few hooks here and there, but without any cohesion at all, and with moments of intensity that are too far and between. As usual, the main influence when it comes to the melodic lines come from the Rolling Stones, at least if you pay some attention. But it's a somewhat sanitized version of the Stones, mixed with the current trends of that year. Which amounts to say that in the end, there's not much to be found there in term of substance. At least Jagger, Richards and their pals knew a thing or two about how they could make a song feel "dirty"--in all senses of the word. Whereras in here, it's just a pale imitation, barely veiled by the supposed "high value" of its production shenanigans. The result is just boring to these particular set of ears here. And reading a lot of the other reviews in here, to many other ones as well... Number of records left to review or just listen to: 921 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 42 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 19 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 19 (including this one)

Three stars and a half ? Four stars ? The Auteurs is a band I've only been vaguely aware of before, and this app gave me the opportunity to delve further into that first record of theirs, *New Wave*. I'm not sure I'm totally sold about it being an *essential* listen, but it's been a pleasant ride nonetheless. Like many other reviewers in here, I think it has a strong start ("Show Girls", that instantly catchy "Bailed Out", and "American Guitars") and a nice end line, between "Early Years" and "Home Again" (which sounds a little like Elvis Costello's "Complicated Shadows", oddly enough). Maybe the middle of the album is too much of a notch under those particular songs, generally speaking. Well, except for that cello-enhanced "How Could I Be Wrong" (in comparison, a track such as "Don't Trust the Stars" is a little too linear and *middle-of-the-road* rock/britpop, for instance). But I'm all too aware those sorts of songs often grow on you as you keep on listening to them, so I'll give those somewhat less striking cuts the benefit of the doubt. I could actually see myself returning to this album, depending on my mood. I also feel like the lyrics make it worth it too--I spotted some very interesting and/or funny lines about quite picturesque scenes, but I have to admit I didn't pay a lot of attention to them this time. Speaking of other people's comments, I was quite intrigued by the fact that a few reviewers heard a little bit of Arctic Monkeys in The Auteurs' sound. I would have never thought of that by myself. But I have to admit that for certain subtle moments, the comparison made more than a little sense... Luke Haines seems to have a knack for snarls delivered in a laidback fashion. He might not exactly be a Alex Turner, but this particular arrow is maybe not so far off the mark, come to think of it... As a consequence, this may have a bearing on my own geeky list of 1001 albums. When the time comes for this app to suggest a minor Arctic Monkey album, as it will probably do, (say "Humbug" or "Suck It And See"), I might be inclined to just replace it with this "New Wave" here (and so have a broader scope on British pop/rock--and more importantly, leave some room for other sorts of records). That list won't be infinite. You can't have them all, can you? Number of records left to review or just listen to: 920 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 42 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 20 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 19

Three stars, maybe? The swan song of Big Band Jazz and an all-time classic for many (plus, what an album cover!). Obviously, this is a landmark record for many but I'm not sure I'm sold on this one. Besides, there are so many *huge* gaps when it comes to jazz in Dimery's list that I think you'd first need to fill those gaps with all the wonderful albums in the genre that are still missing in the list, and then see if there's room left for "The Atomic Mr Basie". And I don't even think I'm an expert in jazz (it's just that all the important masterpieces from the post-bop period of the sixties *need* to be included, period). So, to put it in a nutshell, I can understand listening to *The Atomic Mr. Basie* once because of its cultural importance, and overall it's been an interesting or fun listen, if not a pleasant one. But I'm not sure I ever want to play that album again now I've listened to it once. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Three stars ? Three stars and a half maybe ? As someone wrote elsewhere in this group, the whole project seems *a little* too calculated by sound masterminds trying to profit from the nineties' indie explosion to be considered as a *spontaneously* relevant masterpiece. Producer and band member Butch Vig, of *Nevermind* fame, certainly knew the state of the music business at that particular moment of history. Listening to the album, you can even hear the grind of the charts and graphs in his mind as he and his colleagues try to please very different sections of the audience all at the same time (from trip hop enthusiasts to "alt-rock" explorers, from (n)eurodance and/or UK clubs night owls to dad-rock interlopers--and so on, just take your pick...). Truth be told, if a "corporate grunge" band ever existed, Garbage is probably the one. Too bad their "something for everyone" selling points did not always exactly reach their intended goals, some of them even landing quite flat on the ear today (see "As Heaven Is Wide" or "Not My Idea"). That being said, *other* parts of this first album are still holding out quite well 25+ years later, as dated as the production shenanigans are on the more minor cuts. Yes, sure, even back then you could sense that not everything in this catalogue of angst-ridden-yet-glossy rockers would age gracefully, but in spite of those shortcomings, the songwriting behind a lot of those tracks still redeems a large chunk of the record's flaws when it comes to its sound and overall direction. Many melodies are catchy, evocative and/or instantly memorable, often in a good way. Take "Vow" 's layers of guitar riffs, for example (some of them seemingly recorded backwards): not only are they terrifically efficient earworms, both intense and expansive, but they also prove that Garbage's studio wizardry could lead to truly compelling moments when channelled properly. Likewise, it's not difficult to gather why dancefloor-friendly tracks such as "Queer", "Only Happy When It Rains" or "Stupid Girl" had become such huge hits in the months that followed the release of this record. As calculated as those moves are, there's still an urgency in those songs that make them a worthwhile listen. And it's not as if this record didn't have its lot of darker or less obvious corners to explore, though. Trip hop arrangements, for instance, are conveying a welcome dark atmosphere to the proceedings from time to time ("A Stroke Of Luck", "Milk" ), one that's still working in 2022. As for Shirley Manson, she often has a commanding presence, from "Supervixen"'s stop-and-go dynamics to a "Fix Me Now" that's aiming for the skies and beyond, at least vocally speaking. In the forefront of those Alternative / Industrial Pop landscapes, she brings a goth-yet-melodic spark that fuels the necessary fire to make the whole thing satisfying, at least on an emotional level. Think Siouxsie with a lower voice and a knack for seductive or dangerously sensual choruses. I guess "alternative rock" fans can still thank Vig and his weathered American pals for putting their younger Scottish protégée into the spotlight here. Without this album (and band), chances are that Manson would never have reached this type of instant fame--and frankly, it would have been a shame *not* to get acquainted with her talent as a singer... On a sidenote: check out the bonus tracks recorded during that early stage of the band's career. Some of them are even better than certain songs on the album--replace the three or four clunkers from the original record with cuts like "Subhuman", "Sleep" and "#1 Crush" and maybe you would have had a 4 or 4.5-star album instead. Never got why those great tracks had been discarded in favor of less compelling ones. But maybe this poor choice has something to do with all those charts and graphs in Butch Vig's mind. Whenever you're in doubt about who's reponsible for partially bad results, always blame the board first. Number of records left to review or just listen to: 918 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 42 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 22 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important to me): 19

Four stars and a half An all-time classic of krautrock / komische As is usually the case with those five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 917 (including this one) Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 43 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 22 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 19

On the paper, I can get that many people find this Stereolab album charming. On the paper, that is. Because as adventurous as this record can be in its best moments, I however can't help feeling that the overall listening experience it has to offer is just a little too disjointed and pointless to this particular set of ears. Bleeps and bloops are always fun. But you need more than those sorts of playful sonic asides to build an album that goes beyond the usual "exercice de style". "Metronomic Underground" is a nice opener, for instance. But essentially, it is only Can's "You Doo Right" with scratches and a few tweaks here and there, instead of a true build-up to ecstasy. When does a piece of music end up being a smart hommage to the past and when does it start becoming a quite stale reproduction of it instead? It's a tricky question. Besides, many tracks in this collection seem a little too *nice* and innocuous to me anyway. I sometimes wonder if being French plays a part in this partial reluctance of mine here. It's not that Laetitia Sadier's lyrics in that language are bad (they're at least not worse than the ones in English). But it's as if understanding those words right away somehow kills a bit of the mystery some non-native French speakers see in them. Or at least that's the way I'm trying to explain the rave reviews for *Emperor Ketchup Tomato* in the English press at the time. Make no mistake, the subtly grinding motorik rythms of "Les Yper Sound" are somehow addictive, the lush layers of "OLV 26" are weaving a quite evocative soundscape, and the way "Tomorrow Is Already Here"'s guitars are bouncing and complementing each other from one headphone to the next is just fascinating and hypnotic (not to mention those marimbas !). Same with the voices in "Cybele's Reverie". Or the mesmerizing (and darker) qualities of closer "Anonymous Collective" (ending all too soon, unfortunately). But as successful as those oneiric forays are, other cuts clearly overstay their initial welcome, like the *Time Out* 5-beats trope--overplayed to death--in "Percolator". Or the mock-garage-indie-whateverness of "The Noise Of Carpet". Or the endless circles of the electro loops in the title track, leading to nowhere in particular. Not to mention quite a few others here and there... The thing is, when it comes to tongue-in-cheek pop experimentation fronted by a female yéyé mock-ingénue singing over a soundtrack filled with retro-future winks to the sixties, I think I'll always have a soft spot for Broadcast instead of Stereolab. Maybe in comparison the latter are just missing out on the necessary tension and/or melancholy to make the whole thing emotionally rewarding. But maybe that's just me and how I like my ketchup: with more acidic pickles, bittersweet ginger, and a far more *obvious* and substantial slice of spleen, right in the middle of my dish. Sugar ain't enough sometimes, even when sprinkled over a big juicy sonic tomato. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 917 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 43 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 23 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 19

Four stars. The one with "Paper Planes", M.I.A.'s signature song famously sampling The Clash's " Straight To Hell". *insert gunshots sounds followed by a cash register tinkle* But is the rest worth a detour, especially so many years later? I think it is. True, it's a bit silly at times, both musically and lyrically. And yet, rarely has the clash between so-called "third world" and western countries has been so nicely exemplified by an album. That clash is sometimes violent (with those sarcastic call to arms mostly mocking flawed western perceptions of immigrants), other times it's just a tongue-in-cheek party, but the whole thing is never heavy on the ear, and always serving a general genuinely uplifting mood. Percussions and vocal touches are often hectic or enticing, and most tracks are both swampy and bouncing from start to finish, as if Tricky had taken amphetamine instead of smoking crack. Special mention should be made of Timbaland-produced closer "Come Around" and its Bollywood-inspired vocal hooks, the mock-disco of "Jimmy" with its cliched-yet-exhilarating strings, or "Mango Pickle Down River"'s use of The Wilacannia Boys, that weird band of cute aboriginal kids from Australia, here celebrating nature and the "didge" (didgeridoo). Some songs are even conceptually ambitious in *Kala*. Take the grinding-yet-expansive "20 Dollars" and its vocoder-enhanced backdrop. Interestingly, that latter track has first been noticed because it used a vocal interpolation of Pixies' "Where Is My Mind" (M.I.A is a true indie fan, she quotes Pixies and other similar bands elsewhere on the record). But the real, unsaid influence on the song's mesmerizing bassline is actually none but New Order's "Blue Monday" here. Maya Arulpragasam and her producer Swith are cunning thieves, hiding one theft with another, therefore blurring their own tracks through a subtle multi-layering of references and pastiche. All they wanna do is "take your money", maybe. But sometimes, crime can also be interesting or relevant art, as in here. Just like immigrants, what they supposedly "take" or "steal" from other artists ultimately gives back a potential wealth of riches to music. *insert cash register sound* Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 917 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 43 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 23 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 19

It's still incredible to think this album was recorded in the middle of the sixties. I've read unconvinced reviewers in this group saying you don't necessarily need to go back to the hidden origins of a genre, but I strongly disagree here. The genre at stake is punk, here, of course--or should I say, rockabilly played in such a intense fashion that it barely sounds like it. And this thing is *wild*, even 57 years later. To me, it seems that Washington State, with its lumberjacks and geographically remote location on the US map, knows a thing or two about authenticity and intensity. It took almost 30 years to make it a landmark place for that sort of music, with Nirvana and the other great bands of that area. But things did start then. And it's just a riot being able to listen to it. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 918 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 44 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 23 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 19

There's "Lust For Life" and "The Passenger", those two tracks only making it worthwhile to buy your ticket for this ride. But there's also lewd "Sixteen", loud "Some Weird Sin" or lanky "Neighborhood Threat" (what a great 'proto-post punk' guitar arpeggio, slithering in the background from start to end...). There's "Success" and "Tonight". There's David Bowie and Ricky Gardiner in top form behind the scenes. And of course, there's Iggy, his voice, his presence. Still wild, roaring and intense a few years after the Stooges' demise. He snarls, he hoots, he hollers. If he's the "modern man", as he says he is in "Lust For Life", I'm all up for giving up drugs too, getting my shit together, and join him in Berlin to celebrate the ironies of consumer society. Danny Boyle had one of the greatest ideas of his life to use this track for Trainspotting (or was it the book's author, Irvine Welsh?). But the album is worth it, too, folks. So dive in. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

This record by fuzz-propelled garage grunge anti-stars from the Washington State area doesn't have the all-time hits the band are still known for today (such as "Touch Me, I'm Sick" or "Suck You Dry"). But overall, it's the most cohesive and convincing entry from their early output. Buy either this or a compilation from them (or better, buy both--there's only *one* compilation out there anyway). Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Can't really judge blues, whether from the Chicago school or any other school. I understand that the way those sorts of songs are performed is pivotal for someone to dig them, but those nuances are simply not graspable to me. So I yes, I can't really judge, at least subjectively. One of the only blues records I have in my collection is the Complete Recordings of Robert Johnson. I guess that doesn't really make me an expert. But in this live album, Muddy Waters still sounds like the real thing to my admittedly ignorant ears. So I'm gonna trust the real experts when they're saying this particular record just changed the lives of thousands and thousands of youths at the time (including The Stones, Clapton, Hendrix, Led Zeppelin and countless others), first in the States and then in the UK. This record was released in 1960, and it's one of the very first blues live album ever recorded. I've also noticed lots of Willie Dixon-penned tracks in there too, so I imagine he's worth checking out as well. And of course, I imagine you'd need to add "Mannish Boy" to all this (or Bo Diddley's "I'm A Man", which is basically the same song), to get a broader picture of the powers of that Chicago School. You gotta start somewhere, right? I can also understand the mystique around this album, given the circumstances in which it was recorded, i.e. during a festival that got almost cancelled because of the rioting that had occured there. There are lots of interesting anecdotes about all that online, but I won't delve into them right now, just do the research yourself if you're interested. The bottom line is that this gig (and recording) could have never existed, and popular music during the sixties and beyond would have been slightly different than what it turned out to be. So the words "culturally relevant" don't even do justice to how important this record is (and for once, this clearly goes beyond personal tastes). Those sorts of stakes are best exemplified through the last despondent track, "Goodbye Newport Blues", written right before the gig, with lyrics by none other than poet Langston Hughes--here sung by pianist Otis Spann (given that Muddy was too exhausted from his overall performance before, a performance which included classics such as "Hoochie Coochie Man", "I Got My Brand On You", "Tiger In Your Tank" and two hectic renditions of "I've Got My Mojo Workin'"). Probably referring to the climate of violence around the festival (partly sparked by the police repression), pianist Spann mourns about what a "gloomy day" it is as he sings goodbye to Newport. And yet, as sad as it sounds, something poignant and truly magical is happening here, as magical as the sudden whisps of wind that can be heard in many parts of this quite "barebones" recording (The show occured in the open, by the way, hence those sounds of wind. This can be seen in the photograph for the cover, for example, even though Waters used a different guitar for the gig than the one he's holding for that picture--and there's even an interesting tidbit to learn about that semi-acoustic guitar on the cover, but that's for you to find out as well...). So, why am I focusing on this tiny moment of the recording? Why is it *magical*? The reason is this: during "Goodbye Newport Blues", Spann indeed laments: "What's gonna happen to my music? What's gonna happen to this song?". What's truly magical here is that the answer to that desperate query came in the many waves of great US and UK acts who would feel inspired by this record (and other ones like that) in the years that followed 1960. Those inspired youths all heard Spann's call, as if carried away by that wind which breezes through the speakers as you're spinning this very record. And they answered it, through the great divides of race, class and even an ocean sometimes. "What's gonna happen to my music? What's gonna happen to this song?" Well, what happened is that it changed the world. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

It starts with the "diabolus in musica" tritone. It's the first heavy metal album. It's a sweeping roller coaster mixing blues-inspired evil riffs and haunted vocals. Toni Iommi makes the best of his guitar playing abilities, favoring evocative suspensions and sudden maniacal bursts. Ozzy Osbourne howls (unintentionally) funny lyrics once in a while, but most of the times what he howls about is on point to suggest the necessary ambiance. And this impulsive studio performance of all four members is the first of a handful that left their stamp on the history of rock. To put it in a nutshell, it's a stone-clod classic. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Generally, The War On Drugs does nothing for me, yet I can see why this album is recognized as Granduciel's biggest achievement yet. It's just that, apart from some highlights here and there in those looooong tracks (see "Red Eyes" or "The Ocean Between The Waves", for instance), the music on *Lost In The Dream* is just too 'one-note' compared to things I usually like (okay, two-notes, as in "the same two chords" repeated and then transposed all over a song, ha ha). Lyrics are fine, with some striking one-liners here and there. Yet most of the compositions and arrangements are just too linear to seal the deal for me. Granduciel does his best Dylan impression on opener "Under The Pressure", then channels his inner Springsteen on " Red Eyes", often to great effects. But as much as I can appreciate those references, and as nice as this album *sounds* overall, its second part tends to fade away into the background as it drones on, one track blurring into the next without making much of a difference. I always try to keep an open mind, but clearly, I don't see what the fuss is all about with this borderline "bland"- band. I might reconsider that take, though, and so leave the door open for other listens. In the realm of acts inspired by Springsteen and the likes, I guess you can still consider "Lost In the Dream" as better than anything The Killers ever recorded, for instance. That's gotta count for something, right? :D Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here. Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one). Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter.

Four Stars And A Half All of the three Stooges album should be essential listens, if only for their historical importance. They foretell the explosion of punk music like no other records from the late sixties / early seventies. This one here (the second) is the most challenging of the lot on first listens. So wild. So noisy. But trust me, keep on trying, and you'll quickly sense the intensity of what The Stooges must have sounded live like none of their other albums. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Ego = Genius. At least here. This is the record where Ye started to lose it on a personal level, and yet what a gain for music. Yeezus is leaner, crispier and strikes harder than MBDTF, but the latter is certainly the richest, catchiest and most sprawling of the two propositions Tracks such as "Runaway", with that simple yet insanely efficient piano part, "Power", with its soulful African vocals, "All Of The Night", with its maddeningly sinuous horns, or "Monster", that mean psychotic banger with that killer featuring by Nicki Minaj, are the stuff of legend. Kanye West is, simply put, the Gertrude Stein of hip hop. What he does sometimes doesn't make a lot of sense at first, like with those weird lyrics, or that strange flow--besides, who can sample *both* Mike Oldfield and Gil Scott-Heron in the same frigging album? But the more you pay attention to those sorts of details and how they intricately woven into the whole, the more they can affect you, at least during that run of classic albums from the early 10s. And just like Stein, that old modernist writer of days yonder, Ye had a keen, very *American*, sense of how to promote his weird stuff to the wider world. This is how he will be remembered in the decades to come. As an American oddity. Because, let's face it, right? Americans are all a little crazy, aren't they? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 911 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 49 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 25 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 19

*Not* one of the best Ye albums (for that early "college trilogy", *Late Registration* is certainly the strongest effort of the three), but this is how Kanye West came to be known for the wider world, and it's easy to understand why hip hop fans all over the world are still holding this album close to their heart. This record is mostly notable for two things: first, it broke the domination of gangster rap in the rap genre, and secondly, it promoted that "chipmunk soul" sound whose ripple effects can still be sensed today in the realm of "urban music". Too bad some of the songs and intentions are not fully formed yet. That being said, there are a few killer tracks on this record that are still holding out very well today, including that wonderful "Jesus Walks", with its unmistakable gospel stomp. It's not Ye-as-an-insane-genius yet. But it's still a worthwhile proposition. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 910 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 49 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 26 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 19

For now, this app says I don't like britpop. Wrong. I love it when it's well-written, topical as f*ck, smart and irreverent, nor to mention rich on a musical standpoint. Exactly what Pulp's magnum opus provides here. Oh, I almost forgot. And you can shake your rump on a dancefloor to a large chunk of those tracks, too. A huge plus that very few other britpop masterpieces can boast about. What more can you ask, really, eh? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 909 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 50 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 26 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 19

Seriously? With all the great albums in the overall metal genre, you'd have to include *two* Iron Maiden records on the list? This one (the first one) is not even the fully-formed version of this band Maidenheads and other old fans are so crazy about, but it's still kitschy enough to be mocked by mostly everyone else (save a few songs that are strangely slower than usual). Not exactly a win-win situation here... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

What else can be said about this one? It's the epitome of commercial Floyd, and yet it's first and foremost a timeless gem. Countless hi-fi systems are said to have been tested with this record during the seventies. But this album is not only great because of its sound. It's great because of the overall artistic intent, its *songs*, its pop instincts, its topical lyrics about madness, time and capitalism, not to mention its incredible (and trippy) sense of balance between experimentation and melancholic melodies. One for the ages. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 908 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 51 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 26 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 20

I didn't like LCD Soundsystem at the time they released their first three albums. I guess I was still a little too nostalgic for the nineties indie rock sound, and I found their party-driven, four-on-the-floor hits too shallow at first glance. But since those days, I've completely come around on what James Murphy set out to do with this band. Now I understand. Now I can shake my butt on those tracks AND appreciate the overall artistic intent, not to mention the often witty lyrics. Since those days, I've also learned to enjoy many classic albums by David Bowie and Talking Heads, and it's now clear to me why so many people at the time saw Murphy as the heir apparent of those legendary acts. So yeah, that string of three records LCD Soundsystem released during the aughts is part of my current CD collection and I often return to it. And this particular record here is probably the tighter, most effective of the lot. The first five tracks are absolute bangers, a relentless assault of clever sounds, mesmerizing rhythms and hooks, very much of their time, but still timeless. The simple, yet artfully thought-out arrangements on a track such as "Someone Great"--including that charming glockenspiel doubling up the main vocals--are showing how you can be both minimal *and* expansive for that sort of song (its runtime says 6 minutes, but they feel like three, honestly). Side B is more subtle, but it keeps you on your toes for its whole run. Those synth-processed backing vocals in the title track are nothing short of amazing, for example. And formidable closer "New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down" is both ironic AND moving, which is a combination rarely reached in modern music. So it's easily five stars for me now. As the French say, only fools never change their minds... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 907 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 52 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 26 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 20

An interesting listen, and an important "historical" document for fans of the genre (and conga players, I imagine). But I doubt even them will select this as the sort of album out of whom they take the most pleasure overall. But what do I know about those things, eh? Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter  Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

I'm pretty sure Trent Reznor now bitterly regrets ever having associated his name with this pathetic clown. But even before the accusations of psychological and sexual abuse, even before all those unsavory extramusical events surrounding the story of this psycho parading as an "artist", it was so obvious how poorly this music would age in a very short amount of time. Behind the shock glock shtick, behind the lame posturing and the make-up barely concealing the lack of any relevant ideas on a musical standpoint, everything in this record overblown to the extreme actually sounds... bland. To go back to Reznor, what we have here is a third-rate version of Nine Inch Nails at best (knowing the original is not necessarily for everyone anyway). Like horror films that fail to scare their viewers, and are not even fun to watch if you just want to have a good laugh with friends, it's just an embarassing moment. A waste of time. In the age of Korn and Nu-metal, I guess sone teenagers desperately trying to look edgy could fall for this ridiculous circus. I'm also pretty damn sure that 99% of those teenagers now grown to adults never return to this album. Or *any* album by Marilyn Manson--I do seem to remember a few stronger melodies on *Mechanical Animals*, so I might feel generous enough to give that one two stars if it ever pops up here. But no more than that. The only thing that seemed to redeem MM at the time was that it was the target of those Christian fundamentalist lunatics obssessed with dogma and self-repression. Those fanatics obviously can't understand art. But since MM himself doesn't understand what *good* art is, why should we bother trying to redeem him now? Especially today, with all the news... ? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 900 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 52 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 27 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 22 (including this one)

One of my acquaintances in high school would give me the nickname 'Pixies' because of my love of this band at the time. So you can easily imagine how close to my heart this legendary record is. Probably in my top five list of all-time favorites... But reading the reviews from this group, it seems I'm far from being the only one to find this album so frigging good. Black Francis' muscled-yet-sugary pop chops, his geeky pot-pourri of surrealism conniving with references going from the bible to sci-fi, both of them mating with teenage angst--not to forget his stellar choruses and his mock-hardcore punk growls--along with Kim Deal's velvety background vocals or plucky basslines, Joey Santiago's forays into surf rock or jangle indie, and David Lovering's gated drums with a very retro (?) sound, (thanks to producer Gil Norton)--all of this makes it one for the ages, a record that's both adventurous and terrifically cohesive overall, both totally indiosyncratic and immediately catchy and hummable. A masterpiece. But what struck me the most reading all those reviews here, is the sheer number of *first-timers* telling how hard this record slapped them in the face, so to speak. Some of those first-timers already knew a few indie hits like "Wave Of Mutilation" or "Monkey Gone To Heaven" , but they couldn't anticipate how good everything else would be, from "Debaser"'s soaring introductory bassline to "Gouge Away'"s alternate use of minor and major chords to conclude the album on an ominous and surprisingly somber note. Commentators and reviewers have also rightly pointed out how important this album was for rock in general, with its quiet-loud-quiet dynamics foretelling the "alternative" explosion of the nineties of years later. But as Kurt Cobain knew himself--and this, probably at the very same time he confessed having 'ripped off' Pixies for "Smells Like Teen Spirit"--all of this wouldn't be worth a rat'a ass if the *songs* had not been so good. And personal. And hummable and weird and strange and funny and dark and twisted and light-hearted and wonderful. It takes a genius songwriter to recognize the genius of one of his peers. And this is what Doolittle is: pure genius. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  less than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Well, oh well. It's decently crafted, at least, and if I try aiming for objectivity (an impossible task, admittedly), maybe that's three stars. But to be honest, the overall feeling I get from this band (and album) is that it's a subpar version of Blur trying to imitate the Kinks with a few glam or psychedelic sprinklings here and there (nice arragements but rather inconsequential for me given the nature of the songs). Super Furry Animals admittedly got right a lot of ingredients from one of those oh-so-effective britpop formulas. Except from one *key* element: truly *dynamic* melodies and harmonies. So, I'm a little sorry to say this, but overall, this record is way too bland for my rock tastes. And consequently, this "Fuzzy Logic" is gonna get two stars only. Because I can't feel anything listening to this band. The artistic intent and overall sense of pop melody is a little too... fuzzy for me. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 898 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 53 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 27 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 23 (including this one)

Springsteen's magnum opus. *Darkness In The Edge Of Town*, *Nebraska*, and *Greetings Form Asbury Park, NJ* are also quite nice, by the way. The rest is not worth your attention if you're not a fan already, especially *The River*, too long and self-indulgent, or *Born In The USA*, too damn cheesy overall (and I'm not even talking of the records after that). What about this one? It's nice, really, really nice. Catchy piano riffs and intricate guitar solos abound. The title track is both immediatly gripping AND sophisticated (that incredibly complex bridge towards the end), but each of the other cuts have something specific and moving to say (special mention to opener "Thunder Road", "She's The One", "Night" and epic closer "Jungleland"--rarely have blue-collar stories of love, work and everything in between been depicted in such a grand and precise scope). Awesome lyrics overall, which justify the Boss being so chatty during those songs--a problem if you like vocals that allow you to grasp some fresh air once in a while, but the lyrical outpouring is still (mostly) justified in here. Urban romanticism at its best. And the fact that the sound is a little dated actually brings another layer of charm to the whole thing. Oh, and for once in a rock album, the sax solos are a great addition here. RIP, Mr. Clemons. Bruce Springsteen put New Jersey in the map of rock'n'roll for eternity. And it's the world that can thank him for it. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 897 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 54 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 27 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 23

Damn, how the first five tracks of this one SLAP! The inclusion of Latin American rhythms within some of the most uncompromising metal of those years is just seamless. From "Roots Bloody Roots" to "Breed Apart", not a second is wasted to make this fusion works. Special mention to "Ratamahatta" and its incredible featuring of percussionist Carlinhos Brown. And Ross Robinson did a hell of a job on production (better than Andy Wallace for the former Sepultura classic *Chaos A.D.*). The later inclusion of field recordings of Amazonian tribes is also very nice. Sonically and topically relevant. I just wish that seamless inclusion of Brazilian influences has worked *until the end*. The second part of the album is indeed a little more hit or miss, and loses some of its momentum through its many u-turns (there's still that somewhat atmospheric track with Mike Pattton and Jonathan Davis--but such moments are too far and between). As a result, this record might just be a little too long. So, to put it in a nutshell, *Roots* is based on an awesome concept, one that somehow renews the whole metal genre. But the second half of this album *might* just be a little lacking in terms of sheer execution. That being said, even with those minor shortcomings, it should still be included in a list of 1001 most important albums. If only because there are not many crossover albums like this in the whole metal genre, ones that can bring curious listeners from the outside without alienating its hardcore fanbase. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 896 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 55 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 27 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 23

Four Stars And A Half. Why not five stars? Let's be *a little* serious for a second: an album with a cheesefest such as "The Girl Be Mine" can't possibly boast deserving a five-star review. Especially when such cheesefest is on the third slot of said album. McCartney is to blame on this one too, but mostly, the real culprit is probably producer Quincy Jones here. He should just have put his foot down and *at least* change the ordering of the tracks. In a way, this dud also foretells everything that went wrong with Michael Jackson afterwards (it's part of "Hisstory" ha ha). So I guess you'd better listen to it *once*, and then just skip it everytime you spin this album again. Just a friendly piece of advice here... This minor debacle being out of the way now, the fact that everything else on *Thriller* is spot on, even with such an early misstep in the tracklisting, tells a lot about how important this record is overall. Production values AND songwriting here go hand in hand to give an avid amateur of groove the time of their life. Rarely have pop, funk, rock, disco and r'n'b been so intricately and artfully mixed together. This album is just the stuff of legend--not only for those eternal hits that made Michael Jackson as a solo artist enter music history through luxurious front gates (the title-track, "Billie Jean", "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" or "Beat It"), but also for all those incredibly flawless arrangements driving the whole shebang to the max. This here is the best *blockbuster* album the eighties have ever given to the world, for which Jones can now be thanked a thousand times. Each rumbling bassline, each guitar lick, each beat, each comma--each raspy breath from Michael, even--is like a sonic dream come true. The care for details just leaves you speechless. And yet, just like many of those blockbuster movies from the same decade (by Steven Spielberg, Ron Howard or John Landis, who actually directed "Thriller"'s unforgettable video), the overall story this record offers you is also filled with a lot of charm and soul, as ludicrously grand and insanely ambitious as its settings are. The first record I had to review for this app was Jackson's aptly-named *Bad*. One of the very rare one-star reviews I have ever written for this project (please feel free to read it for yourself, for what it's worth). *Of course* I also had "Thriller" in mind as I wrote it, wishing I had had that one to review instead, if only to set the record straight about what I really thought about Michael Jackson as an artist. The circle is now complete. Now I can go on on this thing with a lighter mind (and with very open ears, that goes without saying... :) ...). In the meantime, I'll keep on trying to practice my moonwalk steps in my living room as I play this album again and again and again... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 895 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 56 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 27 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 23

The Flaming Lips are a band you must listen to at least once in your life. And "The Soft Bulletin" is the album most fans will probably tell you you must start with. It's a nice album overall. I'm just wondering about one little thing. My oh my, why hasn't anyone (other band members, producer Jonathan Friedmann--*anyone*) told the singer he was decidedly singing OFF-KEY during the takes??? I'm all for "rough" or "fragile" vocals in certain genres (like with Flaming Lips' models Mercury Rev, for instance). Emotion is sometimes more primordial than perfect notes as to how the human voice can affect listeners. It can bring a sense of authenticity that makes up for a singer's technical limitations. But there's a limit. And *The Soft Bulletin" clearly blows that limit away to pieces. This is how an album that could have been a legendary one, ends up being a good one instead. This is how you lose one star, folks. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 894 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 57 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 27 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 23

The mere fact that this list includes the eponymous first album by Queens Of The Stone Age and NOT *Songs For The Deaf* speaks TONS about Dimery and his collaborators' shortsightedness sometimes. This one here is a good record, no doubt about that. But everything in *Songs For The Deaf*--the sound, the songwriting, the performances--is at least TWICE better in that later, far more legendary album. And even for a second slot in a ranking of the band's discography, *Rated R* is actually probably more convincing overall than *Queens of The Stone Age*. It thus seems that stoner rock here joins the other genres where this list is quite wrong (jazz, post rock, punk hardcore, post-hardcore, metal hardcore...), either leaving out key albums of said genres or just lazily quoting first efforts by a few famous acts without ever trying to dig further into the close future to highlight the real true gems in those acts' discography. Dimery and friends only really do so for indie rock and britpop, sometimes with a few bizarre choices that don't necessarily make sense in the light of those other blatant omissions elsewhere. I blame some sort of shortsightedness that's clearly British in its origin--the *1001 Albums...* book's writers are all British, aren't they? It's not that American critics are right all the time either. But being French, and from this particular point of view, I think that a middle ground could be reached so as to find a more balanced view of recent music history in a (mostly) anglo-saxon context. Of course, all those considerations couldn't be further removed from the contents of this album (and its kinky cover). This record here is a nice entry point into the Stoner Rock/ Desert Rock sound of QOTSA (or even other bands like that). Go listen to it if you don't know that sort of sound yet, and if you're interested in motorik highways, heavy guitar riffs, tales of desert desperados, and mellifluous vocals mixed with a few howling and yellings here and there... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 893 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 57 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 28 (including this one--*Songs For The Deaf* should be included *first*) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 23

Let's all be a little honest for a second. None of the tracks from this album can compare with Paul's usual output in The Beatles. Now that this quite obvious statement is out of the way, is *Band On The Run* a good album? Well, it's not so bad all things considered, especially its two first and two last tracks. "Band On The Run" and "Jet" are nice hits, catchy yet both with original non-linear song structures that allow Wings to explore and experiment stuff a little. As for the last two tracks, they often call back to the (few) highlights of the album, giving a sense of closure to the whole thing. The problem is, almost everything between those two bookends drags A LOT, with very few obvious hooks or dynamic changes. Apart from a "ho-hey-ho" gimmick on the fourth track--one of the elements repeated in the very experimental "Picasso's Last Words before the closing title--there's not much that can worm its way inside your brain--which is quite disappointing coming from an ex-Beatles. And even this comes off as a letdown: we're here closer to the "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" sort of innocuous nonsense than to anything resembling "Eleanor Rigby", "Yesterday", "Back In The USSR", " Let It be" or "Hey Jude". For this particular writer and listener, *McCartney II* is the most satisfying post-Beatles album Macca ever released anyway. It's not a perfect album either, but at least this one is *truly* dynamic, in spite of the fact that it was primarily recorded at home. From one track to the next, this other record goes from synth experimentation with a proto post-punk edge to delicate balladery, and from unabashed cynicism to blue-eyed lyricism, with naive yet touching lyrics. Here is the Paul McCartney you can fondly remember, even though "II" is far less known than his records with Wings... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 892 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 57 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 28 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 24 (including this one)

I might grumble about the book this app is based on, but I have to admit this project also allows you to discover great stuff. I thought I knew the most important names in original British punk rock. I was dead wrong. This album is great (and the one after that is not bad either, as misunderstood as it was at the time). I still have to find my way as to what choice words I could use to convey how original this band was while still retaining the basic ingredients of punk. In the meantime, I'll merely highlight "One Chord Wonders", "Gary Gilmore's Eyes" (originally a single) or "Safety In Numbers" as the true punk gems they are. But mostly, I will finish this very short review by praising how f*cking epic closer "Great British Mistake" sounds, even today. Thanks, Dimery and co. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 891 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 57 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 24

"50 years later and it still sounds like the future," as someone wise said in this group. It's no coincidence Can has been quoted, praised or embraced by the likes of Radiohead, Portishead or LCD Soundsystem. This German answer to seventies prog-rock understood how one could convey the same hypnotic canvas without resorting to shtick or unnecessary campy solos. A wide variety of styles, from punk to techno, can thank those kraut prophets for their groundbreaking work. This particular album, the last one fronted by singer/howler Damo Suzuki is remarkable for many things, but what's probably most striking is the mesmerizing intricacies of the rhythm section and the very chilled, laidback instrumentation. Think of avant-garde brainy music students being suddenly stranded on a tropical desert island. The end result is lean, devoid of fat, and it's both tense and dreamy all at the same time. This is the last album in the legendary trilogy *Tago Mago*, *Ege Bayasim* and *Future Days* (to which one could easily add precursor *Monster Movie*--Malcolm Mooney was a spectacular frontman, too). As such, it should be owned by every fan of inventive, evocative, groovy, moody, leftfield, forward-sounding music. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 890 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 58 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 24

"Psycho Killer, qu'est-ce que c'est ? Pa pa pa paaa pa pa pa paaaa pa pa !" No band ever sounded like the Talking Heads. Originally I was not a *huge* fan--I only knew them through the compilation "Popular Favorites", and also their 1980 masterpiece, "Remain In Light". But since those days, I understood two things: a) Minus stuff on the level of " Once In A Lifetime" or "Psycho Killer", I finally understood that their so-called "popular favorites" are *mostly* NOT among my favorite tracks of theirs. Case in point here, the two first songs of this record, which I absolutely love (and yet were absent from this compilation I mentioned earlier...) b) No compilation, even one as comprehensive as it can reasonably be, can do justice to what the Heads do so brilliantly in their individual records (especially the first four of them). Some tracks take on a different meaning overall during the flow of these individual albums. ALL the songs are adventurous affairs with bold arrangements. And David Byrne can be an impressive storyteller sometimes... Consequently, I now get how this first record of theirs must have been a shock for rock (and punk) fans. This one here is interesting because it predates Brian Eno's involvement with the band. The overall sound is more direct, rawer, which brings a charm that's different from their later output. There's still that influence from protopunk bands such as The Modern Lovers (logical since the two bands had the same second guitarist). To put this in a nutshell, this record is worthy of its legendary status, Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 889 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 59 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 24

This starts off quite poorly. Like Steely Dan without the intricate jazzy arrangements. Like Billy Joel struggling to get an "indie" sound right (but to what ends would he do that, really?). It's just cheesy pop, competently written and decently played, but nothing that forces you to raise your head and want to pay more attention to the proceedings. In my opinion, reviewers who compared this band to REM should have their ears (or their brains) checked. There's none of the intensity found in most 80s output from Stipe, Berry, Buck and Mills. It's very generic, nothing that deserves to be included in a list of mandatory listens. At least on first glance. After the first two tracks, things fortunately pick up a little though. There are the two undeniable hits from the record, first "Fall At Your Feet", still admittedly a little cheesy in the way the singer is here wearing his heart on his sleeve, and yet boasting a memorable and even timeless chorus. And the same goes for "Weather With You", with its catchy singalong group vocal hook and its mesmerizing jangling guitar line worming its way to your mind. In between, the more lively "Tall Trees" *does* passingly deserve those earlier REM comparisons. At this point, one may hope that *Woodface* is one of those records with a slow build, keeping its best cuts on the second side, with only a few worthwhile appetizers on the first. That sort of tracklisting is rare, but it's pleasurable when it works out on the whole... Unfortunately, 90% of what follows those three songs sets us back to that *thick* snorefest mode felt at the start of the album, with very *boring* ballads, mostly... Only worthy of notice are "Four Seasons In One Day", where Finn channels his inner Paul McCartney to give a delicate, subtly composed cut. And the lush strings of "All I Ask" color things a little at least, even if the song itself sounds like a bad parody of "third stream" vocal jazz... As for the rest, every slow track fades into the next without leaving much of an impression. The Finn brothers can be strong songwriters when they want to (see the examples above), yet one can't help feeling they were somewhat lazy when it came to the music they wrote for this record, with all those textbook chord progressions and vocal lines (lyrics are a different animal, but they can't save the day either--not with so many long moments where nothing really happens on the musical level). Curiously, a very short hidden track at the end of this record finds the band in a totally different mood, jamming and yelling together in what is obviously a live take. A messy one, admittedly, but something *alive* at last... It's as if the band suddenly realized how bland everything was before, and wished to spice things up a little at the last minute. But it's too little and too late. They can yell "I'm still here" all they want. The problem is that, as a listener, *I'm* not, and only wish to go on to the next record, hoping to find something at least relatively *exciting*. So... Next, please. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 888 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 59 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 25 (including this one)

Give me rap-rock or rap-metal crossover albums anytime. Give me a *bit* of nu-metal, even. Give me heavy guitar riffs, true rebellion, sharp politically-minded lyrics. Or, on the contrary, give me brutally sincere descriptions of personal malaise. Anything that finds an artistically relevant way to scream: "I'm alive, this world is fucked up, I suffer, but I'm alive!". Give me Rage Against The Machine, System Of A Down, Deftones, the "Judgment Night" motion picture soundtrack... Even the early Korn albums can work out... But don't give me this overbloated, overproduced turd of a record. Heck, turds have taste at least, or so I hear. :) As you can, I won't mince words about this band (and first album). But I've got my reasons. To me, *Hybrid Theory* is indeed the epitome of blandness--nothing in it *feels* honest or authentic. You might tell me Chester Bennington's lyrics drew from his difficult childhood experience, I just can't find a way to *care* about them. Because the end results here are just plain corny--there's none of the strong imagery delivered by his pal Chino Moreno, for instance, or the latter's intense, dynamic performance throughout Deftones' discography. The so-called "rebellion" or "malaise" in Linkin' Park's lyrics actually amount to pointing at nothing in particular, with vague references about "bad memories" and the likes. And those lyrics are just *one* ingredient among others in a mechanical formula. They just have nothing to say. And they even manage to say it badly. The same goes for the cheesy, dated rapping, or the vocal lines for the choruses and singing parts, which are *always* predictable--unimaginative melodies copied-and-pasted over unimaginative guitar riffs, so slick and clean they actually sound like synths. Because no, the instrumentation is not good either, as competent the performers (or production tools) are. The band does the same thing all over again, mostly, with the same sort of lazy, overdone tricks being applied from start to finish. Guitar saturation is here used to raze everything to the same orderly level, devoid of any true *life*. A paradox of sorts, which owes more to protools shenanigans than any thought-out concept behind the music. Which makes sense, given that saturation is also used here to hide the lack of any shred of meaningful idea. That's probably what's "Hybrid" in the "Theory" here--this thing being *both* lifeless AND brainless. Even the electronic/abstract hip hop asides suck, minus the very short "Cure For The Itch", maybe--but to be fair, this minor track towards the end is nothing but a secondhand attempt at a DJ Shadow-like instrumental... And just as everything in the album--that awful cover, for instance--its inclusion in the tracklisting looks like a decision made by a corporate committee, not one made by a real, genuine band showing personality. And just like everything else, it's a stylistic dead end. *Hybrid Theory* made millions, admittedly (not necessarily a sure sign of quality, but OK). It sold a hold a huge lot. Yet it's a dead-end nonetheless. Void. Sterile. We can just all be glad and grateful that teens or kids these days are not listening to such crap anymore. At least, they'll make *fresh* mistakes of their own... In the light of Bennington's still recent suicide, this personal judgment about what is merely a piece of art here might sound harsh, of course, even exaggerated. May the man rest in peace, God bless his soul, and so on... May people who go through what he had to go through, just like Chris Cornell or Kurt Cobain, or anybody else, find the help they need to survive. To be honest, I wish that this band had at least provided Bennington that catharsis he so direly needed to get better. And this aside obviously goes beyond any personal tastes about music. One could have hoped that years after their first commercial success, Linkin' Park's singer might have found some meaning in his life. But things don't always work out that way, even when you manage to "make it". Friends who knew Bennington seem to say he was a good person. I don't know, I didn't know him. But I just hope that fans who are reading this understand I have nothing against the man. I simply didn't like the artist, and the band he was part in. These things happen... As for the rest, be aware that hope comes in many forms, and that if music, good or bad, can't save you, you can *still* find other ways out--through reaching out to friends or a family genuinely caring for you, or through mental health professionals. Anything that can help you get better. But I'd rather hear about who Chester Bennington was as a person rather than having to listen to his music again. It's not for me. In a way, critics' accusations that the band had "sold out" for 2017's pop-oriented *One More Light*--that they now suddenly sounded "as if they were selected by committee", to be more precise--were totally and absolutely nonsensical to my ears. Because to me, they've *always* been this way. A few yellings and heavy guitar riffs here and there couldn't hide the fact that they've never been the sharpest knife in the drawer, musically speaking. And Bennington's offensive public replies to those misguided critics did not only show how fragile his mental state was, but also how lost he was as to the sort of audience his band had entertained for all these years. And there's probably a good reason for that. Because a) that audience had never been picky for sure. And b) it was dwindling album after album anyway. In all honesty, it's a bit of a mystery *who* this music is aimed at today, in 2022 (both for what it was in 2017 AND what it had been in 2000). And this, also, makes me kinda sad... Not for Bennington, this time, but for the standards generally followed by this list of records. So next, please... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 887 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 59 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 26 (including this one)

"Creep" saved Radiohead. This single came from a half-baked album, *Pablo Honey*, clumsily mixing britpop with some more "American" influences. But "Creep" was a hit and showed Radiohead they had it in them to make a record for the ages. And since the Oxford quintet was not afraid to take a long, hard look at what they had just done with their first LP (a mindset they would mostly keep for their whole career, up until today), they knew what needed to be done. A perfect balance between self-confidence and self-criticism was the key. And it opened a door that led to one of the most brilliant discographies ever put to tape. In the course of this discography, *The Bends* is therefore Radiohead's first masterpiece (there's been five of them by my count, but first times always have their peculiar charm, don't they?). To say it shortly, this first masterpiece was mostly remarkable in the manner it aptly mixed twisted rockers and heartwrenching ballads. Everything is stellar in it--the songwriting, the lyrics, the vocal performances, the intricate bass-and-guitar arrangements, John Leckie's clean yet no-nonsense production. Tracks segue into one another in a totally dynamic way. The dystopian atmosphere that will further be explored in *OK Computer* and *Kid A* can already be felt (but this time through generally more streamlined compositions than what would come next). And the songs, the songs... Between the intense title-track, the melancholic "High And Dry", the devastatingly beautiful "Fake Plastic Trees", the tight and angular "Just", the sinister guitar hook of the messy and sardonic "My Iron Lung", not to mention the epic and poignant closer "Fade Out", with its elegiac arpeggio and truly *haunted* chorus, there's a little bit for everyone. And yet this record still sounds cohesive and ambitious, as adventurous as it is--every britpop or US alt-rock influence being properly digested to mingle into a wide-sounding sonic landscape, every vocal intention and guitar lick serving a discourse that transcends style or genres. This here is one of those very rare albums where there's absolutely no fillers (just like *OK Computer*, actually)--each track has something unique going on for it, even the ones I didn't mention up there. I can't but envy the people who are discovering it today, 25 years or so later. And given what most reviewers are saying in this group, they are certainly not disappointed... But this is no surprise (and no alarm, to quote a later song). Just as opener "Planet Telex" states it, Radiohead are never sounding better than when they lament that "everything is broken", only to pick up those disparate pieces and shape them into a single body of work that's unique, moving and relevant. They're THE postmodernist rock band of the late nineties / early aughts. And as such, they deserve to have their seats at the table of the greatest acts ever... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 886 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 60 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 26

It's either hit or miss with Tom Waits, as far as I'm concerned, and this at whatever point of his long and productive career. But I gotta admit I undertstand why this abum in particular is often quoted by his more casual fans. It's part of that string of albums in the 80s where Waits dived into weirder territory, not that his mock-jazz, mock-blues, mock-cabaret act has ever been a normcore affair anyway... Listening to *Rain Dogs* with a little more attention, I sense that I could very well become one of those casual fans in time. The writing (the lyrics first, but the music, instrumentation, and arrangements, too--see those poetic-yet-often-ominous marimbas) is top-notch on this record (starting with 'Singapore' and 'Clap Hands', but also for many other tracks here). What's working out quite well in this particular album is that it's well-balanced, between weird experimental interludes, moody pieces where Waits is as much an actor as he is a singer, and more straightforward love songs, where his voice is a little less 'outré' and even suggests a very *slightly' inebriated Springsteen (so someone with whom you could have a normal conversation, which is not the case cuts that are out of this category here). A quite dynamic entry overall, where you don't *necessarily* need the lyrics sheet to get into the songs (reading those words is a plus, but it's not mandatiry), contrary to less accessible records of his. Maybe I'm slowly becoming a casual fan, who knows? Since this app suggested me to spin it, I've even found a secondhand copy of this record online. Given that I've never found any Tom Waits compilation that fully satisfied me (it's always missing tracks that i wish i had), "Rain Dogs" will happily be my key Tom Waits album. Until the next suggestion, maybe... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  less than 900, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter, approximately Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Whoever in here said there wouldn't have been a *Nevermind* without this record didn't understand where Kurt Cobain drew inspiration from at all--replace Nirvana with Red Hot Chili Pepper, and now we're talking... This minor quibble aside, what can I say about this album? It's not so bad. But it's not so good either. The second side, with its long borderline-psychedelic ballads, has certainly aged better than the first displaying those happy-go-lucky cuts reeking of rock clichés from the late 80s, ones that would soon be wiped out by the nineties indie-rock / slacker rock / noise rock/ grunge / post-hardcore explosion (take your favorite pick). I'm all for a little exhilatrated tracks with a sunny disposition here and there, but given the conspicuous absence of certain genres that can also boast of such exhilaration in Dimery's list (melodic hardcore punk, for instance--far more powerful in its directness compared to those hackneyed clichés displayed on the first side of this record), I find it quite unfair that this album should be singled out instead of others. You want to get rockers with a slightly funky subtext, led by a clear and direct voice? Go to Turnstile's last two LPs (the last one was out last year). Or go to the other melodic hardcore punk bands they kinda ripped off... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 884 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 61 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 27 (including this one)

Without Dimery's list (which I was able to find online), I would never have discovered this wonderful record, one of those rare kinds of albums that transcends its day and age while fully sounding *from them*. Like mostly everyone interested in sixties music, I knew (and liked) famous Yardbirds stuff such as the Graham Gouldman-penned "For Your Love" and "Evil Hearted You". But "Roger The Engineer (The Yardbirds)" is so much more than that... Contrary to what a few reviewers with a short attention span have written here, Clapton was already out of the picture when the band recorded this album--and it was a good thing: Clapton was then way too "conservative" at the time with his blues orthodoxy to let "Roger"'s adventures happen (the man also proved how obnoxious he could be on many occasions during his later career--but that's a story for another time...). The end result here is that the band then used Jeff Beck to replace him, and this to great effects if you're a fan of good guitar playing--see for instance the technically impressive "Jeff's Boogie". Yet all of this wouldn't be worth a rat's ass if the birds hadn't embraced the psychedelic shenanigans of those days in such an orginal and varied way. From the bizarre yet mellifluous fuzz riffs of hit "Over, Under, Sideways, Down" to the groovy basslines of "Lost Women" and "Hot House Of Omagarashid", the mood is definitely "shaggadelic, babe!" at an Austin Powers-on-LSD level of intensity. Yet as fun as those tracks are, they never fully forget that Chicago blues inspiration either. "Roger The Engineer" just allows you to hear that sound evolving to become... something else. And that something else is the future of rock'n'roll. You can obviously smell whiffs of Led Zeppelin here and there (Jimmy Page is indeed the young guitarist who will replace Jeff Beck not long after this record). You can even behold the seed that would be soon sowed in Iommi and Osbourne's twisted minds not long before they created Black Sabbath in the mystical "Turn Into Earth" and "Ever Since The World Began" (especially in the latter's long introduction). This closer actually sums up the scope of moods embraced by the album, from a droning lament to a lively booter shaker to cap things neatly and nicely. For this album, I highly recommend the 1987 Impact Record edition, because it includes the killer single "Happening Ten Years Time Ago" *within* the tracklisting (and not in the end, as a bonus, as in the online links provided here). That single is simply a masterpiece and deserved to be part of the feast anyway. French alternative rock fans will find its riff, quickly descending half tone after half tone, familiar. That riff was actually ripped off by Noir Désir for their hit "Tostaky" (directly or indirectly), their stroke of genius being that thay also gave it an *ascending* counterpart. But apart for this riff, the single has many other assets to boast about, so don't forget to give it a spin too... So here it is: "Roger The Enginner". More than a psychedelic doodle, it is a fully realized vision--adventurous, fun yet ambitious in its scope and moods. A hidden gem that deserves each and everyone of its five stars. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 883 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 62 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 27

It's surf rock meets punk meets indie rock meets pop meets sci-fi obsession meets teenage lust. Or, should I say, it's Dick Dale meets Hüsker Dü meets REM meets Ed Wood meets The Shangri-Las. It's those explosive chord changes and barks by Black Francis. It's those spacey solos by Joey Santiago. It's those straightfaced background vocals and straightforward basslines by Kim Deal. It's those metronomic gated drums by David Lowering. It's Gil Norton's streamlined production. It's that stellar songwriting all around, minus a very few patchy songs here and there (4.5/5 would be my exact score for this particular record, but let's not split hairs, there's enough great stuff in it to justify its presence on the list). It's a good memory, but not only that: I must have listened to the first four albums from this legendary band a thousand times, but everytime this app points me to one of them, I bob my head to it just like I did during the nineties. It's cinematic AND musical. It's wild AND melodic. It's definitely from the nineties as I said, but it also has that late fifties/early sixties mood and atmosphere to it. It's like no other band. It's the apex of early indie rock, one that would reshuffle all cards in the decade to come. It's lively. It's catchy. It's terrific. It's the frigging Pixies in their heyday. Enough said. Oh, I almost forgot. As I'm spinning "Bossanova" in my living room right now, my 16-year old stepson just told me how much he loves this band too. He definitely comes from another day and age, musically speaking. But he can recognize truly awesome stuff when he stumbles upon it. A timeless record. One of the very few you can find out there. Keep them coming, Dimery and co. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 882 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 63 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 27

The template of post-punk. Or, should I rather say, the first temple, given the peculiar 'space' felt throughout this record, which is wide-sounding and yet claustrophobic at the same time. Martin Hannet's production ideas were one of a kind, for better (most of the time) or for worse. Yet the band also had a very dark vision of how late-20th century music should sound after punk, no matter how many times Hannet pulled the rug from under their feet with his off-kilter ideas (like putting that simple, propulsive yet very melodic bass forward in the mix, instead of the guitar--with great effects on tracks such as "Disorder", "Insight", "She's Lost Control"). From this battle of minds, some essential spark came forth. And this spark fully transcended the bum notes here and there, a few clumsy rhythm transitions and some off-key instruments in short yet clearly discernible moments. Ian Curtis had such a powerful presence anyway, such a sepulchral aura, both vocally and as a lyricist (not to mention his persona onstage), that all those minor flaws up there didn't matter anymore. And they still don't today. This record (with admittedly a very few others down the line, by Wire, The Cure, Gang of Four, or Siouxsie and the Banshees) gave birth to a whole genre. Of course, it's got to be a mandatory listen... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 881 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 64 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 27

I'm writing this right after the Netflix series Stranger Things made "Running Up That Hill" a hit in the charts again. But then again, I didn't really need a TV series to be at least aware of Kate Bush's magnum opus, from which this song is the opener. And on a closer listen, I can finally understand the myriad ways in which this record is a treasure trove, and why it is so loved by fans. Its first side ("Hounds Of Love" proper) is not only filled with hits but also with incredible arrangements transcending often off-kilter songwriting skills. In the realm of pop, I'm usually a sucker for verse-chorus-verse structures, but this is not really how Bush proceeds, is it? Her pop songs are more driven by very careful progressions starting from one single idea, and this is where her devilish arrangements--a lot of them handled by herself through synths and whatnot--are playing a key part. Whether they enter the scene as bass drums ("Running Up That Hill"), strings staccatos ("Hounds Of Love" and "Cloudbusting" ), or infectious, frantically slapped basslines ("The Big Sky"), such arrangements are always bringing a peculiar atmosphere that makes such pop songs one-of-a-kind, almost "goth" in their intent. *Some* of those flourishes sound admittedly a little dated today (I still dream of a version of "Cloudbusting" without that oversimplistic binary drum part, with just the strings, for instance), but even those have their quaint charms now. And Kate's vocal work is rich enough to make up for those somewhat dated flaws anyway. Such work is often mellifluous, expansive and mystical--with even Bulgarian chants overtones sometimes, not up to a Meredith Monk-level of craziness, but quirky enough to keep you on your toes. Yet this voice that muses and yodels and grunts and coaxes can also be restrained from time to time, as in the delicate "Mother Stands For Comfort", whose synths, basslines and ambiguous lyrics about the mother of a possible murderer haven't aged a day... In the second part of the record, The Ninth Wave suite, Bush then goes to a full experimental mode, and this where her genius shines the most. Even more than on the first, more "normal" side, she uses her kaleidoscopic voice the way a painter uses a color palette, adding spots and dots and streaks throughout the suite, dizzying the listener into a sonic whirlwind (I'm pretty sure Björk or Tori Amos took a lot of notes here). This second side places the listener in media res inside a loose tale about death and rebirth, something apparently disconnected from the first part of the record.... But more than this vague narrative conceit, it is the sounds and notes that are the true narrators of the tale here. Chilly synths evoke a frozen lake ("Under Ice"), voice collages of all sorts suggesting posession and curses and witchcraft bring a postmodern, Laurie Anderson-like flavor to the middle of the yarn ("Waking the Witch", "Watching You Without Me"), while uilleann pipes, fiddles and bouzouki trigger a celtic tornado that suddenly resets all expectations (thus creating a frantic "Jig Of Life" whose clever harmonies can send you to an exhilarated state, and this even if, just like me, you're not a fan of celtic music)... As for "Hello Earth" and its slow-motion clash between sinister Hollywood-style strings (arranged by film composer Michael Kamen) and eerie choirs interpolating a traditional Georgian lament, it just simply takes you to... space. There you can admire our fragile blue planet just the way that gigantic baby does ominously at the end of Kubrick's *2001* ("Hello, Earth... Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo..."). After such a cosmic trip, Kate seems to wake up, as if from a feverish dream, and offers us a very short coda in the shape of a miniature track, "The Morning Fog", a very lively pop song totally at odds with everything before, led by John Williams's licks on acoutic guitar. Here it sounds as if Bush is ready to start the day and join her loved ones, her long dream becoming just a distant memory in the space of seconds... Rarely have closers sounded so *both* out of place and yet so effective, in a way... But this should come as no surprise after so many twists and turns. Kate Bush is indeed an enigma, a true sorceress whose cauldron teems with sounds and colors and ideas. She's admittedly an acquired taste for many music fans. Yet legions of them will eventually come (back) to her, again and again. And "Hounds Of Love" being her most ambitious record, *both* in its experimental leanings and its pop instincts, it is obviously *the* one place where you must start if you want to know more about the damn witch. If said witch floats instead of sinking into you--namely, if this album goes over your head on the first listen--send her back to the river, and spin the record again. At some point, its spell will work on you, at least if you're open enough to sorcery. *This* is a wizard's promise... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 880 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 65 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 29 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 27

This one often comes up in lists of best records ever (or just best *jazz* records, but given the gaping holes in Dimery's list in that specific genre, you can't expect it to be fully taken seriously anyway...). Towards the end of her life, Billie had the idea to record her own "In The Wee Small Hours", and when you listen to the lush strings orchestration around her gracile, fragile voice, it sure seemed like a great idea on paper. Holiday was no Sinatra, especially at this point of her broken life, so the overall effect is altogether different from Frank's crooning. But whatever huge fans of Lady Day's might first think of *Lady In Satin*'s overall concept, they must absolutely listen to this album at least once in their lives, that's for sure... Yet can the same be said for fans of music in general? For me there are at least two records from Holiday's fifties period that should be listened to first, *before this one*, if only for the timeless jazz standards that can be found in them. The first is *Stay With Me*, a generally lively, big band record which can boast of great versions of "Ain't Misbehaving", "Everything Happens To Me" and "Say It Isn't So". And the second is the very melancholic *Lady Sings The Blues*, with wondrous cuts such as the title track, "Love Me Or Leave Me", "Too Marvelous For Words", but most especially a poignant and very melodramatic take on her legendary "Strange Fruit", one of the best protest songs ever written throughout history. Compared to those timeless standards, the compositions of *Lady In Satin* sound a bit lackluster and samey, in spite (or maybe actually *because*) of their classy " third stream" orchestration. The writer of these lines prefers to hear a "rawer", back-to-blues-basic, version of Lady Day, no matter how raw her vocal performance actually is on this record. Which implies a tracklising a little more focused and dynamic than the one found in *Lady In Satin*, even if "dynamic" will never ne the right word for Billie Holiday's nonchalant art... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 879 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 65 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 30 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 27

The mere fact that two decades in since the start of her musical career, and after all the great albums she put out, PJ Harvey managed to conceptualize, write, and record one of the top three LPs she's ever released justifies the presence of "Let England Shake" in this list. What we have here is a very rare animal. It's a loose concept album about war and its weight on the English collective consciousness, but this admittedly ambitious conceit never goes in the way of the overall musicality and individual strength of the songs gathered for said record's tracklist. Those songs are indeed some of the most memorable she ever penned, between the lively numbers "Let England Shake", "The Words That Maketh Murder" (and its infectious male background vocals by Mick Harvey and longtime producer John Parish), and the cavalry horn-propelled "In The Glorious Lands", not to mention all the poignant ballads interspersed in the middle of thdm ("The Last Living Rose" and "All And Everyone" come to mind here, even if none of those already great cuts can can match with "In The Dark Places" and its epic finale--hear those moving voices lamenting about a world born out of WW1 trenches and weep, dear listener). Parish's production of those admirable compositions is balanced, dynamic and subtle--rarely has auto-harp in a "rock" album sounded so good before--and Polly Jean's vocal performance is one-of-a-kind--each inflexion of her voice, from shrill and eccentric adlibs to lower and more grounded moments, clearly telling the listener that she is inhabited by many different characters in the course of her musical yarn. Add lush brass to the mix as a colorful conterpoint, and the end result is one of the best albums of the 2010s, and certainly the best record of 2011. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 878 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 66 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 30 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 27

I've often grumbled against the glaring omissions in the jazz selections of this list, but with this particular album, I'm forced to admit that Dimery and co. simply dug gold. I'm not a jazz specialist, just an open-minded amateur, so I didn't know who Abdullah Ibrahim/Dollar Brand was at all. Therefore, I've listened to this record with absolutely zero expectations, and I must say I'm totally enthralled by it now. It started off in quite a subdued way, though. At first, "Mandela" sounded a little too big band-like, almost too quaint to my ears, in spite of the obviously important theme suggested by its name, especially coming from a South African musician. But then each track that followed grasped my attention in a different way, from the gentleness of "Song For Sathima" and the driven focus of "Marenberg Revisited" (a variation on an important musical milestone written by Ibrahim more than a decade earlier--and a significant instrumental statement against Apartheid), and this continuing up to the arabic flavors of "Tuang Guru" and the heartwrenching finale of the short ballad "The Wedding". Closer "Sameena" was also a huge surprise in the way its minimalistic, nearly atonal introduction on brass and winds steadily grew into a meditative piece that ensnared my ear up until the very last Just like for pianist Ibrahim, I didn't know the other performers on this record either, but they're all doing an excellent job conveying the myriad emotions and colors gathered in this tight, tight package. *Water From An Ancient Well*'s scope is so impressive, and its tracklisting is so dynamic--so varied yet so cohesive too--that it instantly got a 5-star mark from me. This sort of thing doesn't often happen, so you can be sure I'll return to that proverbial well from time to time... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 877 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 67 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 30 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 27

Had this suggestion been *Breakfast In America*, which is obviously part of Dimery's list with its string of timeless hits, I might have considered including this particular record in my own list of 1001 albums to listen to. But here, in the case of *Crime Of The Century*, and apart from "Dreamer" in it, there are no timeless hits to speak of. Good records can't only be build on them, admittedly, otherwise they would be "best of" albums... But the snag for *Crime Of the Century* is that more than half of the cuts in it are not particularly compelling: their overall production and a lot of the instrumentation and arrangements have aged poorly, to be honest, leaving a somewhat bland taste on the tongue. Besides, other reference points to describe this record are always detrimental to it. Supertramp are sort of prog rock, but they can't instill a truly evocative and ambient atmosphere the way Pink Floyd did. Or they can't play with time shifts and rock out like Yes, for instance. Plus, they're kinda soft-rock, but there are none of the melodic twists and turns or off-kilter chord changes that made Steely Dan the somewhat enigmatic band they were. There are a few lively moments in this tracklisting (apart for "Dreamer", mostly the end sections of "School", "Rudy" and the title track). But those peaks can't make up for the overall snorefest plains running all the way to the horizon elsewhere. At times, listening to this album feels like being that guy locked behind interdimensional bars on its cover. You think something interesting or exciting might be about to start. But it very rarely does, actually. And so you're stuck in limbo. That doesn't make this album the *musical* "crime of the century", I'll grant you that. But that doesn't make it a mandatory listen either. The only thing that can save Supertramp is when their songwriting is direct enough to mark your memory--which was the case for the four hits of *Breakfast In America*, plus a few other cuts in it, making it a more consequential album. At least they managed to leave their imprint on pop culture thanks to their singles, which very few acts can do, at least to this extent. By the way, and on this subject precisely, there's also "The Very Best Of Supertramp" available out there. Listen to it first, *and then*, if you're really digging it, see for yourself if the rest is right up your alley... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 876 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 67 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 30 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28 (including this one)

From the British Wave parody "So You Want To Be A Rock'n'Roll Star" (with frenzy screams of fans and all) to the genuine hits "Have You Seen Her Face", "The Girl With No Name" and "Why", from the lively "C.T.A.-102" continuing previous album's "Mr Spaceman" sci-fi streak (including space alien gibberish at the end), to the mystical heights of "Mind Gardens", and from California to the rest of the world, this record is quite the wild ride into an exhilarating sixties theme park. There's a even one mandatory Bob Dylan cover ("My Back Pages"), but this time the Byrds didn't even need those sorts of cover to flesh out the tracklisting. Probably because contrary to other LPs in the past, they now had everything at hand as in-house songwriters. *5th Dimension* had already set the psychedelic tone of an era. *Younger Than Yesterday* could now capitalize on that tone, and take things further. As far as I'm concerned, said things went downhill from that point on. *The Notorious Byrd Brothers* still had great moments, and was reputedly groundbreaking in terms of production. But the individual songs in it were hit-or-miss for me. And I'm not even talking of that weird full-on country mode of that other famous album that followed after... But to come back to this particular record, which I still find very endearing (including for its minor misfires), it is also one to listen to on the strength of only *one* of its songs, i.e. the mesmerizing and melancholic "Everybody's Been Burned", probably one of the best compositions David Crosby ever penned (and also one of his most moving performances as a singer). This song best exemplifies what's great about the whole opus: it's cinematic *and* heartfelt, firmly set in a time and place but also timeless. Listen to it and weep. This is the epitome of The Byrds' early career, and as such, it should be part of this list, obviously. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 875 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 68 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 30 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

Last time I reviewed Todd Rundgren, it was for *Something/Anything*, and I complained that even with his brilliant production chops, Todd's music was not "abrasive" or "leftfield" enough to make up for his *relatively* lackluster talent as a writer of memorable tunes and as a performer. This double album displayed a lot of imagination, sure. But that imagination still gave birth to a somewhat by-the-numbers result, in spite of the vast array of genres tackled. Apart from a very few choice cuts here and there, most of those tracks indeed bordered on muzak or elevator music, unfortunately. And it was a chore to go through them honestly. Well, it now sounds as if Rundgren heard *some* of my complaints as I uttered them from the future. If there's one clear asset to *A Wizard / A True Star* (which followed *Something / Anything*), it is that, this time, its production and sonic signature can't be blamed for NOT being "leftfield" or "abrasive" enough. Those sounds are nothing short of astounding, even today--the record is designed to be a purveyor of many classic hip hop or electro beats (proof that it has aged very well), and one can thus easily picture Animal Collective or MGMT doing the exact same sort of music during the 21st century. The first side is almost entirely comprised of short crazy musical psychedelic interludes segueing one into the next, so no one can accuse Rundgren of going the safe way here when it comes to compositions at least. In other words, those 'shrooms must have been particularly potent, that's for sure... On the whole this record is therefore a far more consistent effort than the previous (double) LP, as lopsided and zany as its individual tracks sound. Of course, beyond the multilayered instrumentation and production, there's still the songwriter issue. Going for moods and sonic landscapes, Rundgren doesn't have to worry a lot about that this time, but a few more *real* songs sprinkled in the middle of that wild ride would have *also* been a welcome respite, and made the whole thing far more accessible. Side 2 still has a few of them, even if a third of those more classic cuts are actually covers of soul staples assembled in a medley that comes a little out of nowhere (but in a way, that's keeping with the generally crazy tone and intent of the album, obviously). The most impressive "song", "Zen Archer", is towards the end of side 1 anyway, and it can at least boast of a grand finale that's quite important to make sense of the collage mess that came before. "Is It My Name?" is also a nice rocker, reminiscent of The Who. If only Rundgren had added something that had the level of "Couldn't I Just Tell You" in terms of intensity to those proceedings, the whole thing would hold up far better today that it does now. But that awesome power pop track stayed buried in the middle of the long-winded nonsense of *Something/Anything* instead (rather than *shining* in the middle of THAT shorter sort of nonsense). Another missed opportunity... So it's often a glorious mess, but it's a mess nonetheless. One can easily see how Rundgren became an endearing name for many, and besides, the man was groundbreaking, there's no denying about that. So this is *probably* a record everyone should listen to at least once. But is it *aimed* at everyone? And can enough listeners really dig into all that crazy stuff and not turn mad (at it, or just plain mad)? This remains to be seen, honestly... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 874 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 68 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 31 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

You can always trust Herbie Hancock for finding a new groove, and dig gold out of it. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 873 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 69 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 31 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

*To those it may concern: all parents should be very careful not to let their offspring be exposed to this lewd and loud individual making this mind-numbing racket that passes off as music these days. Our (white) children must absolutely be kept away as far away as possible from such degenerate and obscene self-appointed 'artists'. The future of our society is at stake...* This up here, is probably what most conservatives thought during the fifties. Of course, now, it's just good old rock n' roll. Yet let's not be mistaken... Such close-mindedness and ignorance still exists today. It's just that conservatives should not be listened to when it comes to art anyway. History always proves them wrong. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 872 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 70 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 31 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

Browsing through the reviews in here, it's striking to see that almost no participant bothered to write a long one this time. I take it as a sign that most listeners decided to show respect for this historical relic in one way or another (hence its nice 3-point-something overall score), but that not all of them were personally enthused. And now that I have listened to this album from start to end, I think I'm gonna do the same and make it short. Not every song in here is as memorable as "I've Got You Under My Skin". But it's still an iconic sort of record, and some of the orchestral arrangements slap very hard, actually more than in the drowsier *In The Wee Small Hours*. Overall, swinging Sinatra holds out better than balladeer Sinatra today. Oh, except for *one* later song, "It Was A Very Good Year", one of my favorite ballads of all time, far from all those christmas-sort-of-standards Frank *also* specialized in. But that song is gonna come up later in Old Blue Eyes' career if I'm not mistaken... In the meantime, and as far as albums are concerned, *Songs For Swingin' Lovers* deserves its reputation as a record filled with the best of what the big-band-propelled genre has to offer. Way to go, Frankie! Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 871 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 71 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 31 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

It took me a long time to "get" Beach House. Just like the ineffable cover of this album, their songs (and the way they're produced) look very samey at first glance, but the more you actively delve into them, the more some of their charms become visible. That being said, the overall effect of such strand of dream pop is still hit-or-miss for me, just like that zebra pattern, once again. Even if a song like "Zebra", to stay on that very idea, proves that duo knows what they are doing, at least. Chord changes alternate between minor and major modes in ways that can make the whole thing mysterious and addictive, keeping with the fluctuating pattern of said artwork. And with the right set of ears (not too bothered by the overabundance of high-end frequencies), the unobtrusive, polished production of *Teen Dream* then soon becomes a lesson in subtlety and restraint. Quite remarkable, even if not *downright* remarkable. For what it's worth, this record is probably the band's masterpiece, thanks to standout tracks such as the one mentioned before, "Norway", "10 Mile Stereo" and "Take Care". The rest passes by quite nicely as background music. And when it comes to Beach House's whole discography, add *7* to *Teen Dream*, and maybe *Bloom* or even this year's *Once Twice Melody*, and you'll have a good idea of what Beach House can do when they are at the peak of their powers. After that, it's only for hardcore fans, really... Some dreams can't go on forever, can they? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 870 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 72 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 31 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

In its 90s pop-punk genre, *Dookie* is simply put, THE quintessential album. Offering earworms after earworms (such as obvious examples "Longview", "Basket Case" or "Welcome To Paradise"), and far more subtle in their tunes and arrangements than other so-called household names of said genre (from The Offspring to Blink 41/Sum 182 nonsense), Green Day just simply released a perfect record, one that also aged far better than the half-baked "operatic" pretensions of *American Idiot* a few albums later. Of course, behind Green Day and the likes, there's a large constellation of other, less famous melodic punk acts that are worth a detour as you and your skate are rolling from one spot to the next throughout the city. NOFX especially comes to mind, thanks to their brilliant and sardonic songwriting. Green Day is not as fast and furious as the latter, admittedly, yet both bands still share many skills when it comes to memorable melodies and snarling words. And since NOFX will never be part of such lists for some reason, you gotta give a 5-star award to the closest thing to them, at least. It's finally done. Hope others do too, here. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 869 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 73 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 31 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

Leonard Cohen's debut album was a masterpiece that came out of nowhere, announcing the arrival of a new singular wordsmith to the wider world--as well as a skilled crafter of timeless tunes. After such an unmitigated success, it was obviously harder for the Canadian songwriter to catch the same lightning in a bottle twice. While a fine LP, 1969's *Songs from a Room* ultimately feels less assured than *Songs of Leonard Cohen*. Compared to John Simon's illuminating production on the latter, the one Bob Johnston crafted for the debut is filled with quirkier choices--that jaw harp marking the beat on several tracks, those off-kilter synth sounds grinding their way in the background of "A Bunch Of Lonesome Heroes", or that bizarre recorder flute drunkenly supporting Leonard's whistling in the last 30 seconds of closer "Tonight Will Be Fine"... With such weird details around them, Cohen's characters sound even more like the true misfits they are. The intent is therefore topically interesting, but unfortunately music suffers from it. Depending on their mileage on such things, listeners might find those instrumentation choices we've just mentioned up there either charming or annoying, and the same goes for some of the vocal performances here. Cohen's singing and meter are more tentative and uncertain than on his other work from that period, especially the debut, and especially when he struggles to reach notes on the higher end of his naturally deep, low register. As for the overall quality of those *Songs from a Room*, surely it is a little more uneven than the ones on *Songs of Leonard Cohen* or *Songs Of Love And Hate*. "Seems Like So Long Ago, Nancy", "You Know Who I Am," and "The Story of Isaac" are for instance very nice, but "The Butcher" and "Tonight Will Be Fine" simply aren't up to his usual standards. Said standards are however aptly represented through two cuts that are now part of Cohen's classic repertoire, "Bird On The Wire" and "The Partisan". "Bird On The Wire" is, simply put, another quintessential Leonard Cohen song, as frail as the singer's voice is on this one--even if such flaws may also have their charms, as we suggested earlier... In keeping with the performance, the tune is moving, sardonic, touching, evocative and witty all at the same time. And speaking of performance, that minimalistic and yet heartwrenching cover of the war song "Le Chant Des Partisans"--including that coda Cohen is singing in the original French language, supported by female background vocals--proves the "less is more" philosophy can actually yield truly epic results. Despite the album's flaws, such iconic moments convey a naked intimacy and fearless emotional honesty that's every bit as powerful as the debut, and left no doubt that Cohen was a major creative force in contemporary songwriting in the early seventies. I stole those last words from someone else in this group, but it was so rightly put that I couldn't refrain from doing so. If I had to rephrase this idea my way, I'd say that as far as albums go, *Songs From A Room* isn't the most obvious entry point onto Cohen's oeuvre, but if we had to pick individual songs so as to prove the immensity of his talent, you and I can find gold there, too. I'm pretty sure the reviewer whose words I borrowed here would agree, at least... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 868 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 73 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 32 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

"Ah-one, two, three, four!" Four stars, then. If only for this. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 867 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 74 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 32 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

An interesting listen, especially since it's the first band of Sonic Boom and the founder of Spiritualized, whose appeal to many listeners I have never been able to understand. Consequently, I thought I would hate this album too... but against all odds, I did *not*. Most of the minimalistic, ambient tracks can hypnotize you quite well if you are in the right mood or mindset for this, and the rockier cuts such as "Revolution" or "Suicide" are doing a nice job quoting or mimicking stuff by The Stooges, The Jesus And Mary Chain, MC5 and... Suicide, obviously! Just like the latter, Spaceman 3 are here using only one single chord and haunted howlings for five minutes, but those 5 minutes still manage to fly by, miraculously. So sure, "Playing With Fire" might come off as an easy thing to do, but doing those sorts of record is actually riskier than it seems. At least if you don't want to get burned. :) Is this record an *essential* listen, though? As of now, the jury's still out on that. As much as one can appreciate the barebones atmosphere and witty references to past acts, there's still the sneaking suspicion that the project was a little too derivative to be positively compared to its models. Music fans might opt to go directly to the sources that so clearly inspired Spaceman 3 here. Especially today... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 866 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 74 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 33 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

"Richard III", its punk impetus and its sly theremin; "Tonight" and its addictive chorus: "Sun Hits The Sky" and its relentless drive propelling you to rock heavens--those tracks are among the best Supergrass ever penned and played, which explains why some listeners might think *In It For The Money* should be on this list. I guess I'm happy to see it here, too, if only for its sardonic cover, which perfectly encapsulates what's fun about this band... That being said, I can still understand how sone other listeners less versed in britpop could question such inclusion. Most of the other tracks are not as striking as the ones we've quoted before, in spite of Supergrass's skills as composers and performers. Some songs even veer dangerously close to a sort of dad-rock that, even in the nineties, already sounded a little derivative compared to other stuff that was happening in the indie world at that time. Besides, well-versed craft does not always lead to memorable tunes. Those songs are alright of course... But they're not "Alright". Not by a long shot. What saves Supergrass is obviously their unpretentious posture, here combined with imaginative chords, obvious winks to the past, and sudden heartfelt intents. It's an alliance between left brain and right brain that is rarely witnessed in the rock world at large. The whole thing might be slightly ironic, or maybe it isn't ironic at all, who knows? Read the title of this record again, and you'll get the idea. Logically enough, the jury's still out that one. At least for now... Maybe a few more spins will help me decide if there's still room for Gaz Coombes and co. in my little pantheon of keepers, In the meantime, it was a fun record to revisit. That's gotta count for something, I guess... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 865 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 74 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 34 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 28

Why go to Taylor Swift painfully trying to build some sort of indie folk cred for herself? (the strategy is clear here: she's got to cater for her aging target audience) And more importantly, why go to her when you can go for the real thing, i.e. Other Lives, Weyes Blood, Aldous Harding or Big Thief? My take is that 80% of the audience falling for this sort of album does not know the first thing about what's going on on the margins of the mainstream music industry these days... And yes, that *does* include the writers of this list, who clearly lost most of the plot when it comes to recent stuff. You can bet your cowboy boots the acts I've quoted up there (especially Big Thief) will leave a far more memorable trace in music history than Swift's half-baked attempt to sound, well, "authentic". And it's not *all* about being a gatekeeper for certain genres, I'm also speaking in musical terms here. When Swift's voice is not bland, it tries too hard to inject feelings to her lame vocal lines. Everything is glossy--way too polished for an indie record--the songwriting looks as if it was done through corporate commitees (guess what, it was, contrary to what the official credits are saying--just listen out to those who are in the known on such things), and so, logically enough, the overall result is just boring as hell. I'd rather go to her pop albums of the early 10s. At least, I would find something that makes sense there, even if it's not exactly to my liking. And for those who might argue that her collaborators do have that indie cred I can't see anywhere in here, maybe they should start to reconsider their knowledge in the indie folk genre (to me, The National and post-*For Emma Forever Ago* Bon Iver are overrated anyway, so they can't really save Taylor from this debacle desperately trying to sound like an artistic breakthrough). Awesome PR work on the part of her agents if you're thinking of using this argument here. To each their own and the likes, so I guess you can like this thing, of course. But to me, trying to defend *evermore*'s artistic merits falls in either one of these two categories: a. your knowledge of current music is lacking. b. you're mostly focusing on the lyrics (nothing wrong about them of first listens), and consequently, you're not too bothered by unsurprising, linear melodies and all-too-safe production choices that don't have a shred of personality in them. Your call. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 864 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 74 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 34 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 29 (including this one)

And here I was complaining about Taylor Swift's inclusion on this list. As much as the 1001 albums book is lost when it comes to *recent* masterpieces, its writers know their stuff about the past, at least when it comes the rock genre. Alexander "Skip" Pence's *Oar* is indeed a hidden treasure--a bold, raw, often visionary statement from an artist on the brink of madness. Moby Grape being a rock band I find horribly bland and unoriginal compared to its more famous peers from the sixties, I would never have thought of checking out this solo effort from one of their most deranged members without this 1001 album project. And because of haunting songs such as "Little Hands", "Diana" and "Book Of Moses", I'm so glad I did now. Some of Spence's cuts here even pave the way towards the future, from the proto-krautrock-tinged "Gray/Afro" to the pre-Radiohead-like "War In Peace" and its awe-inducing chord changes and guitar flourishes. Interspersed between those highlights are a number of songs going from the eccentric to the downright sinister, with a voice that's unpredictable from one track to the next. The whole is thus an uncompromising picture of the psychological hardships this American Syd Barrett went through. His life story is a very sad one, but at least we can rejoice he was able to leave this recording, a very unique one, in all senses of the word. Madness being a part of the human experience, all of this makes *Oar* a compelling album, both musically and artistically. So I'm happy I can now place this one next to other misunderstood folk misfits or psychedelic oucasts such as Barrett, Nick Drake, Mark Fry, and The Incredible String Band. Thanks, Dimery and co. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 863 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 75 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 34 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 29

"Blue Suede Shoes", the covers of "I Got A Woman" and "Tutti Frutti", that incredibly moody "Blue Moon" ballad... Here are a few of the highlights from Elvis' historical first LP. Everything here points to a landmark album, contrary to that "Elvis Is Back" record that's also part of this list for reasons that have more to do with marketing than genuine influence. This one is the soundtrack *par excellence* for every American diner out there, from Memphis to Tokyo. Of course, Elvis is not the originator of true rock n' roll, African Americans were. But it's hard to deny the appeal and cultural imprint this seminal record left on... well, almost *everything* that came right after it! And even far later than that (see the lettering on the cover of The Clash's *London Calling*, for instance...) So 5 stars, if only for that. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 862 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 76 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 34 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 29

Yes, this record is the utimate summation of Britishness during the nineties--with a lot of it still relevant today, from cynicism about everyday life in England to sudden bursts of romanticism and hope. Iconic AND lively. And essential for fans of British rock at large. But beyond its topical contents, *Parklife* is first and foremost an incredibly adventurous album transcending its original britpop genre like no other record before. What a ride it is, from the exhilarating disco parody of "Girls And Boys" up to epic closer "This Is A Low" (I swear I can sense the wind blowing across the white cliffs of Dover or Brighton when I'm listening to this one). And this counting everything in between, of course, including all those wonderful earworms along the way ("Tracy Jacks", " End of A Century", "To The End", or that insanely cinematic title track and its hilarious unreliable narrator--foretelling stuff like Yard Act in 2022). A great, great album that honors that old Kinks tradition in ways that can make Albarn, Coxon, James and Rowntree proud today. And the best LP Blur has ever released, period (with the eponymous one in tow right behind it). On a sidenote: I'm also a huge fan of Mogwai, and so felt quite saddened when the latter tried to ignite a war of words with Blur at the end of the nineties (as if those two bands were from the same sort of league anyway...). I've just read today that Stuart Braithwaite kind of admitted all of this was a little immature on his part, that he actually met Grahan Coxon quite a few times since the time of that quickly-aborted public feud, and that Coxon has been nothing but awfully nice to him, even with that story between them... At least *one* member of Blur is a high-class act, or so it seems... I'm only telling this story to raise one little question: how come there's no album by Mogwai to be seen anywhere on this list? What do Dimery and co. have against post-rock and other similar genres like that? Beats me, really... Maybe they were such fans of Blur that they decided to boycott a whole genre as a retaliatory measure, ha ha. If that's the case, well, come on, guys, please reconsider. It's all water under the bridge now, is it not? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 861 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 77 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 34 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 29

The very definition of "wallpaper music", in ways that even Brian Eno couldn't have envisioned when he coined that term 25 years earlier. Too bad that... a) The beats and synth licks behind those blues samples have aged so poorly. b) Those tracks have been so ubiquitous in ads and You Tube videos that nobody in their right mind should want to play them in their living rooms now. A more positive assessment would say that Moby's talent is undeniable when it came to the way he selected those blues samples so as to create so many earworms. Side A is very impressive in that regard. Each and every track has imprinted its mark on the audience's consciousness, thanks to all those ads and videos using them. And all things considered, side B's less known tracks are still cohesively conceived and edited compared to A. My mood is generous today, so I'm gonna give a neutral grade. Because that wallpaper is well-crafted. Even if it's still wallpaper, at the end of the day. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 860 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 77 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 35 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 29

I'm gonna copy and paste an excerpt of the wikipedia article, which perfectly encapsulates what I'm thinking about this one: "Other critics were less favorable. David Browne of Entertainment Weekly was intrigued by "You Oughta Know" but found the rest of Jagged Little Pill "much harder to swallow", continuing, "What sounds arresting on a single grows wearing over a full album. Producer-co-songwriter Glen Ballard's arrangements are clunky mixtures of alternative mood music and hammy arena rock, and the 21-year-old Morissette tends to wildly oversing every other line." Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune wrote that Morissette "strives for catharsis but often merely sounds histrionic". When listing the album at 45 on the "100 Best Albums of the Nineties", Rolling Stone commented: "Jagged Little Pill is like a Nineties version of Carole King's Tapestry: a woman using her plain soft-rock voice to sift through the emotional wreckage of her youth, with enough heart and songcraft to make countless listeners feel the earth move"." In other words, nice topical lyrics but generally awful music. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 859 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 77 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 35 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 30 (including this one)

I only went as far as the first six albums of Black Sabbath, but the first four of those are already stone-cold masterpieces for me. The thing is, out of those four masterpieces, *Paranoid* is probably my least favorite as a whole album, in spite of its reputation. Because apart from "Planet Caravan" and its hazy atmosphere, this record is maybe a little too one-note and "basic-sounding" for me. *Masters Of The Universe* and *Vol.4* have far more dynamic tracklistings, which makes them an even more enjoyable experience for my specific ears. That being said, *Paranoid* is also a historical record, marking the true birth of the whole metal genre. I love the eponymous debut, but the latter is still hard rock, basically, i.e. blues played and processed though overdriven guitar. In comparison, it's clear that *Paranoid* goes beyond all that. And inside that historical album, "War Pigs", "Iron Man" and the title track are rightly considered as timeless anthems. So I guess I can't give this one anything less than 5 stars. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 858 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 78 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 35 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 30

Well, I'm in two minds about this one. It's got the iconic title track. But *Back In Black* is obviously the better album out of the two, and I personally don't see the point of including *more* than one AC/DC album in a list of 1001 essential records. Yes, I know those two LPs don't have the same singer (rest in peace, Bon Scott). But AC/DC sounds like such a well-trodden formula by now, with a band that never ever deviated from it, that I feel that room should be given for other sorts of styles and genres... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 857 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 78 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 36 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 30

There is a deep mystery to this album. Everything in it is so personal--the lyrics, Joni Mitchell's idiosyncratic chord changes, her high-pitched voice, never grating, but still insanely eccentric in their own way to express the "blues", her insanely good guitar playing, displaying a sense of rhythm most players would kill for--and yet, for all those subtle flourishes, the record also spoke directly to the hearts of millions of souls in the ways only a straightforward pop album could, and it continues to do so these days. I'm not even sure this is my favorite Joni Mitchell LP--sometimes, I favor *Ladies of The Canyon* when it comes to her "Reprise" years, and after that, I have an even softer spot for the lush pop overtones of *Court And Spark", or for the jazzy digressions of *Hejira*. But *Blue* is definitely an essential album everyone should listen to at least once in their lives. It was *not* my entry point to Joni's universe, curiously enough. But it's been the one of so many fans of her that you just gotta consider it for the historical album it is. And please, don't get fooled by the melodically unobtrusive and lyrically naive "All I Want" that opens this record. Because once you pass this sort of back entrance to it, you're in for a treat, and this for each and every one of those tracks. A few examples here: the subject matter of *Little Green*--Joni's lament to the child she gave up for adoption--slaps HARD. "California" and "Carey" are just perfect pop songs about Bohemian lifestyles of the seventies, and yet they're anything but *easy* compositions. The plane trip of "This Flight Tonight" is as experimental as anything she later wrote, and yet it's also *fun* to listen to. As for "River" and "A Case Of You", they're the quintessential Christmas song and love ballad, respectively, and yet they're not following any old formula. Only Joni could have written those tunes. After all these years, it's still a true mystery how she could do this. As is the overall effect of this "slow burner" on me today. Indeed, the more you fall in love with this record, the more that blue haze on the cover thickens... One for the ages, in all senses of the word. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 856 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 79 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 36 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 30

Before this project, I've once established a list of my 100 favorite albums of all time. Radiohead's *Kid A* was album number one. This record is so ingrained inside my musical consciousness that it is difficult for me to find words to express my relationship to it now. Which takes the cake, since friends and I have discussed this album for hours on end in the past, trying to use the right words to convey what makes this genius work about alienation in the postmodern world insanely great. Yet in the end, words are useless to explain the goosebumps this music can trigger when addressed to the right lonely soul. You'd have to be there with me, inside my brains, to fully understand. What do you mean, "it's impossible"? Am I not here with you right now? And aren't you with me? Is anybody else out there? This record is a paradox. *Kid A* indeed conveys a sort of emotion that is one-of-a-kind, because this emotion comes from the sheer impossibility to properly feel or express emotions themselves. And this here is not merely an intellectual take on the album. It's first a purely sensory one. Once you understand on a *gut level* that it's what this record is all about, you'll feel those goosebumps too. It may not be the greatest album of all time (some say it is), but it's certainly the greatest *frigid* album of all time. So I am now writing a music review on a phone app. It's about *Kid A*, by Radiohead. I want this review I'm about to write to be sincere and heartfelt. I want it to feel right, even if that review will only be read by people I've nor even met. Who knows, maybe that review will *never* be read anyway. Whatever the case may be, I am here confiding my feelings to a technological device. I don't feel alone, but I am. Or maybe it's the other way around. And all of this is, actually, the very subject of *Kid A*, by Radiohead. The circle is now complete. *The Bends* was the best britpop album ever, made by a band that, for all intents and purposes, were more inspired by American acts than their British peers; then came the elated and melancholic tracks of the groundbreaking *OK Computer*, a truly epic statement that opened all prog rock and electronic gates out there, not only for the band, but for most of their audiences, too. *Kid A* was the next step, but it took you to the future this time. A scary one thematically speaking, but so enticing on the musical level. The mere fact that this record about alienation in the digital world sounds as if it was mostly recorded through electronic instruments whereas 95% of it is actually analog stuff tells a lot about Radiohead's bravura and ambition here. *Kid A* deserves its reputation on all counts. Everything good that has ever been said about it is just right. Maybe you can't feel it, and in that case, I'm sorry for you. But know that it's right, somehow. I'm losing it, I have a review in mind but it doesn't make sense anymore. I'd need to cut some stuff out. I wish all those voices in my head would shut up now. Nobody's gonna send me a "thumbs up" for this one. I am a complete failure. I wish I could disappear... *Kid A* - Radiohead - 2000 Restrained and yet incredibly intense album that saw the British rock band changing gears in quite an unpredictable way, with influence going from Aphex Twin-like electronica ("Kid A") to Charles Mingus-inspired brass extravaganza on a bass-and-drum killer rythm pattern ("The National Anthem"). "Everything In Its Right Place" is just the perfect album opener, in keeping with its title and lyrics. Ballad "How To Disappear Completely" is drawing on Schönberg types of atonal glissandos on strings to tell its yarn of trauma and oblivion as a way to cope with the latter, and it is overwhelming, to say the least. "Optimistic" is the rare rock cut in the tracklisting and it's as good as anything on *OK Computer*. As for "Idiotheque" and "Morning Bell", the first is an abrasive, sardonic and yet incredibly catchy piece of electronica, and the second builds up to a climax that actually never comes, clearly emphasizing the themes of loss and disconnection the whole album points to. "Motion Picture Soundtrack"'s voice-and-orchestra-and-theremin anoints the end of the record like a soothing balm after all the crazy shenanigans before, and it is the stuff dreams are made of. A stunning album by all counts. Favorite tracks: everything, even " Treefingers" and "Limbo", even if I consider them more like interludes. Gosh, what is this crap? Why can't Radiohead just play stuff like "Creep" anymore? Pretentious posers... The A in "Kid A" is A for Adorno. Radiohead just applied the German philosopher's negative metaphysics to their nineties rock formula, and this is what came out of it. They *are* indeed pretentious posers. But being quite a negative sort of person myself, I can't help loving them for having the balls to do this. Oh my god, this album is soooooo cool. Reminds me of that 2000 summer holiday with Mark, Alex and Ruddy. We would smoke joints in the afternoon and drink bottles of wine in the evening, and get lost in those hypnotic sonic landscapes until the wee small hours of the morning. Good times. 5 stars. I'm not here, this isn't happening... 18/07/2022. I'm in the south of France, near Avignon, for two weeks of camping there. There are not enough trees in this campsite to protect us from the sun. Fortunately, this cold, cold record is a breath of fresh air to my soul. 5 stars. For the album that is, not the camping site. Slow apocalypse in the manner of TS Eliot ("not with a bang, but with a whimper"), and it has never sounded any better than here. One for the ages. Or what's left of them. I'm having a panic attack just listening to this thing. Whoever praised this record is just a masochistic nutcase. 1 star. You can try the best you can, you can try the best you can, the best you can ain't good enough. Does that mean I should try harder for this album. Or maybe this review? Un album magnifique, qui a donné lieu à une des plus fameuses batailles d'Hernani de l'histoire du rock. Deux décennies ont passé, et les fans ont gagné. Brilliant. I now understand why Frank Ocean loves Radiohead. Those girlfriends of his should just shut up and let him chill out. I had never listened to a full Radiohead album before. They're a cool electronic act. Oddly enough, I always confused them with another band that had a similar name. What was it again? Talking Heads? Weird that I can't remember. 4 stars. Mais um ótimo disco do Radiohead. produção impecável. Sem tantos hits, mas demonstra bem o caminho musical deles. Braucht man eigentlich nicht viel dazu zu sagen. Über-Album. "Kid A"--the title track--is the best depiction of the ramblings of a depressive IA ever put to tape. Come to think of it, it's the ONLY depiction of the ramblings of a depressive IA ever put to tape. From that early point on the album, after the iconic "Everything In Its right Place", you just know everything after is gonna be fantastic. Surely an essential listen if there is one. Seguramente es que no estoy capacitado para entender esta música. Incluso la canción que se titula optimismo, me da ganas de encerrarme en casa tras la ventana para ver cómo llueve y pensar en el asco que me da todo el mundo. One of the best albums of all times. Enough said. Here I'm alive Everything all of the time Here I'm alive Everything all of the time I feel like I'm in the eye of a cyclone listening to this record. Everything is "in its right place" and yet the winds of hell are blowing outside of hypnotic auditory 10 kilometers radius I'm in right now. I can sense them coming. Oh lord, help me. I'm lost at sea Don't bother me I've lost my way I've lost my way The static of our modern lives has never been so beautifully represented than in this album. The cover says it all. Is this a chain of majestuous moutains looming on the horizon, or a pixellated simulacrum of them? Whatever the case may be, here you are, floating towards them? What the hell is this? There must something wrong in my headphones, this just can't be a Radiohead album. It doesn't rock, and the ballads are insipid. 0 stars. Ice Age coming, Ice Age coming Let me hear both sides Let me hear both sides, let me hear both The first time I listened to this recording, I was like, "what?". The second time I had shudders down my spine for the whole time. I And subsequent listens have *never" worn out this album for me. Five stars. We're not scaremongering This is really happening, happening We're not scaremongering This is really happening, happening Yes, I do "think you're crazy", Thom. But madness has never sounded so beautiful and heartfelt. *Kid A* can go to hell. Heck, this is what hell sounds like for me, so I guess said kid never left it anyway. Next! Another message I can't read Another message I can't read Another message I can't read Another message I can't read Can someone in here contact me? I'm afraid the review I have in mind for this record will be too long for this app to memorize it anyway. Ooops, I'm out of battery on my phone right now, could you at least tell me if I can downl Mobiles skwerking, mobiles chirping Take the money and run Take our money and run, take our money When I'm so tired that I can't sleep, this is what all music sounds like to my ears. This album led the way to everything that came after it. Yet nothing that came after it was *this* good. I don't like this. What the hell is wrong with me? Nice background music. Three stars. A stone-cold masterpiece. Well, "stone-freezing" would be more like it. What's this with this strange drone a few silent moments after "Motion Picture Soundtrack"? I think I must have dreamed it before. But was that dream mine of yours? Hello? Are you still reading this? Hello? Same here. But I don't know *when* this last review was posted. Is there someone still alive here in this group? They said the world ended on the radio yesterday. I didn't see any of their heads though. And I'm all alone now. This network is still on. Or so it seems. Can anyone read me? Hello? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... *This was fun to write. I hope some of you out there had at least a little fun too as you read all my nonsense up here. Good night.* And now the usual closing credits: Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 855 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 80 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 36 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 30 As a bonus, here's the review I *really* wanted to post about "The Bends", also by Radiohead. The one I posted here was botched, clearly. I think its revision here might be slightly better: "Radiohead - The Bends "Creep" saved Radiohead. This single came from a half-baked album, *Pablo Honey*, clumsily mixing britpop with some more "American" influences. But "Creep" was a hit and showed Radiohead they had it in them to make a record for the ages. And since the Oxford quintet was not afraid to take a long, hard look at what they had just done with their first LP (a mindset they would mostly keep for their whole career, up until today), they knew what needed to be done. A perfect balance between self-confidence and self-criticism was the key. And it opened a door that led to one of the most brilliant discographies ever put to tape. In the course of this discography, *The Bends* is therefore Radiohead's first masterpiece (there's been five of them by my count, but first times always have their peculiar charm, don't they?), here aptly mixing twisted rockers and heartwrenching ballads. Everything is stellar in it--the songwriting, the lyrics, the vocal performances, the intricate bass-and-guitar arrangements, John Leckie's clean yet no-nonsense production. To say the tracklisting is "dynamic" doesn't even start to explain how songs segue into one another, starting with the gooovy "Planet Telex", followed by the intense title-track with its thick wall of guitars, and then going to all the gems of this record--the melancholic "High And Dry", the devastatingly beautiful "Fake Plastic Trees", the tight and angular "Just", the sinister and sardonic "My Iron Lung" (and its guitar hook spun on you as if it were a cobweb), not to mention the epic and poignant closer "Fade Out", with its elegiac arpeggio and truly *haunted* chorus. Thom Yorke and friends tick all the boxes that need to be ticked when you want to record a legendary album : they know when to get topical, with whiffs of a dystopian atmosphere that will further be explored in *OK Computer* and *Kid A*, and they sweep through a large array of (indie) rock styles, from brit pop to US alt-rock, from grunge to torch songs. And more importantly, they know how to make the whole thing sound cohesive, every vocal intention and guitar lick serving a discourse that transcends style or genres.  So just like OK Computer, there's no filler, no malfunctioning ride in this ominous and melancholic theme park about alienated souls stranded in the middle of late capitalism--each track has something unique going on for it, even the ones not mentionned up there. But this is no surprise (and no alarm, to quote a later song). Just as opener "Planet Telex" states it, Radiohead are never sounding better than when they lament that "everything is broken", only to pick up those disparate pieces and shape them into a single body of work that's unique, moving and relevant. They're THE postmodernist rock band of the late nineties / early aughts. And as such, they deserve to have their seats at the table of the greatest acts ever... "

Hold on. Is this list actually based on the book "1001 *Elevator Music Albums* You Must Hear Before You Die", edited by Robert Schmuck and Associates at the Cheesefest Corporation, Inc.? 1980 is just three years after the 1977 punk explosion. I can't imagine how many fans of truly vital music (or just simply decent one) must have rolled on to the floor with laughter while listening to this ridiculous stuff. I'm rolling right now as I'm writing these words. It' s nOt easy to whrite by the waY, butt its becuz of the unconttttrolabble fits of laughTer I'm Xperincin rite noW. Now that I've stopped laughing and regained my spirits, I can maybe admit I was unfair in my first assessment up here. *Elevator Music* might be too narrow as an umbrella genre to describe the sounds and performance on this record. This thing can also work for the phone, actually. As in "Your call is very important to us. Please hold the line". Yeah right... You know they actually don't give a rat's ass about you and your problems when they choose this sort of music and make you go through those long minutes of ordeal as you're waiting for someone--anyone--to pick up the line. Guess the only correct tag for this sort of thing is "Music For People Who Have Bad Taste". And for once, I'm ready to fight tooth and nail to prove that such a supposedly harsh assessment is actually nothing but objective here. Let's just be a little serious for one second. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 854 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 80 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 36 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 31 (including this one)

Behind the idiosyncratic sounds of early 80s post punk/new wave--which have aged quite well given the revival surge of these sounds occuring in the British scene these days--, behind the experimental drive borrowing a lot of disparate elements here and there, from Glam Rock and Surf Rock to traditional Burundi rythms and Tex Mex / Western Country twangs, behind all those endearing and/or hypnotic details, there's one thing that this record displays that's cruelly missing in a lot of the more obscure cuts sometimes suggested by Dimery's list among well-known landmarks: infectious pop melodies. They're here played with an undeniable sense of fun, and the end result is here a record which is anything but pretentious, and yet manages to impress you from the get-go with its manifold stylistic twists and turns. I was barely aware of who Adam Ant was before his name popped up on this app. From what I hear, his overall discography will be quite hit or miss for me. But it only took one exhilarated spin of this particluar record to make the latter a new late-70s/early-80s favorite of mine, along with the greatest albums of Siouxsie And The Banshees, Wire, The Cure, Bauhaus, Gang Of Four, The Clash, The Damned, This Heat and the likes. An awesome discovery. Whoever in Dimery's team was in charge of that specific scene has great taste. I will thank him forever, along with the creator of this app. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 853 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 81 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 36 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 31

Never quite understood the appeal X had on the early LA punk scene (along with the one it had on rock critics such as Christgau and the likes). Guess you had to be there at the time to get what's special about them. They're a more-than-decent act *objectively speaking*, but to me their overall sound and aesthetics are still too tame for bona fide punk--and not nearly intense enough compared to what was done in that genre at the time--while their melodies and unimaginative chord changes often lack the inventivity and/or catchiness that's required for more regular (indie-)rock bands. It's sort of a lose-lose situation for me. I suspect those 50s rockabilly influences, so endearing to X's fans, are also to blame here. They make the whole thing sound as a very derivative exercise, even though you never feel that the latter was at least *fun* to play (like it was for The Cramps or The B-52s). Or maybe Ray Manzarek's somewhat bland and linear production is at fault here. An ex-Door producing punk albums is an idea that has always sounded a little suspicious to my ears. I swear that I didn't know about that when I explored X's back catalogue and listened to that string of records he produced for them, always finding the whole thing a little too generic for me. But I have a sneaking suspicion he was not the best choice for the band... I have to say that X is far from being a ridiculous band, however. And browsing through their early discography, it's easy to see why singling out this particular record (along with the debut released before it) is a no-brainer. There are some nice cuts on "Wild Gift" ("White Girl", "We're Desperate", "In This House That I Call Home", "When our Love Passed Out on The Couch"), even if there's nothing in it that relatively similar acts such as The B-52s and The Violent Femmes haven't said more convincingly. One of the assets of this album is clearly the charming vocal harmonies between Exene and John Doe--"perfectly imperfect", as someone *perfectly* stated in this group. For some listeners, 80% of what makes an album good is related to the vocal performances (and they *are* very good here). My own percentage is certainly lower than that. Conversely, it might be higher than other listeners when it comes to songwriting, catchy melodies, instrumentation, arrangements, production and intensity. Those "gifts" can be "wild", too. Even for punk rock. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 852 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 81 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 37 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 31

"Larger-than-life British arena-glam rockers who mastered the art of the pop single, led by the incomparable Freddie Mercury." This is what Allmusic has to say about Queen, even if all those pop singles were also coming from LPs, at least as far as I know. Note that this overall description doesn't mention albums at all. And there might be a reason for that, which could possibly be that Queen's extravagant antics were far less suitable for the length of a whole album, to the point when they could turn from extravagant to simply exhausting in the course of such longer plays... That being said, it would be ridiculous to *fully* exclude such a legendary band for a list of 1001 essential records, and *A Night At The Opera* is probably the best candidate for it out there, thanks to "Bohemian Rhapsody", of course, but also to the far less known and yet absolutely marvellous cuts in it, expecially the equally extravagant but also mystical "The Prophet" and its incredible vocal bridge in the middle of the song, the heavy blues-rock of "Sweet Lady", or the psychedelic folk ballad about space explorers "39", all of them penned by future astronomer Brian May (!). Add a large chunk of rockers (mean and wicked opener "Death On Two Legs" or Roger Daltrey's hilarious "I'm In Love With My Car" ) along with a few mock-novelty numbers here and there, and you have a great album whose main strength actually lies in its 180 degrees twists and turns, keeping you on your toes the whole time. Such a record proves that Queen can be interesting and even relevant for stuff that has nothing to do with their most obvious and famous hits, still sounding fresh today. You may think you know everything there is to know about this band, and yet you might be wrong about this. So who knows? Maybe *A Night At The Opera* will be an entry point for me so that I can later discover wonders in their other seventies albums (my superficial listening sessions for them strongly point towards "Queen II" , "Sheer Heart Attack" or "Jazz", maybe even "News of The World", even though I feel everything important about the latter can be summed up in its first two tracks, "We Will Rock You" and "We Are The Champions", that I obviously already have in a compilation at home). Whatever the case may be, and in the meantime, I'm happy to include *A Night At The Opera* in my own list. I feel that for a casual listener to this band, there are worse ways to start a full-blown exploration of their back catalogue, at least. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 851 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 82 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 37 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 31

As in the album before this one, *Return To Cookie Mountain*, the best and most effective tracks on *Dear Science* are the ones written and sung by Tunde Adebimpe (lively opener "Halfway Home", for example, or the string of tunes he penned that are lined up on side B--far better than the first--, especially the moving ballad "Family Tree" and the mellifluous "Love Dog" and "DLZ"). In comparison, Kyp Malone's funkier tracks are OK, but they're less intense or enticing, except for the great single "Golden Age", where Malone nicely channels "Golden Years"-era Bowie in both his songwriting and performance. Dave Sitek's production chops are highly skilled too (the Eno influence on "Halfway Home" is a very nice touch), but to me, the real soul of TV On The Radio is neither him nor Malone, it's Adebimpe. Given the relatively uneven nature of those two records, and in spite of the hype that was associated to them--which made me own them at the time--I would still hesitate putting those records in a list of 1001 essential albums, however. I would love to because of the Adimbepe cuts, but not at the expense of other great LPs missing in this list. When I'm "Halfway Home", maybe I will see things a little clearer as to what I can keep, and what I can put aside. It's not *real* science anyway, is it? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 850 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 82 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 38 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 31

Just like many other listeners here, I feel like the bar should be considerably higher for a live album to make this list. Outside of Johnny Cash At Folsom Prison, I'd also be hard pressed to think of one that has the significance to be on here. Someone suggested the Quintet's Jazz At Massey Hall, for instance. In jazz you could also add Coltrane's Live At The Village Vanguard. But you could also go to other genres, from the Woodstock album or Yessongs to Mötörhead's No Sleep 'til Hammersmith. Yet unless I'm mistaken, none of the latter can be found on the original list. So *this* instead? No way. Besides, out of *Made In Japan*'s seven tracks, four we already heard on Machine Head. I feel like it's giving Deep Purple far too much space in this list for no good reason, especially when you're listening to those overlong solos--an exercise that in its most self-indulgent extremities didn't age particularly well within the rock idiom. So even though *Made In Japan* is not a bad record by all means, it's still an unnecessary redundancy in this list, and this should clearly be visible in the global ratings. Therefore I'm giving it a 2. Harsh, I know. But fair if you consider the difficulty of including *only* 1001 great albums in a list. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 849 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 82 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 38 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 32 (including this one)

Ooo la la la! Classic hip hop album. What's not to love in it? Plus, someone like me, who loves to keep the *score*, is bound give this one a five, isn't he? Inventive rap flows, Lauryn Hill's mellifluous voice, an all-around pristine production, interesting covers, great originals... This record is killing me softly with its songs every time I play it. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 848 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 83 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 38 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 32

Iconic album from an iconic band of the sixties, with the iconic "California Dreamin'" hit in the middle of it all, but also other wonderful cuts such as "Monday, Monday", "Straight Shooter", "Go Where You Wanna Go" or "Do You Wanna Dance". Those four-part vocal harmonies sure suggest California sixties ambience like no other band of the time, except maybe the Beach Boys, Jefferson Airplane or the Byrds. Nice balance of originals and covers on the first side. Unfortunately after the "Spanish Harlem" one, the songs are less striking or catchy. Obviously part of a list of 1001 essential albums, but not at the top of it. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 847 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 84 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 38 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 32

Why hasn't anyone told me a 1973 blues-rock album by MTV pop rock mainstays during the eighties could *somehow* remind me of early naughts desert rock such as Queens Of The Stone Ages? Music and its convoluted history are wonderful things, aren't they? I was obviously familiar with the John Lee Hooker rip off for "La Grange" before, but I had not heard the first side of *Tres Hombres* yet. And to be honest that first half sounds pretty great, at least from "Waitin' For The Bus" to "Master Of Sparks". I've just read here that "Beer Drinkers And Hell Raisers" was covered by Mötörhead. Frankly, I can see why Lemmy would single out this song. You can say a lot of things about who Lemmy was as a person or even a band leader, but one thing's for sure: he had great taste as a music fan. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 846 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 83 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 38 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 32

I knew this one was on the list, and frankly, I dreaded the day it would pop up on this app. Not because it is a bad album by any means. As a matter of fact, the music in it can be pretty good at times, especially on its last half, with the groovy, A-Tribe-Called-Quest-flavored "Price Tags" (featuring Anderson Paak), or the minimalistic-yet-moving, acoustic-guitar-driven "Lost Ones" and "The Other Side". But the problem is, can this record be seriously considered as 2021's album of the year, just as Pitchfork, Entertaiment Weekly or NPR said? I mean, really? If you take a look at all the other records released that year, I can at least see twenty other that could win that trophy instead of Heaux Tales, and this in a wide variety of genres. So what did those critics see in this record that I couldn't see? Or, should I rather say, what did they *fail to see* that makes this album quite *corny* sometimes (and even problematic on some of its songs)? First let me elaborate on that issue of critics conveniently NOT drawing attention to the obvious flaws of this record. Seems to me they singled out this loose concept album about African American women's agency because they couldn't agree on a less "topical" record, where music would be at least as important as the lyrics. So they chose a record that looked like it made a strong overall topical statement instead. I'm not too bothered by this, but that default consensus also implies they didn't know where to look to find good stuff. To be honest, I fear that retrospective looks on the year 2021 will be harsh on such critics' choice. But maybe I'm wrong, who knows? Now about the flaws themselves, at least as I see them: First the music. As I said before I quite like the songs on the second side. I also admit that Sullivan's strand of modern r'n'b / nu soul has a wide stylistic range, just as her very nice voice has. The thing is, as wide as that stylistic range is, it seems to me that tracks such as "Put It Down" or "On It" of the first side are way too generic musically speaking. There are probably dozens of other female r'n'b singers out there doing that sort of stuff better than those borderline-clunky tunes here. And since the album is *very* short, that couple of clunky tunes takes its toll on the whole thing. Now comes the moment I truly dreaded, which is explaining why I think the "message" of this album is terribly awkward at times. What starts as a record defending women (especially African American ones)'s right to own their sexualities and bodies against patriarchal prejudice too often ends up being muddled by the *other* important theme of this record, clearly emerging in tracks such as "Price Tags" and "The Other Side": and that theme, just as in many other hip hop / r'n'b records of the last twenty years, is good old Capitalism. Sullivan here naïvely rehashes tired and worn-out clichés about "success" in America, suggesting that true emancipation from mysogynistic prejudice against the liberation of women can't be accomplished without having access to money and material goods. True, you can also interpret all of this as a realistic commentary about said capitalism and its sway on us all. But frankly, if there is self-irony in Jazmine's takes on the issue, it needs to be more clearly stated. Before anyone tells me that *as a male*, I'm not well positioned to address such criticisms about how ambitious women can navigate through the challenges of the world of success and money, let me just point out that I would express the exact same reproach about a whole chunk of Jay-Z's songs, that is to say songs expressing a similar idea from a male point of view. OK, I'm also *white*, so I understand if someone takes my skepticism with a huge grain of salt. But I won't pretend that skepticism of mine isn't there. If the "message" here is that individuals should just get rich to be "free" (obviously at the expense of those who *can't* get rich), I can't possibly *fully* condone it. It doesn't matter what my gender or my skin color are. It's a matter of principle, as far as I'm concerned. On a more positive note, and to go back to Sullivan, I readily admit that she does pepper her *Heaux Tales* with very funny one-liners once in a while. But even there, I find there's something lacking in the execution and overall presentation of that humorous side of things. One striking example is when she mentions her "pussy is wetter than water" in one song to then say it is "wetter than Chesapeake Bay" on the NEXT one. Objectively, the second joke is funnier. But by the time you get there, having heard the first one takes off the edge of the second one-liner. Repetition here makes the whole idea sound tired and lazy instead. Just as some of the music, actually. As a conclusion, I can see many missed opportunities in this record. The whole thing is not so bad, but it's not brilliant either. Admittedly, I've only properly listened to it three times by now. Maybe there are intents and subtleties I didn't properly perceive during those few spins, so I'm ready to give Jazmine Sullivan the benefit of the doubt here. But not much more than this. There are things that all the money in the world *can't* buy. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 845 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 83 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 32

Essential Neil Young album, one of the five best records of his lengthy career by almost all (different) counts out there (and the first one of them, chronologically speaking). *Cinnamon Girl*, the title track, and the long "Down By The River" and "Cowgirl In The Sand", with their epic guitar soloing and hypnotic repetitions, are just the stuff of legend. But even a less known cut such as the borderline-psychedelic post-apocalyptic country number "Running Dry", with its evocative and ominous fiddle in the background, is worth the detour here. Five stars, obviously. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 844 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 84 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 32

I've always had a soft spot for Mott The Hoople. Yes, as far as legendary glam-rock outfits go, Ian Hunter is not as good a singer as his mentor Bowie, and the band is mostly known because the latter was kind enough to give one of his greatest songs to them. But Hunter is still an endearing presence, very eccentric yet efficient at times, even with his limitations, both vocally and lyrically. And even when Ian was out of the picture, the band could still do great stuff. I've always thought that it was unfair that their last album with replacement Nigel Benjamin has been so unfairly panned by critics. *Shouting and Pointing* was no masterpiece, but it was very fun and lively, musically speaking. It just had the misfortune to be released too late, when glam-rock was already a thing of the past... To return to the subject of *this* album, when Ian Hunter was still leading the band, what strikes me the most in *Mott* is how carefully constructed it is. Had that Bowie song, "All The Young Dudes" been included in this record, rather than in that lackluster eponymous one right before it, this album would be a stone-cold masterpiece. There are so many great details in it, from the tricky piano modulations of "All The Way From Memphis" to the synth bridge on "Whizz Kids", from the roaring and unruly chorus of catchy"Honaloochie Boogie" to the downright vocal and lyrical insanity that "Violence" is. What also strikes me on "Mott" is that the more you go deep into the album, the more Bowie's symbolic tutelage fades into the background, to soon become replaced by the one of Bob Dylan, not exactly a glam-rock reference to say the least. Hunter's frail voice might explain all this, especially on ballads very much under the influence of the American bard ("Hymn For The Dudes", "Ballad of Mott The Hoople", "I Wish I Was Your Mother"). As a result, the album is probably richer and more interesting than any other one in the band's career. And yes, this, even without *All The Young Dudes" in the tracklisting... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 843 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 85 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 32

"Had it been pared back to a single record it might have had more impact, but we were already loggerheads at that point." You're right about that, Bob. That being said, you're also right when you say you're still proud of this one, just as Grant was, I hope. *Warehouse...* is Hüsker Dü's swan song, and also their second double-album. For the first one, they were still emerging from their first phase as a take-no-quarter hardcore-punk act, and yet also slowly transitioning to some more melodic songs here and there. *Zen Arcade* was therefore not an easy listen for everyone... And yet it was not merely long, it was also inventive, rich, unpredictable. This one here is the end result of that transition to more pop melodies started with that first double-album, after three other LPs, and it highlights the band as a sort of REM rolling on all overdriven cylinders, as most reviewers noted here. Most of the songs on the first two sides are great, even if at first, you might worry that Mould, Hart and Norton might not be able to keep the pace 20 tracks in given the somewhat one-note aspect of that first part. Fortunately, the second side proves those misgivings wrong. There are nice touches in a lot of the tracks (a synth here, some off-kilter rhythms there, a sea shanty..). The last tune, "You Can Live At Home" is one of the best farewell song a band has given to their fans since the one the Beatles did on *Abbey Road*. Of course, it's far weirder than that, with its stragely hypnotic quasi-dance rhythm. But it's fitting for a band that could never be fully cornered in one box. Now is that the *one* album from Hüsker Dü you'd need to select for a list aimed at general audiences? It's a little tricky to say... It's still a long one to digest if you're not keen on punk rock aesthetics (and even if you are, parts of side 3 are a bit lengthy, it's true). On the other hand, *Warehouse...* is far less abrasive than *Zen Arcade*. What about the other records?, you might ask.... Well, *Flip Your Wig* is probably their most cohesive LP, but if some of the songs in it are all-time indie-pop-punk classics, there are still even *bigger* classics on *Zen Arcade* or *Candy Apple Grey*. Whereas *Warehouse* is the most comprehensive and ambitious album of their whole discography, showing the full scope of what Hüsker Dü could accomplish... My oh my, why can't we have a list of *2001* albums instead? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 842 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 86 (including this one--maybe with *Zen Arcade* and/or *Flip your Wig*, if the latter doesn't simply replace it) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 32

Rarely have I been so undecided about an album. On paper, I should at least *like* this thing, but it seems like many things in these songs are rubbing me the wrong way. Yes, a lot of the arrangements are lush and carefully constructed, and some of the lyrics are fantastic. BUT, and this even after several repeats, I can't manage really *caring* for these tunes. Maybe it's the torpid, sluggish, borderline-bland aspect of the rhythm section, not lively enough for alt-pop-rock, but not slow and expansive enough for post-rock either (I never *first* turn my attention to the rhythm section for indie-pop... But here, I feel like I want to kick the asses of that drummer and that bass player--get things going, please!). Maybe it's also the all-too-polished and overtly polite production, with all those late naughts trademarks that didn't age that well in that genre, up to the point where I start to stifle a little when listening to this stuff. For too many moments, *The Seldom Seen Kid* makes me feel like an elephant in a china shop being asked to wear slippers on. I'm gonna break something, I'm pretty sure of it now... Can I breathe a little, at least? Or maybe it's the peculiarities of the band's singer, a little expressive sometimes, but not too much either, and a very chatty vocalist at times, like he barely has room to cram all his lyrics ideas in within his tunes (even some of the very slow ones). As a result, some of the vocal lines sound a little too affected to my ears. Too bad, since the lyrics are generally very good, as I said before... Who knows, maybe this one will be a "slow-grower" for me? Yet after several spins, I'm starting to have my doubts about this ever happening... But maybe it's me. Maybe I've listened to too much stuff lately, and I feel *a little* burnt out. I don't know... To me, the very nature of this record is encapsulated in one of its minor songs in the middle, the one about the loneliness of a crane driver as a metaphor for a break-up. For once the lyrics are short, and yet nicely evocative. And the music sort of drones on in the background, giving you the impression of watching a set of cranes from afar, slowly moving on the horizon. If conveying that image was the intent of the band, it's an unmitigated success. But the thing is, is that sort of mundane urban landscape, slightly grating to the eye, the type of landscape I want to dive my mind into? Not really. Or, at least, not as often as to suddenly have the immediate urge to return to this record one day. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 841 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 86 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 33 - it's not a bad record, objectively. But I feel like in the last twenty years, there's been dozens of other ones Dimery's list is still ignoring, even if they were yet ten times more striking to me. And I need room for them on my own list. Sorry, Elbow fans :)

Oh well... Madonna. Guess it would be ridiculous not to include at least *one* of her albums in this list given her impact on popular culture, and after checking out most of her records, it seems to me that *Like A Prayer* is the best choice, because it's maybe the only album of hers which is not invaded by an overlong string of clunkers that have aged poorly, apart from the obvious timeless hits. Here it needs to be pointed out that her records from the nineties and naughts surprisingly sound *even more dated* today than the ones from the eighties, if not more. But to be honest, it's an overall problem in her discography. Madonna was so bent on commercial success that her instincts (and producers) always led her to favor styles that would go out of fashion in a year or two--if they were not already dated by the time the record came out. So when the songwriting was not top-notch (and it wasn't in many cases), the whole thing sounded ludicrous to listeners with less blatantly commercial tastes. And this even back then. To be honest, I first expected *Like A Prayer* to be pestered by that same sort of problem given my knowledge of the second and third singles, "Express Yourself" and "Cherish". The first one is still bearable in an eighties nostalgic kind of way, but the second just sounds plain cheesy to me. But the thing is, those two singles are actually among the less compelling cuts in this album, and most of everything else is surprisingly very good. Of course, there's the title track opening this record. Everybody knows it, so I don't need to describe in details its gorgeous gospel arrangements, off-kilter chord changes, unnexpected rhythm drops and overall soulfull atmosphere. It's one of those timeless hits Madonna will always be remembered for. About the other good stuff now: The sensual duet with Prince, "Love Song", provides the kind of kinky kicks you can expect from the association of those two household names. It croons and moans and writhes just the right way. "Till Death Do Us Part" is a lively and catchy mid-tempo song displaying one of the rare instances Madonna could do rockier stuff without sounding too insincere or overaffected. Its lyrics are also an uncompromising take on domestic psychological abuse, which doesn't hurt. "Promise To Try" is a touching ballad, unpretentious but still effective. Its minimalistic piano-driven struture makes sure it can stay fresh after all these years. Compared to it, the strings-laden baroque pop chops of "Dear Jessie" are nothing short of astonishing: the music sounds like the love child of *Around the World In A day*-era Prince and Kate Bush. Sorry for the horrid mental picture I'm suggesting here, but believe me, musically it still works out very well. The next track, "Oh Daddy", is probably the centerpiece of the record, and certainly its emotional heart. It's all in the title. Heavy strings support a very personal song where Louise Ciccone settles scores with her father, and if you feel like someone eavesdropping on something you shouldn't hear while listening to it, the heartrending arrangements, the irresistible chorus, and the somewhat cold, detached way Madonna sings the latter make for a fascinating listen. After this feat, the bland pop-dance number "Keep It Together" is underwhelming to say the least, but the record fortunately ends on another high note, the acoustic-guitar and latin-trumpet-driven torch song "Pray for Spanish Eyes" ("Act Of Contrition" after it is nothing but a goofy experimental bonus track for me--so experimental that you feel like you're listening to Sonic Youth's parody album *Ciccone Youth* instead). So that's it: 10 real songs. Two clunkers and one half-clunker against seven keepers, including one timeless hit. Of course, only *one* timeless hit may sound a little stingy compared to the usual three you could find on *Madonna*, *Like A Virgin* and *True Blue*, to just mention her eighties albums. I suggest owning a compilation if you really enjoy those more famous songs (like *The Immaculate Collection* or the most complete *Celebration*) and just forget about those LPs. Unless you're a huge fan, or obsessed with eighties' cheesy sounds, they're not really worth it. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 840 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 87 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 33

I'm a very casual reggae fan, only owning 10+ essential albums at home (by Bob Marley, Toots And The Maytals, Desmond Dekker, Jimmy Cliff, Lee "Scratch" Perry/The Upsetters or the Congos...), plus a few Trojan and Studio One compilations. If I had a little more room and money to spare, this one would be part of my collection for sure... But since I already have the historical title track on CD somewhere, I didn't go for it. Don't get me wrong, *Legalize It* is still a fine album. The songwriting can be very good sometimes, and some of the arrangements are top-notch. Take "Igziabeher", for instance: its dreamy piano flourishes, to which Tosh adds enigmatic wind sounds at the end, make for a trippy listening experience. Nice way to praise Jah, Peter. Here are the sort of nice touches that can take the genre up to the next level. Admittedly, some of the tunes are still a little light on the ear, especially compared to Tosh's former band, The Wailers. That comparison may seem unfair to a certain extent--Tosh is a more than decent songwriter--yet one can still sense this record sometimes lacks the mystical intensity of Marley's vocal performances, or the full-on inventive quirkiness of Lee Perry's productions, or the sheer soulfulness of Toots And the Maytals. But I can still get why *Legalize It* should be an album you must listen to at least once in your life. And this even if you're only a *casual* reggae fan, with not enough shelves in his living room. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 839 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 88 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 33

Wave after wave, Robert Wyatt takes us on an astonishing and marvellous trip to the sea. His frail voice is the auditory equivalent of spindrifts: it has an automatic effect on you, and can even repel you at first given its somewhat flimsy grasp of pitch sometimes, but once you get used to it, it becomes close to a mischievous, evocative friend tickling your senses. Soon, you don't notice Robert's quaver is relatively vulnerable anymore, because you're already under the surface with it, bathing in the middle of strange and poetic sonic landscapes. Everything about this record is liquid--the voice, of course, but also the synth and organ layers, the oozy basslines, and the many jazzy brass flourishes. It would be a mistake to only address the sonic textures, though: repeated listens indeed soon reveal how the tracks are carefully constructed too, their different parts and intricate arrangements phasing in and out of the foreground, weaving their seaweed fabric as their tides ebb and flow all around your ears. Water is enticing, but it's also treacherous. Take the short intro of wonderful opener "Sea Song", for example. You might believe that those relatively by-the-number piano chords announce a somewhat mundane ballad, yet the emotional turmoil right after those first seconds sounds far more intense than what you could have expected at first, and this until the deliverance of the transcendant final part, filled with hope and longing. Wyatt is also unreliable in the ways that he sometimes winks at the audience, especially when he makes goofy non-sequiturs in his lyrics or uses a lower grotesque timbre to create unexpected lighter moments compared to the rest of the tortured proceedings. In that realm, see also the backwards-recorded voice in the middle of "Little Red Riding Hood Hit The Road", rewinding everything that was sung up to that point in the song, a playful move that suggests the sort of tricks a child could play on you. If the key word to "get" this record is catharsis, it's still one taken with a huge grain of salt, in keeping with the oceanic mood. Everything is nicely summed up in the last track, "Little Red *Robin Hood* Hit The Road": yes, its first part does amp up the intense longing to embrace an ocean of experience and emotions already diplayed in the rest of the album, supported by mellifluous electric guitar licks, unmistakably played by Mike Oldfield. Yet as grand as this first part sounds, the song (and album)'s conclusion returns to the quicksands of that surrealistic grotesque mode we talked about earlier, mocking transcendence through Wyatt's voice, here set once more to a gruffy, near-comical mode. This earthy coda suggests we finally returned to the shores of mankind, welcomed by a wrinkled mariner gently admonishing us through his inane and uncomprehensible babble. Our odyssey is over. The end. What a trip. What a strange voyage. Far less groovy and free-formed than Wyatt's original band Soft Machine, but far more poetic and evocative, *Rock Bottom* is a seventies prog-rock masterpiece which could not be further distanced from all the virtuosistic clichés of the genre. As such, it's bound to be discovered again and again by future fans of experimental music, undettered by the nonplussed reactions of shallower minds around them rejecting all this as utter nonsense. The tides, they come and go. Robert Wyatt knew it, and we can all be glad he went with the flow here. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 838 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 89 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 33

Yeah Yeah Yeahs' *Fever To Tell* was my second favorite album of 2003, a year that was admittedly short on great albums by my count: apart from The White Stripes breaking out into the mainstream, and The Strokes, Mogwai, Grandaddy or Broadcast doing their thing, there was not much going on in terms of *truly* exciting stuff. Oh, 50 Cents hit the charts, too--I guess *this* was fun, even though everyone with half a brain at the time knew that sort of thing would age poorly, as fun as it was to hear on the spot. Those dreadful naughts... It all went down to the drain for a lot of music starting from that year. At least, Yeah Yeah Yeahs sounded *fresh*, unruly and untamed with their NYC garage aesthetics. *That* was a breath of fresh air, before going to the long apnea of the decade that ensued (not that folks with decent music tastes knew such decade would be *that* dreadful at the time--for one, I would have taken a *larger* breath had I known). Fast forward to 2009. After a half-baked sophomore effort, Yeah Yeah Yeahs attempt a grand comeback, with the help of usually great producer Nick Launay and TV On The Radio's Dave Sitek. You can't really blame the intentions of all those nice, usually talented people (including the band themselves): they wanted the band to be relevant again, which meant that the sound of this record *had to* move forward compared to previous ones. But there's a snag: as this team gathered all their forces to do so, they totally *neutered* what made Yeah Yeah Yeahs great in the first place. We could go on with the details here, but we'll just stick to *one* symptomatic issue: Karen O's voice. In too many places of this *other* half-baked record, she sounds literally short of breath, which takes the cake knowing what she can do as a singer. Yes, there are a few thoughtful arrangements in those songs, some of whom are decently written, I guess, in spite of some predictable shenanigans in them. But such benefits come with a price, and the price is extremely high here. Those production values are indeed nothing but a gilded cage for Yeah Yeah Yeahs, they sound as if they're wild exotic birds imprisoned in it, and frankly, it makes me feel very sad for them. The cover sure seems to suggest you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs. But when it comes to this band, I prefer my eggs sunny side up, and NOT that messy, shapeless blob of a record, Grammy nomination notwithstanding. On the positive side of things, there are two ballads on the record, "Skeletons" and "Runaway" that might be worth taking a detour to. But anyone who loved "Maps" on the first album knows those nice tunes can't compete with their obvious model here. As those fans know none of the livelier cuts on *It's Blitz* can either compete with the ones on the first LP. It's especially clear when you listen to the overtly *terrible* three last tracks, displaying everything that's hackneyed about textbook late naughts production (faux-groovy, disco-like rhythm sections, overtly polite synth and guitar licks, bland vocal parts--the list could go on...). This sort of thing can still give some dated charm to Phoenix or Gossip, I imagine. But for Yeah Yeah Yeahs, it just doesn't work at all. But I imagine that I shouldn't sound so surprised by this debacle taking way too much attention to the fashionable sounds of those days... 2009 was indeed another dreadful year for music fans. Apart from Animal Collective breaking into the mainstream--er... let me correct that: "finding critical consensus by default"--well, apart from that, what was going on in terms of exciting stuff? Not much, it seems. Fortunately, things slowly got a little better once we entered the 2010s. But that's a story for another time, kiddies... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 839 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 89 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 39 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important: 34 (including this one)

As much a post-punk band as a proto-industrial one, Killing Joke have a somewhat important place in the history of those two genres, even though what they accomplished during the eighties was later refined by very different bands going from Big Black to Nine Inch Nails, bringing more interesting rhythms and sounds to the barebones formula displayed by the band's first LP. With this mind, it's still nice to hear that highlights "Requiem", "Wardance" and "The Wait" still set a pretty high bar from the get-go, in spite of the early years in which they were recorded. And apart from the extremely clunky white-funk instrumental (?) "Bloodsports"--clearly out of place here--everything else on this record is more than decent, if not absolutely mindblowing. Check out the later album *Night Time*, too, if you're intrested in the band. Not for "Love Like Blood", a poppier experiment that hit the charts and yet didn't age that well, but at least for two other tracks: mesmerizing "Darkness Before Dawn" and catchy "Eighties". The latter is famous because Kurt Cobain probably nicked its intro for the one on "Come As You Are", but it's not the only reason the song should be listened to given its prophetic lyrics about how said competition-driven "eighties" would be perceived in later decades. Because, hey, Killing Joke could get pretty topical too, even if it was in a goofy, somewhat low brow way. And this topicality is *also* an asset of their first record for those who are into that sort of thing, by the way... I need to know if I have enough room on my list to include this one, to be honest. But I *do* wish I have room for it, even though I'm not a *huge* fan of the industrial genre. Time will tell. Hope "the wait" doesn't seem too long for me, at least... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 838 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 89 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 40 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important: 34 (including this one)

What's good with this project is that I can broaden my horizons thanks to choices I would not necessarily make all by myself. I don't know enough about Brazilian music, but I know that I enjoy a lot what I'm hearing right now, and it's enough for me in certain genres. Some of the songs' finales are especially impressive. I was only vaguely aware of who arranger Eumir Deudato was before (through Björk), and it's nice to finally hear how fabulous he can be. As it's nice to discover Milton Nascimento and Ló Borges, two great songwriters with endearing voices and presence. I could go on and give details on the unmistakable seventies feel I sense out of this record. I could even try to compare it to the one of American and British rock classics of that same era (it seems the "international" influence is definitely there). But I won't. It's nice to stop the fake TED Talks once in a while and just smell the roses. Because they smell the same, whether in Brazil or Britain and the US. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 837 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 90 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 40 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important: 34 (including this one)

Hey punk rock fans! Listen to NOFX's EP The Decline. I'm serious, listen to it. Then only after that, you''ll be able to judge whether Green Day pulled it off writing a punk opera. I leave the link down here for those who don't know what I'm talking about: https://open.spotify.com/track/2Wm84PF0DHyRQx79Lj9NwI?si=PUPhtW_UTOCvw3tgbfLlKg&utm_source=copy-link To me, NOFX certainly managed to write a punk opera five years *before* American Idiot came out, and they only needed 18 minutes of runtime to convince me. The exhilarating twists and turns of the music, the hardcore accelerations, the trippy, almost proggy interlude, the grand parade of the finale, sarcastic and desperate with its ironic trombone, and the pointed lyrics, saying what *American Idiot* tries to say with far more wit than any song on the latter--everything in *The Decline* surpasses Green Day's seventh album, and this without the financial means and production tools said album profited from. The huge difference lies in the songwriting--both for the music and the lyrics. Case in point for *American Idiot*'s overall shortcomings: 9-minute centerpiece "Jesus Of Suburbia", which soon wears out its welcome, if only because its own musical twists and turns sound lazy, torpid, and quite predictable (once again compared to the ones of "The Decline", for instance). Plus, stealing Johnny Cash's "Ring Of Fire" melody for the main guitar riff at the end of the song--and this for no discernible reason in the song itself--doesn't help me take Green Day very seriously here anyway. As for the lyrics, they are pestered by the same problem found in the rest of the LP--their supposed denunciation of American hypocrisy, as related to specific issues such as the gulf wars, the media or Bush's lies, is all too vague, not just to say virtually non-existent. Actually you'd be hard-pressed to find more than a few passing indirect allusions to those things in the lyrics of this record--PR agents from the label sure had you believe there was something politically substantial in *American idiot* at the time. Turns out there's not. As a consequence, this here sounds and feels like an all-too polished, fully-"corporate", fantasy version of so-called "rebellion". And this critique also concerns the music--those copied-and-pasted "heys" of the background vocals, those very bland, uniform chord successions, the pristine lead vocals drenched in effects that have nothing to do with punk's ethos and aesthetics. The awful truth about *American Idiot* is probably this: at the time, Green Day didn't have it in them to write enough true pop-punk anthems that would be as good and catchy and visceral as the ones on *Dookie*. So instead of admitting this and move on (or just call it a day, "green" or not), they used expensive production values, marketing, costumes, and so-called "high-brow" topical ambitions to cover their lack of inspiration. What a shame. The only true punk pop anthem that could be compared to what they did before is the nice title-track opening the LP. And if "Holiday" is already going to some other places than punk, it's still a catchy song, more than decently written. But that's it. And in the end, that's probably the only thing that's gonna save this album from a 1/5 grade on my part. Everything else is indeed either a huge letdown or a fuck-up of major proportions. The other two "hits", "Boulevard Of Broken Dreams" and "Wake Me Up When September Ends" are cheesy attempts to sell out and reproduce dad-rock ballads that didn't suit the band well anyway (those attempts worked out in the charts, unfortunately--people have bad taste sometimes). What's worse, those tunes are not even the most ridiculous thing that this record has to offer. Because even if you don't take into account Green Day's 180-degree turn when it comes to what punk should sound like and just consider the whole thing as a general mainstream rock album, *American Idiot* still doesn't work for most serious music fans out there. And the songwriting and production is to blame, once again. Those tunes can't compare with older rock operas: they are just void and calculated reenactments of their aesthetics, but without the lively inventiveness and quaint charm you could find in them. In other words, *American Idiot* is no *Tommy*. And it doesn't end with a bang, just like the latter does, but with a whimper. Worse, that long boring end actually starts *before* the middle of the record, with "Boulevard Of Broken Dreams", and drags on forever. Of course, one could argue that this anti-climactic ending is sort of the point of the story told by *American Idiot*, at least from what the songs are able to convey about the overall yarn--it's always been hard understanding the precise tales of rock operas, admittedly, so we won't blame Green Day for *that* at least. From what we can perceive about the story, everyone's in for some disappointing outcomes in the story. The "Jesus" character ends up pushing paper in a cubicle. "Whatsername" marries "Whatsisface", a soulless nobody. You can't get too excited about those final story developments, I guess. As I imagine those are actually nothing but another cynical and somewaht futile way to repeat the old "No Future" punk motto to the masses. So yes, maybe the anticlimactic end is all part of the design, and this might be another reason we won't go as low as 1/5 for this one. BUT that intellectual argument still doesn't save the album for me. Because: a. Being aware of all this still can't excuse the dour music on the second half (and remember that I wasn't even convinced by everything on the first). Ideally, you can speak about boredom without being boring yourself. b. When it comes to having anti-climactic ends for your rock opera that yet still has some emotional effect on you, maybe Green Day should have taken notes from The Pretty Things' *S.F. Sorrow* on how to pull it off. c. You can't just improvise being a rock opera writer. Apart from all the necessary conceptual pretensions and delusions of grandeur, your heart must *also* be in it somehow. Not sure where Green Day's heart was on this one. Maybe it exploded way too soon, just like that grenade on the cover, and all they could do after that was trying to pick up the pieces, and try not to look too cynical about the whole thing. Yet some music fans saw through them at the time. I sure did, and I still do now. Hence the fact that, to me, including this record in a list of essential listens somehow misses the point of what "essential" really means, in spite of a couple of decent singles. Not everyone is an "American Idiot", Billie Joe. Pass the word to Robert Dimery, please. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 836 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 90 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 40 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important: 35 (including this one)

Has anyone heard this "unplugged" version of "Take On Me"? Shows how good the song is, even without its lush synth arrangements and Morton Harket having to go to the famous falsetto highs at the end of its chorus. https://open.spotify.com/track/7htt7UuxHL5wneOcMWJP5E?si=K-aG8WMmS5qCORpI0R96sg&utm_source=copy-link To return to the original album from which this timeless hit is taken from, not all of those eighties arrangements and vocal feats have aged as well as "Take On Me", unfortunately. As a matter of fact, and under closer scrutiny, a lot of the songs in this record are somewhat disappointing, and this only in the compositional level. For example, there's "Train of Thought" and its awkward faux post-punk grunts on verses, followed by incomplete choruses, leaving you dangling in the air--a bit of a problem that can also be found with "Here I Stand And Face The Rain". And speaking of chorus, there's much to complain about the ones of "The Blue Sky" and "Love And Reason", but this time for opposite reasons, as they confuse catchiness with bland, pointless repetition... Fortunately, two exceptions are saving this record from a 2/5 grade (which is a tribute to their inherent greatness, given how hackneyed and cheesy-sounding a lot of the other tunes are sounding today). There's the title track, whose epic chorus and incredible orchestral flourishes could have been recorded yesterday, and "The Sun Always Shine On T.V." that somehow transcends its dated sound through the sheer force of its vocal melodic lines, pretty much in the same way "Take On Me" does. Now I have two questions: can three great tracks against seven tedious ones make an essential album? But more importantly, where can I find those tracks without the clunkers and add them to my record collection? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 835 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 90 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 40 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important: 36 (including this one)

This is obviously a landmark album for the whole hip hop genre, even if with this debut, DJ Muggs had not yet reached the full-bodied, weed-scented sounds Cypress Hill would later become famous for. Admittedly, he was getting to such hypnotic impact with hits (from the bong) "How I could Just Kill A Man", "Hand On The Pump" or "Stoned Is the Way of The Walk"... But as groundbreaking as those tracks were, most of everything else was still under the sway of late eighties production habits. And those might fare a little less well for certain rap fans, depending on where their mileage on old-school instrumentals is... That being said, "Pigs" is a terrific opener, whose cartoonish yet pointed lyrics about the police haven't aged a day--minus one or two passing details we won't delve into right now. With an opener like that, you instantly know what to expect from this record. Too bad its second half doesn't have enough musical or lyrical highlights in that vein, though. So if you want to listen to a Cypress Hill album that doesn't peter out on its midway point, I suggest you give a try to *Black Sunday* or *Temples Of Boom*. I will certainly add the first on my own list of 1001 albums you should absolutely listen to. Not that this one here is so bad--it's just not the best, is all. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 834 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 90 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 41 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 36

Make no mistake, *Tubular Bells* is the tree that hides the weird and sometimes wonderful forest that Mike Oldfield planted for us in first decade of his long career, from the long suites of the seventies to his catchy pop hits sung by the pristine Maggie Reilly during the early eighties (just don't bother explore anything from later periods, it's quite pointless). But like all forests, that one can be confusing at times. True, there are treasures to dig out in each and every one of those early albums. Yet there are *also* jarring moments in them, stuff so cheesy you can't believe someone able to write and play so many sublime melodies and arrangements can also stumble and fall for such stupid-sounding ideas. But as perplexing as Oldfield's music can be, it seems like the man always spontaneously follows his instincts, and this wherever they lead him. And this is exactly what makes those early records of his endearing and one-of-a-kind, even with their many flaws. At least to me. There are two exceptions to this rule of thumb that Mike Oldfield's records are always flawed to an extent, which prove the man was able to write genuine masterpieces when rightly inspired. The second exception is *Ommadawn* (1975), and if you loved *Tubular Bells*, I advise you to check it out a.s.a.p.. But the very first exception is Oldfield's debut, obviously, from its famous introduction on grand piano and sped-up glockenspiel and farfisa organ (following an off-kilter, hypnotic rhythm pattern) to the layers of instruments piling up over a catchy bassline concluding Part One. In comparison, Part Two is both dreamier (those celtic folk interludes ; that utopian, "new age" atmosphere elsewhere) and more eccentric (that mock-hard rock thing with grunting vocals coming out of nowhere), going from one extreme to the next, exploring both burlesque and breathtaking sonic landscapes. Part 2 is indeed notoriously more "difficult" than Part 1. But as disjointed as it sounds, you could still find such contrasts in the *relatively* streamlined structure of the first part. One thing's for sure, the 180-degrees turns on this LP, from heavenly female choirs to heavy guitar riffs, will have your head spinning... Yet we're not talking about Emerson, Lake and Palmer here either. *Tubular Bells* is not merely demonstrative or performative. It has a heart, too--maybe a clunky one, in keeping with the pre-DIY manner in which it was conceptualized on tape shenanigans and other sort of try-and-error measures, but a heart nonetheless. In a way, Oldfield's magnum opus sure gives another sense to the word "ridiculous", both as a negative and a positive term. This album shouldn't work, and yet, minus very short WTF moments, it does. And even the WTF moments are actually playing a key part in all this, preventing this record to fall into all the usual pitfalls of prog-rock by using an out-of-the-box philosophy about what instrumentation should do. Case in point: the electric guitar. Oldfield had found from the get-go one of the most distinct and idiosyncratic sound in the long history of that instrument, a sound that he would refine again and again in later albums. As a result, his guitar playing in not only *dumbly* virtuositic ; it is also rich, hugely harmonic, evocative, playful, both strident and lush. Another paradox many rock fans can't quite put their fingers on. Even for some coming from the usual prog-rock ilk. To put it in a nutshell, you may love *Tubular Bells* or you may hate it, but it's hard to deny its originality and importance. This record *is* indeed an essential listen, both as an example and a *counterexample* of what made people tick during the early seventies. Such paradoxes are rare, but when they become such a popular cultural artefact, the end result becomes precious. Avant-garde has never sounded so easy on the ear... or maybe novelty pieces have never sounded so avant-garde, who knows? And all it took to accomplish that trick was a 19-year-old kid following a very personal vision--not exactly a genius, but at least a wizard when it came to sound and moods. Virgin Records founder Richard Branson can be thanked a thousand times over for giving a chance to such a young man with very few credentials going for him. Later on, Branson thought he would reach the heavens with Virgin Airlines or Virgin Galactic. But maybe the only time he *really* did so, was when he greenlighted *Tubular Bells*, all things considered... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 833 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 91 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 41 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 36

So that's where that electric guitar sample on Beastie Boys' "B Boy Bouillabaisse" and Kendrick Lamar's "I" came from! Nice. Such a distinctive sound. But it's not the only ingredient that makes this recipe of "That Lady" right, since the five minutes of this groovy opener fly by without you noticing the song was that long. The sixties Isley Brothers are long gone by now, here comes a funkier version of them, and that version makes sparks on this first track. Too bad this was not the case with the useless James Taylor cover that follows that great opener. Gosh, is he a bland songwriter at times--my best guess is that the inclusion of this boring ballad was a way for the Isley Brothers to make a commercial point and reassure their label after the change of sound implied by the inclusion of three new family members into the band. But maybe they did genuinely like this dud of a song, who knows? Eh, nobody's perfect, I guess. Fortunately, things pick up nicely with the next two tracks, "If You Were There" and "You Walk Your Way". The first is especially impressive with its rolling rumble upon the bass toms, nicely contrasting with the sweet and longing feelings displayed in the rest of the vocals and instrumentation--including that ARP synthesizer already used to great effects by Stevie Wonder in "Superstition" the year before. Apparently, The Isley Brothers shared the same studio with Stevie for this record (he was recording the seminal *Innervision* while they were working on *3+3*). All those accomplished musicians must have had very interesting conversations while they were there. Closing side one is a cover of the Doobie Brothers' "Listen To the Music". Odd that the bass line on the original slaps harder than in here (but Tiran Porter was indeed a killer bass player, so I guess it's hard to reach his level anyway). It's still a great cover, though, thanks to those ARP synth flourishes. Opening side two is "What It Comes Down To", a rather convincing track, in the vein of Al Green and Stevie Wonder, once again. The drums are still doing that sort of rollicking thing they did on "If You Were There", and their rumble is good enough that you're happy to hear the band use that trick again. Next is another cover, "Sunshine (Go Away Today)", this time from an obscure folk-rock singer named Jonathan Edwards. By all means, listen to the original, because The Isley Brother had a lot of fun completely turning it on its head. Their version is far more adventurous and enticing than Edward's one--the vocals are especially effective--and there's even that weird synth glissando west coast gangta rap would pillage two decades later. And after this is... another cover, " Summer Breeze", once again by another fashionable soft rock act from those days, Seals And Crofts, admittedly far more more obscure in 2022. Unfortunately, and contrary to "Sunshine", the original is in this case the superior version, The Isley Brothers finding themselves unable to bring anything interesting or worth noticing in their own rendition. Besides, it's a little too easy to cover so many hits from the year before in an album, a habit that was not frowned upon yet during the sixties, but that quickly looked suspicious in the decade that followed. If by this point, you're starting to lose interest in this overlong review, this might not be so bad, because I also lost interest in the record myself in the middle of side two. I therefore don't have much to say about closer "The Highways Of My Life", this short ballad being an original composition by the band that doesn't say much either, whether it is musically or lyrically. All in all not a bad album, even if it's quite patchy, hit-or-miss for me. I can see why it had such an influence on other musicians--the already famous Isley Brother following the footsteps of Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder when the latter gave up mellow stuff in favor of harder grooves. But I'd rather go to those household names first when it comes to that overall genre... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 832 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 91 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 42 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 36

I guess the inclusion of this album on the list is almost exclusively due to its legendary third track, "Papa Was A Rolling Stone". But it *is* such a fantastic track that I won't argue with Dimery and co about their decision to include the LP the song was actually taken from. Besides, it was nice listening to its longer original version for the first time here--those 11+ minutes just flew by, exactly like the single version repeatedly did for me before... As for the rest of the record, it is generally excellent. Opener "Funky Music Sho Nuff Turns Me On" (played live here, I think) rides a mean groove, and "Run Charley Run" is a topical cut that's quite powerful as a statement about the housing issues faced by the African-American community at the tail end of the Civil Rights Movement--the songs is a snarling statement for sure, yet one not totally devoid of hope and empathy either. Side two is admittedly less striking than side one, since it only uses slower ballads or far less funky tunes compared to the first half of the album. Some of those laidback or plaintive tunes are nonetheless impressive in their own rights--cuts such as Isaac Hayes' "Do Your Thing", or "I Ain't Got Nothin'" a few tracks before--I could swear that at least one later hip hop act sampled that "shoo-wop, doo wop" vocal hook on it (maybe from a different version of the song), but I can't remember which act it was, unfortunately. The information is probably two clicks away on the internet, so I'll let you do your own research, OK? 😉 Two songs kinda stick out like sore thumbs on that second half, unfortunately: there's the saccharine "Love Woke Me Up This Morning", a solo number for Harris--the youngest member of the vocal band at the time--here relying on his falsetto timbre in an attempt to make a durable impression, but only enhancing the cheesiness of the original composition as he does so. And there's also the quite pointless rendition of Ewan McColl's folk standard "The First Time Ever (I Saw Your Face)"... Because of those two irritating tracks, I can't give the maximum grade to this record. Besides, The Temptations didn't write their own tunes (plus, they extensively used covers for their repertoire), and apart from incredible or groundbreaking performers such as Nina Simone or Johnny Cash, it is something that I will always consider as a significant flaw when it comes to select my own list of all-time greats. But still, this record is a keeper for sure, and not only for the most famous track on it... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 831 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 92 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 42 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 36

Neil Young's compositions ("Mr Soul", "Expecting To Fly" and "Broken Arrow" ) shine out the most on this one. "Mr Soul" is one of the Canadian songwriter's most distinctive tunes, and it's as great an opener as Stills' "For What It's Worth" was for the debut. By the way, Neil Young's other two renditions of the song (one for the unfairly maligned *Trans* album, and the other for his MTV Unplugged session) are both worth your time if you enjoy the original. As for the dreamy "Expecting To Fly", it surprisingly sounds like an outtake from *Harvest*, whereas the latter would only recorded a few years later--this familiarity probably stems from Jack Nitzsche's spatial production chops, that he would use again to great effects for Young's most famous LP. Amazing stuff. To conclude on Young's cuts, it must be pointed out that "Broken Arrow"'s off-kilter structure, with all its unpredictable interruptions, is certainly one-of-a-kind (what a great "meta" title for a tune, huh?). And yet as weird as the song's structure is, it's fascinating to hear how emotions seep through Young's performance, in spite of the stop-and-go nature of the song. So yeah, Neil Young's fans are in for a treat here. But as great as the tracks helmed by him are, everything else is pretty good too (especially Stills' "Bluebird" and "Hung Upside Down"). Richie Furay's tunes are less immediately striking, admittedly, but they remain interesting--and it's nice that Stills and Young left some room to his songs at least. This topsy-turvy nature of the record obviously resulted in a couple of shortcomings and other dead-ends (as far as Buffalo Springfield's album go, I always thought the debut was a more cohesive offering), but it's only a minor gripe from your humble servant here. Classic stuff. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 830 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 93 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 42 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 36

I've probably been a little too harsh for my review of the purple dwarf's *1999* (and my grade, 3/5, was harsh too). It was a fun rant, so I have no regrets. But still... So to get the karmic balance about Prince right, and given that I don't have anything original or interesting to add about this classic record from the eighties, I'm just gonna add one point to my initial estimation of *Purple Rain* (which was around 4 to 4.5) and therefore make its cover appear on my personal gallery of all-time stunners when you click on my profile. Those covers are starting to look good now, even if there are so many other personal favorites of mine I want to add to them right now. I also have to admit that it's fun to go from hall of fame to hall of shame, and smirk at the lowest-graded numbers. There too, I badly want to add a few stinkers to the list. I know some of them are coming up--not from Prince, though, even if his later stuff dangerously added that extra layer of cheese no one needed in the first place. But, hey, I know there's even worse than Prince's later carreer when it comes to ridiculous stuff--I've checked Dimery's list, and it's there, hiding among the gems. It'll be great singling those horrors out too. What a fun app, really. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 829 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 94 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 42 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 36

I've probably been a little too harsh for my review of the band's previous album, *Highway To Hell* (and my grade, 3/5, was harsh too). What was I thinking? I've listened to it a few more times since, and even if it's no masterpiece, it's still a *fun* record. 4/5 would have been more like it. So to get the karmic balance about AC/DC right, and given that I don't have anything original or interesting to add about this classic record, I'm just gonna give a 5/5 grade to *Back In Black* right away. I already intended to do so anyway, even when I only gave *Highway To Hell* a 3. Because this record is a small miracle. The change of lead singer after Bon Scott's death was a very risky affair, and yet it fully paid out. So many stellar tracks on this one. Four all-time hits: "Hells Bells", "Shoot To Thrill", " Back In Black" and "You Shook Me All Night Long". But every other track is awesome, really. I'm not a *huge* AC/DC fan, but you gotta hand it down to them: they made a perfect record here. It's as simple as that. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 828 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 93 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 42 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 36

Guess this was an important record for the Brits, bringing fashionable sounds of the day from America over their side of the pond. A few tracks stand out among the usual lovelorn ditties, and early sixties pop rock / r'n'b always makes nice background music anyway, doesn't it? Dusty's voice is very good, too, even though she really goes over the top for that Ray Charles cover closing the proceedings. Try as hard as you can Dusty, you're still looking a little pale for that sort of thing, aren't you? This here is the sort of detail that can make you smirk a little about the way bubblegum pop in those years unabashedly 'whitewashed' African-American musical heritage. That being said, two other nice covers from Dionne Warwick's early repertoire (stellar "Anyone Who Had A Heart", and cutesy "Wishin' And Hopin'", both penned by the Burt Bacharach/Hal David writing duo) brought to my attention how classy the first couple of Warwick albums are. So I guess I can thank *A Girl Called Dusty*'s inclusion on this list for that, at least. So, yeah, all of this is quite interesting, but it didn't fully convince me this record should be listened to *at all cost*--except perhaps if you're a nostalgic fan of that more innocent-sounding, early swinging-sixties era. Springfield was admittedly an important figure, but maybe not for the album format... Worthy of note, the US version of this record, just called "Dusty" (appropriately enough) has a very different tracklisting that includes another Bacharach/David signature song, "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself" (remember The White Stripes' version, by the way?). Had this track been included in the original version, my interest in the latter might have been a little more stronger, who knows? Waiting now to properly listen to the *Dusty In Memphis* one to see if there's more to Springfield's core repertoire than this latter tune and, of course, "Son Of A Preacher Man". I know *that* LP is coming up, too, and if there are enough gems in it, I might add another name to my own personal album hall of fame. But not before. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 827 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 95 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 42 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 37 (including this one)

This is what The Atlantic has to say about the American tour that followed this record: "Live recordings included in the box set give a good sense of what an Armed Forces–era Attractions concert was like: Every song seems about 15 percent faster and 30 percent more punk than the album version. To an unsympathetic listener, Costello can sound twee in studio, especially surrounded by Nieve’s filigrees. These tapes show that the concerts were rougher affairs." Man, oh man, I wish Elvis Costello had used a producer who could understand the point of making these very formated songs rock HARDER than they do here, just like the live versions. You can't believe Nick Lowe produced the Damned debut when you're listening to *Armed Forces*. Don't get me wrong: the Attractions were a great backing band for Costello, and all of the songs are at least interesting. "Accidents Will Happen", " Senior Service" or "Goon Squad" all have amazing chord progressions and lively performances going for them ("Oliver's Army" is a more famous cut, admittedly, but its rococo piano flourishes are quite annoying and predictable in comparison). I also understand that what Costello fans like about this record is the contrast between the mellow sounds (even poppier than the ones of the previous LP "This Year's Model") and the snarling lyrics... But if you start listening to Costello fans, they'll tell you that seven or eight of his most cheesy-sounding records deserve to be on this list anyway (and I think Dimery listened, unfortunately--if he is not one of those guys himself). So maybe we should all remain cautious here... Besides, and this is something that already rubbed me the wrong way for *This Year's Model* (as smartly-written as its lyrics were--just like the ones here, generally speaking), I think there is something deeply flawed in the borderline-incel energy Costello displays in some of his lyrics. That strange congruence between takes on personal relationships and political references is indeed very awkward stuff (that congruence can be mostly found on "Chemistry Class" and "Two Little Hitlers"--the latter clearly inspired by another tune with a very close title written by producer Nick Lowe for his own *Jesus Of Cool*). Here I disagree with The Atlantic, whose writer sees those lyrics as prophetic genius. Nah, it's not. They just prove Costello was way over his head and didn't really know what he was talking about, and this whether it's about the personal and the political. When you're only equating love and dysfunctional romantic relationships with the dynamics of fascism or unmitigated capitalism, I think you're missing many important points about all of those things... And in any case, it shows how lost and cynical you are as a person. Therefore, I'm not surprised Costello then somewhat ruined said American tour with those awful drunken racist "jokes" about James Brown and Ray Charles, ones that went from private to public to everyone's outrage (thanks to Stephen Stills and his entourage--by the way, check out Ray Charles' high class reaction to the news, the man just saved Costello's sorry ass, and this without pandering to his slurs either). The question is: was Costello's passing confusion such a big surprise after all? In a way, it could already be sensed in some of *Armed Forces*' lyrics. Maybe that "new wave Bob Dylan" thing hurled at the British singer thing made him lost all sense of perspective and restraint... What really matters is that Costello apologized for the racist slurs right away and said there was no excuse or cohesive explanation for them. Astonishingly, he had played a Rock Against Racism concert right before the tour--so he *really* looked stupid, to boot. I guess he was lucky that this incident occured during pre-internet times, otherwise *more* than the tour and his charts ascent in the US would have been compromised. Costello now seems to consider the whole situation as a case of hubris, a case of ambition-going-dead-wrong. He says that he had it coming somehow, and that the setback such a public revelation triggered was actually beneficial to him in the end, both as a person and an artist. But one can sense this strange "hubris" of his was already doing weird things in this particular record, both musically and lyrically speaking. And for one, *I* could sense it before I even knew about this particular incident. It's like an elephant in the room, clearly. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 826 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 95 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 44 (see explanation below) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 37 Note to myself -- I remember giving a harsh 2/5 grade on *This Year's Model*. Or was it a 3? In any case, I've taken some time to reconsider the overall artistic and mostly *musical* intents of this other Costello record, and I get them a little better now, in spite of my early reservations (some of whom I still agree with). So I can bump up that grade to a 3 or a 4 now, and include the album in my own list of potential contenders. Costello is weird in many ways to me. My personal experience of his songs is that they are *always* slow growers, even if a lot of them are worth it in the end. That's why I'm gonna stay cautious with *Armed Forces* too, and give it a neutral grade for now. I still think the man's whole career is *way* overrated. But I can be reasonable, contrary to some of his most hardcore fans...

Probably Taylor Swift's best album. Which amounts to a 2/5 grade on this app. Pop music has seen far more interesting and talented female singers in the past (Dusty Springfield, ABBA, Madonna...). It also has more interesting and talented pop singers in the present moment (Billie Eilish, Dua Lipa...). And it will also have others in the future... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 800 , I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one--I mean... seriously, guys...)

OK, maybe *Heaven Or Las Vegas* should be included in an ideal list of 1001 albums, even if some of its instrumentations have aged quite poorly--it's a bane that many eighties LPs have after all, and three decades later, one could argue that such dated instrumentations are also adding a layer of quaint charm to the whole thing. Not so sure about *Treasure*, though, which is plagued by similar problems--even if its own gated drums are here closer to goth shenanigans than the more overproduced affair that *Heaven Or Las Vegas* is. Yep, hardcore Cocteau Twins fans will tell you the contrary, thay will certify that those goth shenanigans are what makes this one closer to a purer version of the band. But when two thirds of said band have disowned your favorite album by them, it seems that there is some of misunderstanding at play between artists' intents and their target audience. In a way, I'm tempted to side with the band here, given that the two albums that followed, the far less famous *Victorialand* and *Blue Bell Knoll*, have at least aged more gracefully production-wise. Besides, I'm not so sure about how Liz Fraser herself feels about this one. Maybe 100% of the band members actually hate *Treasure*, who knows? All those considerations aside, I guess that what the fans fell in love with on that record are the impressive vocal feats performed by Fraser. One gets the sense that there are no bounds she is reluctant to tackle and even explode on *Treasure*. But this blessing might also come with a curse given that Liz's voice admittedly risks becoming grating on some tunes. Yes, she is a gifted and adventurous vocalist. But "adventurous" often becomes *overkill* on *Treasure*. At some point she even goes to a yodelling mode, and it's easy to see why such Meredith Monk-like vocal feats won't sit well with each and every listener out there. You could even suspect they might even serve a hidden purpose: to convey how insubtantial and/or purely mechanical Cocteau Twins' music sounds at times... So my overall take is that *Treasure* is a mixed bag. Too bad, it kicked off with two catchy tunes, *Ivo* and *Lorelei*... But unless your mind and ears are stuck in 1984, what might have been new and exciting back then may now sound awkward or clunky. So next, please. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 824 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 95 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 45 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 38

I usually like stuff from the Warp roster. I think some of the earlier releases from that label have aged gracefully (even if they *do* age). But not this, though. What seemed leftfield or edgy at the time, and supposedly recorded during late-hours, weed-fuelled creative sessions (see that cover) now just sounds like boring background lounge music. Trends catch up with you so quickly for electronic styles, don't they? But even with that in mind, there's here none ot that quirky spirit animating J Dilla or Flying Lotus a decade later (I hear Nightmares On Wax is sometimes compared to them). Heck, even ultra-minimalistic DJ Krush, who operated at the same time for Ninja Tunes in a very close genre, sounds quirkier than that. Besides, and as far as that dubious "trip hop" label is concerned, there's none of the multi-layered melodic fest of Massive Attack or DJ Shadow's early records here, and neither the noir or vintage charm of deeply atmospheric projects such as Portishead or Broadcast. It's a bit bland, really. And overlong. And repetitive just for the sake of it. With or without smoking dope to it. So if you want to trip out to repetitive stuff, dub reggae probably works better thanks to its echoey nature and sense of space and time (there's *more* than a bit of dub in the basslines here, to be fair, but it sounds misplaced, even neutered, in the middle of those other dated sounds...) To put it in a nutshell, this record is more like smokers' *waiting room* than smokers' delight to me. Next, please. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 823 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 95 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 45 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 39 (including this one).

It took three decades for the audience to catch up on what Nick Drake was doing on his debut. And what he was doing was simply penning one of the most beautiful folk albums that ever came out of the UK (along with his own *Pink Moon* not so long later). Stellar guitar playing, stellar singing, stellar arrangements... And stellar songwriting all around: "Time Has Told Me", "Day Is Done", "'Cello Song", "Saturday Sun"... So many of those melancholic tunes are just classics now, along with all those that can be found on *Pink Moon* and a good half of *Bryter Layter*. In retrospect, it's just mindboggling that Drake was ignored at the time. But his light shines even more now that he has been rediscovered. At least, we can all be grateful for that. A few words of praise about Joe Boyd's gracious and timeless production also need to be added here, because the latter adds a lot to the songs' sense of sincerity and authenticity. No unnecessary frills here, just a few nice touches drawing from classical or jazz fields so as to enhance the songs' inner power in ways that can resonate directly into your soul. Take Robert Kirby's many illuminating arrangements for strings, for instance: their Haendel-like nobility on *Way To Blue* does not merely sound baroque, it also conveys how fleeting and vulnerable happiness is, in keeping with the theme of the song. And let's not forget Harry Robinson's own strings arrangements on "River Man". Combined with the 5/4 rhythm of the song, their ambiguous minor mode / major mode switches are the perfect bed over which Drake's mysterious river of questions can flow out of his sensitive heart. As for the lyrics, it's hard to convey how enigmatic and yet totally wonderful they sound over the music... "Fruit Tree" gives you the feeling Nick Drake was somehow aware of his fate to come--that he would be more famous dead than alive, even though it's not something he really seemed to care about anyway. What he cared about was the "Saturday Sun", happiness in the present moment, and once again, he knew more than anyone else how fleeting such happiness was, hence the melancholy of those songs. This too, brings a lot of beauty to his life's work. And the fact that it was such a short life makes this very album all the more precious today. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 822 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 96 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 45 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 39

The future has never sounded so interesting, fun, melodic and hypnotic. And ironically, you have to dig way into the past to find a version of it that can fuel your imagination like no other electronic record out there. Maybe because this very album is one of the first to fully go to that direction and never turn back. Beginnings have rarely sounded any better, frankly. Besides, everyone said it, but I'm gonna repeat it now: the influence Kraftwerk had on modern music wasn't circumscribed on this particular electronic genre. The band also gave ideas had to a vast array of other styles, from post-punk to hip hop. But even if you don't give a damn about all that, this particular album stands on its own. Because this here is Kraftwerk's true masterpiece. Earworms after earworms, *The Man Machine* takes you into Metropolis' world, both dystopian and utopian, so cold and robotic, and yet so frail and so human, in a way. Beyond the mechanical rhythms, there's a lot of subtle emotions to be found in those tracks. It's a lesson that the best electronic acts learned from this album. And it's one they should never forget. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 821 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 97 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 45 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 39

So OK, "Tiny Dancer" and "Levon" are amazing songs... But most of the other tracks on this record drag on until you feel all those flourishes in them are quite unnecessary, honestly. And this as good as they are sounding at first... So give me *Goodbye Yellow Brick Road* any time, it's a nearly flawless album. But for the rest of Elton John's career, I think a nice compilation will nicely do the job of getting you acquainted to his overall talent (there are at least *two* of those compilations that can do that job right, by the way--don't miss them). Some artists are just more fit to the singles format. And Elton John is one of them, I think. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 820 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 97 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 46 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 39

Not *exactly* my favorite album by Sonic Youth, even though it's part of of my top-five records under their name. My only real, admittedly minor gripe is its overall sound, somewhat flat and one-dimensional compared to a lot of other Sonic Youth LPs--one can see that producer Nick Sansano was more an expert for hip hop than for guitar-based bands at the time... That being said, this double LP is still a landmark album for US indie music, and its scope was unprecedented when it came out. The first two tracks--"Teenage Riot" and "Silver Rocket"--are absolute gems, and almost everyone other song on it is pitch-perfect, justifying the length of this historical masterpiece. So yes, light a candle and celebrate the riotous impact of this one, indie fans. American music has rarely sounded as essential as this particular album. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 819 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 98 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 46 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 39

Overall this record is slightly less ridiculous than I thought it would be. "Jump" and "Panama" are cheesy hits, but given the right context, their punchiness can trigger smiles and even ironic exhilaration. Everything after is just a pretext to make Eddie Van Halen shine, and I guess you have to admit his guitar playing is impressive. Oh, and those synths come back for a track on side two... But at this point, who cares? Does all of this make *1984* an essential album? Not for me. I can be open-minded for dumb stuff sometimes, but you need a music that doesn't sound totally artificial and tasteless, as is the case here. "Daft" doesn't necessarily mean pointless. That's the lesson punk music taught us all. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Too many of those songs are gratuitously meandering. In other words, they're a little self-indulgent, either because of the guitars or the vocals. And yes, I'm including "Killer Queen" here. Sure, you can't deny how inventive the music is, it never stays in one place for long. But "inventive" doesn't necessarily mean "interesting" or "well-thought out". And you can't also deny the reason why Queen's later hits were more effective and direct than any tune on this record, as cheesy as some of those later hits were. It has to do with one little thing: good, catchy choruses. They're conspicuously absent on this particular LP, and without them, the whole thing doesn't hold water, really. Apart from one or two exceptions, maybe, this band was a singles band anyway (as well as a killer live act). There was a good reason rock critics panned all their albums. Sometimes it's the audience who get it right, and the critics who get it all wrong. But I think that here, for once, it's the opposite. Queen can be both boring AND irritating in the long run, which is hard to pull off, in a way. Many people felt it at the time, and all nostalgia aside, a lot of people are still feeling it today. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Hazy, enticing, melancholic, heartfelt barriers of noise that take you into their warm cocoon. Simultaneously weird yet inviting. My favorite album from 1991, beating Massive Attack's *Blue Lines* and Nirvana's *Nevermind*, That's evidence enough for me that's it's a masterpiece, given who had the second and third slot. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 816 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 99 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 46 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 41

Iconic now, but so off-kilter back then. And yet, this record literally changed the course of rock history, thanks to its angular dynamics, its surreal ambience, the power it had evocating lust and madness and everything in between, not to mention Steve Albini's heavy drum sound (that will then be used to great effects for so many other rock acts). Black Francis' songwriting was also one-of-a-kind--and it seems that even Francis himself has now lost the precious formula behind the creation of those incredible songs... But the real miracle here is that had a different musician replaced one of the four in Pixies, nothing would have worked as well as it does here. Of course, there's Francis' crazed yelps and hectic rhythm guitar chords, unmistakably his ; but there's also David Lovering's oddball rhythms, unmistakably his, too ; or Joey Santiago's surf-flavored solos and hooks drenched in hot sauce, unmistakably his as well ; and Kim Deal's hypnotic basslines and husky background vocals, unmistakably hers. And the songs... "Break My Body", " Bone Machine", "River Euphrates", "Gigantic" (one of the best Kim Deal compositions ever), " Where Is My Mind", "Vamos" ... All stone-cold classics now. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 815 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 100 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 46 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 41

Sure, this album was sonically innovative at the time, but it also lacks substance when it comes to interesting vocal melodies. As a result each and every song blends into one another--once you've heard that very cool track "Two Weeks", it seems like a lot of the tunes after it are trying to repeat the same template, but with far less success most of the times. And when the songs are not trying to do this, they're just shapeless blurs supported by weird bloops and bleeps (see "Pendulum"). Sometimes innovation, weird sounds and full-blown eccentricity are not enough. You also need real songcraft to make all those things cohere into a stable whole. Fortunately, the tunes on FKA twigs' second LP, 2019's *Magdalene*, were a little more moving, effective and dynamic, while retaining the off-kilter, eccentric nature of those displayed on LP1. So it's a 'no' to *LP1* for me here. But maybe I could say 'yes' to *Magadalene* later on... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 814 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 100 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 46 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 41 (including this one)

It's a quick shot, barely ten seconds. "I'm a fool-to-dooo your-dir-ty work, oh yeaaaaah! I don't want-to-dooo your dirty-work, no mo-o-ore." It's nighttime, the radio plays an old Steely Dan hit, and Tony Soprano is singing at the wheel as he drives somewhere. The endearing yet sociopathic mob boss has the same bored, weary eyes as ever, but that scene is probably the closest thing in the whole series to a moment showing him having the time of his life. Tony knows them oldies-but-goldies standards. And he knows it's always deeply pleasurable to sing along to one of those as they pop up between Journey and Cream on the car's radio. Such are the simple kicks most of the great tracks of this album can give any listener interested in early-seventies rock music--even though the Dan had tried to go against the grain from the get-go. Sure, the whole thing may sound a little trite or quaint today, in 2022, but there also lie some of its charms. For those who are not in the known, Steely Dan then went on to create far more intricate songs, at least when it comes to their chord successions and other jazz-inspired shenanigans. Hardcore fans of the band will surely tell you that's when they put out their best albums--with haughty *Aja* reigning above all of them from its high throne. Frankly, I'm not always convinced by this take... Because when it comes to Steely Dan, the line between sophistication and convoluted overthinking has always seemed very thin, in my opinion, and this starting with everything that followed *Countdown To Ecstasy*. Comparatively, what *Can Buy A Thrill* can offer you is the best of both worlds: catchy songs such as "Reelin' In The Years" or "Do It Again" AND incredibly effective arrangements. I fear that after *Pretzel Logic*, catchiness just gave way to something far less dynamic, enhancing the quaint nature of the band's ideas until the latter became totally cheesy or strangely remote. In other words, arrangements and musical prowess can't do everything on their own in that sort of soft-rock genre. You need the tunes you can whistle under the shower, man. But maybe my ears are faulty here. And what I've said up ere is not even a claim I would make for other sorts of rock, indie-rock, or electronic acts. So who knows what I got right or wrong, huh? Another way to say I dread the day I will have to review *Aja*... In the meantime, it's *Can't Buy A Thrill* I have to review, and it's all fine, man. I can pretend I am Tony Soprano singing along to it at the wheel, and everything is peachy. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 813 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 101 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 46 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 41

If you've never listened to EVOL before, start with those lyrics excerpts: "My violence is the number Coming out of prayer Find it in the father Find it in a girl There's a thing in my memory Holding on for dear life With a feeling of secrets Beating up under my flesh My tongue is tied I'm sleeping nights awake Tom Violence is a dream Coming out of a girl" "Kiss me Kiss me In the shadow of Kiss me in the shadow of a doubt" "Close my eyes and think of you Everything turns black to blue Starpower, starpower Starpower over me" "We're gonna kill the California girls We're gonna fire the exploding load In the milkmaid maidenhead We're gonna find the meaning of feeling good And we're going to stay there As long as we think we should Mystery train Three way plane Expressway... to your skull" Now imagine the sort of music that could go with all those weird-yet-evocative lyrics. You'd need something that can convey all the conflicts and sexual tension and innocent arrogance and arrogant innocence and sheer elatedness and muted rage of your teenage years. You'd need a perfect mix of dream pop and indie-rock and terror noise and goth and bubblegum pop. You'd need an LP that literally never ends, with the last groove on the record being a locked one, circling and circling all over again on itself with its low rumbling maelstrom gurgling all the way to eternity. Teenagers always think they're immortal, don't they? You'd need Sonic Youth's first masterpiece. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 812 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 102 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 46 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 41

Masterpiece of hardcore punk rock. Sharp lyrics and vocals, over a music that's no less sharp. The best of both worlds, really. The biting sense of satire is everywhere, from "Kill The Poor" to that absurd "Viva Las Vegas" cover closing the album. And the instrumentation is often smart and inventive, with many infectious guitar-and-bass lines that are both angular and highly melodic, thus going beyond what the usual small fry in the genre can deliver. "Holiday In Cambodia" and "California Über Alles" are instant classics, and if their subject matters deal with news events from another era, their impact hasn't aged a day. Maybe because the times have only gotten worse. The Dead Kennedys had Pol Pot and Jerry Brown. Now we have Kim Jung-un and Donald Trump. One can't help wishing more folks had listened to Jello Biafra's politically charged vitriol at the time. But if general audiences listened to good songwriters instead of crooked politicians, maybe the world would be slightly less hellish as a result. On a sidenote, I also highly recommend the *Give Me Convenience Or Give Me Death" compilation. It has the single versions of the two last songs I've just mentioned here, and the sound and performance in those different recordings is superior to the album versions. Besides, this compilation also harbors other pivotal singles such as "Too Drunk To Fuck", along with incredible live documents showing how insane that band was onstage. If you're a fan of *Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables*, you can't go wrong with this one, really... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 811 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 103 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 46 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 41

Quite nice in the sense that this record draws from both country/bluegrass and soul music, two styles that are clearly apart, and yet often bridge the gap in quite elegant ways. Jazzy interludes and arrangement keep things lively and lighthearted, and the three singles and " are excellent. "Darkness, Darkness" 's fiddle or violin is close to hypnotic, "Sunlight" 's delicate ballade is interesting. and "Quicksand" reaches the level of emotions displayed in the best Otis Redding songs. Too bad that the rest is a little predictable, drawing from the meat-and-potatoes level of songwriting Creedence Clearwater Revival would use when they were not busy writing memorable singles themselves as well. One exception, though, is that "Rain Song" opening side 2 with its playful chords played on the higher part of the guitar frets. But such nice touches are too far apart in the album to make it an ultimate and downright memorable success, as good as it sounds on first listens. But with more time, who knows what may heppen? Go ask the mountain... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 812 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 103 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 47 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 41

I've been very harsh with each and every Genesis album this app suggested to me to now say something positive about... Rush. That would be in poor taste. So either I change my gradings for Genesis albums, or I just judge Rush accordingly. It will be the latter--even though I readily admit this record still makes Genesis shine in contrast. As chatty as he is, Peter Gabriel is a genius with words compared to Geddy Lee or whoever wrote this dumb stuff. Anyone impressed by an Ayn Rand story is just a moron anyway. And the thing is, the music is not so good either. Many times, Rush tries to imitate Led Zeppelin, but they only come off sounding thin and derivative as a result. Their instrumentation is often clichés after clichés after clichés. *Physical Graffiti* was released a year before this, goddamnit, and it's not so hard to hear the difference. Rush also steals a lot of stuff from The Who (that riff towards the end of the conceptual title-track), but musically, they don't have the sort of imagination Pete Townshend had for his own grand opera-rock statements. You can just sense they only copied tried-and-true formulas made by *others* to have a go at the charts. Unfortunately, it worked. So it's cheesy, it's derivative, it's probably conservative, and it's stupid. In 1976, the heyday of progrock was already long gone, and thanks to this record, it's easy to see why. Here, it needs to be pointed out that modern critics trying to rehabilitate this thing are just a joke. That 20-minute title track is just awful, everyone who's a little serious about rock music knows it... As a consequence, only "A Passage To Bangkok" (in spite of its daft lyrics, once again), "Tears" and *parts* of the clunky "The Twilight Zone" on side 2 can save this one from a 1/5 grade, and this thanks to few nice guitar, vocal or mellotron harmonies. It's still something to be happy about, but clearly, it's not enough to make this record an essential listen. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 811 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 103 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 47 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 42 (including this one)

Weird yet rich and wonderful, this is the record that led Bowie closer to "the European canon", i.e. the " Berlin trilogy". The title track opening the album is a wealth of lush sounds and deep themes with dark overtones, and it's never too late to be grateful Bowie just followed his most off-kilter instincts here. I've just read that the phrase "station to station" is not only about a train of decadence crossing Europe--aptly imitated through pedals by guitarist Carlos Alomar--, but that it was also a subtle reference to the stations of the Cross. High class double entendre, innit? Following this expansive two-part song (foretelling "Blackstar" 's structure), "Golden Years" is an enticing and lively invitation to shake your rump over the story of the singer meeting an angel, a scene which then segues to the beautiful prayer that "Word On A Wing" is (that bridge in it is one of the most precious things Bowie ever wrote). "TVC 15" is no less elated, even though the song is dramatically different in its intents, both lyrically and musically. It's a drug-addled tale about having hallucinations about a TV set swallowing your girl, and the thing suggests that the world projected through the screen might be as wonderful or dreary as the kingdom of Oz. And it doesn't hurt that the four-on-the-floor chorus in it is so damn catchy. "Stay" is a complex yet fluid funk-rock extravaganza about a call for redemption uttered by an impassioned lover, and the cover of Nina Simone's standard "Wild Is The Wind" closing the proceedings is one of the most beautiful covers ever made. Bowie was famously coked-out to the max when he recorded this jewel, claiming that afterwards, he barely even remembered what had occured during the sessions. Oh, and he also had the swimming pool of his Hollywood mansion exorcised in those days--he and his friends were convinced an ancient demon was dwelling there. Spooky, eh? Seems that out of the gallery of "characters" Bowie created throughout his life and career, the "Thin White Duke" was the scariest one indeed. By the point *Station To Station* was recorded, it was probably high time for him he shook off that persona (along with those drugs habits) and went to Berlin for a change of scenery... But that's the thing with geniuses... They can be in the lowest point of their lives on a personal level and still churn out masterpieces after masterpieces. And to borrow Mr David Jones' words, "it's not the side-effects of the cocaine. I'm thinking it must be love". *Station To Station* is exactly that: a labour of love. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Here's a blind spot for me. I understand why this record was important for so many western musicians, as it was a glimpse into the traditions of a whole subcontinent. But even with Ravi Shankar's pedagogical cues interspersed throughout the album, my ear is still untrained for this type of 'scholarly' music. Maybe I'm being too left-brained today to just let myself go and take those sounds as more than a continuous drone. The last track kind of accomplishes that sometimes, but it's still very fleeting... Hard to be anything but a left-brained listener anyway when you're being asked to grade a record you've never listened to through this app. Hence the reason why that grade will be perfectly neutral for now. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 809 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 104 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 48 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 42

A biting sense of satire on many tracks ("Rednecks"). Some amazing string arrangements on others ("Guilty"). Randy Newman sure has a way with music *and* words. But for now, the whole thing is still a little too one-note for me. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Dimery's list is heavy on Bowie albums, and generally speaking, I'm perfectly fine with this idea. Yet to be honest, I wish he had swapped *The Man Who Sold The World* (not included in his book) with *Young Americans*. Bowie himself has had mixed feelings about that particular blue-eyed soul transitional phase, depending on when you asked him about it. There are indeed two or three nice tracks on this record, especially groovy closer "Fame", co-penned with John Lennon. But as a whole statement, this album is probably a little too shallow and/or artificial to really be convincing to most of his fans out there... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

So the app asks me to rate this legendary record the day after Queen Elizabeth II passed away--and on this very day out of all the possible days The Smiths' aptly-titled magnum opus could have popped up in a span of three years or so... What can I say? I didn't need this coincidence to give this album five stars, especially with stellar songs such as "Bigmouth Strikes Again", "There's A Light That Never Goes Out" or "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others". Johnny Marr's guitar lines are incredible, and if Morrissey's voice is an acquired taste, it sure does wonders on this one (you can hate the Moz for a lot of reasons, but not for what he does on this particular record). So yep, it's an essential album. And now that I have witnessed the app mentioning it right after the event foretold by its title, I have another reason to love it. But maybe what just happened is not a coincidence at all and someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes. I wonder what sort of songs the Marr/Morrissey duo could have written about this situation... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  more than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

I am quite a fan of Simon And Garfunkel and I own each of their albums at home. But when it comes to Paul Simon's solo output, I've never really witnessed the same sort of magic in it. And it's not only because Art Garfunkel was not there to harmonize those vocal parts with him. Case in point: this album. Some of the arrangements are great (hear the ones on "Duncan" or "Armistice Day", for example). But generally speaking, the songwriting lacks the emotional heights of Simon's heyday with his former partner, and this for both the music and the very vague lyrics (some of those lines are pretty shallow and self-indulgent, aren't they? Even Simon himself seemed to concur when interviewers asked him about them later on...) It's still a nice record to listen to on a quiet saturday morning, when the weather outside is downcast. But it's clearly not an essential album. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 805 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 105 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 49 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 44 (including this one)

Probably the James Brown LP all fans of soul and funk should own, along with *Sex Machine*. I personally only own a James Brown compilation, and I plan to get those two one day. I wish I had had the time to revisit this live album today, but unfortunately, I didn't. Gosh, the pace this app gets you to pick up is as relentless as anything the Godfather of Soul himself ever put in his songs, lol. Where can I go on the app and ask for a break for weekends again? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: around 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

As far as I can remember, Patrick Bateman never ranted about this album in the novel *American Psycho*. I'm quite surprised by that, it's right up his alley. To be perfectly honest, I'm glad producer Trevor Horn could try his hand on all those 80s synth shenanigans on this one. He would put that training to good use on that other truly extravagant Frankie Goes To Hollywood opus later on (you can actually spot those sorts of production shenanigans on the short intro of "Date Stamp", for instance...). The orchestral touches are also quite effective, giving a little depth to the whole cheesefest ABC is so keen on building with this strange record... The thing is, as sophisticated as those arrangements are, they are still a little too overblown just for the sake if it to have aged as well as in other Trevor Horn's productions. And the songs are themselves not convincing enough. Where are the truly beautiful melodies? Where are the catchy hooks? Where are the moments that can tell you those songs could actually work on an acoustic guitar as well? Well... They're... nowhere in sight. So what's the point, really? I guess that in that electronic pop realm, ABC just can't compete with Eurythmics and their white-soul-meets-new-wave flavors, or with Depeche Mode and their dark elegance conveyed through subtle harmonies, or with Heaven 17 and their snarling, biting irony, or circa-*Dare* The Human League and their...well, *humanity*. Even electronic novelty pop needs something a little more profound and personal than the formatted elevator muzak *The Lexicon Of Love* has to offer. To return to *American Psycho*, here's a lesson that Patrick Bateman has never understood. But because humanity was his nightmare--and possibly Bret Easton Ellis' one as well--it doesn't mean that such nightmare has to become ours, too. There was still hope for mankind, even during the 80s. It's just that such hope won't be found in ABC's stifled and stifling... musical lexicon. So next, please. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 800 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 106 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 49 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 45 (including this one)

Rick Beato's videos explaining what's great about Tears For Fears are very interesting watches. To be honest, I didn't need him to convince me "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" is a great song sporting awesome arrangements and instrumentation. Because, hey, I thought so before. And yet I have to admit Beato's admirable passion for "Head Over Heels" didn't fully won over my own estimation that this latter track is not exactly up to the level of the first. Arrangements, knowledge about chords succession and sophisticated instrumentation are not enough sometimes, especially with 80s pop. You need that extra melodic spark that fully transcended the artificial sounds of that particular time period in popular music history. You've probably guessed it already, everything is indeed a little hit or miss for me when it comes to *Songs From The Big Chair*. "Shout", the second timeless hit from this record, is an incredible track, dark and relentless in its obsessive drive. Comparatively, "The Working Hour" soon overstays its welcome--that by-the-number sax solo can't hide the way this song actually turns in circles for way too long. "Mothers Talk" is more focused, but even with its grand chorus (erring a little too much on the side of 80s cheesiness), it can't compete with the band's best tunes from some of their other albums ("Mad World", "Changes" or "Sowing The Seeds Of Love", to name only a few...). As for "I Believe", "Broken" and "Listen", they're nice atmospheric tracks, but they still sound more like interesting footnotes, and not what makes the meat of a truly excellent record. In spite of my reservations, I would still grade this one with a 3.5/5 mark. As far as I know, it's still one of the 15 or 20 best LPs ever released in 1985 (the eighties were a problematic time for the album format--so one can't be too *picky*). But does that make *Songs From the Big Chair* an *essential* listen, even with the two undeniable hits in it? For everyone still interested in Tears For Fears who might yet have similar doubts, I suggest the compilation *Rule The World*. Minus two or three missteps, this compilation has all the major songs the British pop band has ever written--and this on a single disc. Those shelves harvesting all your favorite records can't extend forever, can they? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 799 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 106 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 50 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 45

Metallica is an iconic band in the overall metal style, there's no arguing about that. But let's try to be honest for a second: generally speaking, James Hetfield's delivery of his bland vocal lines is totally dull and unimaginative. Another guy actually *really* screaming his lungs out would have taken those songs up to another level. As for the music itself, it sounds way too paper-thin on this particular record compared to a lot of stuff that was later done in said genre, including Metallica's own "black album" (yep, a lot of critics were right: where's the goddamn bass?). So I guess that as far as albums go, you can keep *Master Of Puppets* and *Metallica* in your list of potentially essential LPs, if only for their cultural importance, and throw everything else into the "thrash" can. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 798 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 106 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 50 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 46 (including this one)

Another punk masterpiece. This one is hailing from Australia. The lyrics are good, too. And if the music's not exactly up to the level of The Clash and The Damned, it's still far better than the tracks usually played by punk bands such as The Undertones or The Jam. Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

I feel like I'm utterly lost when it comes to country music. I can't tell what makes an average album to a so-called masterpiece. And this one sounds very average to me, contrary to what many critics have said. Guess it's probably the "concept album" that *Red Headed Stranger* is that appeals to them. And maybe the barebones way it was recorded, too. The thing is, even in concept albums, individual songs should shine. And I feel like none of them do on this one. I remember giving Marty Robbins a 3/5 grade and excluding him from my own list. Yet in the realm of outlaw country music, Marty was a bit of fun at least. Maybe I was unfair, you tell me... Yes, maybe I'll even my judgment on him--because some of my final grades will certainly be different than those I gave on the spot for each album. It's another interesting thing when you're spending three years or so with this app on your phone... That being said, and compared to that Marty Robbins album in Dimery's list, *Red Headed Stranger* currently sounds dull and dreary to me. So I have no choice but to give Willie Nelson an even lower grade than that 3/5 mark I gave Robbins. At least for this particular LP... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 796 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 107 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 50 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 47

As usual with Steely Dan, surface cheesiness is quickly redeemed by top-notch songwriting, high-class jazzy instrumentation and pristine vocal harmonies. The first two songs, namely the Horace Silver-inspired "Rikki Don't Lose That Number" and the reggae-infused "Night By Night", are catchy cuts that are propelling the whole thing like in no other album of theirs (except maybe *Can't Buy A Thrill*). And after that, the other songs are generally very good. Lush brass arrangements and epic guitar solos abound, and if Becker and Fagen' surgeon-like precision might sound a little stifling at first, it can soon become a joy to get your head into it if you give the whole thing enough time to breathe. It's not always easy, I'll grant you that, because Steely Dan's jazzy shenanigans are indeed an acquired taste. But even if you're still feeling skeptical about them, two tracks in this album may help you understand that the band had a palette that was clearly broader than the usual cliché that goes around about their craft anyway. One of these two tracks is the short but impactful "Through With Buzz", transcended by its "Eleanor Rigby"-like string section. And the other is the quite intense "Charlie Freak", with its hectic piano part and final elated vocals for the chorus. Conversely, "Barrytown" and "Monkey In Your Soul" are undeniable clunkers--but the latter is probably only a tongue-in-cheek wink to close the album. That's the other difficult thing about the Dan. You're never too sure when they're ironic and when they are acting in an earnest way. But that ambiguity is *also* part of their overall appeal. So it would be a shame not to give this particular album a chance... A quick note to end this review: without Robert Dimery, I wouldn't have given said chance to the band, so I guess I can be grateful to him (and to this app). But I also need to add that the tabs are officially closed in my own list when it comes to Steely Dan. I'll keep *Can't Buy A Thrill*, * Countdown To Ecstasy*, *Pretzel Logic* and *Aja*, but I'll say no to all the other LPs. I know the 1001 albums list is heavy on them, but you gotta draw a line somewhere. I need elevators for my own "tower of songs", sure (wink to Leonard Cohen). And if I had to choose "elevator music" for those lifts, Steely Dan is the best choice by far. But there are other types of spaces in that tower of mine that need to be properly furnished first. Hope fans of the band won't hold too much of a grudge against me when they come to visit... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 795 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 108 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 50 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 47

Dimery and co. still haven't found a country album that would suit my needs. The best candidate so far is Marty Robbins. At the time I wasn't fully sold by that album of his suggested by this app. But since then, it's been a downward spiral when it comes to the overall country genre. To be perfectly candid, I feel like we're hitting rock bottom with this George Jones fellow. The title track is sort of OK for an opener, I guess, but apart from "She Told Me So" (a snarling number nicely letting on that its narrator is actually a fool being cuckolded by his girl, with a funny chorus to boot), everything here is a snoozefest for me. Boy does Jones sound like an entitled fellow when he cries about being dumped by his love interests (almost as many as there are songs here). An interesting concept album would be to have the ladies mentioned in this record tell *their sides* of the story and reveal how those men actually lost their respect. But I digress here... Musically speaking, there's also a lot that gets on my nerves in this particular record. One striking example: I can't stand when songs just switch to a higher key towards their conclusions. It's just a lazy AND cheesy way to write your tunes, and this in any genre. And finally, Jones didn't even write any of the songs here (minus *one* co-write, I guess). It's not a mandatory thing for each and every album I like. But when you add this to everything else, we are clearly verging towards 2/5 territory here, even 1/5, maybe... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 794 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 108 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 50 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 48 (including this one)

This is no *Plastic Ono Band*. Of course it's got the legendary title track, "Jealous Guy" and "Gimme Some Truth. Oh, and that track dissing Paul, "How Can You Sleep?", whose instrumentation is as lush as the song itself is bitter. But hey, I agree with John that up to 1971, Paul's solo output was dumb muzak indeed. So all of this is striking, but as I said, what we have here is no *Plastic One Band*. Because, apart from the four highlights I've singled out in my first paragraph, much on what can be found on "Imagine" is not up to the level of that true masterpiece. Even if it's good to very good, generally speaking, and remains an essential listen to me... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

A nice album, culturally and topically important. I find the music a little elusive on this one, though, even with "The Bottle" in the tracklisting. And I agree with a few reviewers in the comments saying that *Pieces Of A Man* should have had priority on this list, because this other Gil Scott-Heron album was as impressive cuturally speaking as it was music-wise. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 792 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 109 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 51 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 48

Given how much of an arse John Lydon has become as a public figure, it's a little difficult to assess the *very* experimental record that the first PiL album is on its own merits and flaws... But let's try. "Theme" is utter nonsense musically speaking, but it's quite an artistic statement as an opener. Gives you an inkling of that particular time when punks wondered where to go now that the "no future" mantra had shaken the world of music. Most people will turn their head away at first, but if you give it your full attention, the track has an uneasy-yet-hypnotic drive that can send you in quite an interesting mood. It's the conflict between the dub-inspired bassline and the pre-no wave sound of those meandering noisy guitars circling around you like vultures... "Religion I and II" is similar in a drier, less expansive way, so it's less effective. This is where artistic intent can't really hide the lazy writing. Post-punk has its own shortcomings sometimes, here exemplified by this track. "Annalisa" accelerates the pace to more recognizable shapes for the first time. Still lazy writing, but a nice energy here. "Public Image" is one of Pil's best songs. Closer to the Sex Pistols than everything Lydon has ever done on his own after the demise of his first band. Melodic and catchy, yet cold and menacing thanks to its drum sound. Lydon's voice does wonders on this one. "Low Life" is in the same vein. Nice chord changes on it. Oddly enough, this song could have been longer where other ones go on for a little too long. "Attack" is a more by-the-number punk cut in comparison. Yawn. "Fodderstompf" goes back to the nonsense mode that opened the album, but this time such nonsense is amped up to the max. The only good thing about this track is that it's quite impossible to describe. Give it a spin for yourself. Being totally obnoxious is the effect Lydon looked for here, and it's a complete success. Interestingly, PiL here opens a box with all sorts of trippy electronic toys inside it, but it's one they would use with far better results later on. End assessment: trimmed of half of its contents, *First Issue* would have made a fine E.P.. But as an LP, it doesn't stand the test of time. And there are a couple of later PiL albums that would have maybe deserved to be in this list, instead of this one... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Wow, I didn't expect to like this live album as much as I did. I'm not a fan of "jam bands", generally speaking. To give you a reference point, I find the supposed milestone that *Live/Dead* is extremely drowsy and quite boring, honestly (and don't get me started on the snorefest that Grateful Dead's studio albums are...). *At Fillmore East* sounds like a very different animal. Maybe it's because the guitars have such variety of intents, styles and sounds--Duane Allman and Dicket Betts were killer guitar players, drawing from jazz, blues and even country in ways that are both technically impressive and heartfelt. Or maybe it's because Greg Allman does such a great vocal performance channeling the inner bluesman in him, anchoring those jams in something everyone can relate to... All of this up there contributes to the pleasure I've had listening to this thing. But I feel that the main reason I could enjoy this record is that you can also sense how great the songs are (covers for the first part, originals for the second). And this even in the lengthier versions displayed here. I've read somewhere that the Allman Brothers didn't like that "jam band" moniker, and I'm starting to understand why. Yes, they preferred expansive live versions to what they accomplished in studios. But I think they never forgot solos and instrumental flourishes should be as important as servicing the overall compositions (and with tracks such as "You Don't Love Me", "In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed" or "Whipping Post", you have great material to add to). If the original version of this record had included a definitive version of the all-time classic "Midnight Rider", I would have probably gone as far as a 5/5 grade. I know this song appears on the Deluxe Version, but to be perfectly candid, I still prefer the studio version of this one. So I bought a "Greatest Hits" record with *At Fillmore East* to have everything I really need on my shelves. Gosh, this app is turning me to a dad rock fan quick, is it not? Who could have seen this coming when I started to explore this list? I, for one, certainly didn't... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 790 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 110 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 51 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 49

This record was such a shock when I was a teenager. Spent hours listening to it, not only for the concept album that it is, but also for the very dark songs, here taken as individual numbers. Simply put, it was the soundtrack of my teenage angst. Growing up and discovering punk, I kinda repudiated it. But now that I'm middle-aged, I finally went back to it. "Comfortably Numb" is such a great track, and Gilmour's solo at its end is the very definition of epic. "Run Like Hell", "Empty Spaces", " One Of My Turns" or "Is there Anybody Out There?" are menacing, ominous cuts. They can tighten your throat and cut your breath short. As for "Another Brick On the Wall", it sure has been played to death, but the two other versions of the song make up for it. And let's not forget the slowest, ballad-like numbers, like "Mother", "Hey You" or "Goodbye Blue Sky". They are delicate, upsetting and heartbreaking all at the same time. So yes, *The Wall* owes a lot to Roger Waters' own neuroses, paranoia and delusions of grandeur, and as such, it is the very caricature of what a rock opera is. Hence why some listeners had a somewhat sarcastic take on it, and this, as soon as the album was released... But since those topics are actually addressed in the story itself, it's pretty fitting to find all those all-too-grand moments in this record. This is where the potential flaws of Pink Floyd's last great LP became assets in the long run. Because, as far as rock opera go, you can't do any better than this. And since this legendary album was released, no one even bothered trying to top it in said genre. Evidence enough that it's an essential listen, even if you end up disliking it... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 789 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 111 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 51 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 49

It's quite beautiful, and nicely performed. But are the songs on this album striking enough to make the latter an *essential* listen? As of now, the jury's still out on this one. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Interesting production by Bob Ezrin, of *Berlin* and *The Wall* fame. Funny how children were also involved in those Lou Reed and Pink Floyd LPs at some point. I wonder if that's a coincidence or if it is the influence the producer had on the artists as he was producing them... Unfortunately, apart from "My Stars" and "Luney Tunes" (nice main riff on this one), the songs are not striking enough musically speaking. Even the famous title track seems a little overrated now. I understand some rock fans were in awe with Alice Cooper's persona, hence his place in the rock pantheon. Honestly, his voice can be a little grating--even annoying on some tracks--but I imagine its *outré* theatrics are actually the very thing that his fans have found endearing, so I'm ready to suspend my judgment here. Yet one can't help feeling all of this feels a little insubtantial, in spite of a few funny or memorable lyrics in some spots... Besides, there's something very weird about *what* this record is about as a whole. You have whiffs of a rock opera or concept album coming from it, but it's as if it was left unfinished, as if the band couldn't be arsed writing its ending at some point. It's not sprawling enough. And since most of the individual songs are nothing but somewhat derivative drivel, there's not much that can satisfy you there. Best (or worst) example: the "Grand Finale" instrumental closing this LP. Ezrin does a little of his usual magic here, bringing a vast array of synths, orchestral arrangements and nice guitar effects to the table. But take away those baroque trimmings and rococo flourishes, what we have left is just by-the-number rock'n'roll played and written without much invention in mind, ironically. It's a little as if you took out the make-up of a diva or a glam-rocker, and suddenly realize there's no one but a old hag or an old fart under all that paint. And here, in *School's Out*, you can easily see through those thin layers, as theatrical and outrageous as the lead vocalist thought he was. Sometimes theatrics won't fill the hole inside you. And the more you use them, the more that hole becomes visible to others. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Yes to *Back To Black* being included in the list, no to *Frank*. Its melodies are less striking, and its production--drawing from lounge jazz with a muzak flavor, not to mention relatively stale recycled 90s hip hop beats--hasn't aged well. Over that somewhat hackneyed instrumentation, Amy has nice bursts of energy, but unfortunately, such bursts sound a little off the mark sometimes--not that it was any fault of her own. Her voice deserved better music than that. *Back To Black* offered her that chance. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

The fact that the "White Album" has one of my least favorite songs ever made *by any band* on it ("Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da") and that it is yet my *favorite Beatles album* (not to mention one of my 20 favorite albums of all time), just speaks VOLUMES about how pitch-perfect everything else in it sounds for the writer of those lines. Even the most whimsical or supposedly self-indulgent few cuts in it have something going on for them. And don't get me started on the dozen of jewels you can find on those two discs. When it comes to the Fab Four's album discography, *Abbey Road* and *Revolver* are in the number 2 and number 3 spots, as far as I'm concerned. But *The Beatles* will always have a special place in my heart. It's such a joy and an adventure to get lost in that maze of melodies and tones and colours and 180-degrees turns. Rarely has an album deserved its reputation so much. Both a postmodernist "tour de force" and a gallery of heartfelt, inventive songs, this double-LP is one for the ages--the sort of record those "best of lists" just can't exclude or dismiss. It's also been a joy reading all those 5-star reviews on this app. A lot of us seem to be going through the same sort of exhilaratd experience as they're diving into this legendary album. An essential listen if there is one to be found. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 785 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 112 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 52 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 51

I'm in two minds about this one. As a Radiohead fan, I absolutely love "There, There", "Myxomatosis" and "2+2=5". " Where I Amd You Begin" is pretty good too, and I like how the lyrics on this LP naviagte between pointed political criticism and heartfelt moments of optimism (you sure that map on the cover to do that sort of thing, right?). On the other hand, *Hail To The Thief* is also the rare *good* Radiohead album that contains clear filler--half baked songs or rather effectless experimentation that could have easily been edited out to streamline the tracklisting on *both* "sides". *A Moon-Shaped Pool* is the other one of those good records overall where this happens too (*Pablo Honey* and *The King Of Limbs* are not convincing enough as a whole anyway to be labelled as a "good Radiohead album"). So what am I gonna do? I hesitate between a 4/5 and 4.5/5 grade. Now that you're reading this, you already know which sort of grade I have chosen. It's quite funny that I have not yet. What's for sure is that I will probably not include that record in my own list of essential listens even though I still think it's a good one. That will leave some room for other artists. Pretty sure that other Radiohead fans will agree with me that it's the right thing to do here. We're cool guys and gals, generally speaking. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter                

Interesting... stuff. Some nice and quite varied arrangements (using everything from melancholic accordions and pizzicato strings to steel drums and hectic piano solos), and a general sound that has aged very well overall. The nine minutes of original closer "Giant" just fly by for instance. This synth-pop/post-punk album could have been recorded yesterday and no one would have really noticed the difference with other similar releases today. The The sometimes reminds me of current artists such as Future Islands, Cate Le Bon, Destroyer or Amen Dunes. With that in mind, it's honestly quite a feat that *Soul Mining* was actually released in 1983. Is is an *essential* listen, though? The jury's still out on this one. Just like the current artists I've quoted, maybe the affectations and odd mannerisms heard and felt throughout this LP will wear you out after a while. And maybe it lacks a few straightforward highlights to make it more impactful as a whole. But maybe I'm a little too picky here, so take with a grain of salt the 3.5/5 grade I'm giving to this thing right now. Because, to be honest, I feel I'm gonna revisit this curious yet well-crafted album in the near future. In the meantime... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: 783 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 112 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 54 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 51

I was moved just reading all those 5-star reviews about this masterpiece, transcendent in so many ways. It transcends the genre it's in, it transcends the ears, and it transcends the soul. I don't think I can do any better than this other reviewer who jested about God having this album on rotation on his personal I-pod. God, or whatever higher power there might be out there... So I'll just stop there and let the music speak for itself. Number of albums left to review: 782 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory: 113 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 54 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 51

Quite nice. I probably need to listen to it more to get the hang of all these rhythms and arragements. Fela Kuti is still blind spot for me, as is much of music from the African continent. Maybe someone should write a similar 1001 albums book about music from other continents--one for Africa, one for Asia, and one for South America, that you could add to Dimery's book, mostly about music from the "western world". And then you'd keep the 250 best records from each book to give a global version of it. That would yield quite a surprising mix, wouldn't it? Number of albums left to review: less than 800. Number of albums I'll keep on my own list: half so far. Number of albums I might keep: a quarter (including this one). Number of albums I won't keep: another quarter.

Oh, well, Simple Minds. I remember liking *Street Fighting Years* when I was a teenager. And also *Life In A Year*, from their early, more post-punk phase (was it the name of the album, or the name of one of its songs?--can't honestly remember, and I have betterthings to do now than to check out those things). Sadly, whenever I tried to revisit this band, I found most of everything they've done cheesy and quite cringeworthy. Which is very ironic given that I have warmed up to a lot of other British eighties pop bands since my younger years. This album is no exception. A few decent songs here and there, but the whole has definitely not aged well compared to similar acts of that area. Now, I've noticed that this list singles out a lot of records that hit the charts when they were released. Hey, Robert, just because a record meets commercial success at some point in time, helping the band that recorded it to "break out", doesn't always mean that what they've spawned is... essential. Number of records I've reviewed: less than 800 Number of records I'll keep on my own list: half so far, approximately. Number of records I might keep: a quarter. Number of records I won't keep: another quarter (including this one).

The record is a historical landmark because it almost singlehandedly spawned a whole subgenre of hip hop, gangsta rap, for better (sometimes), and for worse (a lot of other times). In spite of the obviously dated sound, nice energy throughout, and plenty of killer rhymes and music. Now I didn't have the time to check the wikipedia page, but was this one selected by the Library of Congress for its "cultural importance"? Given the topics addressed by this album and the language used in it, I would roll on the floor with laughter knowing it's on those shelves... 🤣 Number of albums left to review: less than 800 approximately, I've temporarily lost count here. Number of albums I'll keep on my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I might keep: a quarter Number of albums I won't keep: another quarter.

I feel like I can understand the influence/importance Love this. There's ambition, a kind of cinematic aspect to much of the thing I don't understand there would probably be no radio head without this sawtooth wave the sound of this crab committing suicide and then I pump it all out through this shoe,  to give it that oaky timbre would probably be no a-lot-of-modern-music without  that oaky timbre that oaky timbre I'll tell you how it works, right? I took a note, I'll tell you how it works, right? this one sticks out above the others globetrotting rhythms globetrotting rhythms right off this pantomime four, a degree of nervousness that lets the wider world in, and an exorcist and an exorcist especially good for driving at night I'll tell you how it works, right? I took a note, I took a note a giant mess of sounds. I can understand its significance I took a note a vital funk injection что это очень интересный для меня материал. Ранее полагал a giant mess of sounds and an exorcist the sound of this crab commiting suicide that oaky timbre Bom simploriedade um dos malucos fez música com o Caetano. pretty OK, bit repetitive. bit repetitive bit bit bit bit bit bit repetitive repetitive bit repetitive ran it back here, re-jammed it through itself, looped it back, mixed it with Ранее полагал and let it stew in its own reverb for about three hours, right?  bit repetitive there  there I took a note a vital funk injection Bom simploriedade Globetrotting rhythms I'll tell you how it works, right? there there there bit repetitive sawtooth wave especially good for driving at night I'll tell you how it works would probably be no a-lot-of-modern-music without  that okay timbre ----- Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

I thought I had every Creedence track I need on that *Chronicles vol 1* compilation. Including a very large part of the tracklisting of this particular record. At least half of it, actually. And then I heard "Ramble Tamble". Jesus Christ, what an album! ---- Number of albums left to review: 77 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 116 (icluding this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 55 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 52

Decent nineties grunge-pop. Nice instrumentation and arrangements sometimes, like the Indian/oriental psychedelic flavours of the opener or "Dime Western". Or the church organ of "Sworn And Broken", and that mellotron (?) on "Traveler". Plus Mark Lanegan's presence, even though he was not at the top of his game yet. Is it an essential listen, though? Too many of these songs sound like each other for that, and the rhythmic patterns overuse a kind of dated rock groove that didn't age that well in that overall genre, all things considered. Number of albums left to review: less than 780. Number of albums I'll keep on my own list: half so far, approximately. Number of albums I might keep: a quarter. Number of albums I won't keep: another quarter (including this one)

It's the centerpiece of Bowie's "Berlin Trilogy". Of course, it's an essential listen, even though it's also a very peculiar album, side one and side two being very different things--pop songs and crooner's ballads mixed with some sort of krautrock funk for the first, and dark or meditative ambient pieces--most of them totally instrumental--created with the incredible Brian Eno for the second. Obviously I will give 5 stars for this one. Yet the fact that this album is often considered by certain subsets of fans as being Bowie's best has always sounded a little weird to me. Very close to the overall sound of the "Berlin Trilogy", I've always found *Station To Station* superior to any of those three LPs--and before that, *Ziggy Stardust*, *Hunky Dory*, and *The Man Who Sold The World* (and maybe even *Aladdin Sane*) will always be rated higher for me. At least if you go to detailed decimals. But I'm probably only nitpicking here. Don't pay too much attention to the ramblings of a relatively *recent* Bowie fan. Because there are all sorts of fans of his work out there, in keeping with this artist's amazing ability to shapeshift from one persona to the next. That's what's great about loving such a legendary artist. Number of albums left to review: 775 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 117 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 55 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 53

Badly Drawn Boy? More like Barely Sketched Attempts At Writing Decent Songs. Or Badly Conceived Album. That Mercury Prize jury sure had poor taste in music, it's not the first time I've noticed this... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

One of the most overrated albums of all time. Some of the songs are decent, sometimes even *more* than that (example: "I'm On Fire" )... But boy oh boy, how *poorly* the cheesy instrumentation and hackneyed arrangements on this one have aged. It's everything you could hate the eighties for, at least if you have even a little bit of taste left on your tongue. One day, *maybe* I will buy a secondhand copy of this one to complete my Springsteen collection, currently stopping at *Nebraska*. But it will probably be nothing but a completist consumer's compulsion, nothing more... Number of albums left to review or just listen to:  less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one, only for "historical" reasons and its popular appeal at the time) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Disco. Chic. Niles Rodgers. "Le Freak". And seven *far less* striking titles with it. Guess you would need to include at least one decent disco LP in a list of 1001 essential albums. But somehow, I can't bring myself to take that record seriously, not to mention that overall genre. Prejudice on my part? You tell me. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

I once had that album on CD. A rather fun listen, as far as I can remember. Then I lost this CD. But contrary to other lost ones, I never bothered buying it again. I think I'm starting to see why now... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 780, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Didn't have the time to listen to the album. I'm already late for the one that popped up on the day after. I did listen to k.d. lang before though, and my recollection was that she has a nice voice, but that her songs are not so compelling, generally speaking. I wish this app could allow me to go back to the few records I've missed and tweak the grades or reviews. But I understand this would be way too complex to manage for the person who conceived the app, so I don't hold any grudge against them. It's still a great app. Number of albums left to review: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here. Number of albums I will keep on my own list: half so far, approximately. Number of albums I might keep: a quarter (including this one) Number of albums I won't keep: another quarter.

I know *some* Suede fans love this one, but I still think most of the songs on this record are overblown and dreary (like its ugly cover, actually). When the debut album popped up, I only gave it three stars (I'm not a *huge* Suede fan, as you can see). Now I'm thinking my review of it at the time might have been a little harsh. *Suede* is still a very decent LP, and it actually deserved a four-star grade. I even bought a secondhand copy of it since. But this is probably as far as I will go to defend that band. I've tried digging *Dog Man Star* but it did absolutely nothing for me. I guess that this Suede guitar player must have felt something quite similar about it, since he left the band quickly after it. Or maybe it was the band that felt ill-at-ease about the music he wrote, beyond any of the personal problems they might have gone through as a band. One thing's for sure: the songs on the album after that one are way better. But are all those records that followed the band's debut *essential* listens? I highly doubt it. Number of albums left to review: less than 800, I've temporarily lost count here. Number of albums I will keep on my own list: half so far, approximately. Number of albums I might keep: a quarter Number of albums I won't keep: another quarter (including this one)

Never understood the hype about this band/project, even though they have nice cover artwork saying something about modern music consumption being like medication to the masses. Maybe that explains part of their appeal, ironically speaking. But when your *subsequent* album covers use the same frigging idea all over again, it's not merely lack of imagination that expresses itself. It's a sign you're becoming the very thing you were smirking about in the first place. As for the music, there is a lot of skill and nice instrumentation throughout, saving this record from a two-star grade. Said instrumentation goes from string laments and old seventies-like rock to noisy dirges and groovy moments--the latter somewhat foretelling what LCD Soundsystem would do in the next decade, but without the fun club pulse or drive. Most of the melodies and vocal lines are pretty unmemorable or unremarkable, however. Some of them are even *excruciatingly* boring. It's as if the sophisticated, multi-layered instrumentation was trying hard to make up for the lack of inspiration plaguing the songwriting. And it often shows. So I guess I won't drink that kool-aid everyone else seems to be drinking now. Nevermind if it's my loss. I'm pretty sure I can find more potent drugs elsewhere anyway. Number of albums left to review: 768 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 117 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 57 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 58 (including this one)

I dived in expecting to hate it. Turns out I don't, but I'm not entirely sold either. It all started well, though. The first three tracks, "To Be Young", "My Winding Wheel" and "Amy" are stellar songs. The latter especially. It's not easy to write a Paul McCartney song when your name is not Paul McCartney. Even Paul McCartney himself can't do it sometimes. 😁 Unfortunately, everything after that great start soon lost me. You have melodies that are somewhat nice once in a while. Other times, you have more than decent lyrics, and funny one-liners, too (as in "Don't Ask for The Water"). The problem is that you rarely have *both* good music and good lyrics at the same moment during the course of this very drowsy and slow-moving alt-folk-country record. "Shakedown on 9th Street" woke me up a little from that snorefest in the middle of side 2. But then, it was business as usual. Worse, some of the hillbilly twang affectations sound fake on several tracks, whether on side one or on side two. And you have the uneasy feeling Ryan Adams thinks he's the next Bob Dylan, except that the songs are not good enough for that. It's a skilled simulacrum, though. For this, and for those first three songs, I'll give *Heartbreaker* three stars. Number of albums left to review: 767 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 117 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 57 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 59 (including this one)

Air is a nice band, generally speaking. And this soundtrack displays some of their skills in quite effective ways. Then again, two decades later, this work is maybe a little too anecdoctical to be included in a list of 1001 *essential* albums. I wonder if *Moon Safari* is on Dimery's list. Now that's a somewhat groundbreaking album that had some relevant impact at the time. *Maybe* this one could be included in my own list... Number of albums left to review: 766 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 117 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 57 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 60 (including this one)

Joni Mitchell is an acquired taste, generally speaking, but I'm sure glad I acquired said taste for such extraordinary music. I think *Hejira* is probably my favorite record of hers, along with the poppier *Court And Speak*. I even prefer those two records to her earlier classic albums on the Reprise label, including the all-time great *Blue*. *Hejira* is the one record where she burned all her ships behind her so as to fully embrace that jazzy, sophisticated sound she would never completely forget in the rest of her carreer. Jaco Pastorius' fretless bass does wonders on it, but the guitar parts are insane too. Yet what seals the deal in it is what Joni's voice is accomplishing here. Her vocal lines are incredible, and the lyrics exploring that theme of finding yourself while on the road are driven and focused, as many other reviewers already pointed here. Brilliant literary writing all around. What struck me as I read some of those reviews is how laudatory the four-star ones were--actually suggesting a 5/5 grade instead. I'm pretty sure those Joni fans couldn't bring themselves to bring that higher grade because of the "experimental" nature of this record, and the fact that it is not *Blue*. But the two should *at least* be considered as equal in their overall quality. Both are masterpieces exploring the American psyche, and this in moving and sensitive ways no other record had attempted to reach before. To sum it up, *Hejira* is not merely an "experimental" album, it's an album with a lot of heart and intelligence in it. 5 stars is the least I can give for it. Number of albums left to review: 765 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 118 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 57 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 60

Out of the *three* Creedence albums that went out in 1969 (what a productive output that year, right?), my favorite will always be *Willie And The Poor Boys*, paving the way to their next LP (and masterpiece) *Cosmo's Factory*. *Green River* is surely a better record than the one before, *Bayou Country*. But even with its charts performance and upgrade in terms of recording and execution, it lacks some of the striking melodies that actually graced that earlier 1969 album--"Proud Mary" being the most famous demonstration of such melodic flair. In comparison to its two direct predecessors, *Willie And the Poor Boys* will have the best of both worlds here, with both "hits" and less straightforward cuts allowing the band to hone their skills in terms of songwriting and arrangements. To put it in a nutshell, I can't shake the feeling that *Green River* is very much a *transitory* record--an interesting one for casual fans like me, but not the stuff of legend that made Creedence Clearwater Revival such a legendary act later on. And as such, I prefer not to include it in my own list of 1001 essential records. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 780, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Being a fan of nineties hip hop in general (from A Tribe Called Queat to Mos Def, with everything Wu-Tang in between), I was expecting good things from this record. Sadly, it turned out most of the music on those tracks bored me to tears. I won't judge what Missy Elliot is doing on it--she's obviously a talented vocalist and lyricist. But a lot of the production work here sounds half-finished. Whoever put this one on the Rolling Stone top 100 albums of all time must be deluded out of their mind. Maybe if the music album had been grittier somehow, the whole thing could have been interesting. But instead, you have a crisp, clean envelope added to it that makes it worse, flattening everything out. Quite a huge letdown, because I like female rappers in general--but those in the business today just sound better to me, from Nicki Minaj to Cardi B, Little Simz, or even Megan Thee Stallion... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 780, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

A stone-cold classic. So many stellar hip hop tracks on this one, "N.Y. State Of Mind", " Life's A Bitch", "The World Is Yours", "One Love", "Represent", "It Ain't hard To Tell"... The stars just aligned for *Illmatic*, one of the strongest album debuts of all time. Yet chance was not the only factor that can explain such a hip hop miracle. What you have here is an incredible team of producers at the top of their game (DJ Premier, Pete Rock, Large Professor, Q-Tip and L.E.S.) providing the best cuts ever so that an incredibly talented lyricist and wordsmith can shine under the eyes of the world for the first time ever. Said world seemed to be his indeed. Nas was so young, and for someone his age to accomplish such a feat on his very first record is just the stuff of legend. Per Wikipedia, this is what Prefix Mag's Matthew Gasteier re-examining Illmatic and its musical significance stated in 2002: "*Illmatic* is the best hip-hop record ever made. Not because it has ten great tracks with perfect beats and flawless rhymes, but because it encompasses everything great about hip-hop that makes the genre worthy of its place in music history. Stylistically, if every other hip-hop record were destroyed, the entire genre could be reconstructed from this one album. But in spirit, *Illmatic* can just as easily be compared to *Ready to Die*, *It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back*, and *Enter the Wu-Tang* as it can to *Rites of Spring*, *A Hard Day's Night*, *Innervisions*, and *Never Mind the Bollocks*. In *Illmatic*, you find the meaning not just of hip-hop, but of music itself: the struggle of youth to retain its freedom, which is ultimately the struggle of man to retain his own essence." 5 stars, of course. The Source barely hesitated to break their "no-5-mics policy" back then. And you know what? History proved them right. Number of albums left to review: 762 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 119 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 57 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 62

Like Rush but tasteful AND lively. And to whoever wrote that review that said '"Like Rush but boring", I'd say that Rush's hackneyed and cheesy instrumentation actually sound very boring to *me*. Funny how music tastes work, huh? To come back to Yes, I remember being a little harsh in my review of their *Fragile* album, the one that was released right after *The Yes Album*. I still think *Fragile* lacks substantial content in some of its tracks, but three of them are just instant classics, worthy of their legend. My grade for it goes from 3 to 4 now. *The Yes Album* is a little more cohesive than *Fragile* in comparison, even though it has less striking cuts in its tracklisting. Some moments are incredibly brilliant though, foretelling the great things they were about to accomplish (including *Close To the Edge*) Whatever the case may be, Yes are still a band that is far more dynamic than many of their seventies or even eighties prog-rock counterparts, from virtuosistic yet empty pedants to self-indulgent hacks with a knack for artificial, kitschy arrangements (from ELO to Rush, basically speaking). Yes played hard yet never forgot melodies and emotions. In other words, they *rocked*. Number of albums left to review: 761 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 120 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 58 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 62

Only *nine* reviewers in here gave a 5/5 grade to this. Including a 80-year old lady who stopped giving reviews in 2021 after a few of them. I hope she's doing fine and just got bored with the app. It was lovely reading her impressions. Nice call adding the dates to the reviews, by the way. About *Odessa* now... Knowing this double album's "reputation", I expected to hate its guts. Turns out that out of those four sides, I really enjoyed side two. Everything from "Marley Put Drive" to "Whisper Whisper" was nicely done, with Beatles-like undertones (in the latter's mock-novelty-cuts guise) and/or catchy melodic moments (see "Marley Put Drive" and "Edison"'s choruses). Unfortunately, everything else is just schmaltzy drivel plagued with saccharine layers of nothingness. Those added strings sound as if you're stuck in a mental institution--I can imagine the album being played through speakers in a scene right out of *One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest*. Such music is so ridiculous it sounds like a perverted parody of itself. The songs have no build-up, no sense of direction and no focus (and this concerns the lyrics as well, by the way). Questionable production choices make some moments incredibly awkward. And don't get me started on the Gibbs brothers' leaning to overindulge in those horrid vibrato-laden vocal parts. So grating. Disco would later save the Bee Gees' asses. Who didn't shake a leg on *Saturday's Night Fever*'s soundtrack? But when it comes to *Odessa*, c'mon guys, let's be a little serious for one second. An essential listen this album is *not*. Number of albums left to review: 760 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 120 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 58 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 63 (including this one)

The title track, along with the two gorgeous ballads "Jersey Girl" and "Ruby's Arms" are worth your time. About the latter, rarely has Tom Waits sounded this moving, either before or after 1980. Unfortunately, everything else is very, *very* secondary compared to those three highlights. All the other songs are decently crafted so as to channel the American singer's usual persona as a poetic drunkard / beautiful loser / raucous film noir protagonist, but the jazz / blues / cabaret-like music is far from being spectacular here. There are indeed far better cuts to be found elsewhere in Waits' long and convoluted discography, from the early seventies to the late naughts. And when it comes to albums (a format where Waits can in turn be either extremely tiring or, conversely, struck by sudden genius), *Heartattack And Vine* is certainly one or two notches under *Closing Time*, *Swordfishtrombones*, *Rain Dogs* or *Bone Machine*. Number of albums left to review: 759 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 120 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 58 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 64 (including this one)

Another stone-cold classic. It's been 1969 okay for a long time now, all across the USA, but also inside the head of so many obsessed rockers, there and elsewhere. Likewise, fans have wanted to be Iggy's dog for decades due to those three insanely simple yet ravenous guitar chords every *loud* band has at least once practiced in their rehearsal space. And from that other cut that sneered about having "no fun", a whole genre spewed forth: punk rock. It's as if you're witnessing its lurid conception here, Iggy's lascivious howls and yells teasing with Ron Asheton's erect guitar riffs--sharp as a blade, driven like the pistons pumping in those Detroit factories, unrelentless. And this until *your* brain melts. With three cuts like that on your very first album, how can you lose? Of course, said album must not only be summed up by those three monsters, as sly "Ann" and that dark psychedelic, slowly entrancing, heroin-laden number, "We Will Fall", can prove it. John Cale's production is spot-on--meaning that you have the feeling that he didn't really intervene to change any part of that gorgeous sonic chaos, and just got the tape rolling to catch lightning as it struck inside the Stooges' bottle. This, folks, is how you're giving birth to an incredibly influential record. Such lightning would strike two more times, with *Funhouse* and *Raw Power*. I can't wait to give a 5/5 grade to those other two masterpieces. Good luck to the album that's gonna pop up tomorrow, ha ha. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 780, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

This one has a special place in PJ Harvey's discography, thanks to Steve Albini recording it. He hates the term "producing", you know, and for fans of his unmistakable drum sound, it's one of his best work ever, iconic in its own right. But all that would be useless if this record wasn't *also* one of the greatest collections of tunes PJ Harvey has ever assembled for an album, and, even more importantly, one of her best studio performances ever. Raw, pure, unburdened by studio production shenanigans (the ones Albini hates so much). You can't beat the emotion that comes out of albums like that when they're good. And this one is very, *very* good. Part succubus, part hysterical wench, Polly Jean teases you with opener "Rid of Me", displaying those nineties quiet-loud-quiet dynamics in quite an extreme understanding of them, and relentless in its obsessive, clearly sexual thump. Then, after that terrific introduction, she piles on inspired swampy blues riffs like it's only a second nature to her, shredding them one after the other until her hands bleed. It's as if the great African American bluesmen of the past were possessing the spirit of a white middle-class British girl, her body shaking with the tremors and emotional scars they left inside her innocent soul. Don't call the exorcist, please, because it's a treat listening to this young woman moaning, yelling, grumbling, hushing, shrieking, or just simply lulling or singing those admirable tunes--that some people complained that the voice was buried in the mix has always seemed mind-boggling to me: actually, given what PJ Harvey sometimes does with said *outré* voice, it would probably have been very awkward to listen to had it been louder. Here, it's just perfect, especially if you add the fact that the lyrics are one of a kind too, filled with suggestive innuendoes, more graphic details, and Freudian slips of the tongue. Check out "Man-Size", "15 ft. Queenie", "Dry", " Legs", "Snake" or "Yuri G" for examples of that. There's an understated S&M / bondage mood hanging over those lyrics and music. But even if you don't get kinky that way, it's a treat, lyrically and musically speaking. To put it in a nutshell, Polly Jean puts on a hell of a freak show here, and yet she is so inspired, and sounds so entranced, that the results are actually nothing short of blissful (see closer "Ecstasy", for instance). Through mud, she digs gold. Through a sense of the grotesque, she reaches sublime skies. This here is the mark of the true Romantic. And it doesn't hurt that said Romantic is also such an insanely great singer and guitar player. One that's raw, pure, unburdened--except by that delta devil whispering devilish things in her ears. You still haven't called that exorcist, I hope. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 780, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

The Police was a great band for singles, but as far as LPs went, all of their albums were quite uneven, with filler that didn't age well at all. This one here is no exception, even though it has a few iconic tracks. Now the question is, if because of those singles you had to save *one* album by The Police, which one would you save? Not an easy one to crack out, believe me. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 780, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one, *maybe*) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

"I went away to see an old friend of mine His sister came over, she was out of her mind..." "Schizophrenia", the track that opens this album, is the birth of Sonic Youth as a legendary, iconic New York act. Everything that happened before during the band's early "no wave" trajectory converges to that melancholic guitar riff supported by Steve Shelley's bouncy toms, along with Thurston Moore's dreamy voice humming that David Lynch-like yarn over them. And everything that occured after that minute or so, for the band themselves, but also for the indie scene at large--years and even decades into the future--is a consequence of that incredible introduction where the band merged its abrasive, dissonant, unapologetically arty vocabulary with the most blatantly poppish instincts out there. From that moment I heard that introduction then dissolve into a maelstrom of intense, gripping sounds, I knew I would love this band forever. They were pointing the way into the future, to the nineties and beyond. Sadly, not a lot of folks realized this in 1987. I wish I had been there to tell everyone to *listen*, to *really*, *really* listen. They would have dismissed me as a deluded fan, I imagine. How wrong they would have been. You just need to *properly* hear the first minutes of that album to know. *Sister* is filled to the brim with transcendent moments like that, from the sheer aggression of "Catholic Block" to the oneiric, foggy atmosphere of "Kotton Krown", from the jangling, twisted guitar lines of "Tuff Gnarl" to the relentless, obsessive compulsive pulse of "Pacific Coast Highway". Moore hums, croons or shrieks. Gordon singspeaks and snarls as if she was sneering at death itself. Ranaldo utters apocalyptic preaches to an invisible congregration, *us*. Guitars wail, wince, drill and tinkle. The lyrics immerse you into a Philip K. Dick's alternate universe where industries of the heart and factories of the flesh mingle as if they were driven by the same mechanical pistons. Teenage lust, romantic impulses and cerebral digressions conflate. The air itself is buzzing with electricity around the schizoid characters populating those songs. Even silence, or what's left of it, seems to buzz. *Daydream Nation*, the album that followed *Sister*, is said to be Sonic Youth's magnum opus, thanks to some of its iconic cuts, its length, and its topical ambition--not to mention its overall sound, one more streamlined than in here (read: "more flat"). But make no mistake, *Sister* is iconic in its own right, and it is as much a masterpiece as *Daydream Nation* is, maybe even more so. A lot of Sonic Youth fans know this already. And they can't keep this a secret. I certainly can't. Now go on, call me a deluded fan. I'll only reply with one word. *Listen*. Number of albums left to review: 755 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 123 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 59 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 64

I've had this album at home since it came out, I don't remember how I got it exactly (a gift from someone?). Somehow, I've always found it well-crafted, and yet the whole thing never gelled for me the way other ambitious hip hop records from my collection have. Before 2022, you'd have east coast hip hop that sounded "fresh" and spontaneous with A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul or Mos Def, and after that you have other rap albums that are actually far more eccentric and daring in their experimental impulses than *Phrenology* was--as daring and experimental as the latter is itself. Heck, the early naughts also saw Outkast reach their creative apex, and they were already breaking a lot of rules in the genre--much more than the Roots did, actually, in spite of their good intentions. Compared to all those other references, it's as if this album was a little too stuck in its "transitory" sound. As if it was a little *tame*, somehow, awkwardly moving from the past without exactly pointing the way towards the future either. And this relatively lackluster aspect of the album is especially clear towards its end, clearly failing to inject some significant momentum to the proceedings (you don't have that sort of problem with the masterpieces made by Mos Def, Nas, The Goats or Kendrick Lamar)... Some tracks are quite memorable, though. "Rock You", "Rolling With Heat", "Thought @ Work", " The Seed (2.0)" and "Break You Off" are all great. "Water" is, too, even though its experimental coda is some weird, weird shit (and this comes from a fan of krautrock/komische music here). Oh, and obviously, Black Thought is an amazing lyricist and vocalist. I've had the luck to see The Roots onstage at a festival once to hear him live, and it was a great rap show--especially with all the live instruments around him. Yet as talented as this band is, and as nice as this record is generally speaking, I can't bring myself to give it the highest grade or even *instantly* include it in a list of essential listens. The Roots' hearts and brains were in the right place, they had all the right intentions, and, on paper at least, it seems I should love this record. Yet I only *like* it. So I'll give them a 4/5 grade, and for once I'm gonna break my sacrosanct rule that all 4+/5 records should be included in my own list. I know some very important rap albums have not been included in Dimery's book and I want to give them a chance to be a part of my own selection of 1001 albums. Call my picky if you want. At least it's just awesome that this app brought me back to this record. I have too many of them at home, and it's always nice to have sudden incentives to revisit stuff from those shelves. Number of albums left to review: 755 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 122 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 60 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 64

A warning for the faint of heart: at some point towards the end of track number 9, and this without any preliminary precautions or foretelling signs, LCD Soundsystem decided to use a *different* chord from the one they'd been using since the start of the 5-minute song (or is it since the start the whole album? Or maybe their whole discography?). It's, for all intents or purposes, a devastating twist. The history of modern music might never recover from such a bold move. Consider yourselves warned here. All sarcasm aside, this is *not* a bad album. The overall tone is pretty dark, which is a good thing, actually (and justifies its "monotone" nature harmonically speaking). James Murphy channels his inner David Bowie and inner David Byrne in quite effective ways, and if some of the lyrics are a bit on the nose, they are still painting a compelling picture of what growing old means for all of us. Some of the flaws soon become endearing here, they are part of the entropic nature of the subject matter, and as such, they make sense somehow. That being said, this is definitely not the best entry point into LCD Soundsystem, because the line between endearing flaws and ones that can break the charm in a second is still very thin overall in *American Dream*. And to be honest, the whole context around this record makes it somewhat suspicious. Always found it weird that James Murphy publicly announced the end of the band during the early 2010s, to then suddenly change his mind about it only five or six years later. Murphy has obviously never been a "reliable" storyteller, as his art proves now and again. But just like the music on this record, there's something a little superficial and hollow in such a last-minute decision. If you're in the right despondent mood, the blatant sense of desperation Murphy might have felt when he changed his mind again may talk to you. But there are other ways to appreciate music than wallowing in complacency or self-indulgence. And this, even for the darkest sorts of it out there... Number of albums left to review: 754 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 122 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 61 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 64

Caught between *Innervisions* and *Songs In The Key Of Life*, it's always been hard for this one to have its own little place under the sun. In a way, this is understandable since not all the tracks on it are up to the level generally found in those two legendary albums--the first three songs, especially, rely a little too much on that sort of cheesy schmaltz Stevie Wonder will be associated with during the eighties. It's as if he stepped the wrong foot forward when starting this album, hence my own reluctance to list it in my own *essential* listens. Yet half of those tunes are still worth your time if you enjoy Stevie Wonder's "classic" years. "Boogie On Reggae Woman" slaps quite hard, displaying one of the best synth basslines Wonder ever wrote. "You Haven't Done Nothin'" succesfully continues that streak of songs following the "Superstition" template (after "Higher Ground " in *Innervision* and before "Black Man" in *Songs In The Key Of Life*). The lyrics on this one, denouncing the complacency of elites and governments, haven't aged a day. Unfortunately, I would add... Next highlight is one of the most precious and heartbreaking ballads Wonder has ever penned: "They Won't Go When I Go". Meditations about faith and death have rarely felt this soulful. What ensues after that deeply emotional moment goes to a totally different direction, with the bossa-nova/samba/Brazilian carnival-inspired "Bird Of Beauty". There's a great groove running throughout the track, plus a verse sung in Portuguese--I can swear the temperature in my living room just went a couple of degrees higher when I played that one. And finally, right after "Bird of Beauty", you have closer "Please Don't Go": just like the album itself, the song starts a little meek, but then builds up to a shining conclusion--nothing up to the bar "As" and "Another Star" will raise for the ending of *Songs In The Key Of Life*. But nice stuff nonetheless. Reading myself here, I understand my initial statement of this album as a whole might be a little harsh given the number of gems on it. Who knows, maybe I'll warm up to the other tracks later on? In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: 752 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 123 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 62 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 64

Can't beat that review that said this "might be the Platonic ideal of hip hop". That reviewer is right on so many counts. If only because this album sounds as if it was recorded in a cave dug in the middle of projects, and yet is never ashamed of what it is, even developing a whole mystique around its lo-fi beats and minimalistic piano loops, or around its soul samples and rough rapping about destitute parts of New York. Shadows and light create a mesmerizing spectacle on the walls of this dark, dark cave. Each rapper in the collective effectively displays a specific personality or an idiosyncratic style (nicely expanded in each one's first solo forays) and RZA has a flair for catchy hooks drawing on a very *idealized* vision of eastern culture--mostly through kung-fu movie samples, but also through its ascetic ethos and borderline-zen aesthetics. The end result is as pure as it gets. Distinctively from its day and age and yet timeless--which is where you recognize a true masterpiece, whether it is in rap, rock or any other style of music. Even the overlong skits are bringing something that's actually relevant to the table--being part of what makes this record a quintessential one in the whole hip hop genre. A Platonic ideal indeed. Word. Number of albums left to review: 751 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 124 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 62 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 64

One of the nicest outcomes using this app has had on me is that it helped me revise my judgment on Elvis Costello. Don't pay too much attention on the reviews I've left here about *This Year's Model* and *Armed Forces*--I just needed a little more time to digest Costello's peculiar aesthetics in those early records of his. In spite of my initial reluctance, I actually went back to those LPs to finally understand what's great about them. So I guess you can add one point to the grades I've left at the end of those reviews. Sometimes, a day is not enough to understand somewhat convoluted sorts of songwriting that are actually stellar once you get the hang of them (see also: Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Vampire Weekend or Lana Del Rey). That being said, and this time I'm dead set I'm not making a mistake here, I don't think *Brutal Youth* should be included in a list of 1001 essential listens. This record is decent and generally well-crafted, of course (because, hey, it's Elvis Costello here), and the first four tracks are lively and witty enough to give you the idea that you're in for a great ride. Yet, unfortunately, and apart from "20% Amnesia", everything after soon becomes a little too drowsy and self-indulgent. Costello does what he usually does, i.e. penning sophisticated lyrics that are sometimes too obtuse and smart for their own good, along with composing middle-of-the-road pop rock tracks that are as much a showcase for his harmonic skills as they are easy on the ear. The problem is that in more than the two thirds of this LP, you can't help feeling that none of those songs are really memorable, at least not in the way its counterparts were in Costello's more famous LPs. Besides, the vocals sound a little off sometimes, as if Elvis's intentions as a singer were not that clearly defined during the recording. It's a problem that also plagued an album such as *Blood & Chocolate* before, but at least you had a highlight like "I Want You" in it to make up for those shortcomings. There are a couple of highlights in *Brutal Youth*, I'll grant you that. But they aren't as good as the song I've just quoted here, and they're certainly not up to the level of *most* tracks on Costello's early records. To put it in a nutshell, it's hard for me to imagine many casual and even not-so-casual fans of this artist actually singling out this album. So, next, please. Number of albums left to review: 750 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 124 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 62 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 65 (including this one)

Elevator music. The sort that's only bearable if you're going to the second floor. Very corny lyrics as well. *This* won three Grammy Awards, including Album of the Year? Seriously? Seems to only show one thing: the late eighties were a very bad time for *good* pop music. Bland songwriting all around (with nine covers out of eleven tracks, you could at least choose songs that are better than this), cheesy or hackneyed instrumentation, professional but soulless performances... There's nothing to save this utter debacle, not even Bonnie Raitt's more than competent singing. Oh, the fake reggae shenanigans of "Have A Heart" are somewhat refreshing at some point, at least compared to the blandness that's before and after it (and probably helped a lot in the album's commercial success thanks to the song's promotion on MTV). But that's the only positive thing I can say about *any* of those lame songs. About the larger context about this record, the whole story about Raitt going through a rough patch, both personally and professionally, before finding unexpected success with this album, doesn't change anything about my assessment up there. I'm happy for Raitt, she looks like a nice person, and probably deserved to be cut some slack as an competent artist who had already worked long in the business. But that sort of "storytelling" has nothing to do with the music itself. When you read that raving retrospective review Pitchfork gave about the album, it's just appalling. 80% of it is about that story, not the music itself. This is *not* how you should assess the quality or flaws of a record. Context is important, but never to that point. Between 2012 and 2020, this album went from number 230 to 492 in Rolling Stones' list of 500 greatest albums of all time. You can bet your cowboy boots it will be out of that list in subsequent versions of it, probably the next one if its editors have a shred of good sense left in their minds. And I hope it goes out of Dimery's list soon as well. You just *can't* have so many glaring omisions in the 1001 albums book to make room for such a bad record instead. Number of albums left to review: 749 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 124 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 62 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 66 (including this one)

Musically, this is nice and smooth background music. Lyrically, this is obviously a very topical album, in keeping with its title and cover art. I've known the original photography for years, by the way, but I didn't know Curtis Mayfield had used it for one of his records. That's quite interesting... That being said, let's address the elephant in the room here: this is no *Superfly* soundtrack. Actually, it's probably two ot three notches under it in terms of sheer impact. And you know what? Even as soundtrack music for a blaxploitation b-movie, *Superfly* could still be pretty topical itself, yet never forgot to slap *hard* in terms of groove or sheer musicality. I understand the intention is obviously different here, and I can still respect it a lot. But if I want to go for smooth and not-so-smooth songs that are addressing topical issues, I'd rather go to Stevie Wonder first. With only ONE track from *Songs In the Key Of Life*, "Village Ghetto Land", or ONE track from *Innervisions*, "Living For The City", Stevie hits a nerve this whole record can't totally hit. At least for me. See also Marvin Gaye's *What's Going On* or Gil Scott-Heron's *Pieces Of A Man* for other musical masterpieces dissecting those "American" themes through laidback instrumentation and songwriting... Number of albums left to review: 748 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 124 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 62 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 67 (including this one)

I thought I hated Lorde's songs. Turns out I don't, at least on this particular record. Guess I just needed to spend a little more time with those tunes to actually appreciate them for what they are. By the way, I've also tried doing that with *Pure Heroine* and *Solar Power*, the two records bookending this one, but it's still not working for me. The first was way too amateurish in its production (a clear flaw for such blatantly "commercial" records), and even though it pointed towards the future when it comes to gritty teenange female pop singers, it didn't have anything that Billie Eilish didn't do ten times better almost ten years later. Sometimes too soon is too soon, even if your heart is in the right place. As for *Solar Power*, it was clearly lackluster in terms of hooks and overall energy. And just like her very first record, it didn't have nearly enough good songs in it to justify being included on that sort of list.. And yet, oddly enough, I quite like *Melodrama*. Maybe it's Jack Antonoff's input as a producer and co-writer that's doing wonders here. Admittedly said input doesn't work all the time, as *Solar Power* proves it. Yet the man is still able to dig gold when he guides or counsels all those hip female pop singers, from Lana Del Rey to St Vincent (to which you can add Taylor Swift depending on the project at hand). Or maybe the *real* charm here is Lorde's self-deprecating personality seeping through those songs, and the way the latter's choruses consequently sound both earnest, strong even, while retaining something very fragile in them, paradoxically. I'm not surprised some listeners compared her work on this album to the one of Kate Bush. Both artists seem to have the same sort of ambiguity here, even if Bush is obviously the most talented artist of the two. In a similar line of thought, the Kiwi singer's very original delivery of certain key moments is another strong asset on those tracks. No one can sing like Lorde, with that strange drawl that seems to let her play around the beat as if she was half-drunk yet still very energetic and awake. Somehow, I feel such voice thwarts pop conventions a little, even with the pristine production shenanigans that Antonoff applies to it. Add to this a devastating piano ballad about facing yourself in the mirror such as *Liability* (foretelling Taylor Swift's *Anti-Hero*, just released as those lines are written), among many other similar examples of effective personal confessions, and you have quite a satisfying and even *complete* mainstream pop album. Oh, and one shouldn't forget a few endearing, borderline-comical moments sprinkled throughout this record. Like when Lorde announces things are "really gonna blow" in *Homemade Dynamite*, only for the music to suddenly stop so that she can let out a ridiculous and childish imitation of a wet firecracker going off. Or when she half-confidently states about her and her lover : "We're the greatest / They'll hang us in the Louvre / Down the back, but who cares--still the Louvre", and this in sudden singspeak *nicely* taking you out of the song for one second. To be honest, I quite agree with Lorde's meta-assesment of her own worth here. And so, consequently... Number of albums left to review: 747 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 124 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 63 (including this one--down the back, probably, but still in *my* list of the best 1001 albums ever) 😉 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 67

What a genius idea Page, Plant, Jones and Bonham had when they decided to complete their sessions for this album with outtakes from *III*, *IV* and *Houses Of The Holy*. This idea resulted in one of the best double albums of all time. Because apart from two obvious "fillers" on side D, everything else is just pitch perfect, resulting in a tracklisting that naturally flows from one gem to the next, in spite of its versatile contents and some subtle differences in sound between the different sessions. And those two fillers I've just mentioned still manage to do their moody job right--in modern times, unburdened by the constraints of duration for vinyl records, those two tracks would be what is now known as "bonus tracks". Take them out, and you'd have a stellar double album anyway. All of this is already a good reason to have *Physical Graffiti* on your shelf, but even if you dismiss everything I've just said in my first paragraph here, this record would still get a 5/5 grade from me (and obviously be part of my most essential albums of all time). And this thanks to four absolute bangers: " In My Time Of Dying", "Trampled Underfoot", "Kashmir" and most especially "Ten Years After", the best ballad Led Zep have ever penned and recorded. Yeah, yeah, I know, "Stairway To Heaven" is not so bad, as overplayed as it is. But it is still a notch under "Ten Years After". And this, my fellow music nerds, is worth the ticket of admission here... Number of albums left to review: 746 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 125 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 63 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 67

The only problem with this record is that it doesn't include "Strawberry Fields Forver", recorded during the same sessions. Had the Beatles found a way to add it to the tracklisting of *Sgt. Pepper*, instead of releasing it as a single or putting it in the *Magical Mystery Tour* compilation, this legendary album would have become my number one entry in their discography. But hey, it's still *Sgt. Pepper*, right? Between the title track, "With A Little Help From Friends", "Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds", "Getting Better" "She's Leaving Home", "When I'm 64" and "Life In A Day"--the most formidable mystical/metaphysical closer ever penned this side of the English Channel--there are enough wonders for everyone here. As is the case with some other five-stars albums, I won't write a full-blown review about this particular record, because others have already written wonderful stuff about it and there's not much I can add that I feel could be relevant and interesting. It's just a gem. Go and listen to it a.s.a.p. if you haven't already. Number of albums left to review: 745 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 126 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 63 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 67

Another shock rock LP from the infamous Alice Cooper. Just like *School's Out*, there are a couple of really good tunes in it, but it's not enough to make the album an clear contestant to become an essential listen, especially so many decades later and with all the great music in all genres that have come to be made since... It's a bit sad, but you probably need room now for more *serious* stuff, especially in a list of 1001 albums you need to listen to before you die. Stage pyrotechnics and gruesome theatricals don't count when you're only assessing good or not-so-good music in albums (although I hear that Alice Cooper's gigs were very fun to *watch*, at least...). Ask yourself this question: would you see those tracks being used in a movie today, even if it's only to give a "vintage" mood to a scene? I think most of those tracks wouldn't work here. Especially compared to other great songs made in 1973, or around that time. It's not that *Billion Dollar Babies* is not worth a little detour though, at least for fans of 70s hard rock and/or fans of, let's say, parodic, er... "topical", ahem, songs. "Elected" is a great track about American political spectacle that hasn't aged a day for instance, both musically and lyrically--actually, while I listened to it, I daydreamed about Trump choosing it for his 2024 (re)election campaign. At this point, I wouldn't even be surprised if the crook and liar actually chose it for real (what's sarcastic and ironical about the tune's lyrics is exactly what the damn fool thinks in earnest about himself). Alice Cooper were clearly prophetic here. Unfortunately, I might add. Apart from that, the most interesting tracks on this record are probably on side two. There you have "No More Mister Nice Guy", a classic rocker with hilarious one-liners. But most of all you have "Generation Landslide", "Sick Things" and "I Love The Dead" (count the goofy interlude "Mary Ann" out). I say "interesting" because those latter cuts are not exactly *easy* listens, but at least they are as "shocking" lyrically speaking as they are off-kilter, expansive and surprising when it comes to the music (producer Bob Ezrin is here honing his operatic skills again after *School's Out", and a few years before Pink Floyd's *The Wall*). By the way, the lyrics in "Generation Landslide" and "Sick Things" are even quite bright and sophisticated. It seems that when you enter Alice Cooper's circus, you might be in for a little unexpected surprises along the way, at least. The thing is, even it it's less "consistent" and rich as a whole, *School's Out* remains an easier, more accessible listen today than *Billion Dollar Babies*. Somehow, early-70s Alice Cooper always seemed to miss the mark--either giving too little on your plate (memorable melodies and performances--the vocals sound pretty thin sometimes, surprisingly) and then giving way too much in terms of, er... "meaty" contents (mock-outrageous posturing and WTF instrumentation). And I can't say for later periods since I haven't listened to them, but I have a "natural" feeling it doesn't get any better from there. If only because there's no other Alice Cooper records on Dimery's list after that anyway. But maybe that's unfair to want more from this act than what they could actually give. You don't ask the clown in your local circus to address transcendent thruths or perform heartbreaking or groundbreaking works of art. You ask that clown to give you a good laugh, along with a few cheap thrills through his slapstick comedy antics. And then you move on with your life. If some members of the audience want to see "high art" in all this, good for them. Maybe "low brow" and "high brow" don't mean anything in popular culture indeed. I have an inkling *some* forms of "low brow art" age better than others. But who am I to say, really? Number of albums left to review: 744 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 126 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 64 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 67

They were surely ahead of their times, foretelling how alt-rock would take over the mainstream in the next decade. But being ahead of your time doesn't necessarily mean your music will age well, ironically. The fault here mostly lies in the songwriting. I've just liked a 5/5 well-written review about this record because of the admirable passion a Jane's Addiction fan expressed in it. But as much as I can *get* what that fan is saying, I'm certainly not feeling the same thing as I listen to this record myself. Interestingly, that fan explains in precise musical terms why they love the track "Jane Says", even giving the precise harmonies and chords used (near-dissonant ones). Yet it's mind-boggling to me that this fan is unable to *hear* what's obvious about this song: there is absolutely no "resolution" in the chord sequence. The same chords go on and on with no sense of direction, and the rhythms behind them don't make them hypnotic either. It's just pretty mundane, even if all of this was done *on purpose*. Given what the lyrics are all about--junkie's promises--it makes sense that there's no "musical" resolution in that song, somehow. But the biggest problem for me is that this track, just like any other one on the album, is too much constricted by Farrell's lack of imagination in his vocal lines, too mundane as well to truly be memorable. It's one thing to sound *discordant*. It's another to make it really *matter* somehow. Add to this the most clichéed hard rock guitar solos found this side of 1990, and you have... a dated thing. Just listen to the lame hackneyed funk-rock laden with those cheesy solo antics at the beginning of "Idiots Rule"--quite idiotic indeed--and maybe you'll get the idea... That being said, I can still sense why some of those tracks would be iconic for some listeners ("Jane Says" and its lyrics about, well, addiction, "Ocean Size" and its maritime scope, "Ted, Just Admit It..." and its sheer violence, "Summertime Rolls" and its sweeping moods... The list goes on). But because of the flaws I still can't help seeing in Jane's Addiction, and as original, groundbreaking and interesting as their proposal was at the time, this very subjective jury is still out on this one... Number of albums left to review: 743 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 126 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 67

Aw c'mon. *21* was not for me yet I could still respect folks who loved it. But it's way harder for me to do with this other record. What's the next step? Céline f*cking Dion? Removed from the list in 2018, apparently. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 742 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 126 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 68 (including this one)

Of course, the title track is one for the ages, as overplayed as it is. It's just epic how the two guitars soloing at the end of this stellar song finally join for a common climax. But when it comes to the album itself, it's the very definition of a *flawed* concept album. A significant chunk of those tracks sound a little ridiculous today, and the obvious ambition of this thing doesn't mesh well with its clear failures in execution, both musically and lyrically. Yet oddly enough, this is also a concept album about *failure* itself (mostly the failure of the American Dream). And in that sense, the overall cheesiness does bring an extra layer that makes the album a very interesting one to listen to, at least on an "intellectual" level. Whether all of that was intended or not is another story, but maybe it doesn't matter so much. It's only a little disappointing that the music is almost never as dark and intense as in closer "The Last Resort". The concept behind this record justified going to darker territories. One can't help regretting this missed opportunity here. But maybe for once, the legendary opener and its negative counterpart at the very end are enough to justify including this album on a list of 1001 essential albums to listen to. What's in between might be cheesy, but it's part of the unapolegetically despondent equation that *Hotel California* really is. Anyway, it would be a shame dying without at least having given a fair try to the fucking Eagles, man. If only because it's the only way to then state how much you hate them, just like the Dude did. Number of albums left to review: 741 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 127 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 68

Objectively, there's not enough music from outside the Europe / United States area in my own list. This wonderful postcard from Cuba can't make up for my overall lack of knowledge in said *other* places, obviously. But beyond its historical importance and ubiquitous success when it came out, it's a pretty neat listen, filled with smooth and evocative moods. Without knowing the first thing about the history of *son cubano*, it's still accessible and enticing. Consequently, I'll keep it as an essential album. Number of albums left to review: 740 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 128 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 68

Even more than *My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy*, this record is the ultimate postmodern masterpiece Kanye West left us. *Yeezus* is eerie, weird, gritty, inventive, layered, dadaist, hilarious (sometimes unwittingly, but does it matter?), angst-ridden, dark, manic, megalomaniac, self-deprecatory, ironic, earnest, dumb, bright, noisy, melodic, mellifluous, groundbreaking, flavored, tasteful, distasteful, mysterious, nocturnal and unpredictable. This album is *absurd*, in all the senses of the word--absurdly good and absurdly nonsensical all at the same time. The scope of different emotions it can make you go through (some of them unsettling) is potentially infinite. It's a definitive artistic statement, blurring the lines between genius and madness. Obviously, it's quite difficult to enjoy listening to this album today. Given what Kanye has become in the ten years that separate us from the release of *Yeezus*, it's near-impossible not to think about the freak the man is in 2022, even as you listen to that gem he recorded in 2013. If only because some of the seeds of his current downfall were actually sown during that period... At the time, artistry still had the upper hand, not delirious episodes fuelled by paranoid takes about world politics (at least that we know of). But the equation is reversed today, sadly. Kanye should take his prescription pills, and steer away from despicable far-right rhetorics and conspiracy theories. The "genius" is very much the ultimate fool here, a pawn in a larger shameful game in which crooked politicians and shameless business interests have used him to unsavory ends. A tale of hubris if there is one. That being said, and in a somewhat strange way, close to schadenfreude, I actually hope West keeps on self-sabotaging his career, one that's quite meaningless *now* anyway, and that he goes bankrupt as a result. He needs to pay for the negative and even potentially dangerous impact his actions and sickening public statements have made in America. Ironically, him being the sacrificial scapegoat of a rotten society that direly needs to cleanse its political sins would unwittingly be akin to an artsy gesture--some sort of real-time "happening" that would at least tell everyone a lot about the dangers of putting money, fame and ego first, instead of ethics, decency or empathy. I think this here is the heart of the "Tragedy Of Kanye". I just pray he doesn't seriously hurt anyone in the course of his demise, just as he keeps on hurting himself. I can't listen to *Yeezus* this year, not with what the man has become. But once we're rid of his disgusting public persona, maybe we'll be able to later return to the many stellar hip hop albums he gave us in the past, and enjoy them for what they are. At least if nobody else suffers as he goes down in flames... I think I'm worried, though. Does anyone else feel that way in here? Number of albums left to review: 739 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 129 (including this one--unless something *really* bad happens) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 68

Nice ride down memory lane. I remember when this album came out. It was like a punk version of the Blues Brothers. I absolutely loved the first three tracks, "Middle", "Born in '69", and "On a Rope" (and I still love them today). Unfortunately, after such a great start, everything after sounded quite underwhelming, to be honest. And it's still the case now for me, even though my music tastes have quite broadened since i was a teenager... That being said, I find the average grading of the participants in here extremely harsh. This is no essential listen, obviously, but it's still decent punk rock. So for once, I'm gonna give a 4/5 grade to an album I actually won't include in my own list. Trying to tip the karmic balance a little here, even if this won't change anything to the average grading... Number of albums left to review: 738 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 129 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 69 (including this one)

Part of Stevie Wonder's classic years. Obviously, legendary "Superstition" is the centerpiece here, but the rest of the album is excellent as well, with other stellar groovy cuts such as "Maybe Your Baby". And please, oh please, don't get fooled by the apparent sugar first displayed in the many ballads of this record. Cheesiness is a problem Wonder often had in his less successful records, but not in here. A second or third listen of those ballads will probably reveal how richly textured and smartly written the music is in most of them (see "Blame It On The Sun" or "I Believe". Besides, Wonder even explored a darker vein for those slower cuts from time to time, as "Big Brother" proves it. The chords on that one are sleazy and ominous, and the lyrica topical as hell. "I live in the ghetto / You just come visit 'round election time". This might be a somewhat naive way to address those topical issues, admittedly. Yet, just like any sort of emotion Stevie Wonder deals with, that doesn't make the feeling and intention any less relevant... Number of albums left to review: 737 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 130 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 69

So imperial, and at such a young age. One of the most impressive and energetic debuts you can hear out there, especially if you're interested in brit-pop--savvy yet fresh and unpretentious, sophisticated yet rolling on all cylinders. Classy. Number of albums left to review: 736 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 131 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 69

I'm in two minds about this one. This here is an important record from one of the favorite bands of Grandaddy's Jason Lytle, and given that I'm quite a big fan of him, this plays a part in my assessment. The influence ELO had on Lytle is pretty obvious--to a certain extent, Grandaddy could be considered as a lo-fi (and as far as I'm concerned, more charming and moving) version of that older band from the seventies. So, even with the tons of cheese involved, Jeff Lynne gets my sympathy here, just for having inspired one of my musical heroes... That being said, said tons of cheese are a little hard to swallow sometimes, especially on a double-album like this. Lynne has never hidden that Paul McCartney is his *own* huge influence, but it speaks volumes that Macca himself sounds like a hard-rocker compared to his "disciple" and his long succession of ditties and other novelty-like grand pieces. Sophisticated chord changes and rococo arrangements involving strings and synths can be fine in the right hands. But you also need *some* form of rock energy to make them palatable, and honestly, that sort of energy is pretty lackluster in most of those tracks. So I guess I can easily put myself in the shoes of 1977 punks, who hated Electric Light Orchestra for quite obvious reasons, and just like them, roll my eyes at all this... Interestingly, it seems that even *some* ELO fans are having second thoughts about this particular album and its commercial success. A lot of them actually prefer the normal-length *A New World Record*, out the year before, for instance. And checking out that other (*tighter* and most of all, far *better*) LP, I can concur. Too many of the tracks on *Out Of The Blue* sound secondary, flat or average compared to their counterparts on that previous record. Admittedly, *Out Of The Blue* has *one* undeniable redeeming feature: it's the presence of the all-time great "Mr. Blue Sky" in it (plus the extravagant and off-kilter "weather suite" that song is a part of, taking up the whole third side here). But to be honest, it's as if I wished that track and the suite were part of *A New World Record* to make the latter the fully essential release it deserves to be... PS: By the way, I've checked, and Grandaddy is conspicuously absent from Dimery's list. Now that's one of the most criminal mistakes this 1001 albums book has ever made (especially when you realize Lambchop's extremely bland *Nixon* has been included instead--to stay within the confines of that sort of sound and in the early-naughts era). Somebody needs to fix this a.s.a.p. Number of albums left to review: 735 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 131 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 70 (including this one)

Essential if only as a cultural milestone. Whether originals or covers made famous by them, the Pogues performed too many highlights on this one to be excluded from a list like this... "Dirty Old Town", "...Waltzing Mathilda", "The Old Main Drag", "Sally MacLennane" (and "Body Of An American" on the CD bonus tracks)... Number of albums left to review: 734 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 132 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 70

OK, landmark folk song "Talkin' 'Bout The Revolution", "Fast Cars" and "Mountain O' Things" have aged quite well. Unfortunately, that's not the case with everything else. I agree with the reviewers using the word "beige" and "secretary rock" to explain what this record sounds like to listeners in search of an atmosphere that could be a wee bit more *thrilling* at least. Gosh, the mainstream eighties were so bland sometimes. Don't get me wrong, Tracy Chapman's heart was in the right place when it came to her topical lyrics. The thing is, the execution of these ideas is quite boring at times. And the same can be said about her music. Add the dull production values, and you have a half-baked album. In other words, Tracy deserves to be remembered for those songs I've quoted up there. But you need more than a couple of good tunes to make a fine LP. Number of albums left to review: 733 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 132 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 71 (including thisbone)

Assets: variety of styles, a certain quaint charm decades after the fact, and a second side with far better songs than on the first. (including subtle "I Don't Love You Anymore", stellar and energetic "You Better Run" and groovy "It's Love"--far more groovy than "Grooving", actually...) Flaws: a large chunk of cheese ("quaint charm" is a little too nice sometimes), a lot of inconsequential choruses, quite a few subpar vocal and instrumental performances compared to the household names of 1967, mostly on the first side, and the idea that in a year like that, filled with twenty or thirty daring masterpieces, those Young Rascals were rascals by name only. The end result: a record that's three notches under the best Beatles and Stones albums, and at least two notches under the best of what The Animals, Byrds, The Yardbirds, The Kinks, The Zombies or the Motown/Stax performers had to offer during the sixties. In other words, *not* an essential one. Number of albums left to review: 732 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 132 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 72 (including this one)

Assets: "The Perfect Kiss" is a very nice eighties dance track, even though its 12'' extended mix is a far superior version of it--mostly because of the added guitars in its finale, drawing the whole thing to post-punk at the last minute or so. In this "album version", we fortunately still have that crazy bridge with.. frogs. Yes, *frogs*. But frogs can't beat a proper post-rock finale. At least in my book. Speaking of post-punk, that other cut "Sunrise" has everything in it that can make you fall in love with New Order (Peter Hook's incredible basslines being 50% of it, as usual). It's, simply put, one of the best "rock" tracks, Sumner and company have ever written and performed. As for "Elegia", it is very touching and evocative. This delicate and melancholic instrumental almost sounds like a post-rock composition, even though proper post-rock would only be invented 5 years later... Flaws: As good as they are, "Sunrise" and "Elegia" actually stick out like sore thumbs compared to everything else. Which brings me to the problem of this record, which is actually not merely about cohesiveness. No, the problem is that, sonically speaking, everything else is just so damn CHEESY (apart from "The Perfect Kiss", maybe...). *Low-Life* is indeed filled with the worst clichés ever associated to the eighties--you know the ones, those that didn't age well at all: gated drums, overmixed tom parts, hackneyed and/or dated club beats, fake horns on synths, lame fake-funky parts on guitars, and overly predictable and naive chord progressions played on grating keyboards... Shall I continue the list? Such a record suggests that New Order went from sounding like goth freaks to playing stuff that would fit in supermarkets and malls a little too fast. Besaides, you must add two other issues to this lamentable equation: first, their "linear" sort of songwriting--chorus and verses mostly sung over the same chords, which can be perfectly fine elsewhere--critically needs better arrangements than this hackneyed... stuff, as intricate and professionally recorded as the latter is. And secondly--and more importantly--Sumner is not a good enough vocalist (and lyricist) to make up for the overall bad taste that oozes from this overrated album. His voice is especially tentative and weak on this particular LP. If the music is decent, he doesn't need to be particularly impressive, as *Power, Corruption & Lies* or the "Blue Monday" single can prove it. Whereas in here, he just can't *sell* the whole thing to folks that are not already dead into that sort of dated sound. New Order would later find a *better* balance between post-punk tracks and dance cuts on the sadly underrated *Brotherhood*. Then, very unfortunately, they would find an even *worse* balance on the OVERrated *Technique* (BOTH sorts of tracks actually sound weak or even awful today in this one). But that's a story for another time, kiddies, probably when I give a 5/5 grade to *Power, Corruption & Lies*. In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: 731 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 132 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 73 (including this one)

It's not that the Faith No More members have no talent or even don't have any great musical ideas once in a while... Every time I happen to listen to a Mike Patton side-project, I'm usually amazed by the artistry that's involved in it (special mention for Fantomas and Tomahawk). No, the problem is that, as energetic, original and forward-sounding as Faith No More was when they broke out, they are now actually, literally *painful* to listen to. Where should we start, the hard-rock-by-number parts, the awfully dated rapping, or the extravagant and theatrical vocals on choruses? It's odd to think that with a relatively similar formula, Red Hot Chili Peppers actually aged far better, at least from *Blood Sugar Sex Magic* onwards... Maybe this difference could be explained by the dynamics of Kiedis and co.'s instrumentation, a more subdued restraint sometimes, and the choice of melodies. Anyway, *The Real Thing* is probably NOT an essential album in 2022, contrary to what a certain aging fanbase considers today... Number of albums left to review: 730 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 132 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 74 (including this one)

Hardcore punk classic. Prettty essential, if only for "historical" reasons. There are not many albums in that overall genre in Dimery's list anyway (Minor Threat's *Out Of Step* is included, and I think Bad Brains are, too). So it would be a crime to take *Damaged* out of it. Number of albums left to review: 729 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 133 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 74

I have always enjoyed their famous singles, but it took me a loooooooong time to appreciate the classic Stones albums for what they are (from *Beggars Banquet* to *Exile On Main Street*) Things finally clicked when I stopped looking for obvious hit melodies and paid a little attention to all the wonderful sleazy details. Things like Richard's almost off-hand sense of rhythm putting its own perverse twist of the already perverse blues cuts infesting this this record. Jagger's many lurid inflexions and endearing little flaws adding their own sense of perversion. The meticulously crafted build-ups the more fleshed out tracks often go to. There are great moody, moody stuff like this everywhere in *Let It Bleed*. A few years before, I could only hear a bunch of British guys trying to mimick their own American blues and country idols. What I didn't get is that this partial travesty is what actually makes this record (and the one before, *Beggar's Banquet*) so enticing. And it's all conveyed through those sort of artful and yet very *human* key details. So yeah, of course, there are fantastic opener and closer "Gimme Shelter" and "You Can't Always Get What You Want" (the irony of that fake angelic choir on that one gets me every time). If only for those two songs, you could give this record a 4/5 or 5/5 grade. But then you also have slow scorchers "Midnight Rambler", "Let It Bleed" and "Monkey Man". And boy do they scorch, if someone gets my obfuscated meaning here--the latter, especially, with its terrific combination of Bill Wyman's groovy bassline and vibraphones flourishes--phasing in and out of major and minor chords as if an ominous veil were covering the full moon... If I had to be picky, I could say that I would have preffered the original single version of "Honky Tonk Women" to have appeared in the tracklisting, instead of the country parody of it here taking its place on the first side. But that barebones version is still a lot of fun, I have to admit... And maybe including its later "rock" version so soon would have messed up the sense of gradual build-up this LP is actually built on... To put it in a nutshell, this is a legendary album made by a legendary band--both fun and aptly thought-out. What more can you ask for, really? Number of albums left to review: 728 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 134 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 74

Welcome to Iggy and David's perverse nightclub cabaret, filled with freaks, ghouls, industrial automatons and other sorts of monsters of all stripes. It's a fun place, where you can have... a "Funtime". At least if your idea of fun is to get spooked by a twisted Iguana whispering bizarre stuff in your ears. Instruments here do not so much "play" as they grind, croak and wince (Bowie indeed had a great turf to play in here so as to prepare for his infamous "Berlin Trilogy"--a.k.a. *Low*, *"Heroes"* and *Lodger*). A clear outlier, "China Girl" rises high above the other tracks in terms of melody and sheer emotions (what a finale on this one--as good as Bowie's later version is overall, the latter's ending is not as intense as in this original version). As for the rest, heartfelt emotions are not in Pop's agenda anyway, so we can't blame him for painting his imaginary venue in all shades of black instead. In terms of relative flaws, maybe the middle of side 2 is *a little* underwhelming ("Dum Dum Boys" is probably too long, and "Tiny Girls" and its saxophone are quite inconsequential, as moody as they are). But everything else radiates with a dark, ultra-violet light. Especially "Nightclubbing" and the insanely tense and brooding closer "Mass Production", aptly named when you get lost in its proto-industrial waves of noise. To put it in a nutshell, it's easy to understand how this record influenced the likes of Joy Division, Killing Joke or Nine Inch Nails. 4.5/5 for this one, rounded up to a perfect grade. Number of albums left to review: 727 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 135 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 74

*Yawn*... Assets: Classy and multilayered instrumentation going from the usual guitar solos to mandolin, steel guitar and fiddle. Plus, Rod Stewart is a more than decent vocal performer, I guess... Flaws: Most of those songs, whether covers or originals, are middle-of-the-road rock numbers, including *Maggie May* (I don't get what some listeners heard when they made this song a hit--it's pretty middling in my book). And those compositions are *all* too fucking long anyway, except "Tomorrow Is A Long Time" which sounded far less grating than the rest. At first, I wondered why this one stood out... Surprise, it's a cover of an old and quite obscure Bob Dylan cut. Thanks, Rod, for letting me know this song exists, at least (everyone else, please listen to the original or Nick Drake's version). To return to the bulk of *Every Picture Tells A Story*, and to put it in a nutshell, the overall energy that's displayed in this clearly overrated record seems to be squandered. Besides, everytime the music could go to an interesting chord or harmony, it chooses a bland, boring, or predictable one instead. Energy and jam shenanigans can't just sell *everything*. Conclusion: to be honest, as downright cheesy as it is, I think "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" is a lot more *fun* than anything in this earlier, supposedly better album. Rod Stewart seems to be a nice bloke, though. Him boycotting the Qatar World Cup's opening ceremony probably helps him avoiding a 1/5 grade from me. Not that he cares about what I think, obviously. Good for him if others want to include *Every Picture Tells A Story* in their list of essential records. Personally, I'm out. Number of albums left to review: 726 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 135 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 75 (including this one)

Modern R'n'B is not really my turf, apart from obvious hit singles aimed at making you shake your ass on a dancefloor. So I feel like judging albums in that style released after the nineties onwards is a little difficult for me. That being said, I can respect the artistry involved in such a record. There's tons of it, to be honest, especially with all the different styles outside said R'n'B that are infused in those songs, from roaring 20s charleston in "Faster" to punk rock in "Come Alive", not to mention the well-crafted orchestral arrangements in between. The thing is, there are TWO huge problems plaguing this sort of album: the first is that as nice and stylish as its different components are, I can't help but feeling that the flourishes on those songs are way to "functional" to make this a record one for the ages, even with my lack of knowledge or appetite for that sort of music. Case in point, the scratches at the start of "Faster", or the guitar solos and the dated rapping parts there and everywhere else. Those ingredients seem to serve a decorating "purpose" rather than being tought-out as part of the compositions from the get-go. As a consequence, everything sounds way too "calculated", there's no sincerity in that type of production, even if you take into account its mainstream pop context. And therefore, everything has aged terribly fast in this record, and this in only 12 years, to boot. Listen to what is done in this overall genre *today*, and the difference will strike you hard. The second problem is easier to explain: the songs are not catchy enough. Their choruses, particularly. The tunes in Monáe's later LP "Dirty Computer" will show vast improvement in that realm (maybe because the production team is different?). There are songs that remind you of the catchiest Prince, Madonna or Beyoncé/Destiny's Child songs there. So maybe that's the album that should have been included in this list, instead of *The ArchAndroid*, as "original" as the latter is. Number of albums left to review: 725 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 135 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 65 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 76 (including this one)

Mick Jagger was awfully nice and gracious when he praised *Teenage Head* as an album that was actually better than the Rolling Stones' own *Sticky Finger*, out in the same year. But as good as that Flamin' Groovies album is, it's still a notch under the Stones' magnum opus. Side 1 is almost perfect, but three tracks in the middle of side 2 make the album lose its momentum somehow. Those cuts are not horrible, but they are a little too derivative just as they go to older types of rockabilly and bluesy numbers. Fortunately, the record ends on a very high note with Whiskey Women. As already noted elsewhere, this album is also very interesting for Cramps fans: the title track and "High Flyin' Baby" have clearly inspired Lux Interior and Poison Ivy for their own twisted take on good ole rock'n'roll. Does all this make *Teenage Head* an *essential* album, though? The jury's still out on this one. Number of albums left to review: 724 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 135 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 66 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 76

"The Weight" is a classic. But the album it's from is not The Band's best LP. That subsequent eponymous one is. Number of albums left to review: 723 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 135 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 67 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 76

One of the three stone-cold classics that Stevie Wonder wrote and performed during the sixties (the two other being *Songs In The Key Of Life* and *Talking Book*, naturally...). A large chunk of the modern strands of music still heard today actually stem from Stevie and those albums. "Too High"'s bassline and vocal bridge, " Visions"'s folk-like and dreamy guitar parts, "Living For The City"''s relentless groove, catchy synth bridge and socially aware lyrics, "Higher Ground"'s mysticism over funky "Superstition"-like accents, "All In Love Is Fair"'s tender build-ups... These are only the main highlights in this record where everything actually shines with a radiance rarely seen in the history of modern music *Innervisions* is a gem. So geniously inventive that it leaves you in a state of... wonder. Er... OK. I'll see myself out. ----> Number of albums left to review or just listen to: more than 700 I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Personal opinion: *The Slider* is T. Rex's best LP. *Another* personal opinion: *Electric Warrior* also deserves to be included in a list of essential listens, and not only because it's this band's most famous album. The varied moods and textures explored on this one mark a milestone in Bolan's trajectory. Plus, it's got "Get It On", the proverbial cream of the cake that makes this record *another* masterpiece. Number of albums left to review: 722 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 136 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 67 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 76

It's interesting that *Pet Sounds* is not part of the twenty most praised albums on this app. Heck, its overall score reveals that it's actually pretty far behind those twenty LPs. This suggests what I have always suspected: maybe this record has always been slightly overrated, as influential as it was. Were it not for the British critics that singled out that Beach Boys release when it came out on their side of the pond, would we talk so much about it? And in such laudatory terms? That being said, *Pet Sounds* is still a masterpiece that deserves its 5/5 grade, just like Brian Wilson intended when he and the rest of the Beach Boys recorded it. When you write and arrange heavenly music such as the one found on "God Only Knows", "Wouldn't It be Nice", "Don't Talk" or "I Just Wasn't Made For These Times", you're a genius, period. Your peers are acts like The Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Jimi Hendrix, Nirvana... In other words, you're in very good company, whether or not you made one of the twenty best albums of all time. Podiums are not everything anyway, especially when you're creating original, moving and groundbreaking art such as this. Maybe Wilson indeed wasn't made for those times he lived in. But he sure changed the latter so that it would fit with *his* vision. That takes a lot of skills, a lot of talent. Hence the rightful inclusion of *Pet Sounds* in a list such as this. Number of albums left to review: 720 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 138 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 67 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 76

A dream pop classic, or so I hear. It lays on the 80s sound a little thick, with its gated drums and other sorts of production shenanigans from the earlier decade. Wish there were a few more stand-out tracks, too. To me, Cocteau Twins have always been lackluster songwriters, and I'm not talking about the so-called '"unintelligible" lyrics--I don't care about that, to be honest--I'm talking about truly memorable or *dynamic* melodies in individual songs. That being said, as dated as the sound is, and as limited as Cocteau Twins were in their songwriting, this band were ahead of their time when it comes to sonic intentions in the realm of dream pop--they used textures like others used recognizable melodies, or *suggestions* of lyrics where others would obsesss about the meaning and purpose of every word. That's what the "dream" in dream pop is all about, innit? To evoke, entice and suggest. And with Liz Fraser's incredible voice, they had such a wild card in their sleeve to accomplish all this. Besides, the opener and closer are both extremely *strong*, which adds a star to my grade. With an opener such as "Cherry-Coloured Funk", you have no choice but to pay attention to what follows. It's just *a little* disappointing that apart from "Frou-Frou In Midsummer", everything else is very nice, but never *stellar*. Number of albums left to review: 720 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 139 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 68 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 76

Interesting how the responses in most 2/5 and 1/5 reviews actually tell you this is an important album. Some people can't handle the "uncanny"--and *Music Has The Right To Children* is all about the latter: you don't know if you're in the future or the past; you don't know if you're an adult or a child; you don't know if you're in a dream or awake in the real world, and you don't know what it is exactly you're supposed to be feeling. You're floating in purgatory. You're "in limbo", to use the name of a Radiohead track from another album that probably owes a lot to Boards Of Canada... One *great* 4/5 review tells it better than I would ever write it myself. This is the sound of robots slowly learning how to "emote". In this day and age where AIs now create art and are having meaningful (yet slightly unnerving) conversations with you, *Music Has The Right To Children* is like a prophetic statement. That album cover could as well have been created by one of those AIs. There's the same twisted, slightly off-kilter logic in that artwork as the ones found in those utterly "artificial" creations seen online today. The fact that humans from the nineties actually created said artwork blurs the line between humanity and technology, about the animate and the "inanimate". Just look at this cover: it can trigger the same feeling of alienation and "displacement" in your human brains as those weird AI creations today. And the music does the same. So the album is not only about fictional robots, as great as that line from that 4/5 review was. It's about us humans and our relationship to time, technology, and "art in the age of mechanical reproduction" (say hello to Uncle W. Benjamin here). It's very "mundane", but that's the point, because nothing is sacred anymore in the digital age. Time is diluted, expanded. Lengthy dirges abound, and they can send you in one of those intermediate "states". Retro-futuristic sonic landscapes give you a sense of nostalgia for a future that hasn't happened *yet*. Objectively, a lot of those trip hop and chill-out club beats are clearly dated, but more than twenty years later, that "dated" thing ironically adds to the overall experience. This album aged extremely well partly because some of its components *have* aged. You can't write a sentence like that about a lot of albums. Which proves it is one-of-a-kind. To conclude, *Music Has The Right To Children* works like a Rorschach blot. It is a canvas with apparently "unclear" intents emotionally speaking, and where you can therefore project your own feelings, whether they're anxieties, dreams, pessimism, optimism, or even boredom with yourself. And this is exactly where those 1/5 and 2/5 reviews were so interesting to read. In a few lines, you can sense the sort of person who wrote how displeased they were about the experience, understandably so in some cases--you need to be in the right mindset to enjoy weird stuff like this anyway. And if you read between those lines, if you pick up certain words and turns of phrases, it becomes abundantly clear that the experience actually affected some of those reviewers in a somewhat positive way. They may not like *Music Has The Right To Children*, at least right now, but they took the time to try something different, admitted how nonplussed they're feeling about it, and then gave their own feelings the benefit of the doubt (and sometimes, they did the same thing with the music, in a somewhat fascinating mirror effect). In a world where algorithms "break down" and decide what you're *supposed* to enjoy or not as if we ourselves were a string of ones and zeros, such "undecided", ambivalent experience is a precious glitch in the machine. And the fact that such welcome subversion comes in the form of electronic music from another era is itself a very ambivalent, "undecided" plus. That's how "meta" that album can get. And if you're in the right state of mind, this will repeatedly slap you hard in the face. Until the point where you don't have one anymore, maybe. Number of albums left to review: 721 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 140 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 68 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 76

Does the world need a *second* Coldplay, even if this one is a little more imaginative in its atmospheric arrangements? Isn't *one* Coldplay more than enough already? Just like Chris Martin, and minus two or three good moments, the singer from this band is often stuck in a maudlin mode through the course of this record. Some of the vocal lines are a little dull, almost none of them are catchy, and the performance is a little lackluster as well. And why, oh why, are the songs so f*cking long? You could cut most of them in half, and it would basically be the same thing. How about a little self-editing, Doves? Some of the build-ups justify the length used for certain tunes, true (case in point: "There Goes the Fear" and its nicely surprising samba outro, expertly carried out without you even noticing where the thing was actually going for all along--clap clap clap, a very skilled move here). But not *all* the tracks deserve to last for six minutes or so, c'mon! Admittedly, this album is still a little better than the pack of post-brit-pop LPs this list subjects us to on a regular basis (by the borderline-boring Elbow, for instance, or by the criminally overrated Wild Beasts). Yet by 2002, Radiohead had already shown a way out of that innocuous-indie-by-the-numbers-sort of record, and this through bolder electronic experimentation and the use of more extreme, abrasive dynamics--both during the songwriting process and the recording of the songs. Unfortunately, not many acts had the skills or the ressources to follow the Oxford quintet. What we got instead from Britain during the naughts was a bunch of Coldplays, for better or, quite often, for worse (heavy sigh). And maybe it would be better to forget most of them twenty years later, and leave room for truly *exciting* or *groundbreaking* music, at least. Number of albums left to review: 720 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 140 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 68 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 77 (including this one) PS: Listening to Doves' first album right now, *Lost Souls*. The arrangements are even more impressive and pleasurable on this one, but the "songs" still sound like overlong jams or dirges as well, just as in "The Last Broadcast". Doves' musicians are good I'm not arguing about that. But as "songwriters", they're not exactly among the top-tier of those tunesmiths everyone remembers about today. And in a genre like the one practised by this band, it is a flaw that is quite unforgiving, especially for a list of 1001 "essential" albums. Sorry, Dove fans. *One* exception, though: "Catch the Sun". Is it because there was the word "catch" in the title that Doves suddenly remembered they could also try to be... catchy?

Just like that Chic album, I don't feel like I'm the right person to judge an old disco LP (like many others in this group). The first three singles taken out of that album are great (including the hit "We Are Family", obviously). The fourth single is a little lackluster in comparison. And everything else sounds like "anecdotes in music history" to me. I can't help feeling that the album format is not kind to such sorts of old genres originally designed for the dancefloor. Maybe someone should write a book named "1001 *12-Inch Records* You Should Listen To Before You Die". I'm pretty sure Niles Rodgers would be quoted quite a few times in that *other* book... Number of albums left to review: 719 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 140 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 69 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 77

#1 rating on this app. A whooping 4.45/5 grade. You don't need my review here. You just need to listen to this historical gem-of-a-record if you haven't already. "Come Together", "Something", "Here Comes The Sun", "I Want You (She's So Heavy)", the 'medley' at the end... So many great tracks. Plus, the Beatles basically invented the "modern" album, with this one and the white one, plus *Rubber Soul*, *Sgt. Pepper* and *Revolver*. How can one *not* include those on a list like this? Number of albums left to review: 718 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 141 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 69 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 77

Going from the Beatles' *Abbey Road* to Def Leppard's *Hysteria* tells you everything you need to know about this app. The background vocals and chord changes between the verses and choruses are quite smart in a number of cuts ("Rocket" or "Love Bites" come to mind here), making this band an iconic one in this eighties hard-rock/pop metal subgenre. Too bad such subgenre is too damn cheesy and has aged horribly... if it wasn't *already* horrible when this album came out, that is. Number of albums left to review: 717 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 141 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 69 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 78 (including this one)

Highly inluential album with a string of stone-cold classics in it. Maybe it is slightly overrated, but you can't deny there's something iconic in such a sound, which looked into the past to better embrace the future... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: more than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Iconic album and the best one ever released by Blondie. It takes a lot of talent to use styles as different as classic rock, punk and disco, and still create such a cohesive LP. And Debbie harry has sung a string of choruses for the ages here (Call Me, One Way Or Another, that Hanging By The Telephone cover...). Maybe not a 5/5, but a solid 4.5/5, at least. Number of albums left to review: more than 700. Temporarily lost count here. Keepers: half so far (including this one) Maybe I'll keep them: a quarter Stinkers: one last quarter

Lol. This is a joke the app pulled on us all, right? So, lemme just get it straight... The album starts with two tracks ripping off choruses by Nine Inch Nails and The Who over horribly *dated* nu-metal sounds, and you're supposed to think this is a "creative" proposal here? Fred Durst's so-called "rapping" is grating to the extreme, aptly and faithfully evoking the sound of fingernails on a chalk board, the guitar hooks are competently played but miserable or bland, and when the band is seemingly out of stupid ideas, they rake the undersized glands that serve as brains for them to pull off an even stupidest idea: "Hey guys, let's use the Mission Impossible theme for our next hit single!" "Duuuuude, that's a *great* idea! But I'ma take one last hit from that bong first, OK?" Oh. I almost forgot. This album cover is *also* the ugliest cover *of all time*. Not "artistic-ugly" or "ironic-ugly". Just plain, I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing-here-with-my-computer-yet-I'm-doing-it-nonetheless ugly. Jesus H. Christ. I've counted: there are only *three* reviews that are giving a "5" to this turd. Three. But a 2.55/5 overall rating is still *way* too generous. And there are not so many reviews written yet. I hope that grade will go even lower with time. I've spotted a few records on the list that actually have an even lower score, and conversely deserve far better appreciation from music fans (records such as Robert Wyatt's *Rock Bottom* or even the last one ever in the global stats, Einsturzende Neubaten's *Kollaps*). No wonder someone in Dimery's team later put their foot down and decided to place "Chocolate Fish And Whatever Your Fried Brain Is Having A Thought About" right where it deserved to go: down to the toilets flush. Number of albums left to review: 714 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 143 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 69 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 79 (including this one)

A very rare offering, because it combines two things that are not often gathered in the same album: a sprawling, adventurous tracklisting, here combined with individual songs that are concise, "economical", unpretentious and yet affecting to a level you wouldn't suspect of on the very first listens. You just need to pay attention to the details. If you do so, you'll eventually realize that Minutemen were not your usual run-of-the-mill punk rockers, but skilled musicians and songwriters who had a surprising ability for nuance and subtlety when they wanted to (and refrained from digressing a little too much). Plus, most of the absurd lyrics, as cryptic as they are, are either funny or intriguing. "Corona", "Vietnam", "History Lesson part 2", "Cohesion", "Two Beads At The End" or "Jesus And Tequila" are the highlights here, but this double-album is best experienced as a whole, as long and meandering as it is. Minutemen were the missing link between Captain Beefheart and Black Flag, or the one between Frank Zappa and Fugazi. As such, they deserve to be remembered today. It's a tragedy that D. Boon died so young in that van accident, or that Mike Watt never became more famous afterwards. If Minutemen had kept going, who knows what sort of original, idiosyncratic, fully personal music they would have played next? Their end was a sad loss for punk rock, and maybe even for other genres. Fortunately, we still have this record today. Number of albums left to review: 713 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 144 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 69 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 79

The one with "Welcome To The Jungle" and "Sweet Child O' Mine", and the album that "put the metal back into hair metal", as one other reviewer said... I'm a little confused, though... Is Guns N' Roses still "hair metal", then? Or just "metal metal"? Nah, they can't be "metal", they're just cheesy eighties hard rock. And that's still the definition of... "hair metal" to me. But maybe I'm splitting hairs here... Yeah, I know... Rimshot! 😁 What's *really* funny though, is the way that a lot of those 5/5 and 4/5 reviews point out that *Appetite For Destruction* actually has many fillers, especially on side two. My radar senses bad faith fueled by nostalgia, here expressed by that sort of 40-ish, 50-ish white male who would just shrug every time you would report stories to them about Axl Rose indulging in borderline-racist tirades or expressing his spite towards women. There's a good reason Kurt Cobain hated this band. Don't forget that, kiddies... I'm gonna drop the mic now, enough said. Well, I won't exactly do that the way Axl Rose drops the mic after a show, mind you. I don't want any of you to end up with a shiner on their face right after reading my review''. I imagine that when *Use Your Illusion I and II* pops up on the app, I'm gonna select those two as LPs that are at least "historically" important in terms of cultural impact. But honestly, it may seem preposterous to waste any more room on Guns N' Roses beyond that. I'm pretty sure there's a good "metal metal" band somewhere that Dimery and co forgot in their list. So maybe it would be a good idea to use that slot here given to *Appetite For Destruction* for them, don't you think? Number of albums left to review: 712 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 144 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important):79

So many great songs... Such a striking album, so catchy, timeless, heartfelt and moving... Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie and Lindsey Buckingham were at the apex of their abilities as a songwriting team in 1977. *Tusk*, released a few years later, was great, too, by the way. But that story is for another time, kiddies... Now who can be surprised that *Rumours* is number two in the app's global stats? Honestly, I would have been, a decade earlier. But I'm still way too young to remember this albums's commercial success when it was released, so I needed to discover it on my own terms first, just like a lot of other people. I'm glad that I did now, obviously... So each track is a small masterpiece, but the one tune that actually convinced me *Rumours*'s reputation was deserved is "The Chain". It chords changes get me every time. Learning that the song actually depicted all the drama and personal stuff going on behind the scenes is just cream on the cake here. Since I'm evoking biographical elements here... Rest In peace, Christine McVie. Recent news in 2022 have been a hard blow for music fans all over the world. And let me use the occasion to *also* pay homage to Mimi Parker from Low, criminally absent from Dimery's book. Here was another insanely talented musician who deceased this year, and she deserves as much a tribute as Christine McVie does. Those two women had so much talent, and their voices could send you to heaven. Now that Parker and McVie are in the latter, angels there will probably take some notes for their own choirs, at least... Album left to review: more than 700. Keepers: half so far, approximately (including this one) Potential keepers: a quarter. Stinkers: another quarter.

Aw, Belle And Sebastian... I've always really *wanted* to like this band. Badly. On paper, it's as if I should be charmed by their timeless, unobtrusive style and witty one-liners. But the truth is, I get bored pretty quickly when I try listening to their albums. All those airy vocal lines and happy-go-lucky trumpet parts sound a little too hackneyed and/or naive to my ears. Maybe the fault lies with me, I don't know... That said, I still feel like if really you had to select one or even two important records from this band, *The Boy With The Arab Strap* or *If You're Feeling Sinister* should come first. My overall boredom is less noticeable when I try listening to those LPs. So, it's gonna be "no" for *"Tigermilk"*. Number of albums left to review: 711 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 145 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 80 (including this one)

In the realm of albums exclusively built with other musicians' samples, *this* just can't compete with the first DJ Shadow releases. DJ Shadow had it all: mystery, breadth, scope, dynamics, groove, melodies, evocative nocturnal moods, a varied tracklisting... In comparison, The Avalanches sound like a one-trick pony. They're meek, one-note, even bland sometimes (sure, they're messy as well, but it's a mess that flattens everything out to the same sort of mundane, ordinary level). Pretty ironical when you beat the world's record of the number of samples used for a single album (or you're close to beat it anyway). It's not a surprise even the creators of this album had a lot of trouble selecting a track from it that would be a decent single. They say it's because you couldn't extract one out of the original sequence it's from somehow. But maybe the truth is simpler than that. Maybe it's because *nothing* actually stands out in this record... Number of albums left to review: 710 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 145 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 81 (including this one)

When The White Stripes were at their apex, I couldn't see their appeal. I thought their "retro-rock" was a regression, nothing more. Seeing them live made me understand a little better what they were all about. Now, decades later, I *do* get how important they were. Rock kept moving forward, no matter what. It's just that looking into the past is *also* actually important if you want to move forward. This band represents the best of that transition the early aughts needed to go through. Some of the acts representing that transition were not as skilled as the White Stripes were when it came to leave an imprint in listeners' minds, that's all. Those lesser bands are the ones that just signified a fad, nothing more. In comparison, Jack and Meg White had a distinct sound, as well as timeless songs. You just can't beat that. That's why they deserve their place in this list... Number of albums left to review: 709 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 146 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 81

An "elevator music" version of house/techno that's only bearable if you're going up one floor. Only seven people in here gave a 5/5 grade to this turd (and twenty-six gave it a 4/5 mark). Everyone else went to 3/5 or lower. And this clear lack in popularity is not because The Shamen made challenging or "difficult" music. On the contrary, it's because most listeners rightly assessed that this album was blatantly cheesy and commercial at the time--and that it has now aged horribly. I thus count thirty-three users of this app who just have appalling tastes in music, and so badly need to "educate" their ears a little. Interestingly, given the dates of their reviews and the number of records they went through, most of those listeners seem to have given up using the app pretty quick anyway. Good riddance, I'd say. Number of albums left to review: 708 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 146 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 82 (including this one, obviously)

"Teenage Kicks" and a couple of other cuts are instant classics. A great early pop-punk album. Its only problem is that, even for this genre and particular time period, some of the songs are a little samey. But they're all good nonetheless. Truth be told, the Undertones never pretended to be more than a decent punk band with catchy tunes. This key album from them is refreshing enough to make you forget about its obvious limitations. Understated, but also slightly underrated, maybe... Number of albums left to review: 707 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 147 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 82

It's incredible how many essential jazz albums are missing from this list (I've found the latter online). Key releases by John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Charles Mingus and many others *should* be there... So I guess when one of those records miraculously finds its way in said list, I can't complain, for once. What sounds good in *Sunday At The Village Vanguard* on first listens is how each member of the trio seems to have a telepathic sense of what the two others are about to do. Vivid shapes materialize in front of your eyes if you're paying attention to this. There are moments when you're thinking: "Damn! What is this musician doing now? He's going so far away from the other two, that's not gonna work, everything's gonna crum... Oh. It works. The others just adapted. And now he's back in line." Simply incredible. Just discovered that bassist Scott LaFaro died a few days after this session in a car accident. That's so sad. Clearly, he was at the top of his game here, and so are Evans and Motian. To conclude, here are few words about the moody closer "Jade Visions", so slow, mysterious and melancholic. Here it's not a solo that shines like the moon, but the whole piece. Spotless ending, here, perfect for a film noir scene... Number of albums left to review: 706 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 148 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 82

That's all very middle of the road. It's not horrible, it's not great, it's just enough. I'm so bored by this record that I here actually copied-and-pasted one of the best reviews about it I could find on the app. I'm pretty sure its author can understand why I did this, and so won't blame me for it. This record mostly comprises blues covers mixed with a few originals, and among the latter, only the "Let It Grow" ballad towards the end is worth it--it"s quite a moving song to be honest and helps the album reach a 3/5 grade here. Of course, there's also the famous "I Shot The Sheriff" cover, which didn't bring much personal input to Bob Marley's original version, as "efficient" as it is. Clapton always "played it safe" when he plundered black music, didn't he? That's one of the perks of being a conservative coward, whether musically (Clapton's "blues orthodoxy" during the sixties was a clear sign of the problems to come), or politically (should I really list the number of times the man just simply *got it wrong*, to use a polite understatement?)... So obviously, my assessment of *461 Ocean Boulevard* can't ignore the fact that its author is a twat today (and has often been one in the past as well). Maybe folks will stop wasting their time on his minor releases now, at least--minor releases such as this particular LP, which only has two or three highlights in it, and only one of them is a Clapton composition, to boot. If *really* you want to know about Clapton's impact on music history, only listen to the key albums he took part in where his name *does NOT appear on the cover* (or only in small characters). Projects such as Cream, Derek And The Dominos, Yardbirds or the one with John Mayall. Don't bother with the rest. It's not really worth it. Number of albums left to review: 701 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 148 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 82 (including this one)

I get what the topical lyrics are all about. I get that they try to make sense out of the complex legacy the southern US states have had to deal with, between segregation and the old George Wallace supporters among poor white folks... Under that light, I can somehow appreciate the band's intent as they try to reconcile Neil Young and Lynyrd Skynyrd's different takes on such issues. To those it may interest, Neil Young has always been pretty candid about how his song "Alabama" had actually been unfair to the subtleties people who lived there went through--interestingly he never recanted about the overall message of "Southern Man", which might mean he still had a point about southerners' cowardice, at least broadly speaking... But anyway, yes, I "get" what this record is all about. But I *also* get that the music on this album is just damn awful, even with all those topical issues weighing in the balance. Vocals are hackneyed, the music is unoriginal, and the lyrics are on the nose, or heavy like a thesis statement. And ironically. invoking the memory of both Neil Young and Lynyrd Skynird in the first songs only proves one thing: that Drive-By Truckers had none of the latter's skills as songwriters. What a strange way to unite the two, really... Number of albums left to review: 700 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 148 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 83 (including this one)

All four Velvet Underground albums deserve to be in this list. This one is the most "intimate" release of the four, and yet such intimacy is complemented by the religious and/or transcendent overtones that made "Beginning To See The Light" or "Pale Blue Eyes" breathtaking cuts in the VU repertoire. Add to this the groove of "What Goes On", the off-kilter experimental drive of "The Murder Mystery" (which aptly foretells no wave stuff à la Sonic Youth), plus the irony of "After Hours" or the melancholy of "Candy Says", and you have... a stone-cold classic. Number of albums left to review: 699 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 149 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 70 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 83

Er... I guess this is the George Michael album to potentially include in a list such as this one given that it contains his most timeless hits "Faith", "I Want Your Sex" or "Monkey". The cheesy eighties sounds of the rest have aged a lot, obviously, but I guess you can find some relative charms to the different styles used throughout this LP, at least, even though it's not my thing. Number of albums left to review: 698 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 149 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 83

So OK, I "get" the feeling of grassroots-folk authenticity this sort of record can provide to listeners who might have a knack for moody, melancholic pieces. But the price to pay here, the unshakable feeling that *all* those droning songs sound very samey in the end, is a little too high, maybe. I don't hold a grudge against the artist, just doing his thing here. But the critics who raved about him during the early naughts seemed to have turned a blind eye to the obvious limitations of what it was that he was *actually* doing: mostly a sort of barebones psychedelic folk thing not harmonious enough to serve as decent background music, and, very unfortunately, churning out tunes that are not layered and memorable enough to catch your attention for more than three songs in a row either. A lose-lose situation, if you can get my meaning here... Only 15 persons or so on the app thought this record was an absolute keeper and gave it a 5/5 grade. That doesn't *necessarily* mean they're wrong (this music is *not* horrible). The thing is, if you want to select an example of outlier, off-kilter folk tunes, The Incredible String Band were probably more interesting and adventurous than Devendra Banhart ever was, even though that earlier band received an even lower grade than him. Sometimes you need to pick a side. The Incredible Strings Band were too original to be labelled as "background music". Devendra Banhart's intent is not so clear, comparatively speaking... Number of albums left to review: 697 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 149 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 84 (including this one)

Just like I do for some of the presents loved ones or family members give you for Christmas every year, I politely thank the 1001 Albums app for this nice gesture. December 25th is the right time to receive gifts, is it not? But to be fair, and all politeness aside, every year *some* of the gifts I receive stay untouched, or they are put in the back of cupboard shelves, never to be seen again. A Phil-Spector-curated compilation from the early sixties featuring The Ronettes, Darlene Love and other similar acts is still miles better than anything Mariah Carey ever pulled off afterwards to ruin your ears every late December (I won't be polite at all if I receive *that* gift next year). The thing is, if really I wanted to have a great example of the Wall-Of-Sound aesthetics in my record collection, I'd rather go to a *regular* album by The Ronettes or by any other act that Spector produced around the same time (long before he became the troubled criminal he is today--but that's a christmas yarn for another time, kiddies...). Besides, being stuck with the same cheesy theme for the course of a whole album is just exhausting, even when it's the right time of the year. If really I had to play a X-mas record to set everyone around me in the right mood on that very day, I think Frank Sinatra's similarly-themed LPs would be more efficient and less obnoxious choices than this, as clichéed and potententially tiring as the latter are themselves... Number of albums left to review: 696 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 149 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 85 (including this one)

harrowing /ˈharəʊɪŋ/ adjective acutely distressing. "a harrowing album about doomed love, addiction and death" downcast /ˈdaʊnkɑːst/ adjective (of a person) feeling despondent. "Robert Smith is quite a downcast character, is he not?" depressive /dɪˈprɛsɪv/ adjective causing feelings of severe despondency and dejection "How depressive the mood is on *Disintegration*!" Goth /ɡɒθ/ noun a style of rock music derived from punk, typically with apocalyptic or mystical lyrics. "The Cure has produced many records that fans of Goth music love, but *Disintegration* is the rare one where said label can be used for the album in full." dreamy /ˈdriːmi/ adjective having a magical or pleasantly unreal quality; dreamlike. "The dreamy atmosphere on The Cure's eighth studio album makes the latter particularly stand out for shoegaze fans." long /lɒŋ/ adjective lasting or taking a great amount of time. "The Cure loved to play long tracks with repetitive patterns at the end of the eighties, thereby providing many hypnotic cuts for their fans." disintegration /dɪsˌɪntɪˈɡreɪʃn/ noun the process of losing cohesion or strength. "As rambling and shapeless as The Cure' *Disintegration* may seem on first listens, with its lengthy cuts and ever-circling vocal lines, its entopic music actually mirrors the album's artistic point (and lyrical intent): taking a series of snapshots of a soul slowly dissolving." Number of albums left to review: 695 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 148 (including this one, with a 4.5/5 grade, here rounded up to 5/5) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 85

So bland. Cheesy, naive and/or innocuous. Maybe you can salvage the first track somehow, but everything else is too dumb, musically or lyrically speaking. The one with all the clichéed metaphors about Kacey's unreliable love interest being like a horse got me laughing out loud, I admit. The thing is, I'm pretty sure that was not her intent to be comical here. Duh. 🙄I'm not wasting any more time on this review, I've already wasted to much of it trying to listen to this artist. Musgraves is criminally overrated by prominent music websites these days, but she's not the only one... Don't *fully* trust Dimery's list after 2010, by the way: half of it is filled with albums made by such overrated artists. Which is a crime given the insane amount of great music that's been recorded in the last ten years or so... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Being a music-first, lyrics-later kind of guy, I've always had troucle understanding the impact this iconic album made on people over time. It's not that the music is not good, it *is*. But the tracks on this album are more like *exquisite* extended jams than songs proper. *Exquisite* because the performances are amazing, and they manage to draw from *very* different genres (soul, traditional folk music, jazz, rock...), gathering them into a cohesive, quite personal whole. But as hard as I tried getting the nuances in those performances, the lack of chord variations has always been an impediment on my appreciation of what Van Morrison attempted to do here.I've just realized that if I follow the (partly improvised?) lyrics while listening to those tracks, *Astral Weeks* takes on a whole different dimension. It's probably the 'stream-of-consciousness' feel of those lyrics, mirroring a vocal performance where Van Morrisson literally uses his voice the way a jazz sax player would use his instrument. This record is one-of-a-kind, there's no doubt about that. In spite of my previous problems with it, I'll give it a 4/5 or 4,5/ grade, rounded up to 5/5 here because of its originality and cultural impact. I might not *fully* get *Astral Weeks* yet. But for once, I'm pretty sure it's because of my own mindset whenever I listen to it, and not because of any intrinsic artistic *flaws*. Sometimes mystery makes you return to LPs you still cannot fully grasp. This is rare, but when it happens, you just *know* they're actually "essential" albums... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Kick me under the table all you want, I won't shut up about this album. It's sprawling, adventurous, playful, and expertly produced, with a domestic feeling that's miles away from the all-too-neat sounds of mainstream pop these days. It's experimental yet extremely catchy at the same time (See "Cosmonaut"'s chorus for one example of such "catchiness"). The lyrics are very "topical" most of the time but they're never on the nose, an asset that is mirrored in the performances themselves. Fiona Apple is a virtuoso on the piano and an incredible singer. But she also left many supposed "flaws" apparent during the recording process, along with off-kilter moments that make the whole thing sound sincere and very endearing. My only (minor) complaint is that the album is maybe *a little* too long. A more reasonable amount of self-editing, like taking out a couple of songs out of the record's tracklisting, would have created an even stronger *whole* overall (that's where Pitchfork's perfect 10 grade might be somewhat exaggerated imho). But as I've already suggested at the start of this paragraph, this is only a "minor" complaint. My own assessment can be summed up through a 4.5/5 grade here, rounded up to 5 for the usual purposes of this app. It's not often than a *recent* record in this list actually deserves all the praise. Shameika said Fiona had "potential", after all. Damn was she right about that! Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Out of the string of classic albums Ray Davies and co. released from *The Kink Kontroversy* to *Lola Versus The Moneygoround*, this is my least favorite, for reasons I can't quite fathom myself. All the key ingredients of the Kinks' second period are there, though. Here are the witty, sarcastic cuts about the British middle class (opener "Party Line", for instance, or the upbeat ditties "Dandy" and "A House In the Country"--another clear inspiration for later britpop stalwarts Blur). We can also find tongue-in-cheek, quite "meta" callbacks to their rockier beginnings ("Session Man"). Plus moody setpieces such as the wonderful "A Rainy Day In June", the droning, quasi-psychedelic "Fancy", and obviously that timeless hit that "Sunny Afternoon" is. Reading myself again, I realize *Face To Face* deserves to be considered among the band's finest records. It's just that the whole doesn't gel the way their other classic albums do--maybe because the album's tracklisting is a little too topsy-turvy, even compared to the band's usually eccentric and "messy" standards when it comes to 180-degrees turns. So I will switch my initial 4/5 grade to a 4.5 - 5 one nonetheless. Face to face with Davies' songwriting genius, it's the least that i can do. Number of albums left to review: 691 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 151 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 86

Once upon a time, there was a very nice style called Prog Rock, that just looooooved to have little musical adventures, going to the jazzy woods one day, sailing over the experimental lakes on another one, or climbing on the back of their friend Hard Rock, the gentle giant of the East, on yet another one of those innocent years from the early seventies. Some mean, mean children mocked Prog Rock sometimes, but Prog Rock didn't care. First because *other* children still liked Prog Rock well enough. But most of all, because Prog Rock was a good-natured, spontaneous sort of style. And in the land of music, as long as all styles were sincere, creative and artful, they were liked well-enough. Once in a while, Prog Rock took herself a little too seriously, that's true. But her heart was always in the right place: all she ever wanted to do was to create a world of musical wonders for other children to enjoy (wonders named King Crimson, Pink Floyd, Yes, Genesis, Soft Machine, Robert Wyatt, Procol Harum...). Who could blame Prog Rock for all that, really? Little did Prog Rock know that the Eighties were looming on the horizon, and that they had sent to the land of music a band of ruffians known as Rush, led by Geddy Lee, the wicked witch of the west. Geddy Lee had a voice like nails on a chalkboard and a brain the size of a pea. But if he couldn't sing gracefully, or write interesting lyrics, he was still shrewd enough to find ways to get what he wanted from the lands of music. He went to Prog Rock and said: "Look at our trinkets, child, and listen to our nice "modern" sounds--do you like them?" "I'm not sure," Prog Rock answered. "But people say I have an adventurous spirit. Maybe I could try them, as weird as they seem to me now. Maybe I could turn them into something good." "Yes, maybe," Geddy Lee replied. "But please, don't overthink it--make the same weird sort of time-signatures you usually enjoy, sure. But don't ever make anything that would be too mesmerizing or graceful in terms of melody. Fill your creations with *stuff*: soulless technical prowess, dumb heavy-metal guitar solos, flashy shenanigans... *That's* the most important thing to do for our masters the Eighties." "The... Eighties?" Prog Rock asked. Out of the corners of her eyes, Prog Rock saw that one of the Rush members was trying to ride on the back of Hard Rock, the gentle giant of the east. Hard Rock was shaking and fiercely resisting. Prog Rock felt a lump in her throat. Something was going awfully wrong here... "What... What are you here for?" Prog Rock asked Geddy Lee. "We're here to make music with you," Geddy Lee answered with a sly pout on his lips. "How about giving me a little kiss, for starters? I'm sure this will make the most beautiful sound ever." "I'm... I'm not sure I want to," Prog Rock stammered with fear in her heart. "C'mon... Just one little kiss" "No." But Geddy Lee had already grasped his hands around Prog Rock's waist: "C'MON YOU FUCKING BITCH, GIVE ME THAT FUCKING KISS NOW, OR I'M GONNA KILL YA" All around him, the Rush members suddenly produced machine guns and started to shoot everything around them. Horrid sounds started to be heard throughout the lands of music. Most of the children were horrified--but *a few* of them liked those tragic sounds, oddly enough. Some of those kids were dumb and mean, as suggested earlier. And among them, a few actually liked shallow and soulless creations. Geddy Lee looked at Prog Rock in the eye: "Give me what I want, or I swear to you, I'm gonna make you squeal..." But Prog Rock resisted, just like Hard Rock did. Mad with anger and frustration, Geddy Lee took out a knife. For one second, it flashed under Prog Rock's eyes. It is said that when Geddy Lee stabbed Prog Rock, a horrid and hackneyed synth sound resonated all around the lands, the same sound that can be heard in the first seconds of "Tom Sawyer": "Tcccccchhhhhhiiioooooooooonk..." And so Rush plundered and pillaged the lands of music. But they were only the *first* harbingers of doom. Marillion came not long after, for instance. And *other* styles in the lands would quickly be violated and emptied of their true meaning, just like Prog Rock after her lifeblood left her when Geddy Lee stabbed her to death. And that, kiddies, is how the Eighties took over the lands of music and murdered several important styles. Other survived and thrived after the Eighties' demise, fortunately. But that's a story for another time, I guess... The end. At least, the end of Prog Rock, sadly. Number of albums left to review: 690 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 151 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 87 (including this one)

Layers and layers of mesmerizing sounds from legendary pioneers. Very much of its time, when everything about electronic music still needed to be discovered. And yet also nothing like what came after in that overall genre or umbrella style. Plus, one can still potentially trip or chill out to this today, just as hippies did in 1974. Tangerine Dream's early output is a little like good wine. It ages well. In a way, the retro-sci-fi mood *Phaedra* can trigger in you is even more impactful today, because it is now infused with the sort of "future nostalgia" very rare acts have been able to reach since (I'm talking about Boards Of Canada here, *not* about Dua Lipa, obviously 😉). The two other gems Tangerine Dream released after this one (*Rubycon* and *Stratosfear*) were admittedly lmore melodic and less "abstract", comparatively speaking. But none had *Phaedra*'s sheer conceptual power and unique atmosphere. Hence its direct inclusion in my own list. Number of albums left to review: 689 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 152 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): 87

Why do I feel that a compilation from this band (ideally including *both* their famous cuts and lesser known, more stylistically varied endeavors) will always be more pleasurable than any single LP they ever released? Maybe it's a lack of knowledge about disco or funk history on my part, admittedly. But listening to *That's The Way of The World*, I can't help shake that feeling (while shaking my ass and legs on the dancefloor as well--I'm not saying this record fails in that area, by the way: all I'm saying is that it is just *one* little piece from a far larger puzzle). At least, *That's The Way Of The World* is a nice tribute to the band's spotless musicianship. But, as I've just suggested, it's not a tribute to Earth Wind And Fire as timeless hitmakers. Let's be honest for one second--those "September", "Let's Groove", and "Boogie Wonderland" singles are what popular consciousness automatically associates the Earth Wind And Fire name with. And none of them are in this LP. Of course, that doesn't mean the latter is bad on its own. The two tracks closing the proceedings, "Africano" and "See The Light" have mean fusion grooves, with exciting solos in them (on a saxophone for the first of those tracks, and on synths for the second). But everything else is a little too predictable, maybe, especially the somewhat cheesy ballads (the title track, "All About Love" and "Reasons"). And if the whole offering is fun overall, it's far from sounding "essential" to me. Last-minute update: I've just learned that the Earth Wind And Fire drummer passed away today, of all days. I suspect it was actually not a coincidence this record popped up in the app this morning (it wouldn't be the first time such fake 'coincidences' happen in here). I'm not changing a word from my review, though. I have already praised both the band's musicianship and their timeless hits in it, even if the album itself wasn't really my thing. Podiums and best-of-lists are not so important anyway. What's important is to use those opportunities to celebrate good music of all kinds. Rest in peace (or in power), Fred White. Number of albums left to review: 688 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 152 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 88 (including this one)

My favorite Siouxsie And The Banshees album, a band I didn't know I needed so badly before undertaking this project and consulting Dimery's list online (the man should be thanked a thousand times for this, in spite of all the "wrong" albums he or his team singled out). *Juju* is not so much gothic "post-punk" as *pop-punk as it should actually be defined in popular consciousness*. Budgie's drumming is dynamic and powerful, John McGeogh's jagged guitar lines vibrate with an intensity rarely heard in this overall genre, and Siouxsie's voice is haunting. This is, for me, their strongest set of songs. *The Scream* and *Kaleidoscope* also have great moments, but none of those records are as cohesive and impressive as *Juju*. No dud to be found in here: "Arabian Nights", "Monitor", "Spellbound' and "Into the Light", especially, can get stuck in your head for hours after listening to the LP. Have I already used the word "haunting" in this short review? I hope I did, because *Juju* is the perfect illustration of it, in all its many senses. 5 stars, nothing less. Number of albums left to review: 687 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 153 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 88

Here's the exact example of what a *good* album should NOT be, and this in any genre out there. To put it in a nutshell, Destiny's Child was essentially an amazing act when it cames to their singles, but they *never* released any masterpiece in the album format. According to many fans of "Queen Bey", it's a problem lead singer Beyoncé would fix later on during her solo career, starting with her eponymous fifth full-length effort in the early 2010s, (followed by *Lemonade* and the very recent *Renaissance*, released last year). But that's a story for another time, I imagine... To return to *Survivor*, the album admittedly starts strong and self-assured with "Independent Women Part 1" and the title track (two insanely catchy cuts that are part of the four or maybe five most famous songs ever performed by the iconic r'n'b girl group during their short career). Those two cuts sure trigger a roaring start--and *yes*, the three next songs after them still hold their own pretty well, all things considered (especially the kinky and lively "Bootylicious" ). Unfortunately, everything following the fifth song peters out, and it peters out incredibly *fast*, whether in the US or the longer, "international" edition of the album. Very quickly indeed, this record loses focus and momentum through a series of very questionable choices: meandering, pointless production lacking any sense of build-up and sprinkled with weird and useless sound effects seemingly taken from Super Mario Kart; technically spotless vocal performances that yet meander very much as well, due to predictable lines with no real "soul" in them (in spite of a very "performative" bravado here displayed to hide the lack of any original content or idea); interspersed between the faster cuts, a few cheesy ballads that seem to have been heard a thousand times before--both types of tracks being filler and no killer; and finally, a conclusion that is basically a gigantic question mark: what's the real point of that accapella cut "Gospel Medley"--going through all the clichés of a Harlem mass withouth any really *personal* input added to them--here followed by the awkward and dated "rapping" of the "outro" "Thank You"? Can someone explain? So what we *really* have to deal with here is only five tracks going from decent to great. Everything else is totally irrelevant. Most other reviewers using this app seem to agree with me by the way; up to now, there's only been *5* reviews that gave a 5/5 mark to this record (including a review in French that is mostly off-topic). That's an incredibly *low* number for such a "mainstream" album. Maybe someone could write a book called "The 1001 *EPs* You Should Listen To Before you Die" and place *Survivor* in it? You tell me. Number of albums left to review: 686 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 153 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 71 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 89 (including this one)

I have this CD at home. The title track packs a punch, along with a few others ones (like "The Boomin' System" or "Eat Them Up L Chill"). Yet when it comes to timeless rap music, I'm not so sure this clearly dated example of hip hop can be said to be as relevant today as it seemed to be in the early nineties, and this either lyrically/vocally or musically. Producer Marley Marl still does a more-than-decent job, I guess. For instance, he nicely mimicks the layers of apocalyptic sounds favored by Public Enemy's The Bomb Squad production team on "Murdergram". But without PE's topical or political sense of urgency, the track seems to run nowhere fast, really. As for the smoother, more "seductive" side of LL Cool J's music, it cruelly lacks the jazzy subtlety of the Native Tongues crew (bands such as A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul and Jungle Brothers). Hip hop amateurs already know what I'm talking about here... That said, *Mama Said Knock You Out* can still be a pleasant nostalgic listen for fans of old hip hop. Does that make the album an "essential" one, though? The jury's still out on this one... Number of albums left to review: 685 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 153 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 72 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 89

Can't beat that review saying that *Rubber Soul* and *Revolver* are two sides of the same extraordinary coin. Unsurprisingly, *Sgt. Pepper*, the White Album and *Abbey Road* are my favorites in the Beatles's discography, but those two earlier records are also the two grand gates that lead you to those lands. And as such, they are as essential as the three I've just quoted here. About *Rubber Soul* in particular, what I'm about to write won't surprise anyone. First, there's the most famous songs that make that album the legend that it is today (the groovy and lively "Drive My Car", the trippy "Norwegian Wood", that insanely catchy "Nowhere Man", "Michelle" and its naive lyrics in French, or that miraculous feat of economical songwriting that the moving and melancholic "In My Life" is). But there are also the less-known cuts that are actually as good as those famous hits ("You Won't See Me", "Think For Yourself", "The Word" and "Wait"). To put in in a nutshell, almost everything in *Rubber Soul* is well worth your time--minus one or two ditties that can't really hurt the whole thing. It is nothing less than a blueprint of what makes us all use this app: the album as a modern art form. How can this one *not be* in the list? A few words about controversial closer "Run For Your Life" now... That song has very disturbing lyrics, obviously. But honestly, it would be hypocritical for me to condemn it as a piece of art given that I can also enjoy Eminem's most disturbing raps as examples of the sort of narrative leeway and poetic license great musicians and songwriters can get away with. If anything, that contrast between the threatening lyrics and the happy-go-lucky catchiness of the music creates an interesting, off-kilter experience. Yes, Lennon did hit women at least once or twice during the course of his life, adding to the uneasy feeling this song can trigger in you. Him publicly regretting those acts later on doesn't *fully* redeem him as a person, by the way--he has been an asshole with women in more ways than one, most evidently, and that's something no one should forget. Yet I'm still buying Lennon's claim that his subsequent will to naively praise peace, love and understanding *also* stemmed from those personal experiences as a man. The words he used during those later interviews were anything but ambiguous or hypocritical: it was *all* his fault, and that was another reason for him to try to "imagine" a world were such heinous acts would never happen. Please note that I'm trying hard NOT to separate the man from the artist here. I guess there are just different ways to do it, and that some of them can still take into account somewhat "grey" areas... Who in his right mind would *seriously* try to "cancel" the Beatles now anyway? You may not like their songs, and you may not like who they were as individuals. But it would be vain or foolish to try to deny the gigantic influence those individuals have had on popular culture. Those four young men, *still in their twenties when this album came out*, were incredibly gifted musicians and songwriters. And that's another thing that makes *Rubber Soul* the monument it still is today, along with at least five or six other LPs from the band. Good luck for the record that pops up after this one. Number of albums left to review: 686 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 154 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 72 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 89

Out of all the first solo outputs of the Wu-Tang Clan members, this is the one that too many critics and listeners have always criminally *underrated* in my humble opinion. And it's happening again, on this app: OK, there are very few 5/5 grades, but if you pay attention to the 4/5 and even 3/5 reviews, the vast majority of those reviewers seem to have really, *really* enjoyed listening to this record (3/5 reviews are usually not that positive overall). Not taking into account the 2/5 and 1/5 marks here, where it's obvious that those other reviewers can't enjoy or even understand good hip hop. Since most of those complainers were quite candid about this lack of understanding on their part, I can still respect their honesty at least. Always better than the few bad faith takes here and there, like that one reviewer trying to explain how late nineties "gangster rap" was better, and then putting east coast Wu-Tang (as a whole unit) and west coast Dré, Snoop Dog or 2Pac under that *same* umbrella genre. As if those two groups of rappers were creating the same sort of music... Buy yourself some ears before giving us your "impressions", please. Anyway, and in spite of my own complaints about some of the reviews and grades, I'm so happy this record found its way to this list. Its overall mood is dark yet lively, RZA goes from one catchy loop to the next, and Method Man's husky voice and lyrical aggressivity do wonders. His voice is a little buried in the mix sometimes, but I actually like that choice, it adds to the hazy ambience of the whole thing. Listen to "Biscuits" or "Bring The Pain" for stellar examples of the sort of moodpiece RZA and Method Man can create here, one that's not so far from what the kind of murky trip-hop that someone like Tricky would play not so long after, right on the other side of the pond. Contrasting with those more atmospheric cuts, you have boom bap bangers such as "Release Yo' Delf"--with its blaring warlike horns and interpolations taken from "I Will Survive"--or "Mr Sandman" and its eerie and haunting opera-like soprano voice lurking in the background like a spooky ghost. Funny how those bangers are actually closer to the end of the album than the more atmospheric cuts. *Tical* kinda starts with low-key stakes, but it then builds up from one track to the next, and I can't praise that sort of tracklisting enough (and this in any genre). It's when everything goes out with a bang at the end that you fully realize the scope of this record. See the other boom bap miracle that "Stimulation" is (that goddamn sample of uneasy strings!) and the unavoidable remix of "Method Man" concluding the proceedings--a callback to *Enter The Wu-Tang* that obviously needed to be included here, in this first solo output from one of the most prominent member of the Staten Island crew. Speaking of the LP's "architecture", I also love the fact that this record is quite short for a hip hop album, and that the individual tracks never overstay their welcome themselves, encouraging repeated listens rather than meandering through too many filler cuts for 60 or 70 minutes (a flaw that even the greatest rap albums out there have often displayed). My overall grade for this thing would be 4.5/5, just to differentiate it from the masterpiece that GZA's *Liquid Swords* is when it comes to legendary Wu Tang solo outputs. Had *Tical* included the insanely good "All I Need' remix featuring Mary J. Blige (only released as a single), maybe it would have been up there with *Liquid Sword*, to be honest. But given the injustice I still sense in this album's reception, whether it was then or now, I'm gonna round up that grade to a perfect 5/5 here. Wu-Tang Forever! Number of albums left to review: 685 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 155 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 72 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 89

One of the best LPs of 1982, if not THE best of that year. The amount of earworms in that album is simply incredible, and its unpretentious production values (in an era that was literally *plagued* by them) makes this debut a timeless masterpiece. It's hilarious how many listeners in the reviews thought this thing was released in the early *nineties*. 5 stars, no hesitation here. Number of albums left to review: 684 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 156 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 72 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 89

Miles's first game changer (and the first in quite an impressive list: see *Milestones*/*Kind Of Blue*, *Sketches Of Spain*, *In A Silent Way*/*Bitches Brew*, *On The Corner*...). Not as striking today as those later masterpieces, but still an essential listen for sure... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

If *really* I had to include a country album in my own list, this might be one of the most obvious choices here. Of course, knowing some of those songs through the covers made by other famous acts does help a lot here (see for instance the Beatles' version of "Act Naturally). I remember that when I started this project, I was a little harsh with Marty Robbins' *Gunfighter Ballads And Trail Songs*. Come to think of it, that was one of the best records in that genre included in Dimery's list. So it will probably be in my own list as well, along with the masterpiece that Johnny Cash's *At Folsom Prison* is. To me Cash sounds different: the tunes he performed had that mix of emotion and humor, along with an underlying sense of danger or transgression, that made him sound like a true rock star. And of course, there's that incredible gravelly voice. Everyone and their mothers sound like wimps next to this giant. Including (and especially) Buck Owens, ha ha. Now the question remains: is *three country albums only* a prejudice on my part? You tell me. I'm still expecting this app to make me understand what's so great about this genre overall. Yes, you do have catchy tunes in that style. But you also often have predictable chord progressions and arrangements and a very linear sort of "energy" (except for Cash or Robbins, once again). And I've tried. I really tried. I even listened to country-like LPs closer to the rock idiom (The Byrds' *Sweetheart Of The Rodeo*, Gram Parsons, John Prine...), and they sound even worse to my ears. I wish someone could explain how to "handle" such albums... The *only* act that made me understand what can truly be great when you venture in that genre is Big Thief. By all means, listen to the few country cuts from *Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You", they are simply extraordinary songs and performances. But apart from those few exceptions, *all* listed in that review, the spark is missing... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Ahead of its time in its protopunk leanings, *Da Capo* is also a good example of early psychedelic rock, with a few great tracks on side A. I'm glad I have this album at home, along with *Forever Changes*. But if the latter obviously needs to be in this list, I'm not so sure about that other record. That long overlong jam on side B has its moments, but it sounds more like an interesting curio than a masterpiece today. On a sidenote: I have always felt that "critcs" did unfairly malign the record following *Forever Changes*, released right after the band's line-up dramatically... changed. To me, *Four Sails* was at least as good as *Da Capo* when it came to point towards the future. And it had incredible openers and closers. Maybe someone should write a book named "1001 *Underrated* Albums That Deserve To Be ListenedTo". Some records in Dimery's orignal list could find their way into it. And others he snubbed could either go into that 'B' list OR in a brand new 'A' list. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Nice for background music, but I have to admit that I got bored pretty quickly here, even on a closer listen. Arrangements are top-notch, of course, courtesy of Eumir Deodato (known for many sixties staple recordings in that overall genre, and also for his later collabs or (re)mixes with Roberta Flack, Björk, Christohe and others)... But the songs, well, they... they just happen. I probably don't have the best ear for samba, to be honest. But given that Astrud's vocal performance sounds quite average to me, this certainly didn't help me warm up to those tunes anyway. Just so you know, I have absolutely nothing with singers with limited skills or range--some of my favorite singers of all time *do* have very limited skills sometimes. But in that case, the music itself needs to be a little more consistent and moving than what I hear on this record. Given the sheer amount of *important* records released in 1967 (and also in the four or five years after), I think *Beach Samba* risks eclipsing some far more important releases down the line. And that's a risk I'm not willing to take for my own list. So that's a no-go for me, even though this album could indeed be the perfect soundtrack for that imaginary video game depicted in that 3/5 assessment currently displayed in the second slot of the reviews gallery. I think I could play that video game about restaurants and food, actually. It sounds like a very relaxing one, ha ha. By the way, that reviewer wrote only fourteen reviews in 2021 and then gave up. That's a shame, this person seemed quite funny... Actually, I wonder how many other ones gave up. And, also, how many are still *currently* writing reviews, still keeping up the pace... Has anyone ever managed to review *all* the 1001 albums? Has someone ever finished this thing? Hope the answers will come soon. In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: 680 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 157 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 74 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 90 (including this one)

Recorded and released right after the success of the David Bowie-produced *Transformer*, Lou Reed's *Berlin* couldn't have been *more* of a 180-turn for those who had appreciated his former album. Not only is this a bleak tale about a couple going through the throes of physical abuse, drug addiction, prostitution and child neglect, but also, it's narrated from the point of view of the main abuser, which makes it a difficult and harrowing concept album to say the least. Obviously, the narrator is very unreliable here, so the hints he gives about his suicidal partner actually using him by proxy to destroy herself should be taken with a huge grain of salt. Cynicism and ambiguity abound throughout those dark lyrics, yet the latter also create a mesmerizing thread to help you go from one track to the next. Starting from a minor cut in one of his former recordings, Lou Reed here imagines the tragic fate of its cursed characters with a lot of vivid and striking details. *Berlin* is thus a very "literary" album, which probably triggered all those early criticisms about its depressing and "pretentious" nature. But in retrospect, a "Transformer, vol. 2" would have been far less interesting than what Reed offered us instead, even with such admittedly harsh lyrical contents. What early critics of *Berlin* also seemed to have missed is the fact that the record is actually worth your time if only for the music itself. Reed's wild card here was his producer, Bob Ezrin, mostly known at the time for his grandiose orchestral arrangements for Alice Cooper--ones he would refine a few years later with his legendary handling of production duties for Pink Floyd's *The Wall*. Listening to *Berlin*'s extraordinary closer "Sad Song", everyone who's ever enjoyed "Comfortably Numb" will be automatically be struck by the obvious connection between the two, with the string arpeggio in Lou Reed's song sounding very much like a wonderful draft of the one Ezrin would later pen for the Floyd. And what the producer brings to *Berlin*'s table is not only about orchestral strings: there's also a very dynamic feast of horns, woods and flutes throughout the record, along with soul-stirring guitar solos, slapping drum parts, and haunting background vocals (either gospel-inspired, as in "Caroline Says I", or drawing from the atonal and metaphysical experiments of György Ligeti for "The Bed"'s conclusion). Add to this a few delicate parts played on mellotron and piano by Ezrin himself, along with an impressive list of seasoned performers for all the other instruments (check it on wikipedia), and you certainly have an A+ production team to do justice to Lou Reed's usual melodic flair in those days... All the songs we've quoted up to now are the obvious highlights of this album, to which glorious music hall number "Lady Day" and rocker "How Do You Think It Feels" should be added as well. The first part of side 2 is a little less convincing, admittedly--and the absence of any genuine moment of levity in that LP probably adds to most listeners' fatigue by this point. But the two last tracks of the album--the slow, incredibly dark and despondent "The Bed", also particularly poignant and atmospheric, followed by the cynical yet totally epic closer that "Sad Song" is--easily make up for these potential flaws. Decades after its release, it is thus obvious that *Berlin* is not the debacle that rock critics said it was at the time. Sure, it's dragged by its own heavy weight once in a while, from the dark subject matter of its lyrics to its layered production displaying so many sophisticated arrangements, just like a pusher takes out different drugs from his coat to tempt an addict. Yet as "heavy" as this album is, rarely have trips to hell and back sounded so lush and enticing. It's probably because the devil usually lies in all the little details--and this whether that devil happens to live in Berlin, "Alaska", or anywhere else in the world... 4,5/5 then, here rounded up to 5/5. Number of albums left to review: 679 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 158 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 74 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 90

Kind of a masterpiece, right? There's not much that I can say about this record that hasn't been said a thousand times before. What a legendary ensemble of musicians. What a game changer (even though Davis' previous LP, *Milestones*, had already opened the gates that led towards 'modal jazz'). And what an amazing collection of tracks. I could listen to the waves "All Blues" so aptly evoke for hours. Those waves are waves of bliss, and *Kind of Blue* is the sort of record you can never get tired of. Five stars, obviously. Dimery's list when it comes to jazz albums is far from perfect, by the way (key LPs usually singled out by jazz fans are missing from it--LPs by Mingus, Coltrane, Blakey, Adderley, Silver, Monk, Roach, Coleman, Chambers, Dolphy, Nina Simone and even Davis himself...). But *Kind of Blue* is in there, at least (as is Coltrane's *A Love Supreme*). Had it not, *no one* would have taken this list very seriously, and this *for any music genre*. That's how important this record is. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

So, OK, there's the grand pretensions of Pete Townshend writing a rock opera, that sprawling tracklisting, and the fact that the obviously surreal narrative drive of said opera is so heavy that it can distract you from time to time... But the thing is, the music on this album is *so* good, whether it is the one of the timeless songs this amazing record harbours ("Pinball Wizard", "We're Not gonna Take It/Se Me, Feel Me" ,"The Acid Queen", "I Feel Free"), or the one of the less famous cuts ("Cousin Kevin", or that long incredible instrumental that "Underture" is), that it's bound to be included in such a list. Ironically, I find this record more easily *digestible* than *Who's Next*, even if it has all the characteristics of a concept album. Evidence for me that it's an all-time great, in spite of its all-too-grand and frankly delirious ambitions on paper... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

This has not aged very well, to be honest. Yet beyond the obviously *dated* big beat / drum'n'bass rhythm patterns, there are also many interesting harmonies--along with catchy loops and punchy licks from time to time. So I wouldn't throw *all of it* into the dust bin of music history. The thing is, who is that music aimed at *today*? Middle-aged folks like me would look like eccentric old-timers playing this in their living room. And younger people would dismiss it as music that's out of touch with current electronic sounds. Time is not kind with forward-looking genres such as EDM. What was futuristic once quickly sounds like a relic of the past, very ironically. You need some kind of special touch or off-kilter charm to make such relics of the past sound truly relevant or original decades later. I hear that the album after that one is also in Dimery's list. At least, all the famous electro-punk hits of the band are in there--and it seems to me they fare a little better today. They're shorter, catchier, and even if everything in that subsequent LP was not up to that level, at least you'd have more interesting dynamics throughout. So *maybe* it's better to save some room in my own list for that *other* Prodigy album... But to return to *this* record, that "jilted generation" mentioned in its title now mostly evokes pictures of old people going to a rave party, which is quite a bizarre thought in itself, isn't it? Not that I would have any problem with it happening--it's just that I would think twice before going to such a weird sort of rave party myself. My personal experience is that if you played this sort of record to, let's say, the teens in my house, they would just roll their eyes and dismiss the whole thing as a quirky impulse on my part. This sort of thing rarely happens when you play Neil Young, Talking Head, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Tears For Fears, The Cure, Pixies, Nirvana, Elliot Smith, Jeff Buckley, A Tribe Called Quest, Beastie Boys, Björk, DJ Shadow, Queens of The Stone Age, The Strokes or The White Stripes. Most of the time, those teens will like what they hear, and even if they don't, they're often intrigued by those older sounds, at least. Play stuff like The Prodigy, and they will just tell you it doesn't resonate with them at all. It won't elicit any meaningful reaction from them. It will just be categorized as "out of fashion" stuff. When in doubt about old music, *always* trust youth's reactions. They'll tell you if something has aged well or not. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

So OK, *The Queen Is Dead* is in my list of essential albums as well, there are so many great songs in it. But do we *really* need another record from The Smiths in said list? All the other LPs are clearly at least a notch under in term of overall quality: it's that sometimes annoying "affected" way that Morrissey sings those tunes. And the man has become such an egregious character today that, frankly, one wishes mentions of him should not exceed what is strictly necessary for the general purposes of such a list. Maybe we should leave some room for amazing artists that are also bright enough so as to *not* turn into complete twats as they get older. In that line of thought, I suddenly realize that I should now apply the exact same thing for Kanye West. Ouch, that's hard. I still feel *MBDTF* and *Yeezus* (along with one of the two first "Registration" albums, maybe) should be included in my list... So OK--given that The Smith have only released four "real" albums, I should at least include a second one by them. So let's dive into those 'Strangeways'... "I Started Something I Could Not Finish" is a nice tune, with a great chord progression and witty lyrics: "Death Of A Disco Dancer" is a mesmerizing atmospheric piece with an effective build-up; "Girl In A Coma" is nice little sardonic pop cut (amazing strings arrangements on this one): "Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before" is catchy as hell: "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me" has another one of those terrific chord progressions (everyone raves about Johnny Marr's guitar playing, but he was great composer as well)... As for "Paint A Vulgar Picture", its ironic lyrics comparing a love affair to the shenanigans of the music industry haven't aged a day... Jeeze. I think I *really like* this record, actually. My first impulse was to say I wouldn't select *Strangeways, Here We Come* for my list and take the eponymous debut album instead. But I admit it, I'm hesitating now. And if I take this one as well, why leaving *Meat Is Murder* on the wayside? It's the patchiest affair in The Smiths' discography, but it still has some impressive cuts in it... Damn, I wish Morrissey wasn't such a a-hole today. I guess being a great artist doesn't necessarily prevent you from becoming a poor sod. And yet, I really *tried* not to "separate the man from the artist" here... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Like The Flying Dutchman never able to make it to the shore, some trajectories in music history seemed to fall under some sort of curse. Those trajectories are the ones of generally talented protagonists who seem programmed for unmitigated success, and yet somehow never manage to leave their mark the way everyone initially expected them to. Michael Head seems to be one of those characters. Jinx, missed opportunities, personal addictions and even tragic deaths around him were the rubs he had to face, and one can only sympathize when you read the details about the latter online. In that context, the story behind *H.M.S Fable* is one that deals with a resurrection that's been a long time coming for Head, and given all that he went through to reach that point, one can only feel happy for him. As if it mirrored that optimistic state of affairs, the first two tracks of Shack's third album start on a very promisory note: "Natalie's Party" is an effective opener where the mix of lively strings and fragile vocals actually add a lot of emotions to the proceeding. And if the quite long "Comedy" overstays its welcome a little, it's an instantly catchy cut that can linger in your memory for quite some time... With such a nice way to leave the harbor and set out to the indie nineties seas, it seems that we're on board to spend some great moments with Shack during our voyage with them... Well, the thing is, not exactly. Contrary currents and hostile weather soon play tricks with our sails: the next two tracks "Pull Together" and "Beautiful" indeed bear the marks of utter disaster, and this for several reasons. First, what were the producer and mixing engineers thinking on those ones? The vocal mix in "Pull Together" is indeed terrible, and some other details are just laughable (what the hell is that cowbell doing, so loud in the mix at some point? Why are the levels of the different instruments so unstable?). Yet those flaws wouldn't be so critical if the songs themselves were a little more interesting. And for this latter point, your mileage may greatly vary, unfortunately. Released a few years after Britpop had its most timeless successes, *HMS Fable* indeed sounds like an afterthought. To be perfectly fair, and beyond any production issues that plagued them, the two songs we lamented about up there are mostly insignificant because they sound as if they were composed by your local band playing in the pub around the corner--that band desperately trying to imitate Oasis's hits at a time where the latter were already out of fashion, saccharine layers and fake epic choruses included. The result is more *Be There Yesterday* than *Be Here Now*--and this without even taking into account the already involuntary irony of the latter's title. Next, "Lend's Some Dough* uses another (and actually *older*) influence to better effects. The Kinks' long shadow indeed looms over this cut, which also takes its sweet time exploring chiaruscoro modulations and surprising chord progressions. At this point, one can hope tracks 3 and 4 were only early missteps... Alas, the album's titular ship then turns in circle in "Captain's Table", and the "Streets Of Kenny" lead to nowhere--or at least, not to any truly *memorable* destinations. Shacks alternates between different styles and moods in a very competent way, from mariners' tunes to folk to britpop again, but it all seems pretty pointless melody-wise. Besides, one can't help feeling that there's something a little tired in the vocal perfomances on the LP's second side, as if Head was himself a little unconvinced by his own songs. It takes the barebones final track drawing almost exclusively on his voice and acoustic guitar--with quite an amazing picking work and a poignant chord progression in it--to reconcile us *a little* with this record, at the eleventh hour. But it's not enough to let our sails pick up some needed wind, and it's far too late in the game. At this point, one wonders if the production choices for all the other tracks didn't distract Head from infusing enough *moving* elements into his songs. The last one clearly shows what could have happened if he had and his band had done so. Another missed opportunity, unfortunately. Some ships never return from their trip. All we can hope for them is that they're in a better place than ours. But mostly everyone knows that Flying Dutchmen stories or Bermuda Triangle legends usually cover up a far sadder truth: those ships are at the bottom of the oceans now. 2/5, for the four cuts actually still making this record worth the effort it takes to explore it. But of course, this can't be enough for a list of stellar, truly *essential* albums. What a cruel game this app triggers us to play... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Er... No, thank you. I respect Queen's hardcore fans and their obsessions for their early, more proggy albums. But honestly, not much stands out in the tracklisting of *Queen II*. It's a lot of technical prowess (the harmony of background vocals, those guitar solos...), but *all* songs quickly end up sounding samey. It's like a pointless puzzle where all those elements are assembled in different ways ad nauseam, bringing no discernible dynamics to the whole thing. "Father to Son" has some nice moments. But everything after is quite a borefest, in spit of all the effort put into it. If really I had to include a Queen record in my list, *A Night At The Opera" would be the most likely candidate. There you have those catchy tunes (in a vast array of different styles), along with interesting 180-degrees turns in it. And *maybe* i would add *News Of The World* for its timeless hits, or *Jazz* and its similar stylistic endeavors. But that's about it. Number of albums left to review: 673 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 160 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 75 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 92 (including this one)

"You Can Call Me Al" is a nice earworm, but I've always thought this album is a bit overrated. I can understand the intent which made Paul Simon try to infuse "global' sounds into his songs. The problem for me is just that the end result is plagued by usual 80s mainstream production shenanigans. The latter don't even have some sort of "retro" charm today. It's just a cheesefest hiding whatever merits some of the tunes may have. When you compare *Graceland* to the sixties output of Simon with Garfunkel, the difference is telling. Simon and Garfunkel were style AND substance. To me, *Graceland* is all about style mostly (at least production-wise). I'll give it a 3/5 grade, though. Once a year or so, I try to listen to so-called "important" albums I didn't really like at first to see if my taste has evolved. *Graceland* is one of them. Peter Gabriel's *So* is another. Very rarely, I can change my mind, and honestly, I hope I can do the same for those records one day (hence my middling grade, giving them the benefit of the doubt). Interestingly, both Simon and Gabriels have used so-called "world" music to try to renew their sound. The thing is, I can't help feeling they mostly use those influences as a gimmick to cover for their meandering songwriting. There was a very opportunistic mindset in mainstream music during the eighties. To me, here's another example of it... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

This is the one eighties record where The Cure maybe went a little too far in the gloom 'n' doom, freakish goth ambiences, sucking out any breathable air out of this collection of mournful songs--"air" both in the sense of "room to breathe" and "memorable or hummable melody". Then again, *Pornography* is the favorite record of a significant subset of fans for *these exact same reasons*. And as such, and given how important The Cure is in the history of popular music, it is still one of the five or six essential LPs the band has released in the first decade of their career. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

The 1001 albums app made a mistake: the album's title should here read: "Selected Ambient Works *Volume II*". That's the one that's a keeper, even if the first volume is quite an interesting release in itself for all fans of EDM/IDM (especially because of its three highlights "Xtal", "Tha" and "Heliosphan"). So, yes, *85-92* is fine. But out of the two volumes, the second one fares better as an integral and complete artistic statement. In fact, its dark and mesmerizing experimental sounds haven't aged a day. That's where you recognize a true masterpiece in the electronic genre. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selected_Ambient_Works_Volume_II Number of albums left to review: 670 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 161 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 76 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 93

Listening to *Figure 8* again, I can't quite shake the feeling that this is the least striking album Elliott Smith has ever released. Thank goodness, Dimery has also included *Either / Or* in his list. Here, at least, no one can accuse him to have missed or forgotten the best album by an artist. But when it comes to the question of Smith's *second best* album, the self-titled debut and *X.O.* have far better credentials than his last record, to be honest. Hence why the inclusion of that *other* record in here puzzles me a little... Of course, we're still talking about Ellioot Smith here. The man still had that special touch for sensitive and effective songwriting in quite a few parts of this LP. In fact, the main issue one can have with *Figure 8* is its arrangements and instrumentation. They go a little too far from the minimalistic production of Smith's earlier output, which was a perfect home for his fragile and graceful songs. Here, useless layering is instead stifling the natural charm those new tunes could have had had they been recorded differently. Less is more, especially with Elliott. This is how his precious craft shines the best. And boy did it shine brightly for a short while... No one can blame Smith for wanting his sound to evolve, though. In a better world than ours, *Figure 8* would thus be a transitional record helping Smith achieve greatness later on--this could have occured on a subsequent LP displaying a new sound that would ideally balance sophistication and more straightforward intents. Sadly, we'll never listen to this album now... Rest in peace, Elliott. Music history would have been a tiny bit more interesting than it is if you had stuck around just a little longer. But thanks for all those gems you still managed to leave us in such a short time. A lot of folks still cherish them, you know. As the cherish your memory... Number of albums left to review: 669 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 161 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 78 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 92

"Everything I love about the Eagles but with way more substance" says another review. Maybe... but with far less striking melodies and less catchy tunes as well. I have to be honest with myself here: if those middle-of-the-road country sounds are what people call "substance", it means I'm not interested in the latter then (sarcasm). The comparison made in that review is a little ludicrous in my honest opinion. I'm not a *huge* Eagles fan, but there's probably a reason their songs stayed in people's heads. And it seems to me the ones of Gram Parsons are not up to that level. Sure, you can find genuine melodic inspiration in cuts such as "Dark End Of The Street" or "Hot Burrito #2", but there's not nearly enough of it to make this album worth my time. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 668 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 161 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 78 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 93 (including this one)

Nice. Ahead of its time sonically speaking, with a few catchy hooks and a lot of interesting moodpieces. Besides, I can't help feeling *One World* fares slightly better than *Solid Air* today. Oddly enough, it's songs from that latter record that have the largest number of streams on Spotify--they are indeed very nice cuts, but as far as whole albums go, *Solid Air* still sounds like a patchy affair to my (limited?) ears. Conversely, *One World* offers something that's both adventurous and cohesive in terms of sound and songwriting. I did a quick search online to see if I could buy this album. It seems it is extremely hard to find today, and this in any format. Bummer. Chances are that I'll be less inclined to revisit it if I don't own a physical copy of it. Still, I'm including it in my list of essential records. This is where this app is pretty useful. It can help you single out albums that deserve to be a little more popular than they already are. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

I own this record at home. It's nice power pop, yet I've always wondered what made it so "essential" for some other fans of the genre than me. Some of the songs are catchy for sure. The thing is, they're also a little innocuous, and even a bit ridiculous from time to time. Ric Ocasek went on to produce the first Weezer album. Funny how the two first LPs of the latter band took that whole power pop formula to the next level. In comparison, *The Cars* sounds a little tame today. That said, it's still a milestone in that style, just like the first Big Star album is. In that sense, it deserves to be on this list. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

One of the most striking debut albums of all time. REM here assert themselves with a fully fledged vision of what their "college rock" was already able to accomplish in the early eighties. Peter Buck's guitars jangle, Mike Mills and Bill Berry's rhythm section hop along, and Michael Stipe's vocals often reach sublime heights only him could reach. Mitch Easter and Don Dixon's production is pristine, with a lot a very special touches (a tibetan bell here, a melancholic cello there, a vintage saloon piano elsewhere...), but those special touches still manage to preserve a natural live feel to the recording, giving it its timeless atmosphere. There are so many highlights on *Murmur*: iconic opener "Radio Free Europe"; entranced "Pilgrimage": mystical "Talk About The Passion"--both lively and romantic--; that bouncing "Moral Kiosk" leading the way to the stellar ballad that "Perfect Circle" is--whose title perfectly encapsulates the haunting effect this dreamy tune can have on you. Opening side two, "Catapult" sends you to the sky with its straightforward hooks. A few tracks later, "9-9" channels Gang of Four's percussive use of guitars to create a cut that can even remind you of today's American post-punk acts... And so on... You'd be hard-pressed to find a 1983 release that has aged as well as this one (Violent Femmes' eponymous debut, maybe?). Under the light, one can easily forgive the few slightly less effective songs in this LP ("Sitting Still", "Shaking Through" and "We Walk"), here scattered on a second side that still ends on a triumphant high note with "West of The Fields". But even if some songs on the second part of *Murmur* are somewhat less catchy, there is absolutely no bum note in this LP. No wonder REM's idiosyncratic sound, somewhere between post-punk and folk music, became so influential during the eighties. With such a great headstart, it would have been very unfair if listeners looking for heartfelt and authetic songwriting had not taken the bait. REM later wrote other highlights that can be found in many of their great releases of the eighties and early nineties. But *Murmur* is the one album where their music sounds the most effortless and spontaneous. It has that special charm only perfect or near-perfect debuts can have. No hesitation: at least 4.5 stars for me, here rounded up to a perfect grade. Number of albums left to review: 666 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 163 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 78 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 93

Can't beat that review that says that this LP is "like the Rosetta Stone for MBV and Nirvana in some ways". Of course, Jay Mascis' voice is downright terrible at times (his singing got better in subsequent releases, fortunately). But the guitar work is just so fascinating and extreme, and both are part of that formula that pointed the way towards the spontaneity of "alternative" nineties as a welcome reaction to the all-too glossy aesthetics of eighties. And this, three years before said nineties even started. Besides, I feel that there are not too many albums from 1987 that truly deserve a 5-star grade for their artistic accomplishments. There are Sonic Youth's *Sister*, Depeche Mode' *Music For The Masses*, Prince's *Sign 'O The Times* or The Cure's *Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me*. Therefore, I'm happy to add *Your Living All Over Me* to that short list. Number of albums left to review: 664 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 164 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 78 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 93

Funny how everything related to rap music went so *fast* between 1988 and 1993. When this record came out in 1991, there was something in Ice-T's brand of west coast gangta rap that still sounded fresh and somewhat exciting. Now, decades after the release of *O.G. Original Gangster*, it seems the latter aged a lot less well than other hip hop releases from that specific period. And this compared to either west coast or east coast rap--two sides of that late eighties/early nineties hip hop coin that actually equally inspired the producers of this record if you're paying close attention to it. Admittedly, and even at the time, everyone with half a brain could already smirk at some of the clichés sprinkled on many tracks here. Yet, to be perfectly fair, there were also enough drive, energy and highlights in this album to make it worthwhile to listen to. Those highlights--the title track, "Mind Over Matter", "New Jack Hustler", along with the confessional-yet-acerbic "Lifestyles Of The Rich And Infamous", or closer "The Tower", with its striking depictions of prison life and its *Halloween* theme sample...--still hold their own today, either musically or lyrically. So in a sense, it's still nice to see that Dimery's team didn't forget Ice-T and his contributions to the rap world. And it's nice to see they still had room left for him. Unfortunately, everything else in *O.G. Original Gangster* is at least a notch or two under the level of those five highlights. So, even for ears attuned to old school hip hop sounds, the discrepancy between the hits and the misses--between highlights and obvious fillers--might be a little too large here. Ice-T is sure an interesting figure that deserves respect--someone whose persona and lyrical craft could do wonders at time, and someone who could open doors that needed to be opened. See his whole rap-metal crossover side-project *Body Count*, whose origins can be pinpointed in *this* record, in the track bearing that same name--unfortunately a quite awkward cut, especially compared to the more fully-realized songs this project would soon release in their debut LP. And see also his knack for straightforward storytelling--one that could paint quite vivid pictures about gangland life--either real or imaginary. The thing is, was Ice-T as "essential" for rap as Public Enemy, NWA, A Tribe Called Quest, Dr. Dré, Snoop Dogg, Wu Tang Clan or Outkast were? Was his impact as important? Were his skills as impressive? The jury's still out on this one. Of course, Ice-T would probably retort that said jury can suck his d... all the same, no matter what they decide on his case. You can't change a leopard his spots. And when you're Ice-T, you don't need podiums anyway. Anyone who says "f*ck the Grammys" knows what he's *really* here for anyway. And maybe that is all that matters if you decide to be that sort of artist... Number of albums left to review: 663 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 164 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 79 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 93

I remember being invited by a girl named Elise in her parents' house in the middle of the woods one night, along with a bunch of other teenage friends. Her parents were away, and the only tangible memory I have of that evening was that we played that record many, many times. The night outside was pitch-dark. Some of our friends stayed in the living room with us. Others disappeared God knows where. I was young, and this was the first time I was listening to Depeche Mode's *Violator* from start to end. But it certainly wasn't the last... No review of mine can properly describe how downright incredible this album is for me. Martin Gore's inspired chord successions, always surprising you at a pitch-perfect moment... Dave Gahan's haunting vocal performance infusing much needed soul into the synthpop proceedings... Fletcher and Wilder's intricate clockwork-like arrangements, filled with rich, evocative soundscapes, almost cinematic in their scope... So many details to fall in love with. This here is the apex of Depeche Mode's discography--pop music to dwarf all other *serious* attempts at it (either then or now), with a dark, twisted undercurrent to make this album a perfect gem. A gem made out of obsidian, as some other review seems to imply here... 'Obsidian'. What an apt word for this record, really. *Violator* proves that under the right set of circumstances, darkness can shine as bright as sunrays through clear glass. So many catchy and illuminating melodies indeed roam throughout this LP. But those melodies are nothing like the usual synthpop routinely spewed forth by other small fry in this overall genre. Because, as catchy as they are, some of those melodies are also heavy with a muted sense of danger. And others subtly suggest a deep, melancholic mood that can leave you speechless. The band also had such a large palette to play with. Blues, r'n'b and rock undertones here clash with glacial timbres and digital sounds that are both as cold as steel--a contrast that brings dynamics rarely explored within the realm of popular music. Of course, here, in this list of songs, are also some of the most famous hits Depeche Mode will always be remembered for (the romantic-yet-lively "Enjoy The Silence" or the quintessentially bluesy "Personal Jesus"...). And the fact that those hits also display lyrics that are iconic all by themselves is just cream on the cake at this point. To be fair, most of the other tracks in *Violator* would have deserved being hit singles in their own right as well, giving a "best of" feel to this LP. As for the couple of cuts that weren't exactly single material ("Halo" and "Blue Dress"), they still have something meaningful to add to the rest of those stellar songs--either because of their nightly mood or the way they echo with the other tracks. Speaking of echoes, I'm currently listening to "Waiting For The Night". A few years ago, I wrote the blueprint of an imaginary sci-fi TV series about young telepaths living in the future. In my mind, this song here was the soundtrack played during the closing titles of that series' first 'season finale', right after a suspenseful cliffhanger. There is indeed both mysterious and breathtaking about this song. Just as there's something equally mysterious and breathtaking about the whole album. In that sense, it makes sense that such music could be used for dark adventures involving youngsters. Waiting for a TV series that would bring this sort of idea to fruition now... I'll probably never write the complete version of that story I had in mind. But the song is still available for me if I want to daydream about it. And all the other cuts from this amazing record can suggest similar visions for me. Visions of a house lost in the woods. Visions of grey mountains and black oceans. Visions of a dancefloor populated by misfits and other drug-addled freaks. Visions of neon signs flickering in the rain. Visions of life and death. I'll never get tired of those visions. And since "words are very unneccessary" to embrace them or fully convey my love for them, I'm going to stop talking now. 5 stars, nothing else. Good luck for the next album that pops up through this app. Number of albums left to review: 662 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 165 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 79 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 93

Seminal, influential, thrilling through and through... A post-punk stone-cold classic, which hasn't aged a day when you take a quick look at the indie musical landscape these days. On that note, I found the review that said that this record reminded its author of Parquet Courts a little cute, to be honest. Without Gang Of Four, there wouldn't be any Parquet Courts to speak of. That said, I wanna thank this reviewer for dropping that name, just as I want to double down on those reviews mentioning acts such as Shame and Squid. Starting from the mid-naughts, Dimery's list is totally out of touch when it comes to rock, post-punk or indie sounds. Glad to see that a few reviewers in here at least know where the good stuff is these days... Apart form that, I don't have anything original to add to all the other reviews praising *Entertainment*. Jon King's politically charged lyrics, with wry situationist overtones? Check. Andy Gill's "angular" guitar playing? Check (funny how one reviewer let on that some clichés like this one are sometimes unavoidable to describe iconic bands such as GOF). Dave Allen and Hugo bouncing and surgically precise rhythm section? Check. What I found a little strange in some of those reviews is the number of people giving high praise to this record and yet only giving it a 4/5 grade. C'mon, guys, you gotta try a little harder than that. This here is an incredibly important album, and it's also one where the devil lies in all the little details, in spite of the instant catchiness of many songs in it. It's that sort of idiosyncratic peculiarity which gives *Entertainment* a potentially infinite replay value. 5 stars for me, then. Number of albums left to review: 661 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 166 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 79 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 93

A quite enjoyable jazz album, or so it seems. I haven't fully explored it, but given how uselessly "selective" Dimery and co. are for that overall genre, I'm placing it as a potential candidate for my own list. Hope to revisit this record soon... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here... Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

The sort of elevator music that's only bearable if you're going from one floor to the next. Yes, Baker is a very competent singer, blah blah blah. Yes this album received Grammy awards, blah, blah, blah. So what? Machine Gun Kelly had one last year if my memory serves. But at least the bloated piece of crap he dares call "music" can be, well, *fun to hate*. In comparison, Anita Baker's songs are boring, bland and even more formulaic than what this moron does. Sometimes the worst crime there is is not to have bad taste: it's to have no taste at all. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

There are parts of this double album where one track nicely flows into the next ("When Did You Stop Loving Me" - "Anger" - "Is That Enough" on the first side. Or, on the last one, "A Funky Space Reincarnation", "You Can Leave, But It's Going To Cost You" and "Falling In Love Again"). "Time To Get It Together" is an enticing, quite groovy cut as well. Unfortunately, everything else sounds like aimless filler to me. I get that huge fans of Marvin Gaye can feel moved by his somewhat vulnerable vocal performance, here inspired by the painful subject matter driving this whole project along. But frankly, those other songs definitely sound subpar compared to Gaye's more striking songs in his repertoire. To put it in a nutshell, here is a blatant case of a double LP that would have been far more convincing if its performer/musician had stuck to a single disc instead. And I don't think such missed opportunities can be considered as "essential". Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

I guess the best-selling salsa album of all time should find its place in such a list, although I admit I know absolutely nothing about this genre. That said, I can still say two things about *Siembra*: first, you don't need to know the history of Salsa very well to appreciate its lush arrangements and instrumentation ; and then, there are many moments in this record where Blades and Colón aptly use other influences, if only for a few seconds ("Plastico"'s disco intro, the nod to *West Side Story* in "Pedro Navaja", that insane Ennio Morricone-like drop in "María Lionza", or the music-hall strings in the title track). All in all, it was a quite leasant first listen. Plus, even though I'm not fluent in Spanish, I feel like the songs are also telling interesting stories. So I hope I have time to revisit this record later on to delve deeper on that other subject and learn what those storie are all about... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

I bought this album a few weeks ago. It's funny because for years, I avoided Captain Beefheart like the plague, just because of the hoax/scam/swindle that Trout Mask Replica is (at least to my ears). I think I'm an open-minded person, but there's a limit to the sort of musical nonsense one should be exposed to. And affecting some sort of conceptual pretension to justify the barrage of sheer crap that this other record is is NOT an acceptable solution for me. I'd rather plug my ears with toilet paper, thank you. In other words, Thelonious Monk, my ass (to refer to a stupid comparison I've often read to describe Beefheart's hoax here). Trout Mask Replica is just an interesting footnote in the pages of music history, not an essential album you must absolutely listen to. I'll fight tooth and nail anyone who says the contrary. Even a genius like David Lynch (who once said he loves this record). The thing is, it was a stupid mistake on my part to start my exploration of Beefheart's repertoire with this particular album. As it turns out, I really like what Beefheart and his "magic band" did before TMR (*Safe As Milk*) and after it (*The Spotlight Kid*). The grassroots yet twisted tunes of *Safe As Milk*, especially, have something quite addictive to them. Beefheart's growl on this collection of blues songs serves them right--as in opener "Sure 'Nuff 'N Yes I Do"--just as said growl nicely contrasts with the stellar musicianship of the band (including a young Ry Cooder, or so I hear). I also enjoy the stylistic asides this record go through, especially the more psychedelic cuts or that mock doo wop soul ballad that "I'm Glad" is. And my oh my! "Electricity". What an incredible track! Here is the sort of experimentation that can be both haunting and mesmerizing. I know David Lynch has been listening to this song as well (there's a literal quote of Von Vliet's delivery of the song's chorus in the Twin Peaks movie, for instance). And here I certainly won't contend with man's genius. This song and its incredible instrumentation is the cherry on the cake here. And its inclusion in *Safe As Milk* finally reconciled me with anything Beefheart. Except Trout Mask Replica, of course. Maybe with more *real* groove and a theremin, as in "Electricity", I would have liked that other album. Too bad Von Vliet never thought of that. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Oh, I remember when this project took over the "indie" airwaves. The hits seem to be a little too easy on the ear for truly "indie" stuff, to be honest, but I guess that duo knew how to write great pop songs, there's no doubt about that. And the rest of the neo-psychedelic tunes on this record are pretty good too, so I guess I can't give MGMT anything less than four stars for such a successful debut album, either commercially or artistically speaking. Checking on the Wikipedia notes for this record, I learned that the first versions of "Time To Pretend" and "Kids" were actually released in their first EP in 2005. Listening to the latter on Spotify, it's quite interesting to see how MGMT then polished their sound to make it more palatable and "radio-friendly". That EP sounded almost lo-fi in its production, which tells you a lot of the long process those two youngster went through to finally achieve success. Not that lo-fi is necessarily a bad thing. "Kids"' original bridge before the final chorus (or middle-four, I never know how to call those things) is also very different, far more adventurous harmonically and melodically speaking than the simple four-on-the-floor, linear section displayed in the more famous second version. I think i prefer the original recording now... Oh, by the way, I also need to point out that MGMT's second LP, *Congratulations*, actually sounds even more memorable to my ears than their debut album. Check it out if you like convoluted sorts of earworms, as I do sometimes. It's more sophisticated than *Oracular Spectacular*, but it's also more playful, lively and impulsive somehow. I could actually give 5 stars to this other record without any hesitation. Everything MGMT did after those first two LPs sounded far less striking or valuable to me. But I guess *two* contenders for being part of limited list of essential albums of all time is not so bad for two kids mostly seen as one-string-of-hits-wonders when they started to get famous. I mean, there are not many musicians who can boast of reaching that very high level, are they? Number of albums left to review: 661 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 169 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 80 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 95

How can someone like Nellee Hooper produce wonders such as Massive Attack's *Blue Lines* or Björk's *Post* and then have the same role for such a bland record? Beats me. Obviously this album has not aged well at all, minus one or two... well, "moments"--like the acappella version of "Back To Life", for instance, far more elegant than the single version. Plus, that male singer's vocals are jarring, especially compared to the women on the record, "technically" flawless, and saving those "Club Classics Vol, One" from a minimum grade To put it in a nutshell, it's a very, very MIXED bag. I don't think I've heard of "Club Classics *Vol. TWO*". Probably good news for all of us. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

I remember when big beat sounds from Britain were hip. The singles, "Right Here Right Now", "The Rockafeller Skank", "Gangster Tripping" and "Praise You" are still cool tracks, even if they obviously sound dated now. Unfortunately, the rest is far less pleasant, often too linear, and even borderline obnoxious in some spots--not *every* repetitive vocal samples out there can work to great effects--even shrewd opportunistic foxes such as Moby or the Chemical Brothers, who used those too, know that (which is why they often shifted gear and went to other places as well if needed). Of course there's a way to compare Fat Boy Slim with those latter artists I've just mentioned to make it work in his favor. One can consider he offered a crazier, tastier meal than them somehow. But he was also much more of a one-trick pony than those other artists were. Besides, you also need to take into account the fact that there's that huge discrepancy between highlights and fillers within his debut album--the sort of awkward discrepancy that makes "You've Come A Long Way, Baby" a somewhat awkward candidate for a list of essential albums imho. Number of albums left to review: 659 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 169 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 81 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

I'm not denying the historical importance of this LP. Ray Charles' vocal performance is here technically spotless, and it's nice to witness him pillage the "country and western" repertoire to give it his own African-American spin in it. This albums is a little like an inverted image of what Elvis and his producers had done a few years before, when they appropriated a large chunk of African-American culture and sounds. And if only for that, it should be remembered today. The thing is, I'm still really NOT convinced the end result is for everyone, especially so many decades later. Maybe it's my own tastes influencing me too much (I can't really get rid of them, can I?), bur bar a few exceptions here and there, sugar-coated orchestral strings set to such a fully Disneyfied mode always remind me of what comes out of PA systems in lunatic asylums to calm the crazies. Quite an uneasy experience, to be honest, never intended by this record's production team. Likewise, those Big Band shenanigans for the supposedly livelier cuts quickly bore me to death. It's as if they lost all of their impact with everything that came after 1962. So if I'm being fully candid here, the "emotions" this record provide for me feel like an EEG flatline. In other words, it's not for me. Had "Hit The Road Jack" or other Ray Charles signature songs been included to such a project, maybe I would have woken up a little. But here, maybe it's better to let me sleep until the next LP that will pop up tomorrow. Good night! Number of albums left to review: 658 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 169 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 82 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

A historical record for the "French Touch", and for electronic music in general. Less flashy and impressive than their subsequent album, "Discovery", but probably more endearing and/or fascinating. Four stars. Number of albums left to review: 658 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 170 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 82 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

Not as impressive as *Juju* but still a historically important and seminal record in the post-punk genre (and one of the earliest of its kind). No one on Earth can sing like Siouxsie, with her instantly recognizable haunting voice. As for the instrumentation, Steve Severin's bouncing basslines bring a breath of fresh air to the claustrophobic mood of those tunes, and John McKay literally invented a playing style--if there was a patent for "angular" guitar lines, he should be its rightful owner. "Jigsaw Feeling" and "Mirage", along with the atmospheric and mysterious "Switch" are landmarks of the genre. And if it's too bad the band didn't include their all-time classic "Hong Kong Garden" in the original album tracklisting (a non-album single), I'm pretty sure most CD copies available out there now include it as a bonus track. So 4.5 stars, rounded up to 5. A couple of songs are indeed a little difficult for non-fans of the genre, but given how ridiculously *low* the overall score of this seminal album is, I can't give it any less than that. Number of albums left to review: 657 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 171 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 82 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

I was aware of this record before, but I had not taken the necessary amount of time to delve into it. That stretch of songs between "Friday Night" to "Pacific Ocean Blues' is just perfect.  It's arresting in the way Gene Clark's *No Other* is. So many evocative moods, sweeping through a vast array of styles. And the bonus CD displaying the unfortunately aborted sessions for "Banbu" has gems too. 4 stars. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

One of the greatest hip hop albums of all time. From the first subdued seconds of "Excursions", with its iconic basslines, to the blast of "Scenario", here's a record that ages like fine wine--the sort of jazzy rap album that even foretells Kendrick Lamar's forays into similar subgenres decades after the fact. Other reviews in here just perfectly encapsulated how essential this album is. Just to give you one example, "(We've got) Jazz" is proof that this record looks into the past while being of its time, and yet can still be considered timeless. And almost each track from this masterpiece shows those sorts of assets. As I'm writing this short assessment on my phone, a friend of mine just looked over my shoulder and said: "Oh this is *The Low End Theory*, by A Tribe Called Quest, right?". It just took him two seconds to recognize the cover. This is how iconic this album is for a whole generation (and hopefully, for many others to come). Number of albums left to review: 655 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 173 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 82 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

Revisiting this record was a treat. I remember feeling a bit confused by its length and overall concept at the time of its release, along with the sprawling details of its orchestration. Turns out *Illinois* aged like fine wine, actually, and that what's most important in it are the heartbreaking melodies and sheer poetry of the lyrics. Not that the concept behind this album is not aptly conveyed as well if you pay a little attention. What struck me the most in that regard is the influence of Steve Reich and Philip Glass over many arrangements here, and how fitting such influences are when you want to write an elegy about American popular culture. Yet, I repeat, the album doesn't only work in "intellectual" ways. In spite of their lush arrangements, many songs in this record actually foretell the pure emotions of the pared-down masterpiece *Carrie And Lowell* (released 10 years after this one). And without such emotions, this sort of grand project would be pointless. If you delve into Stevens' discography, it's quite obvious that he is not always consistent in the way he channels his instincts and incredible skills as a musician and a songwriter. But the two LPs we're talking about here are essential for sure. And it's not the opinion of Bon Jovi fans (such as the one responsible for the "review" currently heading the responses to *Illinois*) that will convince anyone they're not. Once again, this is not a matter of "low-brow" or "high-brow" tastes (that sort of dichotomy is broadly the only point that this Sufjan Stevens hater is expressing in that review of his--and honestly, it's a little misleading.). What matters the most is discerning what good songwriting is. There's a lot of good straightforward songwriting in albums that are supposedly "low-brow", of course. But that doesn't objectively mean you can't find any similar straightforward qualities in works that are far more complex or intricate at first glance. And *Illinois* is a perfect illustration for this sort of situation. Number of albums left to review: 654 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 174 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 82 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

Am I including this historical album filled with iconic cuts in my own list, as flawed as said album is sometimes? *Shall* I include it, in spite of a guitar wall of sound that didn't age that well, and a couple of annoying fillers in its tracklisitiing? Definitely Maybe. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 700, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one, most probably) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

A milestone for post-punk, with an adventurous spirit that goes way beyond the punk/"new wave" template of those times. The song topics, the melodies, the arrangements... Everything is terrific here. Some parts of those tunes are a little off-kilter, of course, but that's unavailable when you go wild like that. And most of them are instantly memorable anyway, as weird as they are. If only for "Shot By Both Sides" and its soaring guitar hook or "Definitive Gaze" and its bizarre synth line, along with "Motorcade" and the epic anthem "The Light Pours Out Of Me", this record deserves to be on this list. A quick aside: some key Radiohead members have repeatedly stated how this band had been a pivotal one for their musical upbringing. And if you delve a little into certain details, you can quickly understand why... *Magazine* was one of the very first productions by John Leckie, by the way. Yep, the same guy who would aptly produce *The Bends* later. It's always fun to point out connections between the albums in this list, is it not? Number of albums left to review: 652 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 175 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 83 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

Guess it's the most popular album in Santana's discocgraphy, and it's probably one of his most important releases as well. It's got insanely famous cuts: "Black Magic Woman" (a cover), "Oye Como Va" (another cover) and "Samba Pa Ti" (a... Carlos Santana original here!!! Phew, for a second I thought what made this album what it is was only... covers). That latter track sort of sounds like a rough draft for later "Europa" at times, by the way... Hmm... Given that all those three cuts, *plus* Europa, are in most of the band's compilations available out there in 2023, maybe a "best of" makes a little more sense if you want buy Santana music today... Well, OK, this album also has a nice seventies rock cut written by the band's then singer ("Hope You're Feeling Better"), unfortunately absent in most compilations... So, maybe for this one song as well, I could include *Abraxas* on my list... The thing is, the rest of this record is nice jammin', but I can't help feeling such jamming is easily interchageable from one Santana LP to the next. Maybe experts will tell me I'm dead wrong here. In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: 651 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 175 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

A perfect record from the nineties. And one that aged extremely well, thanks to Smith's stellar songwriting, not to mention barebones production choices that were both unobtrusive and graceful, especially for the times. By the way, if you enjoyed this album, you must also listen to Elliott Smith's eponymous LP, it's basically a sibling to this one. And *XO* and *Figure 8* also had their moments too, that's true. But none can beat *Either/Or* when the time comes to play the perfect soundtrack for urban melancholy. Didn't I use the word *perfect* before for this review? What, only twice? Rest in peace, Elliott. Music history would have been a tiny bit more interesting than it is if you had stuck around just a little longer. Thank you for all those gems you still managed to leave us in such a short time, though. A lot of folks still cherish them, you know... Number of albums left to review: 650 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 176 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

This one won't get many 5/5 reviews, obviously. Which is a bit of a shame. *Cut* is a very *weird* record, especially compared to what "normies", for lack of a better word, usually expect from music. But it's exactly where its many charms lie, at least once you manage to let go of said expectations. The only serious issue I have with The Slits' music is that it's very hard to describe to newcomers. Said music is actually brilliantly written and performed--with many borrowings from reggae dub that allow the band to implement arrangements that are precise, intricate and fully original (hence the choice of a reggae producer for this one). If you don't pay attention you may dismiss the end result of that encounter between punk and dub as sheer nonsense (this is definitely not "background music" we're dealing with here). But if you *do* pay attention, most of those tracks' instumentations are pretty rewarding on subsequent listens. Likewise, Ari Up's vocals will probably sound too "out there" during your first encounter with those songs. You may even consider she's off-key most of the time. But that might only be some sort of myopic effect: Ari is actually not really "off-key", she's just extremely theatrical, expressive, "hysterical", you name it... And this is just a perfect way for her to fully inhabit her subversive and sardonic lyrics (won't go through the details here, it's pretty much what you would expect from a witty feminist punk, making those lyrics as relevant today as they were in 1979). Oh, and some of the backing vocals, sometimes popping out in surprising places, are quite impressive as well. A fun anecdote, by the way: a very young Neneh Cherry is among those background vocalists. Of course, not every "cut" (ahem) works perfectly in this record. "Adventures Close To Home" sounds a little too linear and far-fetched, and therefore tried my patience a little. Likewise, "Love And Romance" is still too indebted to the early punk beginnings of the band to fully mutate into a convincing art-rock/dub/experimental tune, just like most of the other tracks manage to do in this record... Yet those missteps do not outweigh the many successful moments in *Cut*. There is a stretch of songs in this album that is absolutely fantastic, the one starting with the hilarious "Shoplifting" , and then going on to "FM" and, finally, "Newtown", a pretty evocative description of urban idleness, "where everybody goes around sniffing televisina or taking footballina". The dub rhythm on that track, helped by the addition of extremely subtle organ and piano touches, is simply infectious. And of course, later on, you have two perfect gems, underground hits in their own right: first "Typical Girls", a feminist anthem for the ages, and the deliriously groovy cover of "I Heard It Through The Grapevine" (a version that's radically different from the cover Creedence Clearwater Revival once did, and yet that can be considered as its perfect match). I know that this cover was only released as a single originally. But damn it, the original album was not that long in the first place anyway, so you might as well consider it's part of it now. To put it in a nutshell, this is definitely not a record for everyone here, hence why I'll be reasonable and refrain from giving it a perfect score. But it fully deserves to be on this list, if only for its groundbreaking nature and the influence the Slits had on countless acts later on. Besides, you still have blokes (mostly blokes, right?) considering Beefheart's *Trout Mask Replica* as a masterpiece. Well, *Trout Mask Replica*'s "historical" importance is not to be denied, sure. But compared to other famously "off-kilter" albums such as *Cut*, it's just a sinister experience. At least The Slits are fun to listen to, while having something relevant to say. And *Trout Mask Replica* is neither of those things. Which is why The Slits' debut album will here get a far higher mark than Captain Beefheart's supposed "masterpiece". It won't help a lot for its overall score, but what are you gonna do? 🤷‍♂️ Number of albums left to review: 649 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 177 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 96

I'm all for girls rock band sounding fresh, even naïve at times. It's a nice change of pace compared to the usual rock male circus. That said, and exactly like I expect this for bands only having guys in their ranks, I need a minimum of, well... *substance* in an album--either lyrically or melodically. And if not, at least I want something that's intense, even if only a little. Or something genuinely fun and/or thrilling. Alas, apart from a couple of tracks like "This Town", *Beauty And The Beat* is none of those things. Every time you think a song is gonna reach a certain level of genuine excitement, it actually lets you down. Some of those songs sound like a subpar version of REM, without the stellar arrangements or the romantic choruses. Others, like "The Beat", clearly foretell Bikini Kill/Kathleen Hannah's riot grrrrrl odyssey (The Go-Go's were clearly an inspiration for her). But without a healthy amount of true punk rock in the proceedings, *Beauty And The Beat* mostly sounds cheesy and shallow now--like a cheesier version of Blondie, if you will. Hannah would probably disagree here, but hell, where's the true energy in all this? Make no mistake, the record is competently played and produced, and it has a few nice guitar licks (as in "Skidmarks On My Heart" or "Can't Stop The World"). But most of the *songs* are oh-so boring... There's been many essential albums made by girl rock bands since the eighties--bands such as The Breeders, Bikini Kill, Elastica, L7, Sleater-Kinney, Wet Leg, Porridge Radio... Unfortunately, most of them are overlooked in Dimery's list. And this is not the inclusion of this old and clearly dated LP that's gonna make up for such blatant mistakes here... Number of albums left to review: 648 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 177 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 97 (including this one)

The sort of of elevator music that's less annoying and obnoxious that many other examples of this, well, "umbrella genre" in Dimery's list. I can readily admit that the songs are very competently performed, and that their production is fortunately not too extravagant--that it's "neuter" enough to age well, at least. Of course, the downside of that situation is that said production has no "taste' at all: Weller's band sound like a lounge act in many places--nice if you want to dine and wine in a fancy restaurant during your holidays on the seaside, but no "essential material" at all. Reminds me of Arctic Monkeys's recent forays into the same sort of unobtrusive lounge music somehow. Yawn. As for the songs per se (and their melodies), let's just be honest for one second here, they're a borefest as well, are they not? I would have given this record a 2/5 mark for "competency", initially, but the recent ditherings and rants of Paul Weller against Robert Smith and The Cure instantly lower that grade to a 1/5. Yep, The Jam had had some impact on music history a decade before *Wild Wood*, even though it's a tad bit overrated now... Yet Weller quickly going so far up his own *ss right after the band's heyday is evidence enough that his discography will never be celebrated the way the *many* records of The Cure still are today. He's just a bitter old sod. So, f*ck him. Number of albums left to review: 647 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 177 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 98 including this one)

Now here's an interesting story. Ute Lemper, a German singer and actress known for her performances of Kurt Weill's "avant-garde" compositions, suddenly decided she could also perform something that would be more akin to "indie-pop", and called The Divine Comedy's Neil Hannon to help her reach that goal. It's the sort of story that could be used for a nice indie film about a "fish-out-the-water" main character, with a lot of endearing little scenes and situations... No erase that: obviously with a title such as *Punishing Kiss*, and knowing Lemper's usual trade, you may expect a result that would feel closer to a "film noir" than a comedy, with many dark or even "out-there" moments. But on the page, that's a proposition that sounds worthwhile, at least. So let's take a seat in the "1001 albums" theater, and watch how the whole flick pans out... The first two tracks, "Little Water Song" and "The Case Continues", are great, with impressive orchestral instrumentation backing Ute Lemper's theatrical voice as intensely as for ones written for a James Bond theme song (a comparison often made in the reviews here, even though said comparison doesn't fit with the rest of this *long* album--more on that later). It's also fascinating that you can *instantly* recognize those two songs were respectively written by Nick Cave and Neil Hannon. Lemper does awesome work here, effortlessly turning each of those unmistakable writers/performers' inflexions and stylistic traits into her own. And the songs per se are thrilling, as you can expect from those two insanely talented songwriters. Two impressive scenes at the very start of the film, then. Unfortunately, most of the other ones quickly disrupt our suspension of disbelief. And without it, how can we be "transported" by an album, then, just as a good film does? To put it in a nutshell, *Punishing Kiss*'s main fault is going into an overkill mode that soon turns out to be, well... quite *punishing* in the first sense of the word for the average listener. And this in one way or another. Sometimes the fault lies in Ute's "forced" performance--fitting for a Kurt Weill/Bertolt Brecht number like those she usually specializes in, but sounding pretty awkward for more "regular" pop songs such as the other ones Hannon contributed for this record (along with other tracks penned by Cave, Tom Waits, and Elvis Costello). And even the single Brecht/Weill cut performed in here sounds overbaked and awkward, actually--which means there might be ways to be a little more subtle for those type of avant-garde cabaret songs to convey what's great about them nonetheless--as "difficult" as they are. This here is a minor complaint, however. If the rest of the songs had been properly thought out in their execution, I wouldn't blame a Brecht/Weill number to predictably go "over the top"... Other times, the blame lies in the choice of songs and arrangements (some of whose didn't age that well, especially for those late-nineties rhythm patterns). Such choices turn the whole tracklisting into a sort of hodge-podge, to be honest. Tom Waits is a fine songwriter, but I'm not sure Lemper translates his songs that well here, contrary to what she does with those Cave and Hannon cuts heading the first side of the LP. It's as if Ute and Tom's respective theatrical antics do not match, surprisingly enough... And well, when it comes to Elvis Costello's contributions--and just as for mostly everything the British "rocker" has written starting in the middle eighties--his songs are predictably too meandering and chatty for their own good to seal the deal. The witty lyrics pile on, the rhythm patterns go through unexpected changes, Lemper sings them as "expertly" as she can... And yet one can't help thinking a lot of energy is here spent for quite pointless ends--with Lemper unwittingly adding a layer to Costello's usual information overload, an extra layer that might elicit yawns on most listeners' part. Overkill often leads to "ultimately boring", after all. Especially when there is *not one* striking melody to speak of in the songs you're playing. A third cut from the LP still makes a strong impression, however: Philip Glass's composition "Streets Of Berlin" (and it's a very rarely recorded one, if I'm not mistaken). The typically repetitive Glass strings only turn up at the end of the tune, but they do create an impressive finale for this one. Unfortunately, the LP also suffers from a lack of self-editing that drowns those potential good moments into a whole indeterminate ocean devoid of any real stakes. And putting a late-career 10-minute Scott Walker composition at the very end of the album doesn't help at all. Make no mistake, that composition *is* impressive for listeners with a knack for off-kilter and/or moody experimentation. And it's unrelentless in its darkness. But after so many pointless tracks, it merely sounds like an über-pretentious afterthought to add "substance" to the whole thing. Ironically, as "avant-garde" or "original" as *Punishing Kiss" tries to be at times, its main flaw is thus more akin to the ones seen in Hollywood blockbuter movies than those displayed in independent films. The cast is impressive (Lemper, Hannon, Cave, Waits, Costello, Glass, Walker...), and a vast array of equally impressive logistical means have been used for the project (many musicians, a full orchestra behind them...), along with a lot of ambitious thoughts to fuel said project beforehand. And yet, the end result sounds way too "calculated", and devoid of meaningful dynamics and energy. Worse, it could even look a little cynical and opportunistic at times--not a "money-grab" exactly, but something without any clear "artistic vision" behind it. So much for our initial expectations then. What could have turned into a "kiss of death", promised during the first two tracks of this record, thus merely ends up sounding like a tease with no genuine intentions behind it. But maybe that's the sort of expectation we should have dismissed from the get-go here. Sometimes, in "film noir", the "femme fatale" is just a lost babe in the woods, after all. Number of albums left to review: 646 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 177 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 99 (including this one)

I've just given a 1/5 grade to that Paul Weller solo album on the list. So what can I do now? Go *negative*? Can I revise my gradings? I know they're very different beasts, but assigning the same grade to Def Leppard and The Style Council is pretty unfair to Def Leppard, I believe. Which tells you a lot about The Style Council. To be clear, I don't give a damn about Weller and his pals' "musicianship". Side 1 of *Cafe Bleu* is just derivative muzak--anyone trying to say the contrary is in full denial mode, period. Worse, anyone denying this *in here* is actually insulting the very concept of "essential" music. As for side 2, it is... well, I can't even begin to describe what side 2 is. The best lead I have is with the back-to-back tracks "A Gospel" and "Strength Of Your Nature", since they best exemplify what's dead wrong with the whole LP. They're the lowest point in a record made out of a series of low points. In that sense, those tracks are so bad that they unwittingly become endearing at times. They deserve a full paragraph devoted to them. Let's start with "A Gospel", probably one of the most embarrassing attempt at rapping I have ever heard from a white boy. "Awkward" is not a word strong enough to convey how f*cking dumb its lyrics are : "Ghetto's, gateaux, and eating it too." Seriously Paul? And, please, please, don't you guys give me an excuse such as "well, all rap made in 1984, or around that year, has aged poorly". Have you ever listened to Afrika Bambataa? As for "Strength Of Your Nature", I won't say much about the true nature of this synth-blue-eyed-soul number with far less class, impact and meaningful energy than what Eurythmics was doing at the time. Except that it sounds like shit, obviously. Conversely, and as I've just suggested before, you could argue that bad taste is still taste somehow. The thing with those two tracks I've just mentioned is that you can remember them at least. Everything else is indeed so bland, so instantly forgettable, that I won't even bother going through the motions here. Oh, there's only one notable exception, the only bearable track on the whole LP: it's a jazz instrumental named "Dropping Bombs On The Whitehouse"--a cut that could fool you for being the real thing from the sixties. But ironically, this gives me the opportunity to vent my anger at Dimery and co. this time. How many *important* jazz LPs were sacrificed to make room for The Style Council, Robert? How freaking many? Jesus H. Christ... In case you haven't heard... Decades after the release of *Cafe Bleu*, Paul Weller now pretends his career and discography are better than the ones of The Cure. Sure Paul, sure. Just don't forget your morning pills, and everything's gonna be alright... How ironic to mouth off Robert Smith given that even a relative letdown in The Cure's discography such as *The Top* (also out in 1984) is still ten times better and more adventurous than this album here was. You see Paul, you're an excellent musician, I'm not denying this. But when you're a good musician, browsing through "styles" without applying any personal touch, or using your imagination to make those styles truly your own, is NOT adventurous. It's just being lazy. Turns out "The Style Council" is aptly named as a band. They're all style, no susbstance. Plus, Paul Weller is a moron. And I guess that certainly can't help us be nice now, can it? Number of albums left to review: 645 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 177 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 100 (including this one)

I had so many good memories about this one. But I listened to it again to make sure. And apart for one or two weaker tracks on side two, it's a keeper. I imagine that for a few younger ears out there, some of the sounds or lyrics could feel dated. But, as far as I'm concerned, revisiting this "alternative" hip hop gem *decades later* (jeeze, I'm *old*) brought back most of what I originally loved about it. I haven't lost track of what is going on in the genre now, so I know this LP sounds as if it came from another century (actually it does). But sometimes old means aging like a fine wine. And when it's the case in hip hop, it's particularly endearing. Some people here have pointed out that the "positivity" of certain lyrics could pass off as "corny" at times. I don't know... I've heard far worse lyrical content in rap albums before. Plus the topicality of most of these songs hasn't aged a day, and I feel like Speech's attitude and words about those issues still sound "fresh" and sincere enough to help me turn a blind eye to a couple of potential minor flaws here and there. And whatever the case may be with the lyrics, the music is fantastic most of the time. Vocal parts often soar into soulful singing and hooks are as catchy as you can hope them to be. And most of the tracks are great anyway. "Tennessee"'s groove is infectious, of course, but so are the ones of "Mama's Always on Stage", " Fishing For Religion", "Give A Man A Fish", or (obviously) that nice cover version of Sly Stone's "Every People" (without Arrested Development, I would have discovered the Family Stone far later than I actually did, I'm not ashamed to say it). Oh, and there are also a few mellower cuts that I actually really like as well ("Raining Revolution" or closer "Washed Away") For a while (mostly during the naughts), I felt like hip hop as a whole genre got lost in uninteresting turfs of land--ones that were as far away from *3 Years...* as they could possibly be. Early 21st century gangsta rap brought us a couple of masterpieces, but also many ridiculous records everybody has forgotten about now, fortunately. That said, the situation of rap and hip hop is better today: you have all sorts of subgenres going from trap to old-school boom bap thriving, and in each genre, you have good stuff to find out. I feel that in that sort of musical landscape, a vintage album such as this one, exploring *other* ways to develop a rap vocabulary, has its place. "Objectively", this record is probably a 4/5. But given the sort of mindset it can offer younger generations these days, I'm gonna push for a 5. Arrested Development deserves to become a sort of legacy act for rap fans trying to think out of the usual boxes. That's how we've had the best hip hop albums lately. And that's how we're gonna have other ones in the future. Number of albums left to review: 644 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 178 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 100

Side one is pitch-perfect, and side two is still very good, even though I had high hopes Q-Tip would preserve the momentum until the end, (which is not exactly what happened here). Overall, *The Renaissance* doesn't exactly have that insanely *high* level of quality the first three A Tribe Called Quest albums had. But it's still often brilliant and groovy. I should have listened to that one earlier. Thanks to this app, I just did. 4,5/5, rounded up to 5 here. Because this thing deserves to have a higher overall score. And also, I'm pushing for the maximum grade because I'm sick and tired of weirdoes in here who go to the bottom of the reviews, where the 1/5 assessments are, so as to select unoriginal ones, going "It looks OK for fans of the genre, but I don't like rap" (a perfectly valid opinion per se), and then "like" those short uninteresting assessments so as to put them in the forefront of the review section. Tell me you have a problem with rap merely *existing* without telling me you have a problem with rap existing. Jeeze, I wonder why you can't see that happening with other genres like country or rock, huh? 🤔 Number of albums left to review: 643 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 179 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 100

Here's Gray talking about that breakthrough album of his... "When I started out, a man with a guitar baring his soul wasn't in vogue at all. Suddenly, it's everywhere! [The album's] success came from nowhere, and it changed how the business thought about what music should be. Since then, there have been lots of artists who've taken it on and done their own thing." Er... Elliott Smith, anyone? Like, he had gone to a breakthrough of his own a couple of years earlier, and even playing during the oscar ceremony, right? And if not him, maybe countless other singer-songwriters from the sixties to the nineties, some of them famous, others less so, but all of them still managing to sound anything but vanilla when they're indeed "baring their souls". There's a NME review which perfectly encapsulates my feelings here. It was written at the time of *White Ladder*'s re-release through a bigger label, following its commercial success: " 'This Years Love' is Beverley Craven on a testosterone drip; the dilute dance rhythms of 'Please Forgive Me' and 'Babylon' offer a hand-knitted, festival-stall melancholy, while the title track might be Fleetwood Mac if they'd gone into organic farming. Think of the American singer-songwriter reinvention however, and 'White Ladder' seems as quaint as a wireless set." Boom. Oh, a fun anecdote now, taken out of a Guardian article. Well, "fun" isn't the best term for music used as a torture device in compounds such as Guantanamo, but you'll soon get what I mean here: ' Gray's music became associated with the torture debate after Haj Ali, the hooded man in the notorious Abu Ghraib photographs, told of being stripped, handcuffed and forced to listen to a looped sample of Babylon, at a volume so high he feared that his head would burst. "It's an issue that no one in the music industry wants to deal with," says David Gray, one of the few artists willing to speak about the subject. "It's shocking that there isn't more of an outcry. I'd gladly sign up to a petition that says don't use my music, but it seems to be missing the point a bit." "The moral niceties of whether they're using my song or not are totally irrelevant," says Gray. "We are thinking below the level of the people we're supposed to oppose, and it goes against our entire history and everything we claim to represent. It's disgusting, really. Anything that draws attention to the scale of the horror and how low we've sunk is a good thing." The singer wonders whether governments who use music as a torture technique without asking permission from the artists involved could face legal action. "In order to play something publicly, you have to have legal permission and you have to apply for that. I wonder if the US government bothered, but I very much doubt it. Perhaps you could sue, but let's face it, they're outside the law on the whole thing anyway." ' Well, given that Gray was almost the only artist unwittingly involved in those despicuous and inhumane actions willing to discuss the issue and somehow protest about the whole thing, I'll give him an extra point in my review. He's a decent, perceptive and articulate person, there's no doubt about that. Under that light, maybe I'll be able to spot reedeeming details about his music later on. We're all subjective beings, after all. That said, and to indeed return to the music itself, my personal opinion is that *White Ladder* is anything but "essential". The chord progressions are mostly bland and predictable, the vocal melodies are as well, and Gray's voice is often grating--with a performance that's either undercooked or overcooked (it depends on his inflexions). Oh, and the chill-out-type club arrangements for the rythmic patterns have aged quite horribly, very often diverting to what these songs really are or really should sound like. Folktronica can sound good. But not in here. Of course, I imagine those cheesy arrangements made Gray's songs likely candidates for ads soundtracks or "wedding dances" at the time, helping him reach commercial success. But even with that in mind it's hard to conceptualize how one out of four Irish households ended up having a copy of this record. Are Irish folks that permeable to snorefests? I didn't think so. It's also funny how recent *positive* articles about this LP actually tip-toe their way around the fact that their author actually *know* the whole thing is embarrassing to a degree. Take this piece from Pitchfork, written by a reviewer who inexplicably gave a 7.9 grade to it: ' “Please Forgive Me” was also included in the pilot of Scrubs, more indicative than its club cameos of the album’s future in meet-cute media. Half of its 10 songs were released as singles, so White Ladder clearly worked as a collection of episodes that could be experienced discretely and repeatedly. There’s no linguistic subtext to any song on White Ladder: Recall that Gray’s sincerity and plainspokenness are his main selling points, but the lack of specificity leaves space for emotional interpretation. (...) It all ends with an unfathomably sad, nine-minute cover of Soft Cell’s “Say Hello, Wave Goodbye” that interpolates Van Morrison’s “Madame George” and “Into the Mystic.” (...) *White Ladder* might not exist without Dave Matthews; Gray promoted the album while opening for Matthews, a close friend and a notable influence on White Ladder’s more grating vocal tics—on the title track, when Gray wheezes, “There’s no rhyme or reeeeeason,” a John Popper harmonica solo wouldn’t be entirely unexpected. (...) While *White Ladder* was virtually inescapable in public spaces during the early 2000s, its influence has dissipated in the time since, though it is audible in the crystalline, cosmic folk of Amen Dunes’ 2018 album Freedom. Gray himself suggested that he had paved the way for folk-pop idols like Ed Sheeran and James Blunt." OK. Amen Dunes' *Freedom*, Ed Sheeran, James Blunt... That's why I don't like this album. Makes sense. Number of albums left to review: 643 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 179 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 101 (including this one)

Given how many nice reviews in here perfectly encapsulate what I think (and like) about this album, I'm gonna do something else and rank David Bowie's best albums from his legendary discography (leaving the less impressive ones and a couple of clunkers aside). Ranking albums has always been a bit obsessive-compulsive, but it's another way to express your subjectivity. Which I think is pretty fitting here: with an idol such as Bowie, being obsessed and subjective almost feels like a tribute to the amazing artist and personality that he was... So here's the ranking. Needless to say, the vast majority of the first ten albums are all 5 stars to me, including *Aladdin Sane*: 1. Ziggy Stardust And the Spiders From Mars 2. Hunky Dory 3. Low 4. Station To Station 5. Blackstar 6. The Man Who Sold The World 7. Aladdin Sane 8. 1. Outside 9. "Heroes" 10. David Bowie (Space Oddity) 11. Diamond Dogs 12. Earthling 13, Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) 14. Let's Dance 15. Young Americans 16. Lodger Number of albums left to review: 642 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 180 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 101

Well, I'm no expert about Fela but I did know this album already, and it is nothing short of transcendent. Such an infectious energy here. I felt a nonplussed by that one review complaining about the "call-and-response" at the end of the title-track. Well, that's part of that infectious energy I was just talking about, is it not? "Zombie" seemed like a good place to start exploring Fela Kuti's discography. It's now high time I digged further. Thanks to all the reviewers who left suggestions about other albums here. Number of albums left to review: 641 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 181 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 101

Heralded as a "world music classic", *Call Of The Valley* is actually so obscure for Western pedestrian audiences that even the folks responsible for this app got confused. The links they put up here indeed point to different recordings. The Spotify link is a "modern" reenactment with all sorts of new age shenanigans going on in the background. And the You Tube version is the 1967 original version played on vinyl, complete with charming crackling sounds. As for Ravi Shankar, I'd say that my ears are not trained enough to properly "judge" this sort of (admittedly influential) work. It would still do as nice background music if I suddenly had the strange idea to perfume my home with patchouli and incense, I imagine. But to be honest, I would feel a tad bit hypocritical if I raved and ranted about this album. No matter how many so-called "objective" rankings and podiums you can establish out there, listening to music is still a subjective affair after all. And cultural "blind spots" play their parts there, too, obviously... Number of albums left to review: 640 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 181 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 102 (including this one)

I can see why some listeners could relate a couple of those tracks to the way Talking Heads used some funk or afrobeat influences on their own records around the same time, but I don't think Orange Juice hit the mark the way the 'Heads did. It's not bad, instrumentation-wise. But maybe the songs, hooks and choruses are still a little too lackluster to seal the deal. And, consequently, the end result comes off as cheesy, instead of arty. Besides, you need a lead singer with charisma and idiosyncratic skills to make it work. And whoever this lead singer is on such and such song, he is not exactly David Byrne. There are a lot of commonalities, with an emphasis on overaffected tricks. But Collins (and Ross) lack(s) the spark of genius and sheer craziness Byrne had. Number of albums left to review: 639 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 181 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 103 (including this one)

What, *another* cover of "I Heard It Through The Grapevine", after Creedence Clearwater Revival and The Slits??? And this without even counting Marvin Gaye's classic version ("In The Groove", the LP it's taken from, being excluded from Dimery's list, if I remember correctly). Well... This version is *alright*, I imagine, especially when the drum patterns suddenly stop and go (as in the great title track opening this Temptations LP right before "...Grapevine"). The thing is, as nice as this particular cover is, it's certainly less impressive than the three other versions listed here. So it's not worth the price of admission on its own. We need to look further here... What's left, then? Well, the centerpiece is definitely "Runaway Child, Running Wild", an incredible nine-minute example of what "psychedelic soul" should sound like. Lush instrumentation, epic build-up, soulful dirges... We're not in "Papa Was A Rolling Stone"-territory yet (this song is far less catchy), but we're certainly heading there. And this stuff is also worthy of Sly And The Family Stone, except that it's softer around the edges, and a little more seductive somehow... Those three songs (the title track, " I Heard It Through the Grapevine" and "Runaway Child, Running Wild") are half of the album, and I can understand why that first part of the record felt like a milestone at the time, especially when you realize where the band was coming from (this sort of thing couldn't be further apart from "My Girl"). Yet as interesting as that first side of the LP is, I have doubts that the second one can be listed as *essential* stuff. There we have more by-the-numbers ballads, which gives the feeling that we are dealing with yet another "transitional" album from The Temptations... The problem is that I'm a little confused about which album from that technically stellar vocal group should be considered as "transitional" and which should heralded as mainstays or "essential" ones--at least as far as I know about them (I'm certainly no expert, and they have a sprawling discography). My gut feeling tells me that The Temptations will always sound like a hodge-podge thing to me. They sing songs written by others (legendary Motown songwriting teams, covers of all sorts...). Their "identity" is flexible according to the times and current fashion, exemplified by key tracks that don't always fit with other tunes on their albums. And as far as LPs go, their propositions are a little daunting, not to say "messy", as expertly played, sung and produced as those albums are... I can't remember if I included *All Directions* in my group of potential candidates for my own 1001 list ("All Directions": what an apt title for a Temptations LP, by the way). I've listened to it again, and maybe it deserves to be included in my "ideal" list, and not only because of *Papa Was A Rolling Stone" and "I Ain't Got Nothin'". That said, I'm afraid I won't include more than *one* Temptations record This act made great tracks all along their lengthy and complex career. But I think they (or their producers) didn't have an identity and/or an artistic vision strong enough to make all their influences gather into a cohesive, meaningful whole. So, in that overall genre, I'd rather stick to Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, Sly And The Family Stone, etc. Sorry, Temptations fans... Number of albums left to review: 638 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 181 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 84 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 104 (including this one)

Of course, "Just A Gigolo". If only for this first track, *The Wildest* deserves at least a passing mention. The rest, made out of other jazz swing / "jump blues" cuts, make for nice background music. Funny how "Jump, Jive An' Wail" and "You Rascal You" are so energetic thay almost sound like early rock'n'roll. And it's nice to hear a far older version of "You Rascal You", by the way (my favorite is still the one performed by Serge Gainbourg, but it's at least interesting to discover other ones). Oh, I almost forgot: Keely Smith has a great voice. Which takes nothing away from Louis Prima's impressive performance, both on lead vocals and trumpet. Now will I include *The Wildest* in my list? Well, it's hard to say. That LP is culturally relevant, I'm not arguing about that. But its overall style is definitely quaint. Everyone will have a different mileage on such *old* albums today. Besides, and I've said it many times before, Dimery's list is quite unfair when it comes to jazz, leaving aside many other key LPs in that genre. And it's a mistake I don't want to make with my own list. Hence why I won't *directly* include *The Wildest* in my own list, so as to leave room for other albums by Charles Mingus, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Art Blakey, Horace Silver or Max Roach... Number of albums left to review: 637 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 181 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 104

An interesting listen. Laura Nyro had a very peculiar voice, which had its rough charm at the start of the album, reminding me of a Polly Jean Harvey that would play show tunes and rhythm'n'blues instead of indie rock (her sort of indie rock was admittedly infused with a lot of blues as well, at least on her first albums--but PJ Harvey fans probably understand what I mean here). That being said, this comparison doesn't *fully* do justice to Nyro's one-of-a-kind performance--drawing on a lot of the expected "techniques" heard at the time, and yet using them in her own idiosyncratic way. The thing is, the end result can get a little tiring the more you advance into *Eli And The Thirteenth Confession*: That constant vibrato thing sounds as if it's out of control: once you start noticing it, you can't help hearing it everywhere. And, good lord, Laura was so... *chatty*. It's not as if I wanted her to shut up... but maybe her vocal lines should be lower in the overall mix, at least. Is it wrong for me to say so? Am I disturbed by a "chatty" female performer because I am a man who can be bothered with the (many) words of a woman? I'll let you be the judge of that. To my defense, I don't have this problem with Janis Joplin, also very demonstrative and "chatty". To me, the problem with Laura Nyro as a performer does not lie with the "intent" but with the execution. There's a very fine line between "impressive" and "overkill". And *Eli And The Thirteenth Confession* straddles it constantly. Likewise, Nyro's songwriting and arrangements aptly mirror that recurrent "overkill" mode felt in her vocal performance. Time signatures and tempi constantly change and morph and switch. Sometimes it's as if those changes are gratuitously demonstrative--as if Nyro desperately felt like she had something to prove. She was obviously talented enough to create memorable songs without resorting to those demonstrative shenanigans. And yet she couldn't help doing it. Or maybe, just maybe, her songwriting "instincts" do not sit well with my own tastes when it comes to sophisticated and off-kilter structures and arrangements. To each their own, I imagine... In spite of my rather harsh assessment up there, I want to single out three tracks that work perfectly well for me: "Poverty Train" has a terrific introduction, very ahead of its day and age, and the rest of the song doesn't disappoint. "Eli's Coming" is a striking cut, proving that if Nyro stuck to a simple idea (for most of the song, at least), she could actually be more impressive than when she went through different modes and styles in the space of a single track. And "The Confession" is an admirable, heartfelt closer. The only problem is that the rest of this record quickly gives me a headache. I'm happy I discovered it through this app. But I can't "feel" this as an "essential" album. It's more like an interesting curio for me. Sorry, Laura Nyro fans... Number of albums left to review: 636 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 181 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 105 (including this one)

A seminal and historical album, which is pivotal to understand why young brits drawn to blues and electric guitar saw Clapton as "God". That said, Clapton's conservatism and orthodoxy is more a flaw than an asset here (and this without even mentioning how his "conservatism" later extended to extra-musical concerns). Not long before this record was released, The Yardbirds decided to embrace psychedelic "progress", something that Clapton couldn't stand, hence why he left them to join Mayall's band. And it seems to me that music history proved him wrong, for the most part. So, decades later, *Bluesbreaker* is still a nice listen, I imagine. But it doesn't have the intensity or power of The Yardbirds around the same time (plus Jeff Beck's solo output a couple of years later). *Bluesbreakers*'s reliance on guitar prowess and blues' formatted writing misses a key aspect that can help create a truly great albums: penning memorable melodies and tunes. *Bluesbreakers* is good, don't get me wrong. But whether its songs are covers or originals, they always use the same three damn chords, which is tiring in ways original American blues wasn't, even if the latter was using the exact same formula, ironically. Maybe this paradox can be explained by the fact that you can "feel" the British musicians' "copycatting" the original thing here--the sound and instrumentation are pretty neat, maybe even a little too clean and predictable. And on its own, technical prowess can't make up for those heavily standardized proceedings. You need *something else*--something direly lacking in this album. It's a lesson Clapton would learn later on with Cream and Derek And The Dominos, when he will finally write stuff to get out of such a stylistic dead-end. But that's a story for another time, I guess... I'm tempted to leave a 4/5 grade for "historical importance", but my gut feeling tells me a 3 would be more sincere. If you're reading those lines now, you already know what my final choice was. Number of albums left to review: 635 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 182 (for " historical importance", mostly). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 105

I need to revisit, but I think the overwhelming consensus about this one is that it's the weakest release from CCR's incredible streak of albums during the tail end of the sixties. And from what I can remember about the LP, I fully concur with the masses here. *Bayou Country* was the record that started that streak, and as such, is a harbinger of the great things to come. And of course, "Proud Mary" and "Born On The Bayou" are instant classics. But then, there's the rest, still sounding like a middle-of-the-road blues/rock revival for modern ears, without much interesting input into it. So if we're talking about essential *albums*, this one should probably not make the cut. Update after a closer listen: nope, my overall judgment doesn't change a bit. The vast majority of those seven tracks heavily rely on a single chord, including "Born On the Bayou", actually. So I would lie if I said that I find a lot of those tracks exciting (apart from "Proud Mary", once again). "Bootleg" could have been better if that small bridge after the second chorus had been repeated and expanded, "Graveyard Train" is a bit of snorefest, and if the Little Richard cover that follows is kinda fun, it's too derivative to seal the deal at the end the first side. As for the second side, it still sounds like a rough draft of what Creedence Clearwater Revival would later be appreciated for (and there are no memorable ballads--part of CCR's appeal today). I get that the live version of "Keep On Chooglin'" must have been fun at the end of a gig, but as far as the album version goes, it's still a little too predictable and by-the-numbers to transcend its humble origins. One can wonder if the real appeal of the song is that no one really knows what "chooglin'" means. A little bit of mystery never hurts, I guess... Of course, in most of the songs performed in this album there's still a nice interplay between the lead guitar and John Fogerty's vocals, and the latter are obviously soulful and impressive from start to finish. But you can still enjoy Fogerty's great voice on much more thrilling cuts taken out of subsequent LPs. So with that in mind, I'm keeping some room for *Cosmo's Factory* and maybe even *Green River* and *Willie And The Poor Boys*. You can't be too cautious when you only have a list of 1001 albums... Number of albums left to review: 634 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 182 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 106 (including this one)

Elevator music it's OK to like, and this even if you're going from the ground floor to the top of a skyscraper. But elevator music nonetheless! Don't get me wrong, Röyksopp are talented beatmakers and composers, and they're sometimes quirky enough to be interesting, at least once in a while. Yet the overall "feeling" I have from listening to *Melody A.M.* is that it's a little too bland and/or unobtrusive to elicit a strong response from me. In a close genre, an act like Boards Of Canada makes a far stronger impression. They're more poetic, more conceptual, more evocative, more off-kilter, more surprising... Eeerier and weirder, in a good way. That's how they hit the mark. And Röyksopp are definitely not up to that level. Now let me use this review to point something out when it comes to the general philosophy of my personal "grading" here: 95% of the artists and bands that managed to be included in Dimery's book actually deserve to be noticed--whatever your tastes are, and whatever your personal feelings about their music is. Making it to this list proves you're not an "average" musician. It shows that you did a good thing for you and others when you chose a career in music. And that you were right to persevere. So in that sense, you probably need to add 5 points to the grades given in here. It's not because you didn't make an essential album most people "should" listen to that you're a bad musician. Take Röyksopp, for instance. I'm giving them a 2/5 grade. But "objectively", given the amount of work, skills and imagination they put into this record, they probably deserve a 7/10 grade (2 + 5 for being talented artists nonetheless). It's just that for the purpose of this list of "essential" records, you can't do such benevolent gradings--otherwise the end picture would be quite unclear, even confusing. And I feel like most people using this app have the same philosophy, whether they consciously realize it or not. You have no choice but to be quite severe. That said, there are two or three exceptions to this rule of thumb. Examples: those horrid turds pooped by Limp Bizkit and Kid Rock, inexplicably listed in this app. To be clear: those turds can't deserve more than a 3/10 mark. Personally, I would even give them a 1/5. Being "subjective" is OK, and trying to be "objective" is fine as well. But then there's just common sense. And when you combine being an absolute moron with an obvious lack of talent, and add the bad taste factor to the equation, all that you deserve is contempt. Hope fans of those two acts are offended, because they need to wake the f*ck up. I can be nice and tolerant, but there's a limit to the sheer amount of idiocy I can put up with. About Röyksopp's *Melody A.M.*: Number of albums left to review: 633 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 182 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 107 (including this one)

OK, schmaltzy Bee Gees, long before they went insanely successful with disco and *Saturday Night Fever*. I gotta admit that parts of this record, along with other moments from *Odessa*, were a little less annoying than what I expected them to be. Look further into those two LPs and you may even find a couple of tracks that are actually quite good. The thing is, those good tracks can't save you from the utter debacle that many other songs on those albums are. To go to specifics as related to *Trafalgar*, I'm not sure what the lyrical point of *Israël* is, but that tune sure has a nice melody in it. Likewise, *I Don't Wanna Live Inside Myself* reminds me a little of what Grandaddy's Jason Little can pull off when he wants to write a heartfelt ballad for the ages about lonely, melancholic souls. Which is quite encouraging. Oh by the way, let me just digress for a second here, and use this occasion to remind everybody how unfair it is that no Grandaddy album made it to this list. You'd just need to replace the pre-disco Bee Gees with their albums, and *voilà*: the list would instantly "feel" a little better than what it currently is. And the thing is, folks, Grandaddy also knew how to *rock* once in a while, which is another reason to include them. Conversely, The Bee Gees clearly didn't, especially in *Trafalgar*. That 1971 album even has less variety than *Odessa*. Literally *all* the songs are sentimental ballads, and you quickly risk going through a sugar overdose--and mess with your levels of insulin--as you inflict such grotesque and laughable displaying of sentimentality to yourself for so long. And then, one shouldn't forget all the syrupy string arrangements suggesting the PA system of a lunatic asylum. Not to mention the ridiculously performative vocals going to all the wrong over-the-top places in most of these tunes. Evidently, those lame vocal parts are the crux of the issue here. Each and every one of the three Gibb brothers are culprits, of course, but none is as guilty as f*cking Robin, especially noticeable on side two. Yes, that's it, that's where the real crime is. Literally every time Robin Gibb opens his mouth, overindulging in that constant annoying vibrato routine, it feels like nails on a chalkboard. Except that those nails belong to Vishnu. Or to an octopus. Or even to a centipede, given the end result. To be perfectly honest, I just want to strangle someone when I hear that voice. Or, if I can be civil and contain my murderous impulses, I want to plead the man responsible for it to just leave me the f*ck alone. Please. Oh, please. Robin, I'll do whatever you want me to. Just... Don't sing, OK? Please. So thanks, 1001 albums. Now, by the grace of your application, I know exactly why I *can't* include any Bee Gees albums in my list (*Saturday Night Fever* being officially a "various artists" soundtrack). And it's because of Robin Gibb. Well, for the most part, at least. I didn't know I needed that sort of information before I die. Well, to be perfectly honest, I'm still not sure today that I *did* need such info before. But here we go, I guess. To conclude, I also noted that only five reviewers in this group gave a 5/5 grade to *Trafalgar*. I'm not the sort of reviewer to say "The People have spoken". The majority is *not* always right. But let me make an exception here. Because my mind still needs some sense of justice and closure after the Robin Gibb abuse it's been exposed to, and this in spite of a few reedeeming moments found elsewhere in this album (helping *Trafalgar* reach a miraculous 2/5 grade). So... Well... The People have spoken. Right? Number of albums left to review: 632 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 182 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 108 (including this one)

I can understand how pivotal that record is for the Stones' career (and for British rock in general). But even with that in mind, you won't see me include an album mostly made out of covers in my own list (except for Nina Simone--but Nina's artistry, knack for stellar arrangements, and vital performance easily explain this rare exception here). These are the Rolling Stones albums I *will* include in my list: Aftermath Beggars Banquet Let It Bleed Sticky Fingers Exile On Main Street I think that with those five albums, I pay enough attention to such a legendary band. So let's give some room to other artists, shall we? Number of albums left to review or just listen to: less than 650, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Elevator music that's only bearable if you're going from one floor to the next. In other words, everything that's dead wrong about the eighties in one album. And the tunes are not even memorable (apart from "Karma Chameleon"). Which might be a good thing, come to think of it, because they fortunately don't get stuck in your head for hours, at least. I have a lot of sympathy and respect for Boy George's character, by the way. He's not always had an easy life, and I can only praise him for reaching the sort of success he reached at a time when prejudice was still everywhere. But I don't care at all for the artist that he is, or for that band he was part in. If really Culture Club wanted to reenact the schmaltzy vocabulary of the fifties and sixties in a more contemporary frame, the least they could do was to take a page from Eurythmics or Soft Cell--to mention somewhat close acts who had their faire share of the spotlight around 1983. Those acts knew how to make their mix of influences sound *vital*, at least in their great singles. In comparison, Culture Club's tunes sounds thin, stale, and hackneyed. Next! Please... Number of albums left to review: 631 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 182 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 109 (including this one)

Elavator music. A pretty intricate version of it, drawing from both jazz and disco. But elevator music nonetheless. A rhodes keyboard always sounds great, by the way, whatever you play on it. And given that the Crusaders are stellar musicians, their instruments are bound to sound good. I think that "My Lady" has been sampled in one of the hip hop albums I have, but I can't remember which. I need to do some research... Funny how the last track, "Night Faces", going back to the band's pure jazz roots from the sixties, sounds so good as well. As a matter of fact, that track has aged infinitely better than the mindless disco beats The Crusaders onverindulged in for the rest of the album. Disco can be fun, once in a while. But a whole album of it is often quite ridiculous. Especially if you don't dance to the latter. Because let's be a little honest for a second. Who would dance to this stuff *today*? I've written four paragraphs about this album, *Street Life* (five, now, counting this one). I think it's more than said album deserves if you're doing a list of 1001 "essential" ones. Next. Number of albums left to review: 630 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 182 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 110 (including this one)

ABBA are mostly known for their singles and the stellar songwriting, production, and arrangements that was displayed in them... Yet if there is only *one* album from the Swedish band you should own, this would be the one--along with the pitch perfect *Gold* compilation, that goes without saying. For starters, *Arrival*'s got three hits that you can also find in said compilation (*four* in its CD edition or Australian/New Zealand version: "Knowing Me, Knowing You", "Dancing Queen", "Money, Money, Money" and "Fernando"). That's already an amount of hits most bands would only dream of producing for one LP. But now you need to add the other stellar cuts in it, which actually sound as good as the more famous tunes from the band--cuts such as the opener "When I Kissed The Teacher", or "Dum Dum Diddle" or the exhilarated and exhilarating "Tiger". And the instrumental title track closing the original proceedings is a short yet quite emotional apex for the whole thing. There are a couple of fillers here and there, but with eight or nine great tracks out of eleven, what you have here is still a very good album. Benny and Björn had so many great melodies in them, and Agnetha and Anni-Frid such powerful voices--it doesn't really matter if the lyrics are a little cheesy sometimes: as every fan of good pop music knows, such lyrics are part of their timeless charm. My overall feeling it that you just gotta pay ABBA at least *one* tribute in a list such as this one. And *Arrival* is the best candidate for this. Oh, speaking of ABBA albums: *The Visitors* is an interesting experiment in more mature songs, by the way, even though its melodic contents might not be striking enough for it to be included here. But I guess that's a story for another time, kiddies... Number of albums left to review: 629 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 183 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 110

It takes two to tango. Unfortunately, I can't say I'm *fully* receptive to this album, as brilliant as the performers are on this one. Maybe there are other records released by Piazzolla that deserve to be on this list. After all, the man once released *Libertango* (whose title track was later made famous by Grace Jones). So I think that exploring that artist's discography would be wise before deciding only a late-career live album should be the one quoted by us. In the meantime, four points for the performance in this (the global score is way too low given the obvious virtuosity and artistry that is actually displayed in *The New Tango*). But this record won't be in my own list (a rare exception for a four-star record). My philosophy is that barring one or two very specific LPs, live albums should be set apart from the rest anyway. 1001 sounds like a huge number, but it's actually very small if you want to include all the essential "studio ones" out there... Number of albums left to review: 628 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 183 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 111 (including this one)

Part elevator music, part a welcome exercise in *restraint* when it comes to eighties aesthetics, this record has aged miraculously well, all things considered. The title track opening the album has subtle instrumentation, "Heatwave" has interesting and addictive percussions, and "Stay" is a heartfelt cut. I also have the feeling Kate Bush most probably took a page out of "Tinseltown In the Rain" to create her legendary songs "Running Up That Hill" and "Cloudbursting", relelased in the next year (you certainly have common synth sounds and vocal ideas here and there). So does that mean I will include this album by the Blue Nile? Er... Nope, sorry. As interesting as this curio from the past is, the vocal parts are decidedly too whiny and/or bland in too many places, and most of the songs sound only half-formed to my ears. You'd need a few more "dynamic" tracks in that LP to give it the impetus it cruelly lacks as it is. Yet I'm feeling generous and will even give this one a 3/5 grade. Not enough to make it to my list. But that doesn't mean the thing is utterly bad either. Number of albums left to review: 627 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 183 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 112 (including this one)

More than *Cosmic Warrior*, this is the definitive T.Rex album. Or maybe they had two of them. You have a lot of talented tunesmiths in this list, but it takes someone named Marc to... hit the mark twice. Number of albums left to review: 626 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 183 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 112

John Lydon/Johnny Rotten has turned into a *massive* wanker these days (maybe he always was), but even this sad turn of events can't demean the very nature of this frankly exhilarating LP. *Never Mind The Bollocks...* is not only an amazing collection of biting, angry songs--emphasized by spot-on production values perfectly fitting its gritty-yet-catchy contents. It's also a pivotal record to understand the evolution of rock music in the last 45 years. Because, yep, the influence of this one goes way beyond its punk origins. As a result, what can you do but to give 5 stars to it? Number of albums left to review: 625 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 184 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 112

"Spare us the theatrics and the verbal gymnastics," goes one of Elvis Costello's characters on the second song from this album. Oh, the irony. Such wording is a nice way to say "shut up", that's for sure. But it's also I want to tell Costello when I listen to "Imperial Bedroom". Just... stop talking. The music is already meandering too much. We don't need the constant barrage of oblique ditherings on top of it. I've been pretty unfair to other records by Elvis Costello mentioned in this list, I know it now. But here, I think I'll stand by my early *negative* feeling. "Imperial Bedroom" is just too damn chatty and too cute for its own good. Yes, there are lush instrumentations and arrangements in many of those tunes. But as sophisticated as those arrangements are, you won't convince me they don't sound incredibly awkward when paired with Costello's whiny voice. The whole thing makes you think of an odd couple. Which brings another involuntary layer of irony here, given that 'odd couples' is the theme of some of these songs... To put it in a nutshell, this record sounds über-pretentious as a whole. At least, Costello's first three LPs had a few lively rockers to make the whole thing dynamic enough. Here, all that you got is... melodic and verbal gymnastics, with no frigging *end point* in sight. 2/5. Number of albums left to review: 624 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 184 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 113 (including this one)

Didn't understand the appeal of that album at the time. I found it little too predictable and "middle-of-the-road". But decades later, here I am revising my former harsh judgement, thanks to this app. I still think The Lemonheads were treading on old ground once covered by REM or Husker Dü with this album. But in 2023 such a minor flaw doesn't matter a lot. A lot of the songs are effective, and prove that Evan Dando's craft was respectable and even stellar at times, even if the production values vary from "anachronic charming" to "anachronic quaint" . By the way, the barebones acoustic versions of those tunes, put in the bonus tracks of the "collector's version", dont have those dated production issues I've just evoked. Here is where you can truly appreciate those songs for what they truly are, and I advise everyone curious about this album to listen to them as well. 4/5 Number of albums left to review: 624 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 185 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 113

This album should be *far more famous*. Released only two years after the punk explosion, it predicted everything from post-punk to goth and melodic hardcore punk--not to mention that later craze about killer clowns, lol ("These Hands"). But it's not the only reason *Machine Gun Etiquette* should be remembered today. Its melodies and energy are infectious, its instrumentation is far more sophisticated than it seems at first glance (the organ flourishes are particularly effective and original), and the tunes are catchy as fuck. So it's not so much how ahead of the curve this amazing LP was that makes it a great listen today. It's how damn good it is, period. Each song has something different to offer, even if the overall picture stays cohesive. *Machine Gun Etiquette" is a very *driven* record, to say the least: I tried to find a weak track in it but I couldn't. Hence why I give this one a 5. "Love Song" sounds like The Pogues on steroids, "I Just Can't Be Happy Today" is both weird and wonderful, and the long version of "Smash It Up" at the end of the album crowns everything like the definitive Damned statement that it is. And then, there are all the other cuts, some of them short and biting, others longer and mesmerizing. This record is a gem, enough said. Number of albums left to review: 623 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 186 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 113

As far as psychedelia-infused country folk go, this is a quite interesting curio from the past. The overall mood of *Triangle* recalls other stuff going from Donovan to the Incredible String Band (only in an American version that's pretty close to The Byrds' own psychedelic period). Opener "Are You Happy?" is also very Dylanesque, as other reviewers noticed here (even if some of them often forgot to point out that the rest of the album isn't). And closer "The Wolf Of Velvet Fortune" (a closer because I'm not really counting that Randy Newman cover that follows it) is just incredible: the song sounds like the sort of mystical experience that could only occur during the sixties, and its chorus is simply infectious and mesmerizing. Unfortunately, what's between those two highlights is not exactly up to that level. Some of the tunes are nice and evocative (such as "Only Dreaming Now", with its oneiric strings and quaint accordion, or that Merle Travis cover "Nine Pound Hammer", or the very Tolkienesque "Magic Hollow", not to mention the title track's epic conclusion). But there's also something a little awkward in the way those tunes pan out. The most probable culprits are the lead vocals, I believe--often reaching the same high note through a somewhat wearisome vibrato, especially on side one. I've used the word "quaint" before in this review, but I can't say it's a compliment now to describe that voice. Whoever that lead singer was, he wasn't Gene Clark, contrary to what some benevolent reviewers suggested in this group. Besides, the songs are often too short to leave a lasting impression in your mind--even if, quite ironically, I imagine some of those tunes might have outlasted their welcome if they had been longer... I was tempted to include this one into my list *potential* candidates at first. But after a few more listens, I've changed my mind. Still, I'm glad I discovered this record I knew absolutely nothing about (and especially "The Wolf Of Velvet Fortune"). As I said elsewhere, a 3/5 grade in here equals a 8/10 one in more general terms. It's just that 1001 is a finite number after all... Number of albums left to review: 622 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 186 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 85 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 114 (including this one)

When a mainstream pop artist (and former member of a cheesy boys band) takes a page out of the book of Britpop to sing his way to a more respected position. The thing is, the overall result is patchy, with some good moments in it and others that are, well, not so good. You can't be Oasis or Blur if it's not in your blood from the get-go. The two first tracks slap, I'm not gonna lie. Indeed, "Lazy Days" and "Life Through A Lens" display effective songwriting, epic melodic lines, and smart chord changes. After them, "Ego Agogo" is catchy, I guess, even if it's also a little annoying. The next track, "Angels", is a saccharine cut that left quite a huge impression in the UK (I know, I lived there for a while not too long after this record came out). And as far as reenactments of Elton John-styled ballads go, you could find far worse out there. So, the first four tracks are solid. Too bad that everything after soon peters out into indistinctive tunes following the same template of those early songs without having their strength. Oh, "Let Me Entertain You" is another catchy one for sure (that's another track that was huge in Britain at the time). But just like "Ego Agogo", it can turn into an annoying gimmicky showcase about William's mischievous public persona. Which means "all surface, no substance", a critique that can actually be addressed to the album itself. And I'd even say that listening to such a shallow record decades after its release mostly emphasizes this major flaw here. I hesitate between 2/5 and 3/5 here (2.5?). But even with this hesitation still in mind, you don't need a dozen photographers to get the picture, I guess... Number of albums left to review or just listen to: a little more than 600, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Just like Roxy Music on the other side of the pond, I never could understand the appeal of this band that also played synth-enhanced glam/glitter rock (at least originally). Maybe Spark's music was too eccentric and complex for me. I sort of doubt this, however: I usually *like* pop rock when it's eccentric and complex... So... That said, this here is the perfect occasion to discover what's so good in this band: the lyrics. Opener "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both Of Us" is a hilarious opener about a love story turning into a surreal western-like duel, "Amateur Hour" is one the funniest song about sex I've ever heard, with snarly oblique lyrics that get me every time: "It's a lot like playing the violin / You cannot start off to be Yehudi Menuhin / Amateur hour goes on and on / And when you turn pro you know / She tells you so" . Lively "Talent Is An Asset" is about Albert Einstein as a child, with a fun pun on "relative(s)" at some point. And "Up Here In Heaven"'s whole 'what if' concept is a riot (what if Juliet betrayed Romeo at the eleventh hour and chose *not* to die--wouldn't Romeo's heaven in the sky turn into hell?). Fittingly, there's also a *biting* aspect to the music that perfectly illustrates this tale of woe and ironic despair, and it makes this banger going haywire a keeper, both lyrically and musically. Finally, to give one last example of what's so fun in Sparks' lyrics, there's that line in "Hasta Mañana Monsieur": "You mentioned Kant and I was shocked / You know, where I come from / None of the girls have such foul tongues". 🤣 All of those tunes are obvious highlights, but there are other relevant tracks as well: take "Thank God It's Not Christmas" for instance. This one has nice melodies and an effective chorus. "Barbecutie" is pretty fun as well, with its loud bassline and heavy guitar riff on the chorus. And the next track, "Lost and Found" is a cool capper for the whole thing. Odd that those three tracks are rarely the ones that are singled out by fans of this album, at least as far as I can tell. As for the rest of the songs, I can't say that they're bad, but I first need to get more acquainted with the rest of Sparks' very *long* discography to decide if *Kimono My House* can truly become a favorite of mine (which will take a little bit of time). I'm a little wary of Dimery's list when it focuses on "commercial breakthrough" LPs. For the bands or artists that I know well, it often means that truly significant records are left aside, and since I'm only warming up to Sparks now, I don't want to miss something good in that long list of albums... Number of albums left to review: 620 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 186 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 86 (including this one, most probably) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 115

Even if I'm taking into account the runtimes of albums during the fifties and sixties, a 22-minute record sounds more like an E.P. to me. Plus, this is a live album, and I get the odd feeling that the writers of this list used it to sneak in a "best of" of sorts. Jerry Lee Lewis was an important figure in rock'n'roll, obviously, but for me, he was not an "album artist". Finally, this record came out in 1964, when Lewis was soon about to made irrelevant anyway. So I don't even need to point out the sort of deranged creep that he was to "cancel" him from my own list. I've got enough *other* reasons to do so. Still giving this record a 3/5 grade, though. As far as *essential* albums go, this one can't make the cut. But the performance in it sure was crazy as hell, I'm not denying anything about that. Number of albums left to review: 619 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 186 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 86 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 116 (including this one)

Puzzling how Dimery's list singled out an album whose title was borrowed from a jazz masterpiece by another artist without including said masterpiece in the selection. Add to this the fact that The Boo Radleys are such a *strange* band, and it feels like the "1001 albums..." book got its priorities all wrong, once again... "Strange" is not necessarily a flaw in the case of The Boo Radleys, by the way. You can't blame them for constantly trying to think out of the box so as to offer something truly *original*. There are not many notable records from music history that mix shoegaze, psychedelic rock and britpop with reaggae/dub in any relatively cohesive way, and I imagine that this mix of genres, along with the ambition displayed in *Giant Steps*, is what impressed music critics at the time. Yet this record is far from being *flawless*. First, it's too long. A little self-editing would have probably been welcomed here. At more than an hour of running time, ambition becomes sheer hubris in many parts of this LP. Secondly, Martin Carr sometimes has nice ideas when it comes to pure songwriting shenanigans (at least in terms of concept--see the My Bloody Valentine-inspired "Spun Around", for instance, or closer "The White Noise Revisited"). But unfortunately Carr is no Brian Wilson, contrary to what his PR agents would have you believe when this record came out. As a consequence, memorable hooks, choruses and melodies are not numerous enough, and I can't help shake the feeling that sophisticated arrangements were mostly used to hide such an obvious flaw. And all of this gives the impression that The Boo Radleys were a little pretentious at the time, maybe... Finally, Sice's lead vocals are too timid and understated to seal the deal for me. When your band is bent on making such a grand statement, you need a little more conviction, even if said band is partly self-deluded about the whole thing... Ironically, the vocals would improve a lot on the next album, *Wake Up Boo!*. Too bad the latter reconciled with simpler, more straighforward ideas mostly through a derivative, major-chord and horn-section driven cheesefest. The timing is always wrong with this act. Or is it with me? 🙃 Speaking of other Boo Radleys albums, it seems to me that the band sounded far more "natural" for their debut LP than in anything that followed it. Yes, *Everything's Alright Forever* was more "classic" shoegaze. But at least Carr's reach didn't exceed his grasp there. As a matter of fact, it is a very nice listen, and I'm even tempted to buy it. In a similar genre, that debut album might even beat Ride's *Nowhere* out of the park for me--and yes I know the latter is considered as a "masterpiece". But sometimes, "professional critics" get it all wrong, don't they? Number of albums left to review: 618 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 186 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 86 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 117 (including this one)

Let's get it on... and on and on. What I find very weird about this classic Marvin Gaye LP is that it can either be played as background music where each track sounds basically the same, OR be played as an album you really need to pay attention to--which means that it's sort of an intellectual exercise, far from its avowed goal to be music "to make love to your old lady by". As other folks pointed out here, the sensuality displayed in those very similar tunes is a little too on-the-nose for today's standards anyway. What's left is the spotless execution, production and performance. 4/4, if only for this. Number of albums left to review: 617 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 187 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 86 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 117

I could *swear* I have already seen this masterpiece pop up on this app. It's what they call a bad case of... déjà vu, is it not? Guess it's because this document about a turning point in American music history *had to* be in this list. And I knew it already. Whoever couldn't see it coming needs to dig further into the past. It's one of the ways you can better understand the present moment. Number of albums left to review: 616 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 188 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 86 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 117

Sarah Vaughan had a wonderful voice, it's undeniable. But as sweet and warm as it was, the performances recorded for this album didn't have the painful emotion of Billie Holiday's frail timbre, nor did they have the sheer genius of Nina Simone's arrangements. I like female jazz singers when they have a strong flair for the dramatic, what are you gonna do?🤷‍♂️ Besides, here is another instance of this list singling out a live album so as to put the spotlight on an "important" artist, instead of choosing a studio recording. Which, to me, tends to signify that said artist didn't make any significant strides in the LP format, contrary to most acts popping up in this app on a daily basis. Number of albums left to review: 615 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 188 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 86 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 118 (including this one)

Talking about Croft and Simn, that New York Times critic said it better than anyone else in the rock criticism business: "Though they're singing to each other, it rarely feels intimate", he wrote, "more like two shy teenagers, eyes cast downward, awkwardly talking to the ground". But even though this take was intended as snarly criticism, this is exactly what many people found appealing about this act at that time, very ironically. Did such minimalist act age well? The jury's still out on this one. But 2009 was such a poor year for music anyway (one of the poorest years ever, to be honest) that I guess the xx's unobtrusive minimalism was a breath of fresh air at least. Number of albums left to review: 614 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 189 (including this one?) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 86 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 118

I'm bummed. Not that this album doesn't have a few highlights that make it worthwhile to listen to (opener "You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side" and closer "Tomorrow" easily come to mind here). That being said, I just can't bring myself to forgive the Moz for pandering to the far-right parties of his country these days (all those UKIP and Brexiter morons of all stripes can eat shit, as far as I'm concerned...). Besides, one should never forget his unsavory public statements about immigrants "threatening" pure Englishness, or his incredibly dumb take about the slaughter of those Norwegian youngsters by a crazy far-right lunatic. And all those rancid "ideas" now polluting his mind (along with our eyes and ears) started here, with "The National Front Disco", the fourth track of this LP... Make no mistake, " The National Front Disco" is still a nice track, at least musically speaking. Yet it's quite a problematic one when it comes to its lyrics. And *now*, a few decades later, it's pretty clear that Morrissey's subsequent allegations that those admittedly ambiguous lyrics didn't mean he condoned fascist ideas were just a goddamn *act*. The man's downward spiral into despicable political stances started here, enough said. To be clear, my point is not to "cancel" the artist, whatever that word means. Nothing can erase the impact Morrissey has had on modern music, thanks to his tenure with the Smiths. But just like Kanye West, another "problematic" artist whose albums I really, really loved once, you can't take the stupid stuff that now comes out of his mouth lightly. So I would be lying if I said that listening to his solo albums doesn't make me feel queasy and ill-at-ease (that very same feeling I have with Kanye's records now). "Tomorrow, Will It really come? And if it does come? Will I still be human" Not in the full meaning of the word, Steven Patrick Morrisey, not in the full meaning of the word. But maybe becoming a sad caricature of who you once were is only "human" after all... Now add to this the fact that *Your Arsenal* is not a perfect record anyway, and here's how you can use his spot in this list for an artist that would deserve it much more than him. It's not easy to step in Johnny Marr's shoes anyway--not that the Moz's collaborators didn't try hard to do a good enough job on this one. Still giving an incredibly generous 3/5 grade to this album because of the music and songwriting, which is good overall, even if not always stellar. And as for half of those 3/5 albums, I won't include this LP in my own list of keepers. Let the hardcore fans talk about it on their own. As far as I'm concerned, I'm moving on. Number of albums left to review: 600 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 190 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 90 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 120 (including this one)

Messy and yet often wonderfully melodic, this album paved the way for a lot of new popular "indie" stuff in the 2000s, for better or for worse. This record, produced by TV On The Radio"s Dave Sitek, is indeed one of the few in that period that can still hold its own today. The New York scene of that day and age is often remembered for The Strokes and Interpol, but surely, early Yeah Yeah Yeahs were the third "trendy" band in the city that had something truly special at the time. Instant hits such as "Y Control", " Maps", "Date With The Night" and "Pins" prove it. Too bad Yeah Yeah Yeahs quickly lost their rough edges after this great debut, when they elected for a cleaner sound that doesn't suit them that well. Not that this ulterior development takes anything away from *Fever To Tell*, mind you. 4,5/5, rounded up to 5. Number of albums left to review: 599 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 191 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 90 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 120

"Waiting For The Sun" is one of my favorite songs by The Door. And the fact that this track is *not* on the album that bears its name has always confused me somehow. The *Waiting For The Sun* LP is a lesser album, by the way--only this one here, the self-titled debut and *LA Women* should be considered for such a list (with maybe *Strange Days* as well, at least if there's enough room for it at the end). The rest of the tunes in *Morrisson Hotel* is very good too, even if not as stellar as this psychedelic, catchy romp I've just mentioned. Oh, and that photograph on the album cover is iconic as well, which doesn't hurt. 4/5 stars. Number of albums left to review: 598 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 192 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 90 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 120

The 'Heads were just an album away from penning and recording their magnum opus when they released the already wonderful *Fear Of Music*. And you can feel it. Byrne was at the peak of his game during that period, and helped by Eno's production ideas, his band were firing on all cylinders. Only three tracks are *a little* underwhelming in this LP, first "Life During Wartime", to a certain extent (never understood why they picked that one as a single--it's very "linear", melodically speaking), but more specifically "Animals" and "Electric Guitars", very weird even for the band's usual standards. Fortunately, those latter two tracks are sandwiched between the perfect ballad "Heaven" and the evocative and moody "Drugs", two of my absolute favorite Talking Heads tracks. So the peaks are more significant than the valleys on side two. And the album is insanely great overall. 4,5/5, rounded up to 5 here. Number of albums left to review: 597 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 193 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 90 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 120

The mere fact that The Offspring is in this list and NOFX isn't perfectly encapsulates what's so goddamn wrong with Dimery's book sometimes. Commercial success is definitely favored over artistic merits once in a while. Usually, punk rock isn't too plagued with that sort of 'commercial concern', which makes a lot of punk albums in the list relevant. But here, it's pretty much the opposite that's going on... And it's quite frustrating. Just so you know, I really tried to listen to the album with fresh new ears, but this didn't really change my initial assessment of this record (and band) when it came out: because that thing's not so good, is it? To be clear, the problem is not merely that the band's music was way overrated by my generation. The problem was that as a songwriter, Dexter Holland was just a shrewd, cynical, opportunistic fox, and it shows. Never bought that pretense that the band didn't see their success coming, by the way. Everything in *Smash*'s singles is formatted so that said success could happen. And by "formatted", I mean *ripped off* from other 'trendy' bands at the time. Which gives an interesting subtext to some of Holland's lyrics. Are his claim that he's not a "trendy asshole" on the song "Smash" to be taken ironically, for instance? You tell me. I mean, how can you listen to *Self-Esteem* and *Gotta Get Away* and NOT see that it's a soulless attempt to replicate's Nirvana's formula? 'Soulless' being the key word to remember here. I know Kurt Cobain himself ripped off a few bands to create his timeless songs--so I guess there's still that to take into account--but at least he ripped off arcane stuff released by Killing Joke or Boston a decade or more before *Nevermind*. He didn't rip off a band that had a massive breakout success a couple of years ago. Well, Holland and his band did. OK, Cobain readily admitted that he also ripped off Pixies, not a breakout success into the mainstream at the time, but still a very important band. But at least Kurt brought his own subtle and elegant vocal harmonies to the whole thing. That's the reason most Nirvana songs sound great on an acoustic guitar and ones by The Offspring don't. What did Holland bring to that template, in comparison? To me, he brought a few simplistic, hackneyed melodies signalling his thing was all about style, not *substance*. And how much more cynical and opportunistic than that can you get, huh? About Dexter Holland's "opportunistic" tendencies, a quick sidenote: when the Nirvana tap petered out, The Offspring had to find other sources of inspiration, obviously. For a subsequent hit single a few years after *Smash*, Holland thus elected to rip off The Beatles' "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da"! How can you rip off The Beatles and choose one of their WORST SONGS EVER??? (instead of their many marvels)... Oh I have the answer: because it annoyingly lingers in people's heads, just like most of the famous songs recorded by The Offspring. Checks out. If enough people remember said tune--even if it's annoying to an extent--a lot of folks in general audiences will buy the damn thing anyway. Simple, eh? To return to *Smash*, it's got a couple of other memorable tracks at the start of the record, "Nitro' and "Bad Habit", and they're more in line with what the Epitaph roster was doing at the time. So I guess those two tracks are less opportunistic than the singles, at least. Speaking of singles, cheek-in-tongue "Come Out And Play" is not so bad, to be honest, but it got overplayed on the radio at the time the album was released, so I can't listen to it anymore. And apart from those few highlights I've listed here, everything else is pretty lame. There's even a mandatory ska-punk track on side two. Just in case that other trend might be useful to sell a few more unit shifters to a few more 'alternative' kids out there, I imagine. Ugh. 🙄 One last thing: Dexter's voice is quite grating in many parts of the record, even in the few good tracks in it. 'Punk' means raw or rough, I get that. Yet, there's also a whiny quality to his vocals that actually goes against the intended energy he displays while singing those songs. Maybe that whiny grain made the whole thing palatable for young mainstream audiences at the time, I don't know. To be fair, those sorts of 'flat', whiny vocals were to be found in many other skate-punk albums released around those years, so this is probably only a matter of personal taste here. But mine says such vocals didn't age well anyway. Holland is still a very talented man, don't get me wrong. It takes a lot of skills to manage the sort of shrewd success he's had with The Offspring. Besides, I've just read on Wikipedia that the man has many other assets I would never have imagined from a guy like him. He's a plane pilot, an entrepreneur, a charity fundraiser, a cook, and a science researcher. The last area is the most impressive endeavor, by the way. Working in molecular biology to potentially help find a vaccine against AIDS is worthy of all the praise you can give someone. So who cares if you never wrote a *truly* essential album when you were younger (and yet had a lot of success with it)? Trying hard to end on a *positive* note here. But it's not enough to make me include this LP in my own list. 2/5 for the purposes of such a list (which means 7/10 for a more general assessment: 5+2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 596 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 193 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 90 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 121 (including this one)

Still ten times more interesting than Pearl Jam, in a somewhat close nineties "alternative" genre. Yet still awkward and/or hackneyed in many places. A lot of the vocal melodies in the livelier tracks sound the same, Greg Dulli's attempts to infuse soul/r'n'b inflexions in his performance sometimes miss the mark, and the lyrics are, well, an acquired taste. I won't make the mistake many listeners did in this group when they confused author and narrator so as to label Dulli as an "incel"--*Gentlemen* is close to a concept album after all, and it's not because the story it tells has disturbing moments that Dulli should automatically be considered as a problematic figure. A few words about the artwork: I really like it. It tells the exact same story this album does with a picture that's beautifully shot and staged. People who find it "gross" lack subtlety. The point of the picture is NOT to place children in "adult" situations. The point is to express how immature, fragile and lost many adults are when it comes to sound relationship. And how their inner children get hurt as a result. Interestingly, I've also listened to Afghan Whigs' last LP, *How Do You Burn?*, released in 2022, and I thought it was far better than this supposed landmark of theirs. The thing is, this is not the nineties anymore, so very few people noticed that other record. Context and zeitgeist are often important to understand the artistic success that an album is. But sometimes, I wonder if those things are not blurring the picture somehow, at least when you want to assess a band's discography. As a conclusion, *Gentlemen* is not utterly bad, but I don't really see why it should be considered as an "essential' album. 2/5 for the purposes of this list (which means 7/5 for more general purposes: 5+2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 595 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 193 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 90 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 122 (including this one)

There's one of the 5 stars reviews in here that perfectly explains how this album of Leonard Cohen, released only 17 days before his passing, is the "lyrical" summation of all the grand themes he dealt with during his life. And I don't really see what I could add to that great review that would be meaningful. God, love, lust, death... The sheer magic of the title track says it all. A *dark* sort of magic, yes indeed. But magic nonetheless. Cohen's deep gravelly voice over those half-scary, half-angelic backgroud vocals is simply incredible by the way. If this doesn't send shudders down your spine, I don't know what will. There's just one thing, though. The music in this album is very good, but on average, it's less stellar than what Leonard had composed decades earlier. Half of said music was composed by others, by the way, but I guess you can't blame a frail old man about to die for asking collaborators to complete the task at hand... This situation allows me to address one common misunderstanding when it comes to Leonard Cohen: indeed, people often focus on his wonderful lyrics, but they also forget to mention how his arrangements and chord changes are as moving and effective as his words in his songs. Cohen proves it again here, with two absolute gems he penned all by himself for *You Want It Darker*; "Treaty" and "Steer The Way". The terrific chord progression and minor-major modulations on the latter, enhanced by a mischievous violin, should be studied in every songwriting schools out there. Most of the music Cohen didn't write for this album was composed by Patrick Leonard, who, believe or not, once co-wrote some of Madonna's most famous hit singles during the eighties (the mere fact that there is now a direct connection between Madonna and Leonard Cohen is mind-boggling to say the least). And fortunately Patrick brought his A-game on two songs in this LP: the admirable title-track, that we mentioned earlier, but also "Travelling Light". When in this one Cohen wrily whispers "I used to play one mean guitar"--while looking back on his life--there's a rush of memories and emotions that will surely flood you, at least if you know a little about the man's long career. So all in all, what we have here is four tracks that can easily rival with anything Cohen wrote and perfomed from the late sixties to the early nineties. Which is quite a feat given how legendary some of those earlier songs are. Of course, it's very hard to compete with such a brilliant past. Under that light, *You Want It Darker* will have to wait a little before being fully included in my own list of essential albums, contrary to *Songs Of Leonard Cohen*, *Songs Of Love And Hate*, or *I'm Your Man* (I'll first need to check if there's enough room for it at the end). But waiting right in front of the gates of heaven is, after all, the sort of situation that would have made the Canadian poet smirk a little. And I know he went through those gates, eventually. So I imagine he won't hold too much of a grudge against me, if ever we meet up there one day... 3.5/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums. Which means 8.5/10 for more general purposes (5 + 3.5). Number of albums left to review: 594 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 193 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 91 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 122

Has some of the most moving folk songs Neil Young has ever ever written--"Thrasher", "Pocahontas", "Ride My Llama" and "Sail Away", all gathered on the first side. Plus, the symmetrical structure of the album--folk numbers on side one, rock'n'roll tracks on side two, with the stellar cut "Powderfinger" transitioning between the two--makes this LP a very interesting listen. Of course, said "rockers" on side two might sound a little awkward to more modern ears today. Yet I guess that sort of clumsiness is now part of the charm of Crazy Horse anyway. As many reviewers have already pointed out, Young's bandmates have never been the best musicians in the world, but their straightforward, no-nonsense way to perform his livelier songs bring out what's so idiosyncratic about them. Those rock tracks wear their hearts on their sleeve, in a way. And that's a quality that many supposedly more accomplished musicians sometimes never reach during their careers. Finally, the two versions of "My My, Hey Hey" /"Hey Hey, My My" opening and closing the proceedings on this LP effortlessly display stuff that only rock legends are capable of. It's an infectious earworm, here transcended by the subject matter of its lyrics: it's possible to get old and show empathy for the next generation--all you need is to put yourself in their shoes. Plus, the guitar riff on the electrical version is just *huge*, paving the way for many other indie and "alternative" wonders to come. Released right after punk rock took over the world, *Rust Never Sleeps* is also a historical document to understand the cultural conversation that was going on at the time--one that could actually be translated to more subsequent generations and their own concerns. By itself, it's not a punk album. But it gives an external point of view on the whole thing. It's a point of view that's a little naive, I'll grant you that. Yet it's one that's beautiful, sensitive and a little provocative as well. Speaking of other generations... Yeah, fuck Joe Rogan. The latter only represents a sad pack of reactionary mindfucks that clearly are in the minority in younger populations, as "vocal" as those poor sods supposedly are online. History will not judge those goons well, you can bet your cowboys boots on that. Obviously, Neil Young has become a cantakerous grumbler himself in his old age (many old folks do, after all), and the way he opposed Rogan during that whole Spotify showdown thing was relatively naive as well (not to mention *limited* in its assessment of the whole debate around streaming apps every serious music fan should have right now). Yet I can only applaud Neil for bringing to the fore how greedy and cynical the Spotify executives were, and trying to do something about it at least. It was a matter of "principle". And I'm glad he stood by it until the end. Going back to *Rust Never Sleeps*, it's not the "best" solo record Young has ever released (this title should go to either *Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere*, *After The Gold Rush* or *Harvest*). But it still ticks all the boxes of what a truly "essential" album is Artistic concept, execution/performance, songwriting, melodies, lyrics, cultural impact... It's an unmitigated success in each of those areas. 4.5/5, here rounded up to 5. Number of albums left to review: 593 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 194 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 91 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 122

Given that I have given five stars to *Born To Run*, I can only give five stars for this one as well: *Darkness In The Edge Of Town*, released three years after Springsteen's magnum opus, is a welcome evolution of the man's artistry and overall sound after all, and the stellar "Badlands", "The Promised Land", "Streets Of Fire", "Prove It All Night" and the title track are enough evidence that you can't seriously talk about the Boss without mentioning this LP. Other cuts on the record are pretty impressive too, by the way: "Candy's Room" is for instance a criminally underrated gem, its infectious glockenspiel riff being one of the top best arrangements ever penned by the Boss in my book, and its overall instrumentation being also grittier and harder than your usual Springsteen song. And so is the instrumentation and performance on "Abel Raised A Cain"... You can sense that in 1978 the advent of punk rock did have a relative influence on the sort of epic blue-collar songcraft displayed by Bruce. Which makes total sense. Here is the sort of subtle ingredient that made this record age like fine wine, contrary to other LPs with Springsteen's name on it. And it's what makes it an "essential" album, along with *Born To Run* and *Nebraska*. Number of albums left to review: 592 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 195 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 91 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 122

I'm in two minds about that one. On the one hand, I tend to think that inclusing live albums on such a list is "cheating* a little. The next step would be to include compilation albums, and then the meaning of this list would go down the drain (even if it would allow me to include The Buzzcocks' *Singles Going Steady*, lol). On the other hand, " Live At The Regal" sounds like a perfect example of what BB King could do as a performer. I'm not a huge blues fan, you see--it's hard for me to forget that the genre uses the same chords over and over again, and I have a better attention span for arrangements and overall harmonies than I have for noodling guitar solos. But for someone like me, who is not a big fan of the blues, this sort of live album is actually the perfect entry point into it (just as Albert King's *Born Under A Bad Sign* is, even if that other legendary record is closer to *rhythm*'n' blues than this one is). To put it in a nutshell, what makes *Live At Regal* such a good entry point into blues is how "driven" this whole recording is (to the point where I found the crowd noises a little annoying sometimes--you don't need them so loud in the mix to get excited, really). I was for instance suprised by the high octane energy of the opener on this LP. I was moved by the sheer emotion of its closer. And everything in between sounded nice, even if it was a bit repetitive sometimes. BB King's voice is as devilishly suave as his guitar playing is suavely devilish. And this transcends the many constraints blues usually imposes on its performers... So I guess I'm gonna give this live album the benefit of the doubt... 3/5 for the purposes of this list. Which means 8/10 for more general purposes (3+8). Number of albums left to review: 591 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 195 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 92 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 122

If only for "Today" (instantly catchy), "Cherub Rock" (loud, heavy and menacing) and "Disarm" (one of the most heartfelt ballads ever penned this side of the nineties), *Siamese Dreams* deserves to be on this list. And the rest is great as well. Tortured and tender and terrific. Teenage angst at its finest, very different from Nirvana's version of it, but effective in its own right. The only issue with this LP is that Billy Corgan and co. could have used a little self-editing to reduce its length and make it even more striking. That sort of issue will have larger consequences on their next full-length release *Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness*, a double-CD/triple-LP extravaganza that will stretch the boundaries of what you can expect from double-albums, for better or for worse. Here, this is merely the case of a couple of songs being a little too long. Such admittedly minor flaws have an obvious point of origin. Billy Corgan is a great musician, and he was a talented songwriter during the nineties, but his Achilles' Heel is his overinflated ego, and this always has had consequences on the way his albums are constructed/designed/conceptualized (the last--and frankly ridiculous--example of this is that triple release he is currently going through...). Fortunately, the side-effects of Corgan's ego were not this *dire* on *Siamese Dreams*. Mostly because his songs were great at the time, no matter how long they were... Corgan also has a very distinctive, peculiar voice. I'm pretty fine with it, by the way, and if I understand how said voice can be grating for some ears, I still think it is one of the key ingredients that helped put the Smashing Pumpkins in the nineties 'alternative' map. So it's a good thing. As self-indulgent as the two albums I've quoted in this review are, The Smashing Pumpkins actually deserved to be noticed, thanks to the timeless rockers and ballads on those records. So it's no wonder both LPs appear on this list (and mine). Because they are inseperable "siamese" albums themselves, are they not? How unwittingly "meta" is that, huh? My grade for *Siamese Dreams*: 4.5/5, rounded up. Number of albums left to review: 590 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 196 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 92 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 122

Is this one Rolling Stones record *slightly* overrated? Sure it is. But like all *good* double albums, it takes its sweet time exploring different moods and atmospheres, and offers a unique listening experience, as many bigger fans of the Stones than I am have already pointed out, and this for decades. So I'd say the assets displayed by this one can easily make you dismiss its flaws and "soft spots" (i.e. an handful of blues jam sessions and a couple of covers that are more a tribute to Jagger, Richards and co. as performers than they are a tribute to them as songwriters...) Besides, there are enough highlights in *Exile...* to get any rock fan excited: " Rocks Off" and its blaring and joyous horns, "Tumbling Dice" and its exhilarated backing vocals, "Happy" and its sleazy guitar riff, "Shine A Light" and its elated performance... Or closer "Soul Survivor" and its classic Rolling Stones feel... It's also interesting to see how this double LP is craftfully and smartly designed, behind the first-glance impression of a work where the let's-throw-everything-at-the-wall-and-see-what-lands-where ethos supposedly prevailed. Each one of those four sides has a distinct overall sound and thematic groundwork, actually. Beyond the highlights scattered on all sides here and there, my favorite part is side two, thanks to its moving ballads going from country "Sweet Virginia" and rhythm'n'blues-influenced "Torn And Frayed" to the instantly catchy and topically relevant "Sweet Black Angel", not to forget "Loving Cup"'s eventual return to rhythm and blues. So yep, *Exile On Main Streets* is probably one notch under *Beggars Banquet*, *Let It Bleed* or *Sticky Fingers* (well, it has a less striking collection of songs than the latter album, that's for sure!). But it's still a 5/5 record if we stick to the avowed goals of such a list (like... maybe it's a 4.7 or a 4.8 album... But who cares about the decimals at this point, huh?). Not everything in an album is about individual songs anyway, the overall mood and artistic intent matters too. And the ones The Rolling Stones had in mind for this double LP can rock your socks off for ages! Number of albums left to review: 589 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 197 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 92 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 122

I think this banana is gonna get peeled until the end of human history. Is there anything that can be said about this masterpiece that hasn't been said a thousand times before? First, it's an incredibly influential record, whose ripple effects can still be felt on a lot of the music released today, more than 50 years after the fact (when it was indeed *underground*, and ignored by most music listeners). But most of all, it's an incredibly *versatile* record, that can adapt to settings and environments that are totally at odds with each other. You can play this legendary debut album on a "Sunday morning" as you drink a cup of hot chocolate and watch the rain fall outside from your living room--wearing a comfy old sweater and daydreaming until the album stops playing... And you can play this record on a Saturday night while "waiting for your man" in a drug-fuelled/booze-propelled party taking place in the flat rented by some of your wildest friends. And the craziest thing is that, as this album goes on, a bit of the "opposite" atmosphere will surreptitiously seep into the locale and circumstances of the place you are in. Odd feelings will disrupt your sunday routine. A sense of calm and peacefulness will be experienced as the rest of your friends keep on getting drunk or high. It's not so much that the record adapt to its settings. It's the *settings* that can adapt to the record. Such is the sheer genius of this LP, and one of the many reasons for its timeless appeal. 5/5, obviously. And a mandatory listen whenever you travel to NYC. When time, place, cultural history and music can be condensed into a single artefact, you know you're dealing with an "essential" work of art. Number of albums left to review: 588 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 198 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 92 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 122

If ever there was a contest to pick the most self-indulgent, "overrated" act in music history, Spiritualized would have a great opportunity to win the cup. And the first three quarters of this debut album prove it time and again. Self-indulgence is not even a passing flaw here, it's the whole "raison d'être" behind the band's existence. Which makes such claims that they produced so-called "essential" albums quite dubious, if you wanna know about my personal opinion. Let's go into specifics: in *Lazer Guided Melodies*, Spiritualized played neo-psychedelia without the bite or sense of fun of a Brian Johnston Massacre. They wrote middle-of-the-road rock songwriting without the live energy of The Stone Roses. They aped "motorik" kraut without the relentless drive of a Neu!. And they designed electronic-oriented rock without the groove of a Primal Scream... In other words, they didn't do much, in spite of all the energy they spent. Do you think I'm harsh here? OK, answer this question first: what has Jason Pierce to offer, really--apart from using his bland, timid voice to mumble shapeless syllables and tasteless, unoriginal melodies *over the same three frigging chords from one track to the next*??? Is the title of that debut LP supposed to be ironic? If that's the case, the joke is unfunny. Those melodies are not "lazer-guided", they are on automatic pilot mode. And consequently, almost none of them are memorable. Sure, most of the time, the music itself sounds extremely "spacey".. But there's no clear intent in it, no clear throughline that could send you to the stars and beyond. The fuel on Pierce's rocket goes "pop" and then stays stuck on the ground. And as he and his band trip out in the sterile, artificial soundscapes they're so keen on creating around themselves, all you can do is watch them from the ground with a dumfounded look on your face. I can't see "outer space" in the backdrop of their drug-addled routine, only a damn Hollywood green screen. By the way, and speaking of "drugs", I don't need to take heroin or LSD to turn this album into a "good" one. The album should make me *feel* like I'm on heroin or LSD *without me having to take the damn drugs*. There lies the *huge* difference... I can sense devil's advocates already preparing their arguments here. Something in the likes of: "You're tone-deaf: listen to all the gorgeous arrangements Pierce wrote and performed!" Well, I'm not denying the man has a keen ear for sonic details, in spite of his laziness and lack of imagination when it comes to pure songwriting. The thing is, Pierces piles up those arrangements on top of one another without ever considering which ones should be emphasized so that his music succeeds in leaving a lasting impression for most audiences. You might retort that it's my fault, that I should pay more attention to the layers and layers of sounds he and his bandmates recorded. But, to me, it's *their* fault. It's their godamn job to select the best elements in a piece of music so as to make them stand out. If everything is buried in the mix--every little guitar inflexion, every synth drone, every tabla and echo and effect and whatnot--should I be blamed for not letting myself go? If no real epiphany, no real climax gives meaning your repeated melodic lines overstuffed by so many details around them, should I blame my own expectations? Or conversely, is the "product" at fault here? You tell me. In the meantime, here's a quick reminder: less is more, very often. And very often, this record forgets that. It's the drugs Pierce is selling that are the problem, not the drug-addict that I am (read: "music-addict"). Everything I've said so far is about the "three first quarters" of the album, remember? Well, here's what I'm thinking about the last quarter: in the middle of "Shine A Light", something clicked at last, and it was a welcome surprise. The climax of this track is excellent, and it's as if the LP came alive at the eleventh hour. Right after this climax, "Angel Sigh" was also a pretty convincing cut. The walls of noisy guitars on those two songs woke me up, I imagine... But they're not the main reasons those two tracks work out and the other ones don't for me... Sure, those two songs display the sort of noisy-yet-melodic shoegazy stuff that a later post-rock act such as Mogwai--criminally left aside in Dimery's list--will later accomplish (and this even if Mogwai performed such "walls of noise" ten times better than Spiritualized). Yet, as welcome as those electric guitar shenanigans are, those two tracks are actually good mostly because Pierce finally decided which arrangements in them should be their *true* backbone (remember what I said earlier abou "arrangements"?). In "Shine A Light", it's the horn section, and in "Angel Sigh" it's the cellos. Both are hypnotic, intense, and great. And they serve the songs right, thus saving this record from a 0/5 grade, as far as I'm concerned. Unfortunately, a couple of good tracks towards the end can't *fully* redeem this album for me. The last cut, *200 Bars* even emphasizes what is generally wrong with Spiritualized's music in my book. Yep, this piece is too goddamn long (100 bars too long, by my count), and it seems that its writer/composer knows it. Which why the whole thing is even mentioned in the lyrics... I can appreciate the self-deprecatory, tongue-in-cheek irony here, don't get me wrong. But when the line between earnestness and self-parody is so thin, as it is the case here, it's no surprise that a lot of folks in an audience start raising their eyebrows. Maybe it means that you're not exactly mastering what it is you want your music to say. Maybe it means you're favoring "style" over "substance", and start to lose the thread that could tell you which is which. And maybe--just maybe--it means that you're an excellent musician and creator, but that when it comes to this list, you should leave room for even more stellar creators. 1001 is a finite number after all. Number of albums left to review: 588 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 198 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 92 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 123 (including this one)

Back when Gorillaz was fun and fresh, as patchy and a little uneven this debut album is sometimes. Damon Albarn, here helped by Dan The Automator, sure had a great "concept" with this idea of a virtual band. And some of the tracks slap, "Clint Eastwood" being for instance an all-time great. The thing is, other cuts on this record sound a little too gimmicky, and some of the electronic elements or rappings displayed haven't aged that well. Tempted to include the album nonetheless, since it documents the zeigeist of the early naughts in ways most other LPs then released don't. Maybe the naughts don't deserve to be so well documented anyway. You tell me... It was a time when music went through such a constant "Re-hash" (wink-wink) that you sometimes had the feeling the best of it was behind. Fortunately, it wasn't, because things then got better--listen to a lot of the great albums released these days... But that's a story for another time, kiddies. Maybe I'll draw a cartoon to tell it as well, one of these days... 3.5/5 for the purposes of this list (which means 8.5 for more general purposes: 5 + 3.5) Number of albums left to review or just listen to: a little less than 600, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

*The Joshua Tree* is the perfect example of a good album that just missed being great by a hairline. It opens with three legendary tracks suggesting this is the band's magnum opus. To be fair, many hardcore fans of U2 believed it was indeed a magnum opus at the time it came out, but go only a couple of years ahead, and it quickly dawned upon you the album didn't age that well, at least with everything that was happening in the music world at the turn of the nineties... The thing is, everything after the first three "hits" in *The Joshua Tree* sounds like a *relative* letdown today. Good songwriting overall, but the dynamics of the album never make you reach the heights you started with again. What you have instead is Bono literally preaching to his flocks, inspired by Americana and its grand, self-serious themes. And depending on my mood, I can grow a little weary of such a routine... U2 made two other very good albums during their long career: *War* and *Achtung Baby* (plus *Zoopropa*, a weird outlier not worthy of this list, yet still containing some interesting "experiments" in it). And each of those records pretty much have the same relative flaws and undeniable assets: they can boast of legendary tracks that will remembered for a long time, but those tunes are also mixed with cuts that are only *good*, and not truly stellar. Just like for *The Joshua Tree*, those albums are 4/5 LPs for me (they're 9/10 records in a way, but I want to focus on the truly "essential" albums for my own selection, hence why I'm so harsh in my current grading). So I will include the three albums in my list, because we're still talking about an iconic band here. But they'll probably at the bottom of it. In other words, I'm glad those records were made, and I'm happy for the fans. But I can live *with or without them*, in a way. 😉 Number of albums left to review: 587 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 199 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 93 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 123

One cannot overstate how iconic and peasant to the ear the title track is. But, to be honest, and as open as I can be about sixties music and the cultural milestones they left us with, I'm still having a hard time finding the rest of this album as compelling as its opener. I've tried before, and I will probably try again. But in the meantime, I'm putting this on my "maybe" list... Number of albums left to review: 586 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 199 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 94 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 123

The Spotify link actually leads to the double-release *Love Song* and *Devotional Songs*, called *Love & Devotion* for that reissue. But given Nustrat Fateh Ali Khan's protean discography, it's not a problem to spend a little more time with him anyway... I don't know much about the Qawwali school of music Khan was the grand master of, to be honest (I have another NFAK album at home, *Mustt Mustt*--one of his crossover collaborations with Michael Brook--but it's literally been *decades* since I listened to it). And obviously I can't understand the words Nusrat sang. Yet it's funny how "love songs" sounded like genuine "devotional songs" to me (and vice-versa). After I've listened to those two records, I've read some stuff online suggesting the two formats are actually deeply related to each other, so I wasn't that far off the mark, I guess. In a way, "love" and "devotion" are interchangeable here, even if the religious or romantic contexts behind them are not (and Khan would most certainly frown upon me for doing so). Oddly enough, I tend to prefer the instrumentation and harmonies displayed on *Love Songs*, even if critics more specialized and knowledgeable that I will ever be on the subject singled out *Devotional Songs* as the slightly superior album between the two. Whatever the case may be, it's a great experience to go through them one after the next... It's always odd to select a little bit of "global" music in a list clearly centered on the Western World. Maybe each continent could have its own 1001 albums list to enhance and praise different musical traditions from all around the world. I don't know if that's a good idea, but that could at least make up for the cultural bias of this particular list. No judging here, it's a bias that I personally share with Dimery and co., even if I know it's a flaw (admittedly an unavoidable one, wherever you come from). That being said, and to return to this particular double-release, I like this man's voice. And his music is rich, entrancing and far more varied in its harmonies (along with the different emotions it triggers) than the codified tradition it draws from lets on... 4/5. It's the sort of record that makes me eager to learn more, and there are not so many of them, are they? Since I've listened to that double-album, I've dug further, and found many gems by NFAK. Listening to them, I've come to realize that the lush orchestration and the edited versions of *Love And Devotion* have their charms and serve the songs right, but that some of the other live versions of those compositions out there are *way more* intense, just as they are longer and more adventurous. Feeling like I'm falling into a wonderful rabbit hole here. Thanks, Dimery and co. :) Number of albums left to review: 585 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 199 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 95 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 123

This album is a mess, but it's a *beautiful* mess. The overall concept is hilarious and often well-executed, from that iconic cover down to the tongue-in-cheek radio interludes. Admittedly, it's not always an easy listen when you take the whole thing in one sitting: some of the 180-turns are jarring, and a couple of tunes are a little lackluster, especially compared to the highlights scattered throughout the album. Yet this thing is still very interesting and fun to listen to, both as a historical document about the sixties, and as a work of art dealing with consumption society--a topic that's still very relevant 55 years after *The Who Sell Out* came out. To put it in nutshell, this record is maybe a notch under *My Generation*, *Tommy*, *Who's Next* or even *Quadrophenia*. Yet it's still an "essential" album. Who's next now? (Sorry, couldn't resist) 😁 Number of albums left to review: 584 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 200 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 95 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 123

Darting through the technology-driven optimism of the eighties, Peter Gabriel finally reached pop stardom with *So*, his fifth solo album. While his prog-rock chops as a former singer and leader of Genesis could still be felt in various parts of his first four LPs, *So* is the record where Gabriel burnt all the boats behind him so as to fully embrace the commercial aesthetics of his day and age, and this for better or for worse. The better is obviously the hard-hitting, bass-heavy, rhythm'n'blues-via-Otis Redding-inspired cut "Sledgehammer", a legendary first single that was "horny" in all the senses of the word, and whose infectious melodies and arrangements, aided by an iconic video, blasted the doors of MTV wide open--giving Gabriel access to most American homes at the time. The "better" is also the touching duet with long-time accomplice Kate Bush, "Don't Give Up", and the equally touching "In Your Eyes", with Youssou N'Dour's backing vocals at its end--another stepping stone in the long-standing tryst between Gabriel and "global" music (best exemplified through his later Realworld label). The heartfelt and wide-eyed opening track "Red Rain", propelled by an interesting drum section, is also pretty good (in spite of a dated "gated" sound probably half-ruining said drums for today's ears--more on that later...). In all those songs, Gabriel's vocal performance displays this mix of strength and frailty that makes him such an effective pop singer. Somehow, and in spite of the 80s "cleanliness" of the mix, you can still sense sincere emotions bubbling through the surface. It's in those subliminal cracks in his voice--necessary breaths of fresh air piercing through all the gloss around them. Also worthy of note is the other duet in the album, "This Is The Picture (Excellent Birds)"--this time with the eccentric, avant-garde singer/spoken-word artist Laurie Anderson. You can find another version of this off-kilter experimental song in Anderson's second LP, *Mister Heartbreak*, by the way. Both mixes and renditions are haunting and evocative--with the *So* version being a little more straightforward, maybe, in keeping with the record's overall aesthetics. All of this is fine and dandy, but the album is not without a few borderline-unforgiving flaws. First, and we've just touched upon that, even for the good songs there's indeed a typically eighties aseptic sound that takes away all of the potential edges Gabriel could have retained to give more genuine flavors to the whole shebang--and none of that is more direly experienced than on the unashamed cheesefest "Big Time". Even when taking into account the song's sarcastic lyrics about a naive man moving to a city so as to "make it" there, the hackneyed, cliché-laden instrumentation on this one is jarring and, frankly, quite unnecessary. Besides, given how "commercial" Peter Gabriel wanted to sound back in 1986, it's hard to pinpoint the exact level of self-awareness behind those ironic lyrics about the capitalist zeitgeist of the middle eighties. One actually wonders if the line between self-deprecatory impulses and sheer cynicism was all that clear for the British singer at the time. If you go "meta", you should at least make your intentions clearer than any of the ones found there. Otherwise, it's just a silly joke you make on your audience. Secondly, some of the other tracks pale in comparison to the highlights of the album. Those cuts are admittedly not as horrible as "Big Time", but they still take their toll on the larger picture (this LP only has nine tracks, after all). "That Voice Again" is for instance a meat-and-potatoes eighties pop cut, enhanced by big-production ideas, but not striking enough as a barebones song to leave a lasting impression. "Mercy Street" is supposed to be as moving as "Don't Give Up" and "In Your Eyes", but its lack of clear dynamics and its unobtrusive instrumentation make it rather bland--a flaw that's quite ironical here given that the rest of the album is *not* subdued enough to age that well. And eerie "We Do What We're Told (Milgram's 37)" sounds fine, but it's mostly an instrumental, so it doesn't bring the necessary contents to make up for the album's shortcomings. Besides, one wishes that Gabriel taking the subject of Milgram's dreadful experiments as inspiration for a piece of music could have produced something more substantial, at least. The British singer had already used such "topical issues" for some of his most stellar songwriting in the past (see "Biko", "San Jacinto" or "Family Snapshot"). And under that light, "We Do What We're Told" is a disappointment. *So*, no pun intended there, what's the real deal with this album, beyond all the official critical praise? Well, let's just say that as far as "magnum opuses" go, Peter Gabriel's fifth LP is far from being a spotless affair. It seems like this album can be best appreciated if you put it back to the context of the middle years of the eighties, which makes it far less "timeless" than a large part of the records singled out in Dimery's list. 1986 did not leave us many lasting masterpieces compared to most other years of the 20th century, by the way--which might have helped *So* become a landmark of sorts, both for its creator and for 80s pop in general. Here is how a generally talented, part-zany, part-ambitious singer/songwriter managed to secure his place under the sun, along with his legacy. Peter Gabriel had what it takes to become a pop star. But did he have what it takes to pen and perform one of the 1001 most "essential" albums of all time? The jury's still out on this one. 3/5 for the purposes of this list (which means 8/10 for more general purposes: 5+3) Number of albums left to review: 583 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 200 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 96 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 123

Ever fallen asleep on the couch in front of the telly, to then later wake up to a puzzling or quaint sort of program broadcast in the middle of the night? Usually I would watch the end of that thing in a drowsy state, and then turned off the TV during the... weather report. Just saying. I've tried listening to that album before, and this is what it made me feel like. At least so far. Funny how I prefer the most renowned musicians of this project (Joe Zawinul, Wayne Shorter and Jaco Pastorius) when they collaborated with other household names, rether than together. Fretless bass player Jaco Pastoris, expecially, shone bright in Joni Mitchell's *Hejira*, and Zawinul and Shorter's stays with Miles Davis for a couple of significant albums were not forgotten. In comparison, Weather Report (or at least this album, supposed to be their magnum opus) is a far less stellar affair than the collabs evoked up there. Remember that Dimery's list forgot key albums by Charles Mingus, among other jazz staples. So when it comes to this genre, you should take said list with a grain of salt. That said, you often need time and several listens to give a jazz album a fair chance, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do now. And for once, I will detail the thing track by track, maybe that will help me make up my mind... "Birdland", a Zawinul composition, relies a little too much on major chords at first. The keyboards sounds favored by Zawinul are cheesy, of course (more on that later, but to sum it up, they're characteristic of the fusion jazz of that time, I guess). Yet at some point there's a mean bridge on those keys that woke me up. And the ending with the clapping hands was a nice and effective touch to take that piece to an unexpected place. Not so bad overall. "A Remark You Made", another composition by Zawinul, proves that cheesefests are not always created by the sounds used, but mostly through the notes you play. Shorter's solo is supposed to be mellow, but it's mostly boring as hell, going to all the syrupy nooks and crannies this "sugary" piece prompts him to go. But once again, the cut unexpectedly comes alive at the end, and gels around some more complex harmonies. I'm not sure this saves the whole track this time, but I'll take that moment as a positive sign the overall record has somethig meaningful to say. "Teen Town". Love it. It's tense and tight. This is a Pastorius composition and his playing is pure fire on this one. Love the subtle touches brought by Zawinul and Shorter as well. And I appreciate the track's brevity. Sometimes jazz musicians were too self-indulgent in their build-ups. Here they're not, because there's no build-up per se. Which is suprising, because this is the band's main asset so far. Speaking of which, I didn't know what to think about the Wayne Shorter-penned "Harlequin" at first, but in keeping with the first two tracks' structures, it's the final climax, triggered by Zawinul's ambiguous chords, that gives its meaning to the whole endeavor. Not so bad, once again. "Rumba Mamà" is mostly persussion, played live, and this very short track seems to have been included in the record to give writing credits to the drummers/percussionists, Alex Acuña and Manolo Badrena. They're awesome musicians as well, by the way, and not only in this cut dedicated to them. As a consequence, I started paying more attention to the percussions on the Shorter number that followed, "Palladium". But then the tense interaction between Shorter and Zawinual caught my ear, and I couldn't let go. Wow, what a climax, once again! Zawinul's "The Juggler" starts out very gently, its keyboard's hooks even reminding me of the sort of instrumentation found in prog-rock ballad. Yet there's no build-up or final crescendo this time--very quietly, the track goes to sleep. I was a little disappointed at first, but you can't say that Weather Report relies on the same exact formula, at least. Should we write their name "Wether" Report? Closer "Havonius" was composed by Pastorius, and since the latter was far away in the background of the second side tracks, it seems logical that the man takes center stage for the album's finale. I expected a grand climax at the end, and I had one, but somehow, I'm a little disappointed. It all went a little too fast, as if the track only served a "functional" purpose for the album. Then again. it was not that bad a closer. So, to put it in a nutshell, once you go past the clearly *dated* keyboard sounds, here emphasized by the peculiar effects of the fretless bass, you can find some good moments on the album. The musicianship is amazing, of course, but when it comes to the music itself, there also aesthetic flaws in this 1977 album that have nothing to do with the "sound" that is favored here (the main culprit is "A Remark You Made", and its critical place on the second spot of an eight-track LP takes its toll, honestly). 3/5 for the general purposes of this list, which means 8/5 for more general purposes (musicianship, performance, engineering and other technical aspects, contemporary reception...). Next please. Number of albums left to review: 582 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 200 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 97 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 123

"Faron Young", " Appetite", "When Love Breaks Down", "Desire As" and "Blueberry Pies" are essentially good songs, in spite of their dated sophisti-pop instrumentation (some of it aged well, and other parts did not). Yet the trouble is that the rest, more than half of the tracks, actually, is a borefest. And the production values are not the only thing to blame here. The middle part of the record, especially, is a slog. The only thing I can remember well from it is that "Goodbye Lucille/Oh Johnny, Johnny" nonsense, but frankly I wish I could have forgotten that. An interesting anecdote: just like for Lemonheads' *It's A Shame About Ray*, recent reissues of this album come with an acoustic, "Unplugged-like" session with the band playing the most memorable tunes of this record. *It's A Shame About Ray* was pestered with a clicheed nineties sound, and *Steve McQueen* is plagued by the same sort of thing, but this time from the eighties. I take those types of addition as a confession: "Hey, now we know the production of our supposed 'magnum opus' sucks balls... So here's what it could have felt like in a better world". Interestingly, the acoustic versions only confirmed what I thought of each of the individual songs. And believe me: even played on an acoustic guitar, "Goodbye Lucille #1" still sucks. 2/5. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: a little less than 600, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

To be perfectly honest with you all, I don't see what I can say about this historical debut that would add anything meaningful about its sheer impact. Using the overall presentation on this app, I'd rather let Reuben Jackson of the Smithsonian Institution speak: "It altered the syntax of the music ... in a way I compare to James Joyce's Ulysses." Then Reuben dropped the mike, I believe. Oh, just one thing: the CD version (either the US or the UK one), complete with all the singles and bonus tracks recorded during that period, is obviously the edition to own. 5/5 Number of albums left to review: 580 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 201 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 97 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 124

It's one of those albums where the story behind the scenes seems more interesting than the music itself. And I reckon that's why all those retrospective reviews keep on singling this one out, in spite of common sense. Rock critics love it when they have a story to tell for a review, don't they? But that doesn't necessarily mean the contents of the record they praise are *that* important. Here's the thing about Malcom McLaren: there's probably a good reason explaining why his first foray into the music business was being a manager and not being an actual musician. The man had good instincts, don't get me wrong, and this both in the business/promotion area and in the manner he chose his collaborators for this album. Yet as good as the future Art Of Noise collective Trevor Horn, Anne Dudley and J. J. Jeczalik are as producers/music writers, they can't save this record from the hodgepodge that it is at heart. There are two main issues preventing this LP to be an "essential" one. First, on a couple of pivotal tracks, there's the cheesy, dated imitations of a rap style that was in its infancy at the time--an imitation that has none of the cultural importance and social urgency you can still assign to those early attempts today (See Sugarhill Gang, Grandmaster flash, etc.). And then, there's the lack of cohesion of this whole thing: fusing different "global" sounds into a single offering is a valuable idea. But when the execution sounds awkward overall decades later, it means that the concept was not enough. You need a real vision, cruelly lacking in this LP. If at least McLaren had brought something truly personal to that mix, maybe his project would have been worthwhile. But the point is that this project has no identity. Hence why it sounds a little shallow today. Under that light, accusations of cultural appropriation against what is only a very obscure release today make me smirk. If you say "Malcolm McLaren" to anyone interested in music history, 99% of them will reply: "Oh, yeah. The Sex Pistols manager". They won't reply: " Oh yeah. *Duck Rock*". So if ever McLaren appropriated other people's music for this... *thing*, it didn't bring him very far as an artist anyway. Well, sure, it *did* bring him money, especially since he "forgot" to give credits to some of the other artists he pillaged. But I guess that beef is settled for now. Or is it? Do we only have access to the tip of the iceberg here? Yep, that's a question that looms over the way you can "feel" about this record as well, even if that doesn't necessarily mean the music itself is bad... Speaking of which, I have to say that "Obatala" was an interesting ambient introduction for the LP, very dreamy, and that "Soweto" sounded quite uplifting, along with a few afro-beat or latin tracks here and there. Those good moments save this record from a 1/5 grade. Not so bad, all things considered: as I see it, a 2/5 grade for the purposes of this list means a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2). Number of albums left to review: 579 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 201 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 97 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 125 (including this one)

Nice artwork. Gives you the idea that you're in for a nice hard rock ride--one that's gonna push all your buttons if you're up to that sort of thing. But does that cover hold all of its promises? "Back In The Saddle" and "Last Child" have slick main riffs and a mean groove, I'm not gonna lie. "Rats In The Cellar" then accelerates the pace, but to no great effect, unfortunately, this track being a meat-and-potatoes hard boogie rocker that doesn't sound very fresh or original. Besides, Steven Tyler's vocals sound weird on this one, buried in the mix as they are... "Combination" then heads back to the sleazy rhythms of the first two tracks, yet it doesn't really add anything relevant to the whole picture. "Sick Of The Dog", the track that follows, is far more memorable, though. It's the third highlight of the album, with an effective and lively outro section. "Nobody's Fault" then attempts to imitate Led Zeppelin--with various results depending on which moment of the song you're talking about, but still quite successfully overall. Next, the boogie routine returns with "Get The Lead Out"--the word "boogie" being even quoted in the lyrics. Said routine can wear your patience a little thin at this point, at least depending on the mileage you have on those types of hard rock shenanigans. However, the outro section, with its long droning sound, is interesting--it's as if Aerosmith chose the option radically opposite to your usual solo-driven conclusion, and it's a choice that aged well, I think. "Get the Lead Out" is not a highlight, sure, but it's still ten times better than the stinker that pops up right after it, "Lick And A Promise", a cheesy, hackneyed cut going "na na na na" at the end. Quite annoying. And how many times are you gonna repeat the word "boogie", Steven? Finally, "Home Tonight" ticks the necessary hard-rock-ballad box, but the song is unfortunately far less moving and far more mundane and "functional' than stellar "Dream On" on Aerosmith's debut. Speaking of other Aerosmith recordings, I noticed that *Rocks* is not even among the most popular albums the band released on Spotify. If casual fans don't go to that one that much, does that mean that contemporary rock critics were actually right to point out this record was still some sort of post-breakthrough slump? Let's see... Four highlights, pretty good but not the stuff legendary rockers are made of, five middling tracks, and one clear stinker... This, out of nine songs, doesn't scream "essential" to me. And side two is quite a slog to go through, even if this LP is short. I'd rather listen to a greatest hits album, to be honest. 3/5. (8/10 for purposes more general than the ones this aims at: 5 + 3) Number of albums left to review: 578 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 201 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 97 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126 (including this one)

A gem. "Four Women", " Lilac Wine", "Break Down And Let it All Out", " Wild Is The Wind", "Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair"... And all the other songs... Nina's performance, her arrangements, the range of emotions displayed... 5 stars, obviously. There is no coincidence here. When stellar performers and songwriters such as David Bowie or Jeff Buckley make legendary covers out of songs taken from the *same* LP, it means that this LP is a keeper. And this doesn't even take into account the way Simone influenced so many other artists through her *other* records... By the way... The mere fact that there is only *one* Nina Simone album in Dimery's list speaks volumes about its shortcomings. I get that no list like that can satisfy every listener out there, and I still think the *1001 Albums...* is a great tool to discover artists from the past. But when you manage to cram at least three frigging Aerosmith LPs in your list (the band I actually had to review right before *Wild Is The Wind*), the least you can do is get your sh*t together and include *Little Girl Blue*, *I Put A Spell On You* and *Pastel Blues* as well. I mean, seriously... It would be nice if new editors could refresh and/or update that list. Some of the choices made for the 21st century are already arguable, even if I understand a consensus is always harder to find for more recent albums. But when there are such huge gaps for the sixties, said flaws become unforgivable. Number of albums left to review: 577 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 202 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 97 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

A little anecdote found in the "Vol. 4" Wikipedia page: "In the studio, the band regularly had speaker boxes full of cocaine delivered." I can't think of a better metaphor to describe the sound of this early heavy metal masterpiece. In the end, all the drama and substance abuse behind the scenes was worth it. "Supernaut" has not one but *two* of the best guitar riffs of all time, "Changes" is an incredibly effective and surprisingly tender ballad, nicely supported by a tactful mellotron-and-piano arrangement, and the rest is generally excellent, from "Wheels Of Confusion"'s epic finale to closer "Under The Sun". "Tomorrow's Dream" and "Snowblind" (an ode to that white powder the band loved so much, almost giving its name to this fourth album) are also among the best songs Black Sabbath ever wrote. And "Laguna Sunrise" is one of those evocative ambient instrumentals giving interesting dynamics to their LPs, proving once again that there was more than meets the eye in them. The first four Black Sabbath albums will be in my final list ("Sabbath Bloody Sabbath" and "Sabotage" won't, but they're still very good records). And, you see, I'm not even a huge metal fan. It's just that sometimes, bands go through a string of three or four subsequent releases that are spotless, leaving an imprint that is as culturally relevant as it is a blast to listen to, even decades after. See also: Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Kinks, The Who, Led Zeppelin, The Velvet Underground, David Bowie, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Kraftwerk, Sonic Youth, Pixies, Pavement, PJ Harvey, Radiohead, Deftones, Rage Against the Machine, A Tribe Called Quest, Kendrick Lamar, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Mogwai and Low, among others... Early Black Sabbath is *obviously* in that league. The genre you're into never matters as much as the quality of the music. And when what you're doing sets a template for the decades to come, you're one of the greatest, period. 5/5. Number of albums left to review: 576 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 203 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 97 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

Interesting... I usually don't like country music, but I want my own list to include a few examples of it at least. And so far, this record is one of the best candidates in the genre I've heard. Its "two-generations-meet" concept is pretty neat, its atmosphere is enticing--thanks to the spoken word interludes between the songs, showing the players prepping before a lot of those cuts--and well... some of the tracks are great! I know they're covers or standards, but oddly enough that doesn't bother me at all given that this is a collaborative record, with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band merely being the vessel that got all those old C&W stars gathered in one place. I love many of the arrangements as well: like the final section of "Keep On The Sunny Side"; or the instrumental "Nashville Blues", with its fiddle and banjo fingerpicking going to weird minor-major transitions; or the backing vocals of "Dark As A Dungeon"; or that incredible guitar solo sliding and, well, literally *wailing* about "The End Of The World" in the instrumental bearing the same name... And I'm only talking about the highlights of the first CD here. Obviously, this release is a LOT to take in in one single sitting, but other stuff on the latter part of the record sound promising as well. The fiddle so aptly imitating a train on that "Orange Blossom Special" instrumental makes it a version that I already find as endearing as the one played by Johnny Cash. I was not paying attention to the names of the songs anymore at this point, and it put me... right on track, ha ha. Speaking of the attention span you need for such a long record... I've noticed that the "pure" bluegrass cuts providing the bulk of the music offer the liveliest and most effective moments here. To me, bluegrass is when "country" becomes a little more interesting, rhythmically and harmonically speaking. Reminds me of when I attended a bluegrass gig when I lived in Indiana for a while, and the blast it was to watch that band play. Wish I could remember those guys' names now... A few words about the overall "country" umbrella style now... Johnny Cash's deep voice and dark persona will always make him a favorite of mine, and I've got to say that I've changed my mind about Marty Robbins' *Gunfighter Ballads And Trail Songs*, as I will maybe include it in my own list now. The thing is, I still don't sense anything even remotely interesting is happening in most country albums music-wise. Artists like Buck Owens, for instance, also wrote famous songs in the honky-tonk genre, but apart from those well-known cuts, everything from him (and other artists of that caliber) sounds the same to me. Yet I'm trying hard to keep an open mind. I guess Dimery's list helps me a lot doing so, at least. Because that Nitty Gritty Dirt Band record popped up today, I have now explored other ones by Willie Nelson, and I must say I was pretty impressed by *Shotgun Willie* and *Phases And Stages*--far more, actually, than Nelson's return from "outlaw country" to the more mainstream, "vanilla" moods of *Stardust*, along with its strings of pop and jazz covers--a record that's also included in the 1001 albums list, by the way... Maybe a sign that I should dig into less "obvious" releases so as to truly enjoy C&W... But all of this is a story for another time. To return to *Will The Circle Be Unbroken*, I'll give it a somewhat nice score, just because it opened a few gates for me. And for purposes others than the ones of this list, it's at least an 8/10. Being a double-album (triple, actually?) that invites a dozen of other artists to record with the band, said album is a hodgepodge, of course. Yet it's the sort of hodgepodge that makes sense in the end, especially when you want to get acquainted with a whole new genre. Number of albums left to review: 577 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 203 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 98 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

Even though its title was intended to be ironic, this is the album where Depeche Mode went from being a dark dancefloor-aimed synthpop act to a whole other level. *Music For The Masses* sees Gore, Gahan, Wilder and Fletcher honing their skills to create an LP where the overall mood and dynamics are as important as the individual songs--a lesson they will use to even greater effects in their magnum opus *Violator*, released right after this LP. Gore's evocative songwriting had never been this subtle before, mixing innuendoes about debauchery with religious overtones, all of this above surprising-yet-pristine chord sequences complemented by a wealth of addictive keyboards hooks. And Gahan's performance reaches the soulfullness required to transcend such stellar writing. Highlights abound: epic opener "Never Let Me Down Again", lively "Strangelove", the ambiguous yet poignant synth ballad "Little 15", the driven and aptly-named "Behind The Wheel" or the angsty, existential "Nothing"... And between them, none of the other tracks disappoints, each one of them tying the whole thing into a neat package. It's like watching the rays of the sun piercing through an overcast sky: you can go through a sense of foreboding while still clinging for hope as you listen to those tunes. It's as if lust, impulse, stoicism and melancholy were all fighting for your soul, none of them ever having the final say or the upper hand. It's both dreadful and incredibly beautiful. Gothic yet naive. "Pop" while still being uncompromising most of the time. When the hectic arpeggios of "Pimpf" conclude the album you're still trying to make sense of it all, even if you never quite manage to put your finger of what this music does to you. This is the sort of mystery that nags you when you open your heart to said music. And this is what makes it timeless, as clearly from its day and age as it is. I've just read someone in here writing in their review that Tears For Fears was to them a better "electronic" band than Depeche Mode... Which, obviously, is a very *weird* take for me. Don't get me wrong: TFF released excellent singles in an admittedly close genre, and they had good tunes on the side, too. But if you compare the so-called "deep cuts" of *The Hurting* and *Songs From The Big Chair* to the ones of *Music For The Masses* or *Violator*, will you find the same spotless layering, or the same level of intensity and/or entranced elatedness? Tell me, friend, what would you write to praise Tears For Fears' secondary ditties as they explore a far less sweeping landscape ? What sorts of words would you use? Would you use that metaphor of sunrays piercing through dark clouds? And if you do, will you be truly faithful to the music? This here is exactly why I think Depeche Mode turned to better "album artists" than TFF ever were, as gifted as the latter were. And it all boils down to the "flow" and overall feel of Gore, Gahan, Fletcher and Wilder's best LPs. Here's an "electronic" ambient tradition that DM took from the forefathers of the genre, Kraftwerk, as different as the British lads were from their elder German peers. Tears For Fears is not so far from this picture, I'll grant you that. But when it comes to essential *albums* they're a notch under Depeche Mode. At least to me. And don't get me started on the disappointing hodgepodge that *Seeds Of Love* is, okay? 4,5/5 for this Depeche Mode LP, rounded up to 5 here. A perfect grade will then grace the masterpiece that *Violator* is. So next, please... Number of albums left to review: 576 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 204 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 98 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

A stone-cold masterpiece. Much has been said about how Gene Clark never got the recognition he deserved for this stellar work, how his label thought the money and ressources spent on it were wasted, and how the album was a commercial failure. The thing is, now that Ivo Watts-Russel, Beach House and other important figures from the music business did what they had to do to give this gem the credit it deserved, we can all go to the next step and herald it as the seventies classic that it is. In a somewhat close genre, this record should have been as big as Neil Young's *Harvest*. Well, now we can all consider it *is* actually as big as Neil Young's most famous album. It's the best way to celebrate Clark's memory, after all. Each track shines in this LP, but I am particularly fond of the four that follow. First, there's the title track, whose sounds and overall mood are incredibly ahead of their time, with its slick synth bassline, its sly groove, and its soulful vocals. This song slaps, even decades after it was released. Equally soulful is the more subtle and yet terrific "Strength Of Strings"--gosh, aren't those backing vocals gorgeous. A little while later, "Some Misunderstanding" provides the emotional climax of the album--a country tune that has properly *cosmic* effects on me. The end of the song just feels like flying over the clouds. I'm shuddering just listening to it now. Closer "Lady Of The North" is my last favorite, with another entranced chorus, nicely supported by the lush instrumentation behind it. Its final wah wah guitar riff is an earworm I could play all day, and I don't think I would ever get bored doing so. 5 stars, of course. Good luck for the album that comes next. Number of albums left to review: 575 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 205 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 98 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

For each album by The Police, it's more or less the same drill. The major singles are legendary, but the deep cuts are... well... very very *deep* sometimes. This one is no exception, even though I readily admit that "Bring On The Night", " On Any Other Day" and "This Bed's Too Big Without You" are good songs. Conversely, the instrumental title track, "Deathwish" or the last tunes closing the proceedings are sort of a borefest to me. And in between you have "It's Alright For You", not so bad but very derivative of former rhythm'n'blues hits, oddly enough. I'm not familiar with *everything* the Police has released, yet I feel like this album is indeed the one to select for those sorts of lists compared to the others, even though it only has two super-famous singles, "Message In A Bottle" and "Walking On The Moon". The debut *Outlandos D'Amour* has three of them, it's true: "Roxanne", "So Lonely" and "Can't Stand Losing You". Unfortunately it also has very awkward stuff such as "Hole In My Life", " Born In The 50s", "Be My Girl" or "Masoko Tanga", so I guess it's not an "ideal" candidate either. And no, don't get me started on *Synchronicity*. As much as I like "Every Breath You Take", that last album, often quoted in best-of lists, leers too much towards the sort of eighties pop Sting would soon release for his solo career. And here another story begins, I guess... To be honest with you, I have a "greatest hits" collection from The Police at home, and I'm perfectly happy with it. With their mixing of post-punk and reggae, coupled with great performances and Sting's songwriting at its best, The Police had every card in their game to help them become a legendary band. But sometimes, legendary bands are better for the singles format than they are for the one of albums. That's life. Number of albums left to review: 574 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 205 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 99 (including this one--it's a 8/10 LP for purposes that are more general than the ones of this list--but when it comes to "essential" albums, it's only a 3/5 one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

Another stone cold masterpiece and probably one of my five favorite hip hop albums of all time. Everything in *Liquid Swords* is pitch-perfect. GZA's lyricism and his deadpan delivery--here coupled with RZA's hypnotic instrumentals--are legendary. The words hit hard, the music is cinematic... To put it in a nutshell, what you have here is hip hop heaven--even if the world it conveys sounds like hell on earth, itching, teasing and even tormenting you like few releases in the genre do. Those evocative *Shogun Assassin* samples are transporting you into another universe from the very first seconds, and what follows never disappoint. To me, this is the best Wu-Tang solo output by a very wide margin, as awesome as Raekwon and Method Man's first solo LPs were. Only the Wu-Tang Clan debut can beat that one, thanks the latter's iconic anthems. And yet *Liquid Swords* is actually more satisfying if you take into accounts the particular dynamics of going through an album in one sitting. The title track, "Duel Of The Iron Mic", "Living In The World Today", "Gold", "Shadowboxing"... They're all gems. "B.I.B.L.E--Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth" is also an exhilarating closer aptly conveying the sort of twisted mysticism only the Wu-Tang collective is capable of. And 'Swordsman" is a slap in the face, with its heavy, HEAVY beats, and its moody orchestral samples. 5/5. "The G.O.D., the G.O.D," GZA repeats. But what he meant is the *G.O.A.T.*. Number of albums left to review: 573 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 206 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 99 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

Even though I generally concur with the review currently topping this section (stating that Dimery's list sometimes focuses on late-career releases from artists who were probably way more iconic when they were younger, therefore taking a spot that could have been used by new blood), I have to admit there were some touching or heartfelt moments in this album. I don't know much about Emylou Harris' output before this 2000 release, but taken out of that context, a lot of those songs still have something endearing and/or memorable to them. Besides, the mere fact that this is the first LP where Harris wrote most of the tunes in it makes it interesting to listen to... Too bad a lot of those ballads are a little too long, however, and that their production values are somewhat unobtrusive and safe. This here is far from the bold statements "late" abums by Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen or Johnny Cash were. In comparison, the sound of *Red Dirt Girl* follows the sort of MOR template that was typical of the early naughts: a little drum programming here, some clean, echo-laden guitars there.. And consequently, some parts of this work didn't age that well... I'll probably revisit this one later on, though, just to get a better hang of the compositions (but *when*? Gosh, it's hard to keep the pace with this thing sometimes, lol). In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: 572 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 206 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 100 (including this one, even though I doubt there will be enough room left for it) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

My musical education started in the nineties, and of course I've been aware of who Sleater-Kinney are since that time, and their importance for the riot grrrrl movement taken in its larger understanding. An old friend of mine is a huge fan of this album, for instance, and I've always loved the reference to the Kinks on its cover and artwork. But oddly enough, before *Dig Me Out* popped on this app, I had never given it the attention it fully deserved. And boy oh boy (or should I say, *girl oh girl*), how excited I am to finally discover it properly. The energy on this LP is just fantastic, earworms abound (whether they come from the melodic guitars or the impassioned vocals), and the tracklisting has the sorts of dynamics I usually love in rock albums. A quick listen might give you the wrong impression that the songs are quite the same, but their respective moods are actually pretty different from each other, Sleater-Kinney always picking up the ball to send it in an unexpected melodic direction from song to song. To be a little more specific... The title track opening the album is as tense as it should be, thanks to its minor chords, "One More Hour"'s vocals are as catchy as its quavers on guitar are enticing, "Heart Factory" is the band's version of a blues cut using nineties quiet-loud-quiet shenanigans to great effects (nice percussion sounds in the background, by the way), "It's Enough" is short and sharp, "Things You Say" has an elated chorus, while groovy and organ-laden "Dance Song '97" foretells what Le Tigre would do a few years later--here referring to another important riot grrrl figure, Kathleen Hannah (more about that later on). As for the last track "Jenny", it aptly closes the proceedings on a moody note that leaves you wanting for more. And these here are just highlights among many others. I don't think there's a single dud in this fantastic record. I rarely give 5 stars for albums I didn't already know by heart on this app. And here I am giving such mark now. So I'm buying this LP right away. And speaking about riot grrrrls, it also gives me the occasion to buy another record by Bikini Kill on the side. Bikini Kill is the first band of Kathleen Hannah, another pivotal figure of that "girl indie punk-rock" movement who would later found Le Tigre, as I said earlier. I've had my eye on that Bikini Kill release for quite some time now, and I can't resist taking it as a companion piece for *Dig Me Out* (at least if I can find a version of it that's cheap enough). So thanks, Dimery and co. Number of albums left to review: 571 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 207 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 100 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

A little lost as to what the term "neo-soul" really entails, compared to usual nineties r'n'b. Maybe it's my uneducated ear, but does the difference between digital/electronic *bland* music and the same type of music recorded with real instruments *actually* matter? Whatever the answer to this question is, "neo soul" feels far less vital than hip hop anyway. Case in point: Lauryn Hill. I love her work with the Fugees, but her *Miseducation* solo album bores me to death, in spite of whatever it was that the critics raved about when she released that solo debut. It's more or less the same drill with D'Angelo and his music. After what I've just said up there about hip hop having the upper hand compared to "neo soul", it is absolutely not a surprise that my favorite track on this LP is the opener--because it was co-written with A Tribe Called Quest's Ali Shaheed Muhammed. Everything else sounds... remote and without any real stakes to me. I don't know how to explain it better. I don't even *care* explaining it--which is probably a first for me. And not a good sign. To put it in a nutshell, this LP is certainly not "horrible" to listen to. But it doesn't scream "essential" to me. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: a little less than 600, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one: I sometimes leave a door open for albums from subgenres I'm not overtly familiar with--I'm only tougher with "middling" listens when said subgenre is more familiar to me, for better or for worse). Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

In every legendary double-album, you seem to have an ugly little duckling, and it's part of their idiosyncratic charm today. It's usually a quaint, foolish cut that borders on being offensive, so "out there" and mindless as it is. In the Beatles' White Album, it's "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da". In *Goodbye Yellow Brick Road*, it's "Jamaica Jerk-Off". Ok, I've just written about the one and *only* truly negative thing about this LP. Because, let's face it, everything else is pop-rock/glam-rock heaven. Seventies Elton John usually slapped, both as a performer and as a hit machine. But this here reaches a whole other level. This double-LP is so good that it feels like a "best of" collection. And it's not only because of its megafamous songs. Of course, there's the "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" title-track, where Elton is so elated that it seems he's flying high over most of his peers. Of course, there's the ecstatic jam of "Benny And The Jets", the poignant tribute to Marilyn Monroe "Candle In the Wind", or the cult rockabilly/boogie number "Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)". But those hits are just just the tip of the iceberg here. You also have that epic 11-minute opener "Funeral For A Friend...", the wry and quite topical "Social Disease" and "Sweet Painted Lady", along with the incredible melodies and lush instrumentations of "This Song Has No Title", "I've Seen That Movie Too", "Harmony", "Grey Seal" or "All The Girls Love Alice"...That road Elton mentions for the title of his magnum opus is paved with gold indeed. Once you take it, you never want to leave, wherever it goes. 5 stars, what else? OK, maybe 4.8 because of "Jamaica Jerk-Off". But that odd ditty/oddity makes me laugh now. So 5 stars anyway. Number of albums left to review: 569 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 208 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 101 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

For a very long time, Belle And Sebastian were my definition of "twee". And consequently, I couldn't really bring myself to give their records the attention they fully deserved. Maybe old age has turned me into a mellower listener, but it's easier for me to immerse in their music now. As "twee" as the latter still sounds to me sometimes. This record is probably one of the two or three "must-have" in their discography (with *The Boy With The Arab Strap* and maybe *Tigermilk* as well). 2006's *The Life Pursuit* is also pretty good, in a more streamlined, "professional" way. The gems on *If You're Feeling Sinister* are "The Stars of Track And Field", "Seeing Other People", "Like Dylan In The Movies", and "Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying". And if you like or love them, you'll probably appreciate other cuts from the band, even the deeper ones. 4 stars. Number of albums left to review: 568 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 209 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 101 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

If that album had to be summarized into one little thing, it would be the chorus of the title-track, a parody of the sort of jingle you often hear in soft-rock / lounge pop radio stations. The effect of such a trick is unmistakably evocative for the listener. Yet at the same time, the line between earnestness and postmodernist irony is somewhat blurred: it all comes from the *pitch-perfect* manner the recreation of that sort of jingle sounds, as if Fagen was here patenting the template of all the other cheesy jingles of soft-rock radio stations that would grace the airwaves for many years to come. The thing is, where is the line between "functional" and sincere music when you do something like that? Donald Fagen, having just decided with Walter Becker to call it quits regarding Steely Dan, was in a decidedly strange place in 1982. The neurotic perfectionism that had mired the sessions for *Gaucho* had taken its toll on him, and yet here he was, being *even more* perfectionist for his first solo LP (see that Wikipedia article about how complex those sessions recorded through nascent digital technology were). The end result of this neurosis would be a long-lasting depression that would see Fagen sit out the rest of the eighties. Quite ironical given how Steely Dan had anticipated some of that decade's most striking musical aesthetics, for better or for worse. Likewise, the intent behind the songs' themes and lyrics on *The Nightfly* is rather ambiguous. Fagen said he used as little irony as he could for the lyrics of this record. But the former Steely Dan just can't help blurring that other line, it's a second nature for him. When the lonesome protagonist of the title-track, so aptly represented through the record's wonderful cover, takes calls from lunatics in the middle of the night, the irony of the situation quickly catches up with him: "Thanks for calling / I wait all night for calls like this". Tell me that's not *irony* about the modern means of communication, Donald, even if said irony is not used for cynicism's sake, and only to depict a very personal take on the looniest examples of the "American" mindset, which actually hearkens back as far as to the singer-songwriter's childhood, when he felt as isolated as that grown-up, titular "Nightfly". Those themes may be loosely considered as "autobiographical", it's true (Donald listened to those sorts of radio shows as a teenager). Yet the way they're handled here does not suggest the mood of a *confessional* record. It's first and foremost "biting", to use the effect that Fagen wanted to avoid when writing those songs. Speaking of that thin line between confession and the irony that might prevent it from happening, the true heart of the title-track is not its chorus, by the way: it's its bridge, where Fagen enters the mind of the titular "nightfly" the tune is about, delving into that late night radio host's dejected thoughts about how lonely and depressed he feels. A lot of the album is actually about that: loneliness and feelings of alienation. At first glance, the opener "I.G.Y." may sound like an optimistic prediction of what the future would look like from the fifties' vantage point, but the fact that this dreamland future filled with space stations and express shuttles under the Atlantic never came to pass brings another layer to those lyrics. The song references '76 as the year all those things should have happened happen--but by 1982 you knew there was no way that future could occur in the short-term run. As a result of this discrepancy between dream and reality, it's the alienation and self-delusion of the song's narrator, here feeling way too optimistic, that ends up striking the listener. And just as other reviewers pointed out, such discrepancy is cruelly underlined by how crisp and glossy the digitally-recorded music sounds. That track, just like the rest of the album, sounds nothing like the fifties. And as a consequence, the nostalgia that is diplayed here sounds like a simulacrum of sorts. Rarely elevator music has been so "weighted" by so many contradictory affects. Except in a Steely Dan record, of course. Alienation is also a theme that runs throughout "New Frontier", whose protagonist attempts to seduce a girl in a fallout shelter, of all places. See also "The Goodbye Look", about an American expatriate living in a foreign seaside resort who realizes he's not relevant there anymore. And irony is strong in "Walk Between Raindrops", Fagen's version of "We'll Meet Again". When you're done listening to the album, the conflation of those picturesque vignettes is nothing short of bitter. This would not neccesarily be a problem had it been Fagen's original plan. But when you read that said plan was to record an album that would be both more "innocent" and straightforward than the LPs Steely Dan had released so far, one wonders if Fagen didn't botch the whole thing somehow. And if this is the reason why "The Nightfly" sounds so unsure in its overall intentions... What about the music, then? Well, just like for most Steely Dan albums, it took me a few listens to go beyond the layers of cheese, and so appreciate how affecting some of the vocal parts, arrangements, instrumentations and jazzy chord successions can be sometimes. Not that those flourishes always work for the best, though. As a matter of fact, and apart from opener "I.G.Y.", the first side of this record still sounds like a huge borefest to me, and I don't even really have the energy to quote the names of those duds--I just know there's an inconsequential cover of a Leiber/Stoller-penned song, plus that oh-so-terribly lethargic ballad, "Maxine", whose jazzy modulations sound so forced and "calculated" that the whole thing comes up as a void and uninteresting *exercice de style* (a threat that looms over all Steely Dan's albums, to be honest--but here exacerbated to the umpteenth degree). Side two, with all those other tracks I've already mentioned in my review, fares musically better in comparison--from the New Wave-influenced (?) synth rhythm patterns of "New Frontier" to the enticing marimbas of "The Goodbye Look"-- even if the record's glossy production values and pristine multi-tracked performances have a potentially "stifling" effect as well, even on the good songs (once again, a potential drawback for all Steely Dan LPs). So here we go. I like the overall "concept" of this record, as ambiguous as it is. I love the cover. But that doesn't necessarily mean that the album works, and that everything in it is "essential", far from it. I'm not gonna echo Steve Albini's harsh words against Steely Dan. But I can understand why someone like him, with very different requisistes when it comes to musical aesthetics, can feel so much contempt for this type of music. My position towards the Dan and Fagen is far more benevolent, I imagine. But it's not because I try to keep an open mind that I'm gonna be sold on *everything* those guys ever did. Thanks for listening to me here. I know you don't necessarily "wait all night" to hear stuff like this. But I appreciate you took the time to listen, though. 😉 We're all "alienated" to some sort of degree. Yet even when you're tackling those topics, the best you can do is to say something that can feel honest, lively or interesting about it. I don't know if I succeeded here. All I know is that, *to me* Fagen only succeeded doing this in *discrete* part of this LP, and not during the whole thing. 3/5 for the purposes of this list (8/10 for more general and "objective" purposes: 5 + 3). Number of albums left to review: 567 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 209 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 102 (including this one--even though I doubt there will be any room left for it at the end). Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

This is a beautiful album. Marianne Faithful's frail voice is moving, you can sense she went to hell and back just by the emotional strength of her performance. The cold-yet-determined synth-driven title-track is the main highlight here, of course, along with two fabulous covers, Shel Siverstein's "The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan" and John Lennon's "Working Class Hero". "Guilt", sounding like a lethargic disco track under valium is also pretty hypnotic. Is the instrumentation in parts of this record dated? It sure is, but such "objective" flaws now add to the vintage feel of those songs. They help conveying what this LP is really about, tunes about old age and disillusion, played under the guise of white, "new-wave" blues. I sort of hesitated between a 4/5 and a 5/5 grade for a minute, but fuck it: *Broken English* is Faithfull's magnum opus, she says it herself. Let her reap the rewards that had been denied to her for too long before this moving album finally came out. 5/5, then. Number of albums left to review: 566 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 210 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 102 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 126

Quick notes on this one: - I'm not denying the historical and cultural importance of the "Planet Rock" single, with its interpolations taken from Kraftwerk and its socially conscious lyrics. -The same goes for "Renegades of Funk", even if Rage Against The Machine did a far better version of it in their *Renegades* album (the one made out of covers). Listening to both tracks again, I was surprised at the way that RATM version and the original actually sound so distinctly *different*, musically speaking. -Turns out Bambaataa has been accused of using his position as community leader to sexually assault a bunch of teenage boys. Those allegations, which came out during the mid-2010s, are pretty serious and believable. And it seems the abuse started as far back as the early eighties. I guess there could NOT be *worse* ways to tarnish the man's legacy, along with the one of the Zulu Nation. I was also appalled at the way some people in that community kept on defending Bambaataa/Lance Taylor some time after those allegations came out. Or the way a couple of bastards even exerted pressure on the victims so that they kept their mouths shut. - Fortunately, it seems that Taylor was then quickly expelled from that group he had founded, and I just hope its current leaders won't make the same sorts of mistake again, at the very least. The Zulu Nation had rather admirable goals, culturally and community-wise. It would be a shame to see *everything* it established go down the drain because of that very sad story. Under that light, I don't really have the heart to explore the deep cuts of this album any further. To be honest, I've only listened to a few tracks from it... Knowing the singles and how hip hop generally sounded back in 1986, I have a pretty good idea of how the thing pans out. Besides, there are only ten reviews in here rating this LP with a 5/5 grade. Seems like I'm not really missing anything here... Hip hop was in its infancy back then anyway. Maturity allowing the creation of more "timeless" full-length releases would only appear with Public Enemy, and then, even more, through the Native Tongues and Wu-Tang collectives. Oh, and there was also that thing called *Gangsta Rap* on the west coast, but that's a story for another time, kiddies... Hard to rate this album. 2/5, mostly for cultural importance? Number of albums left to review: 565 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 210 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 102 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127 (including this one)

The second half of this gem has all the hits that are already in the *Legend* compilation: \"Exodus\" \"Jamming\", \" Waiting In Vain\", \"Three Little Birds\", \"One Love\" (that latter track showing Marley actually covering himself from a time where the Wailers were a ska band, a decade ago). Yet the first part of this record is as important as the second. Topical tracks such as \"Natural Mystic\" or \"Guiltiness\" redefine the meaning of the term \"deep cuts\". That sh*t is indeed... *deep*. And the evocative mood suggested by the sparse instrumentation aptly emphasizes that deepness. I'm not a huge reggae fan, I admit it. But what set Bob Marley apart from his peers was his genius songwriting. It's hard to argue here. You just need to listen to the first verse of \"Natural Mystic\" to feel it, man! Of course, this LP must be on the list. I would also add *Catch A Fire*, the Wailers' first international release (which has subtle and interesting rock crossover details in its arrangements). And I know *Burnin'* is not always deemed equal to those two, but I love the songs on it as well. Going back to *Exodus*, I obviously give it a 5/5 grade. Listening to the title track again right now. That epic jam is... relentless, and it really feels like a modern-day Moses is singing on it. That *Legend* compilation could not have had a better title... Number of albums left to review: 564 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 211 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 102 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127

Being drawn to sci-fi postmodernist literature at the time this one came out, *Myths Of The Near Future* was bound to tick a lot of boxes for me. With a track named "Gravity's Rainbow", how could I *not* spot that debut album? It's a great and lively track by the way, whose lyrics are only vaguely indebted to Thomas Pynchon's magnum opus, thematically speaking. Yet the song would provide great opening titles if a director or a showrunner was bold enough to adapt this crazy mammoth of a novel for a TV series (or for a *dozen* theatrical films, lol). Apart from that track, many other dance-punk songs slap on this LP: "Two Receivers", "Golden Skans", "As Above So Below", "Magick", "It's Not Over Yet"... I was surprised to find out that the latter was actually a cover version of an older dance track after all these years (those liner notes on my own copy of the album are too messy, which probably explains why I couldn't read them properly). Listening to the original was a decidedly *weird* experience, ha ha. Sometimes dated and cheesy arrangements can hide great songs, I guess... Speaking of "dated arrangements", *Myths Of The Near Future* is admittedly very much of its time as well. Yet Klaxons' music was eccentric and original enough to set them apart from the other dance-rock / landfill indie bands of the late naughts. It all boils down to the melodic earworms the band keeps piling up through their elated pop vocals, along with their bizarre synth hooks, rumbling distorted basslines and drilling, noisy guitars. And there are all the literary references sprinkled throughout the album, too. Such literate eccentricity is a plus that makes this record far more relatable than other forays into that overall dance-punk genre. Too bad a lot of people are unable to feel that in the reviews here. To put it in a nutshell, *Myths Of The near Future* is one of the best releases of 2007 (a year where a lot of bland stuff was singled out by the music press, unfortunately). My overall grade for it is 4.5/5, but given how criminally low their score currently is, I'm gonna round that grade up to a perfect 5. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 563 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 212 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 102 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127

Probably Public Enemy's second best album. But given how damn important that rap band was for hip hop at the time--helping it grow out of its infancy stage for good--said album just *has* to be on this list, c'mon! To be fair, *Fear Of A Black Planet*'s back half is maybe a little overlong and patchy, but its first half is as solid as their previous LP. Plus, with all the highlights that you can find throughout its tracklisting, it would be a crime *not* to mention it. Those highlights are raging numbers of course, both sonically and politically. They are "Brothers Are Gonna Work It Out", "911 Is A Joke", "Welcome To The Terrordome", "Burn Hollywood Burn", "Who Stole The Soul?", and closer "Fight The Power" (the latter of Spike Lee's *Do The Right Thing* fame). Oh, and did I mention how iconic and topical that album's artwork is? I don't remember if Dimery's list also included *It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back* and *Apocalpse '91...*. Under that light, I'd give *Fear Of A Black Planet* a perfect 5/5 grade just to make sure Public Enemy appears in my summary, even though it's probably closer to a 4,5 or a 4. Next, please... Number of albums left to review: 562 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 213 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 102 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127

What can I say? This is my favorite album released in 1978, beating other incredible LPs such as Kraftwerk' *The Man Machine*, Wire's *Chairs Missing*, Brian Eno' *Music For Airports* or Talking Heads' *More Songs About Buildings And Food". Of course it's gonna be in my own list. Just like those great 1978 albums, *Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo* is one of a kind. It's totally weird and yet incredibly catchy. Tracks like "Incontrollable Urge" and the legendary "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" cover make for a great start, and later on, you have "Mongoloid" and its bouncy bassline, infectious guitar riff and wry lyrics, "Jock Homo" and its crazy vocals, "Shrivel-Up" and its off-kilter synths, or "Gut Feeling", with its enticing arpeggios and insane build-up. Oh, can someone explain to me why this track is not available on Spotify?--without it you don't have a full picture of the dynamics side two go through! Those cuts, along with the rest, suggest a self-contained universe. A nonsensical one, sure. But one that's relatable once you understand what the band is all about: making fun of the whole human race, and have a blast about it! In a way, this record is a mix of all the other albums I've quoted up there--except *Music For Airports*, but since Brian Eno produced this debut, there's still a direct connection to him here (Eno also produced Talking Heads LPs around that time, which shows how important he was for both New Wave and *No* Wave around those years...) Devolution is also a funny concept that hasn't aged a day, if only because of our current "idiotic" time. Early post-punk has many treasures like that, and his here is one of the most precious one. I wish I had more time to talk about this record today. But I only have time left to give a dumb "grading". 5/5, then. Good luck for the album that comes next! Number of albums left to review: 561 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 214 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 102 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127

Magnum opus with afrofuturist overtones from funk legends who had such an impact that their music was pillaged 15 years later by Dr Dre when he patented the sound he needed for gangster rap. *Mothership Connection* is often silly, but its sleazy grooves are infectious, its instrumentation unpredictable, and its fun factor undeniable. I have neither the time nor the heart to write a very serious review about this record. During the nineties, there was a joke that can sum up my feelings about it: "Who's your favorite sex-crazed leader playing sax? Bill Clinton or *George* Clinton?" I'm team George Clinton all the way, baby! 5/5. May the funk be with you. Number of albums left to review: 560 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 215 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 102 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127

I've noticed something with the 1001 albums app. Every morning, right after I wake up, I check on the app to see today's album, and if it's an artist I don't know or I'm not very familiar with, I listen to the first tracks of said album right away. More often than not, I really like what I'm discovering. But then, when I listen to the album again later in the day, part of the charm's gone. My explanation for this is that when you wake up, your "defenses" are lower, which means it's easier to appreciate music when it's good. You're in a state where you're not overthinking about what you know or what "good taste" or "originality" is. You just go with the flow. Funny how knowledge about music sometimes impairs your ability to truly enjoy it for what it is. Not that I wasn't immediately catching a wealth of references this morning when I listened to the first songs of *Modern Kosmology*: This LP made me think of Can, Neu!, Silver Apples, Stereolab, The Velvet Underground, Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd, St Vincent, Beach House, Broadcast... That latter influence moved me by the way: Jane Weaver sounds a lot like Trish Keenan on some of those tracks, and given that we lost her far too soon, it's as if a gentle ghost was looming over this record. Listening to *Modern Kosmology* again now, I have to say a lot of its charms are preserved, even later in the day. The motorik rhythm of its first track is insane (as overplayed as that rhythm is today, it sounds great here), "Slow Motion" is a nice little earworm, and "Loops In the Secret Society" is an interesting vintage psychedelic cut. Honestly, it's weird to think Weaver is not as famous as Beach House and St Vincent (some of the "modern" references I've quoted up here) given that her overall output is on par with the best records from those two acts. Admittedly, there's a slight slump on the second side of *Modern Kosmology* (including that track featuring former Can singer Malcolm Mooney, which is maybe a little too self-indulgent...). But it's not anything that veers off-course too much, and so nothing that can ruin this pretty neat record overall. The thing is, can I include said record in my list? Do I even have *enough room* for it? Just for 2017, here is a list of albums I find either *as good* or even *better* than Jane Weaver's album (and most of them are not quoted in the 1001 albums book, obviously): Big Thief - Capacity Idles - Brutalism Kendrick Lamar - Damn. King Krule - The Ooz Slowdive - Slowdive Pissed Jeans - Why Love Now Aldous Harding - Party King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard - Polygondwanaland St Vincent - Masseduction King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard - Flying Microtonal Banana Mount Kimbie - Love What Survives Björk - Utopia OMNI - Multi-Task Broken Social Scene - Hug Of Thunder Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Luciferian Towers Thurston Moore - Rock'n Roll Consciousness Fleet Foxes - The Crack-Up Lana Del Rey - Lust For Life Lorde - Melodrama Thee Oh Sees - Orc Mogwai - Every Country's Sun Do Make Say Think - Stubborn Persistent Illusions Cloud Nothings - Life Without Sound Wolf Alice - Visions Of A Life Kamasi Washington - Harmony of Difference LCD Soundsystem - American Dream (Sandy) Alex G - Rocket William Basinski - A Shadow In Time The Psychotic Monks - Silence Slowly And Madly Shines Mount Eerie - A Crow Looked At Me You see the problem I have here? In my own "modern kosmology", you need more than 1001 star positions to fit them all... Giving a 3/5 grade to Jane Weaver here (grading her LP according to the purposes of this list of "essential albums" -- which means 8/10 for more general purposes: 5 + 3). I really do hope I can have room for her. Even though I highly doubt it. Number of albums left to review: 559 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 215 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 103 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127

These are the sounds one of the most important bands of the seventies has very patiently crafted for this masterpiece: "Vroom, vroom" ... "Honk honk" ... "Tick, tock, tick, tock..." ... "Beep beep" ... "Shhhhhhhhh" ... "Vroom, vroom, vrooooooom" ... "Beep, beep, bee-eeeeeeeeeep..." ... "phhhwwtphhhwwt" ... "Click, click, click" ... "Honk, hooooooonk!" And you know what? The proto-electronic music supporting those sounds is so evocative, dreamy and poetic that you really feel like you're riding a car on a highway with Florian, Ralf and their dear, dear friends, driving towards a German sun setting on the horizon. 5/5. Number of albums left to review: 558 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 216 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 103 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127

This is pretty cool, but to be honest I already have a lot of sixties psychedelic rock in my own list, and so I'm not sure The Electric Prunes can make it now. I've seen their name before, and it was nice exploring this quite adventurous album, even if the gap between its highlights and its far less interesting cuts was quite wide in this case. Among the highlights, there is obviously the opener "I Had Too Much To Dream (Last Night)". Three observations about this one: First, that tune is also the opening track of the legendary *Nuggets* compilation, about that overall "seedy" US psychedelic scene (wink, wink). And I have a sneaking suspicion the person who selected this debut for Dimery's list partly did it because they couldn't select that "Nuggets" record, as it is a compilation and not a studio album made by a single act. Secondly, funny how the melody in the first seconds of that track, before all hell breaks loose, reminded me of the one of Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra's "Summer Wine", which was released at the exact same time. Something was in the air, I guess. Unless one of the two writing teams got "inspired" by the other here... Thirdly, I can't help feeling that the working title of this song was "I Had Too Much To *Drink* Last Night", and that impression is so strong that it is even the word I'm hearing sometimes. Seems like the couple of writers who wrote most of the songs for this band had quite strange ideas. See "Try Me On For Size", which has a nice melody, but also potentially eye-roll-inducing lyrics. The line between cute and awkward (or even unwittingly gross) is easily blurred here, I think. These two women could write great stuff (yep, they were women), such as "Get Me To The World On Time"... But it seems a little strange that the Electric Prunes guys were being deemed as inferior songwriters by their record label, to the point that they were hampered in their own songwriting efforts, and that the main task was given to outsiders. Some of the tunes the guys from the band penned for this one are far from being ridiculous, especially "Luvin'". To talk about the album overall now, it's all over the place, and if that sort of thing can work in the favor of certain records, this is not exactly the case here. See the novelty ditties at the start of side B, and, more especially, the obnoxious album closer "The Toonerville Trolley". The other problem is that when it comes to sixties deep cuts (either psychedelic or not), I have the feeling there's better elsewhere. There are for instance the two following albums, already in Dimery's list: The 13th Floor Elevators - The Psychedelic Sounds Of The 13th Floor Elevators (1966) Country Joe And the Fish - Electric Music For The Mind And Body (1967) But those are not really *deep cuts*, I'll grant you that. Yet there's also relatively more arcane stuff that's probably as good or even better than the Electric Prunes: The Seeds - The Seeds (1966) / A Web of Sounds (1966) / Future (1967) -- that latter record being the more obscure of the three, and yet quite an interesting one. The Music Machine - (Turn On) The Music Machine (1966) -- That pre-punk, heavy "Talk Talk" single that was taken out of it is extraordinary. Pink Fairies - Never Never Land (1971) -- Another heavy prepunk LP with obvious psychedelic overtones, this time hailing from Britain. Count Five - Psychotic Reaction (1966) -- this one sounds less "psychedelic" to me, maybe, yet there's something a little sly and unpredictable in it that makes it an interesting listen nonetheless. And of course, if you want to find more psychedelic stuff, you can explore many other avenues, from weird disturbing acts such as Red Krayola to famous rock stars giving a more streamlined version of it, such as The Byrds... Under that light, I'd rather err on the side of caution before including that Electric Prunes debut in my own list. 3/5 following that list's specific purposes of singling out "essential" albums (and 8/10 for more general purposes: 5 + 3). Next please... Number of albums left to review: 557 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 216 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 104 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 127

Here's a little personal story that took place during the nineties, at the time this album was released. In those years, I knew a guy who had ditched or sold all his indie-rock records (that he had bought at the start of that decade) so that he could buy all those expensive drum'n'bass vinyls (most of them "white label", as people said in those years). To give you the overall context, both of us were radio hosts at the local radio. I was listening to all sorts of music back then. He, on the other side, was only listening to "jungle stuff and the likes, and wouldn't discuss any other music styles anymore. He was pretty active: hosting a drum'n'bass show on said radio, DJing in the local bars and clubs. He was a nice guy, but I couldn't help noticing that he sort of looked down upon people attracted to different music styles. You could tell that he was thinking drum'n'bass was the music of the future, and that us proles were out of touch with what was really going on in the world. Oh, the irony. That bloke left town after a few years. I wonder where he is now, and what sort of music he's listening to... Does he still have all those expensive vinyls at home? Did he ditch those to follow yet another "trend", electronic or otherwise? I'll probably never know. To be fair with him, he was not the only one who fell for this drum'n'bass craze in such a extreme manner. David Bowie fell for it as well, for example (there are some good songs on his drum'n'bass-laden *Earthling* album, but there's just no way you can say that record has aged very gracefully). The Mercury Prize jury also fell for it (hence why they gave their 1997 prize to *New Forms*). Forward-thinking people easily embrace new modes of artistic expression, which is a good reflex in itself. The thing is, barring a few exceptions (such as German 'Kosmische' Music in the seventies), one should always be cautious when proponents of a new style label the latter as the "music of the future". It's often a sure sign that very quickly, said music will look incredibly dated... Don't get me wrong, I *like* drum'n'bass, generally speaking. I like this idea of an accelerated breakbeat pattern being the foundation of a dance record. I even own Goldie's *Timeless* and *Saturn Returnz* at home, and if I would never listen to those double albums in a single sitting now, I can still enjoy playing a few tracks from them here and there. I have the same overall feeling about Roni Size's *Reprazent*: The first three tracks are great, and they even go to very contrasted directions, which helps you finding them fresh and interesting. And the iconic upright bass sound in "Brown Paper Bag" is pretty iconic, I remember it from back then. That upright bass thing is a trick that Roni Size uses to nice effects in many parts of his own double album here, along with some sparse (but also subtle) shiny jazzy arrangements. So the album gets off on a great start at least. That being said, let's face it, folks: that record is also long, VERY long. I've just read there's even another LONGER version of it available on CD (and not on streaming services if I'm correct). But honestly, I don't have the heart to look any further. Blame the borefests that a lot of those lengthy tracks turn out to be after two minutes or so (minus an occasional exception here and there). Also, blame those absolutely corny, overaffected female vocals right in the middle of the tracklisting. Those two or three cuts were singles, I hear, and honestly, they're pretty embarrassing. Goldie's *Timeless* had its share of awkward moments as well, including through its use of female vocals, but there was also an epic ambition to his sonic constructions that could help you swallow such a pill. And this is the sort of ambition that is cruelly lacking in the case of the jazzier Roni Size. I understand he's going to a smoother direction here, compared to Goldie. But the outcome of this is that most of his music sounds bland as a result, instead of "groovier". Speaking of "directions", the two last tracks of *New Forms* fare better than the corny stuff found elsewhere on the album. One of them, actually named "Directions", even adds latin/tropical colours to the proceedings, capping this lengthy thing in a satisfying way at least. But at this point, it's too little and too late... Drum'n'bass is (was?) an interesting music style. But I can't help feeling that it's the way it influenced *other* genres, from big beat to rock and jazz, that makes it something to write home about. Maybe it's unfair. But hey, there are tons of non-western traditional styles that are not represented in this list either. Even with 1001 references, you just can't cram in all the music in the world. Number of albums left to review: 556 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 216 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 104 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 128

Pantera got the name of their album right at least. More about that in the conclusion of my review... I kinda appreciated the first two tracks, and honestly I can see why those two highlights were impressive for a lot of metal fans. When it comes to those sorts of dry guitar riffs, I'm much more of a Helmet fan myself, but the fact that I'm making this comparison here shows that I tried *very hard* to keep an open mind. And I can dig bands in the overall metal tag once in a while (Converge, Mastodon, Korn, Deftones--the latter also produced by Terry Date, by the way). So maybe it was time for me to properly reassess Pantera, decades after their heyday... But then, after those first two good cuts, came "Walk". Which, inexplicably, is Pantera's most played song on Spotify... 🤨 Er... What? Can someone explain to me how a so-called "groove-metal" band can have such a half-assed, lethargic rhythm section, one that's actually so devoid of said... *groove*? Worse, I feel like I have become dumber now that I have gone through Phil Anselmo's inept vocals and lyrics: "RE!!! SPECT!!!! ARE YOU TALKING TO ME???!!!" Er... I don't know... MAY!!! BE!!! PHIL!!!! The mere fact that "Walk" is Pantera's most popular song on a major streaming service shows that Pantera fans and I have nothing in common. What follows this (inexplicably popular) low point can be decent sometimes. There's the sort of Tool rip-off that "This Love" is (minus the interesting time patterns) ; or the nicely upfront and aggressive "Rise". But those decent cuts are mixed with stuff that's often as obnoxious as "Walk" is. See "Fucking Hostile", or, most especially, "Hollow", with its cheesy hair-metal-ballad lengthy intro. That song about a comatose friend ironically manages to be as brain-dead as its subject matter. I don't know if the lyrics of this song refer to real events, so I should probably err on the side of caution here. Yet I would be lying if I said I thought the *music* on it was any good. But there's worse, and that is the incredibly awkward "No Good (Attack The Radical)", right at the center of the tracklisting, and making this album lose a whole point all by itself. I'm not even attempting to describe how ridiculously bad the music is here (see what I wrote about "Walk"). The *real* problem is that Anselmo is unable to articulate any cohesive point about race relations in the US, a subject he wants to tackle here without having anything to say that's interesting or relevant on the matter. After all, no one *asked* him to sing about such a heavy topic in the first place. And reading those lyrics, what I mostly understand is that Anselmo actually had very muddled thoughts on this subject. Which may or may not explain how he sometimes had, well... *moments* on stage that still seem quite suspicious to me. Add the man's dumb public stances about rap music, which were equally suspicious, and you have quite an ugly picture here. Oh, and guitarist Dimebag Darrell was a George Bush enthusiast, I hear... No wonder a lot of listeners, reviewers and even fans felt some Lynyrd Skynyrd overtones in Pantera's music. Those were mostly conveyed through Anselmo's drawl, and I guess that's another aspect that worked in favor of the band, because it gave them a "distinct" identity. But let's face it, such identity didn't age very well, did it? Aaaaah, the South...It's a "different culture", if you take my meaning... About Anselmo and his problematic stances and words--onstage and elsewehere--go online to find out about all that. Don't get me wrong, I'm not necessarily saying that Anselmo is a full-blown racist. What I'm merely suggesting here is that he is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, as they say. See also the debacle of his relations with the Abbott brothers towards the end of the band's career. That guy never learned to shut his mouth for his own good, that's for sure. Both brothers are dead today, may they rest in peace. One was awfully murdered onstage by a lunatic with a legally purchased gun--another sad layer of irony about the right-wing ideas that Pantera is often associated with. And what's also pretty disturbing about this situation is that Anselmo can now cynically use the Pantera brand to tour with the band's bass player and two other musicians--something that Dimebag Darrell and his brother were dead-set against when they were still alive. So does Anselmo have any shred of decency left in his bones? It's up to you to decide on this. All of this happened decades after *Vulgar Display Of Power* came out, I'll grant you that. But as I have pointed out earlier, what an apt name for this record! And dare I say, one that was also extremely prophetic, foretelling many sad events to come. Sorry, but I can't have any benevolent feelings about this band. There are too many things in their music and history that sound pretty bad. Or just sad. So next, please. Number of albums left to review: 555 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 216 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 104 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 129 (including this one - with a 1/5 grade for the purposes of this list, which means a 6/10 grade for more general purposes: 5 + 1)

Arguably the best sounding guitar-rock album if you enjoy silly songs and killer musicians going into a full "performative", self-indulging mode. Let me elaborate on that, starting with the "performative mode". Because let's face it folks: what's the real point of "Eruption", apart from telling the audience: "Look how good, how *godly* I am with those six strings"? Yeah man, well, Jimi Hendrix was godly too. The main difference, a *pivotal* one, is that Hendrix's solos, as complex and rich and technically difficult as they were, also told a musical story that meant something in the *overall context* of his songs or live performances. In contrast, "Eruption"' solo is a masturbatory feat that, very tellingly, is placed as an aside, and so, in its own little box. And the fact that this short track is the second of the album only reinforces this sense of containment, oddly enough. Obviously, the "volcanic" overtones of "Eruption" tell the story of an ejaculation, so when I say "masturbatory", I do realize that Eddie Van Halen, God rest his soul, had all that in mind as well. But where a guy like Hendrix stroked and pleasured himself as part of his "lovemaking" to the audience, Van Halen sounds on his own, as if he was locked in the restroom so as to relieve himself from that technical feat that burdens his mind. Maybe this alienated, onanistic overtone stems from the fact that the little story that "Eruption" tells you has no real point. Or maybe it's because the whole intent is very naive, come to think of it. What this solo mostly tells you is this: here's a gifted kid playing with his tool, look how good he is! There's nothing else, no other layer to this thing. Which might have its own sort of immature charm, I'll grant you that. "Immature" still being the word to remember nonetheless. As for the "silly" songs, there's the same sort of line that the band constantly straddles throughout this record, aptly summarized by the ambiguity of the word "silly" in its modern usage. Because those songs are indeed both fun AND ridiculous, both catchy AND obnoxious, both smartly done AND dumb. Gosh, that doo-wop bridge at the end of "I'm the One". Is it genius or slapstick comedy? Can it be both as well? And, OK, I get it guys, "Ain't Talking About Love" has a killer riff, and in itself, it's a great tune. But even that one can make you smirk at times. I mean those "hey! hey! hey!" background vocals are a little dumb, are they not? "Jamie's Crying" and "Runnin' With The Devil" are not too bad either. Unfortunately, once you switch to side B, stinkers abound. I'm not even bothering quoting names of the latter, they don't deserve it, honestly. So Side A could have been a great one, at least, had it not been for that stupid and awkward cover of the Kinks' "You Really Got Me". It's a song I normally love, and the mere fact that some ill-informed, misguided reviewer on this app thought (or pretended) that the song was a Van Halen original makes me want to puke. In a sense, that cover version also tells you that the band was aware that the quality of their own songwriting was not up *always* to the task of equalling their crazy ambition, at least at the time. In that regard, *1984*, the other landmark album from Van Halen, which followed this debut, is both an improvement and an exacerbation of Van Halen's faults oddly enough. Because the songs of this other record are both funnier AND even more ridiculous, both catchier AND more obnoxious, both more sophisticate AND, in the end, ultimately... dumber. You get the idea here, I'm sure. But that's a story for another time, kiddies, at least if Dimery and co. dared including that other Van Halen LP in their list. So in other words, and to put it in a nutshell, *Van Halen* will be the best band for you if you love cheese. And given the number of positive reactions in the reviews here, it's crazy how many people just *love* cheese. I myself usually love it, you know. By "cheese", I mean the real deal here, the food. But I'm French, so that probably doesn't count. :) "Oh, he's a French guy, that explains everything," I hear some of you thinking out loud. Well, if you think my review is a little too *arrogant*, just remember this. Eddie Van Halen started it. You have to be very arrogant to record something like "Eruption". Or maybe, as I've already suggested, you have to be very sincere. And naive. I'm not comparing myself to a properly divine musician such as Eddie VH, obviously. But if there's one tiny little thing I may share with him, it's that what I've just said in this review comes from a very sincere place, as arrogant as it may sound to some. And all I ask, is that you guys can give me the benefit of the doubt, just as I did for Van Halen here. There is indeed something a little *ridiculous* about this LP (another very ambiguous word these days, huh?). And pretending that elephant is not in the room will never be the best way to "defend" it. I dunno, maybe you need to embrace the sheer foolishness of this record to fully enjoy it. You tell me. But as hard as I try to let go, it's not exactly working for me. Maybe I'll buy a Van Halen greatest hits album one day, if it's not pestered by the presence of too many duds, and that's gonna be the extent of my involvement with this band. No big deal. And more power to you if you *can* let go, folks! Now, next, please.

A little rundown about each track from this 1957 album, along with individual ratings: "Oh Boy" is a nice opener. To be honest, I love how the 1950s mindset made it impossible for the audience to perceive how there could be different ways to interpret its lyrics. Pretty sure Buddy Holly himself never understood how said lyrics (and the way they are phrased) could provide the content of a gay anthem today. Am I the only one who could see it, perverted as I am??? A queer band should cover that song, lol. Rating: **** "Not Fade Away" is a gem. Love the barebones production values, and the discreet and charming mood that results out of them. Background vocals are great as well, and the instrumentation is so cool. That double bass... And what is the drummer hitting on to make that nicely subdued sound? His own lap? Cardboard boxes? I wish this album had more tracks like that--animated, yet also subtle and very relaxed somehow. Rating: ***** Conversely, "You've Got Love" is a textbook mid-tempo 50s number that has nothing interesting to it, except that it was partly written by Roy Orbison. Hard pass. Rating: * As other shrewd reviewers noted in here, Buddy Holly sounds like a prototype of John Lennon in "Maybe Baby". Well, everyone knows that's not exactly the right way of explaining how things went... But I get what those reviewers are meaning here (and I'm pretty sure you do too, reader). A very cool track. Rating: ***** "It's Too Late" is a nice ballad that holds its own pretty well, thanks to its acoustic guitars and the reverb on its chorus vocals. This could be played in the soundtrack of David Lynch film, and be background music for a tender-yet-pretty-weird scene taking place in his loony, paranormal universe...Rating: **** "Tell Me How" is another borefest, however. Buddy Holly didn't have songwriting duties on this one. And you know what? The songs he didn't contribute to as a writer are the least interesting ones, generally speaking. I wish those producers of his had not given him so many songs written by others. This LP would probably have been more striking as a result. Rating: * It's nice to listen to the ultra-famous "That Will Be The Day" in context, even though people usually didn't care a lot for the album format during the fifties, and were more interested in singles. One can see why this song was singled out in Buddy Holly's repertoire. Those background vocals are the key detail that struck me this time around. They're doing some pretty weird stuff in the background if you pay a little attention. And the drums are pretty neat, too. Rating: ***** I like the vocal parts of "I'm Looking For Someone To Love", especially towards the end, when it bounces against the rhythm section. Apart from that, this track is just a decent early r'n'r number. Rating: *** "An Empty Cup..." bored me to tears. Predictable 50s ballad, with predictable doo wop background vocals, this time. Another Roy Orbison-penned number, by the way. But I prefer other songs he wrote (for himself). Rating: * Interesting chord progression on "Send me Some Lovin'" at some point, but pretty much the same criticism as for "An Empty Cup...". This one is also on Little Richard's second album. Rating: ** And, once again, I have the same sort of complaint against "Last Night". I like the picturesque image of Buddy dreaming about his lover at the window of his house, though, as he looks upon the stars. It evokes the more "innocent" times of the 50s like no other lyrics on the album. Yet the music itself is pretty bland. Rating: ** Insanely great guitar hook on "Rock Me My Baby", foretelling Beatles-like harmonies, along with future jangle pop acts such as the Byrds. And the *weird*, off-kilter type of background vocals are back as well, which is another asset. This album needed more lively tracks like that, instead of all those lovelorn ballads. Especially on the second side. There's a misssed opportunity here, I have to say. But at least the album closes on a high note. Rating: **** Conclusion: I love half of the tracks, but overall, this "historical" LP is a little hit-or-miss for me, even if you take it back into a 50s context. Speaking of which, here is a dozen 1957 albums I find more important than *The Chirping Crickets* (or at least, *as* important): John Coltrane - Blue Train Little Richards - Here's Little Richard Johnny Cash - With His Hot And Blue Guitar Thelonious Monk - Brilliant Corners Miles Davis - Birth Of The Cool Paul Chambers - Bass On Top Sun Ra - Jazz By Sun Ra Miles Davis - Round About Midnight Billie Holiday - Songs For Distingué Lovers Sun Ra - Supersonic Jazz Miles Davis - Miles Ahead Chuck Berry - After School Sessions So am I gonna include Buddy Holly And The Crickets in my own list? "Maybe baby, maybe baby...". I just need to make sure there's enough room for them at the end, as small as those little critters are... Number of albums left to review: 553 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 216 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 128

I'm ten percent gayer whenever I listen to this synth-pop masterpiece. That's how good it is! All jokes aside, this is an album that should probably be taken far more seriously than its current "critical reputation" lets on. First, this is producer Trevor Horn's Sistine Chapel: the 13-minute+ cinematic extravaganza of the title track is here to prove it. Secondly, fillers are pretty rare here, which is a feat given that *Welcome To The Pleasure Dome* is a double-album: that string of covers in the middle of the record (standards once sung by Bruce Springsteen, Edwin Starr, Gerry Marsden or Dionne Warwick) are always fresh and interesting, and the vast majority of the FGTH compositions stand out as well. There's the steamy hit "Relax", of course, and getting you ten percent gayer is the very minimum said hedonistic anthem can do. There are also "Two Tribes" and that touching-yet-fully-epic ballad "The Power of Love", aptly concluding the proceedings. Yet as good as those highlights are, they should not *fully* divert attention away from the lesser-known "Wish The Lads Were Here", "Krisco Kisses", and "Black Night White Light" towards the end of this record, along with the instrumental "The Ballad Of 32". Those tracks are pretty catchy as well. As a matter of fact, I find those deep cuts catchier and more satisfying in terms of melodies and hooks than 90% of the other synth-pop acts of the time. And I'm including the overrated Duran Duran here, or even Tears For Fears (ar least as far as their non-singles are concerned). So yep, Frankie Goes To Hollywood released an all-time classic in the synth-pop genre, period. And to be clear, punks, anyone who disagrees with me on this can get on his knees and suck my d... Well, only if said oral activity gives you pleasure, *of course*. And if you're nice and gentle enough, I may even return the favor at some point... Jeeze, did I say this album made me "ten percent gayer"? Maybe it's more like 25. 😎 One last thing, the topical overtones of this double-LP also make it an essential listen, and here I promise I'm not kidding you. Tackling the themes of gay liberation, the horrors of war, and the joy and love that communities must try to reach in times of hardship--all of this during the dreadful era of Thatcherism and the AIDS epidemic--is a pretty serious thing. And managing to tackle those themes while conveying the feeling you're having a blast at the same time is a rather admirable achievement, all things considered. 4.5 stars, rounded up to 5 here. Number of albums left to review: 552 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 217 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 128

There are plenty of rappers from Britain with a lot of talent, and I'm not denying Skepta is one of them and that he made a huge impact there. That said, why on earth would I label this album as an "essential" one? Musically, it has rather "barebones" production values, which I get it, was done on purpose to make the whole thing sound raw and authentic. This works out fine on a few tracks here and there, such as "Numbers", or "Crime Riddim (which has a nice... riddim). Nonetheless, and in spite of their rather weird beeps and bloops, a lot of those tracks don't have anything particularly striking to them. Worse, some of the cuts sound incomplete or unfinished, which is quite ironical when you learn how many delays this release went through. To be honest, I predict most of the music on this LP will not age very well anyway. As a matter of fact, the record already sounds older than it really is. And lyrically, well... Skepta has an interesting flow sometimes, but c'mon, some of the rhyming is pretty poor in key parts of this record. Case in point, the title track, where a quarter of the rhymes end with the same little word, "me" (a flaw that also occurs in "That's Not Me", for instance). Ugh. Ego-tripping is an exercise where you need to be sharper and smarter than that. And as far as lyrical hooks, nothing really stands out as well. This thing needs stronger choruses. Without those, the whole experience this grime album offers is a little underwhelming. 2/5 for the purposes of this list gathering "essential" albums, which translates to a 7/10 overall grade (5 + 2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 551 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 217 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 129 (including this one)

Can't believe I am writing a review for a *second* Aerosmith album. This would be fine for a 5000 albums list, not a 1001 one. The first couple of tracks, \"Young Lust\" and \"F.I.N.E\", show the band displaying a lot of impressive energy for a studio performance, I'll give them that. As a matter of fact, most of the other tracks could be given the same sort of compliment: Steven Tyler was in a particularly fine form as a vocalist, for instance, between the sex-crazed inflexions and the daunting two-part harmonies ge goes through. BUT c'mon, as good as Tyler was, and as nicely performed as this album is, this LP is downright *cheesy*. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. I can hear some benevolent listeners telling me that this record was still better than the hair metal albums released around that time. Jeeze, I'm not even sure about that. I mean, \"The Other Side\" has all the bad things a hair metal band has, except for its overall \"sound\", *maybe* (those horns do sound a little fake, though, à la Van Halen's \"Jump\"). Most of the other cuts are closer to a rootsier hard rock, so they fare *slightly* better. But it's a version of hard rock that's so laden with clichés that it quickly becomes insufferable as well. Interestingly, Aerosmith goes for a mock-Steely Dan mode at the start of \"Janie's Got A Gun\" (without their trademark jazzy chords) Yet this direction doesn't help either. Nice crunchy guitar solo in this one, I guess, and a bridge section that's harmonically and vocally pretty tight. The rest is ridiculous, however. And by \"the rest\", I don't only mean the rest of the song, I mean mostly *everything* in the album. On that note, \"What It Takes\", the lengthy ballad concluding the proceedings, is particularly awful. All those cringey \"oo-oohs\" and \"a-aaaahs\", not to mention the stupid scats on it... The band has never been able to beat \"Dream On\" in this ballad mode anyway. I'd rather go back to that, if you asked me to quote an Aerosmith tune. There's no proper end to this review because there is no proper end to this cheesefest either. 1/5 for the purposes of this list , which means 6/10 for more general purposes (5 + 1), mostly because of the performative aspect of this thing. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 550 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 217 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 130 (including this one)

Oh, well, some eighties r'n'b / commercial pop now. Michael's little sister... Those stylistic acrobacies this app makes us all go through... Hmmm, actually, this doesn't sound so bad, at least on the first proper song, the title-track "Rhythm Nation". There are some cold undertones to this hard funk instrumentation that, indeed, could almost be labelled as "industrial", as Wikipedia points out. And interestingly, the end result is closer to Michael Jackson's archenemy Prince than what the "king of pop" was doing around those years. On that note, I've just read that Janet recorded this thing in Minneapolis... Coincidence? And there are also P-funk overtones in that chorus that are pretty effective. Nice opener, at least in that overall genre... OK, more of the same with "State Of the World". I try to pay more attention to the vocal hooks this time, and I have to say I can't memorize anything. Which, basically, goes against the very definition of what a 'hook' is. I still like some of the instrumentation tough, as dated as it is... "The Knowledge" 's introduction is copied and pasted from the previous track, right? And that song then quickly explores Prince's turf, once again. But I have to say that in the realm of spoken-word shenanigans over funk, I've heard much more impressive elsewhere. Horrible gated drums at the very start of "Miss You Much". Trying to repeat to myself: "This comes from the eighties, put all that back into context... This comes from the eighties, put all that back into context... ". But it's not really working. And as much as I can appreciate the Prince influence (blatantly felt through the rhythms and the "Kiss"-like vocals inflexions), I think I'd rather listen to the real thing, instead of this second-tier version. Trying to focus on those atmospheric synth lines in the background (a trick the production team already used on other tracks). I like that sort of thing at least... "Love Will Never Do (Without You)". This is the point where the Prince imitation becomes grating and hackneyed. Layers and layers of cheese. And gosh, this track goes on and on... Hard pass. I can appreciate the good intentions behind "Livin' In The World (They Didn't Make) and its overall message, as naive as the latter is. But the music here looms closer to brother Michael than to Prince. And unfortunately, it also looms closer to Micheal's *worst* musical habits. I thought "Heal the World" was the most insufferable ballad-with-a-message of all time. I was wrong: Michael's sister did even worse than her brother. So I've changed my mind, Janet: could you go back to your previous stride and imitate Prince again? Thanks in advance. "Alright" proves that Janet can't hear me. I thought "Black Or White" was the most insufferable family-friendly-funk-dance-rock-number of all time. I was wrong: Michael's sister did even worse than her brother in this realm as well. Finally, Janet heard my previous request. "Escapade" has the same synth shenanigans Prince loved to sprinkle on his own hits. As a matter of fact, I think I've heard this Janet Jackson hit before. Is it because of this that I find it less obnoxious than the rest? And this even if the major chords of the short bridge section are STILL very obnoxious in my book? About "Black Cat": I thought "Billie Jean" and "Dirty Diana" were stellar examples of the way hard rock could be mixed with eighties funk/r'n'b, and that nothing could beat those legendary tracks. And this time I was right. Janet's attempt to copy that formula is just plain silly. "Lonely" and "Come Back To Me"= fillers. I mean that in the sense that a lot of stuff from this album is pretty bad, but I can still recognize some sort of ambition was displayed for those other cuts, as misplaced as said ambition is. Here, you don't even have that. I thought Micheal Jackson wrote the most insufferable "romantic ballads" of all time. I was wrong: Janet did. For a second, I was under the impression that something different would happen at the start of closer "Someday Is Tonight". Nope: it's more of the same, at least as far as the mood of the two previous tracks is concerned. Nice muted trumpet at the end of this one, along with a few interesting chords. But apart from that, layers and layers of cheese. Can't believe I managed to get through this album. Forgive me for the copied-and-pasted sections in this review. But given how much this record uses the same trick, whether "externally" (with all those Prince and/or Michael Jackson influences) or "internally" (all those songs sounding the same), blaming me for this would take the cake, I believe. Besides, browsing through *Janet* and *The Velvet Rope*, it seems to me that those later albums hold their own a little better than *Rhythm Nation 1814* anyway. At least they're the ones that are still remembered today if you take streaming numbers into account. When it comes to older "commercial" pop artists such as this one here, I generally tend to follow today's target audience, and not the "critics" who gave their opinions long ago, influenced by the trends of their time and/or PR shenanigans. 1.5/5. Number of albums left to review: 549 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 217 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 131 (including this one)

An extraordinary feat and a criminally underrated album that sounds like an all-time classic today. I didn't know who Robyn Hitchcock was before I used this app. Now I stand corrected. I have a pretty busy day today, and unfortunately, I can't write a proper review (I hope the creators of this great app could give us a way to amend or revise our reviews once we're done with the 1001 albums). But here are the words or phrases that would have appeared in said review from me: thrilling / melodic / "I Wanna Destroy You" is a powerful opener / incredible vocal harmonies / feels like an insant classic / the album starts on a very hight note, yet what's great about it is that its many other high notes are very different from that initial one / nonetheless, the whole thing stays cohesive / jangle pop / college rock / post-punk / hearkens back to great moments from the sixties / use of post-punk energy / foretells indie-rock from the nineties and later / perfect guitar lines, angular and yet strongly harmonic / sardonic-yet-often-tender lyrics / lots of specific references to past bands, yet their influence never feels "forced", it is totally "digested" by Hitchcock and co. Examples: Buffalo Springfield-Neil Young for "Kingdom Of Love" / The Beach Boys for "Positive Vibrations / The Cramps (or the early off-kilter rock that inspired them) for "I Got The Hots" / The Velvet Underground for "Insanely jealous Of You" (That viola and the tribute that it is to John Cale! That crazy vocal performance and its tribute to Lou Reed!) / Todd Rundgren or Big Star for "Tonight" / The Feelies or Television for "You'll Have To Go Sideways / Gang Of Four or Wire for "Old Pervert" / The Byrds for "Queen Of Eyes" / Closer "Underwater Moonlight" is a perfect gem / The best anthem about getting older ever written / Perfect, perfect LP / 5 stars Number of albums left to review: 548 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 218 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 131 Oh, by the way: I love how some people in here just can't read (or just click on one link): it's called BONUS TRACKS, you fools! Of course they're NOT gonna be up to the level of the proper album. That's why they weren't included in the first place! But what really takes the cake here is the reviewers who did notice that all those last cuts were bonus tracks, and yet still complain about them, and so give The Soft Boys less than a 4/5 grade as a result. I sometimes think there should be some some sort of "listener's licence" exam that should be taken before using this app... Naw, I'm just kidding, ha ha. But *still*. Guys (or gals). Get a grip. Please.

Def Leppard at the time they were still trying to imitate AC/DC, and coming up short as a result. Some of the vocal lines are incredibly grating. And the guitar solos are hackneyed and trite, obviously. Bland, sterile, low-brow, unimaginative, you take your pick. As for production values, they're on their way to the synth-enhanced hair-metal cheesiness of *Hysteria* here. I gave a 1/5 grade to the latter, but it was honestly a bit tough on my part. Some of the silly tracks on it can be endearing in a tongue-in-cheek way. Which is not even really the case for *Pyromania*. For general musicianship I'll give 5 points to this album, to which I will add one point for the "professional" production values, typical of the eighties. A 6/10 grade, then. Which, obviously translates to a 1/5 mark for the quite *different* purposes of this list of "essential" albums. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 547 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 218 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 132 (including this one)

No review in here can beat the one saying "I kept asking for them to play 'Free Bird' and then they did". Except that contrary to this review, I would give Lynyrd Skynyrd four stars instead of two. Or maybe even four-stars-and-a-half. You have serious classics on that first side. Plus, obviously, that flying critter and its incredibe solo, closing the proceedings at the end of side B. Five stars is out of the question though. Side B is *a little* patchy (except for its closer). And that thing with the confederate flag often shown in the band's iconography (fortunately absent for the cover of this LP), along with some of the lyrics overtones, didn't exactly age well, to say the least. Southern folklore, some boomers might say. Well, when you have the full picture, you just can't fool around with certain things anymore. Fortunately, in 2023, there are ways to address "southern identity" that are not offensive anymore. Or at least not offensive in the sense of "insensitive to the plight of African-Americans". See up-and-coming bands such as Chat Pile or Wednesday, for instance, who love to show the underside of the US South, and yet still display some sort of empathy for the white trash protagonists who live there. But that's a story for another time, kiddies. Number of albums left to review: 546 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 219 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 132

I've always wondered about the contents of Polly Jean Harvey's handbag on this album cover. First because she twirls it like a sling on the video for "Good Fortune", which was pretty hilarious--not necessarily in a good way, but still... good memories. And then, because NYC can be a rough place, and the Bri'ish lass might have felt the need to place some objects that would allow to fend for herself in the city. Maybe even a weapon of some sort. "A pistol", as she says herself. Her mind in all about love, but violence is never far from the picture. They're two sides of the same coin, like the titular "city" and "sea" (the latter never to be seen in the artwork, interestingly). Songwriting-wise, Polly Jean sure breaks out the big guns with the first four tracks at the very start of this LP. But as excellent as they are, "Big Exit", "Good Fortune", "One Line" and "A Place Called Home" are not the only gems in this record. You also need to mention the perfect rocker "The Whores Hustle and The Hustles Whore", "This Mess We're In"--a touching duet with Thom Yorke--, manic "Kamikaze"--which hearkens back to the bluesy riffs of *Rid Of Me*--and, finally, the atmospheric-yet-climactic closer "We Float". Sound-wise, the album is a 180-degree turn from the far more abrasive LPs PJ Harvey had recorded up to that point. There were four of those LPs already: the raw, demo-like debut *Dry*, a *rough* diamond, but a diamond nonetheless; the Steve-Albini-produced--ahem, I mean "recorded"--*Rid Of Me*; and the part quieter, part noisier (and even industrial-tinged, sometimes) *To Bring You My Love* and *Is This Desire?*. Compared to all these records, *Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea" is a more "streamlined" affair, with a production that is very calibrated. No funny business anywhere. At the time I remember being disappointed by those more "mainstream" sonic aethetics (foretelling most of what would occur in "indie" music in general during the naughts, unfortunately). Today, I'm at peace with those production values, however, and I can even understand why Polly Jean needed them at this point of her career: she had just written material that had potential to become instant classics in a certain rock tradition, so Polly and her bandmates Rob Ellis and Mick Harvey (co-producing the album with her) probably felt like they needed to put out a very cohesive LP to give justice to said material. And given how strong the songs are, it works. Plus, the vocal perfomance on this album is spotless, and also helps creating an "instant classic" feel to the whole thing. Harvey had often been compared to Patti Smith in the past, but on tracks like "Good Fortune", her voice naturally reaches the same iconic presence that Smith had for her own classics.. And the constant references to New York in the songs (and artwork) can remind the listener of this connection as well. It all checks out. In *Stories From the City..*, Polly Jean both looks backwards, to the past, *and* forward, to the future. And she draws on a most prestigious rock tradition to cement her status of an artist who's here for the long run, who's here to stay. Hence why that record needed to be here, on this list. I'm giving this album a perfect 5/5 grade. I have also done that for *Rid Of Me* and *Let England Shake*, and if it had been in Dimery's list, I would have done the same for *To Bring You My Love*. Please, Robert, take out one of those convoluted, half-baked late LPs by Elvis Costello or Paul Weller/Style Council, and give one more spot to Polly Jean. I know that *you know* she deserves it. Beware, because if you don't comply, I'll grab that handbag of hers and hurl it in your direction to smash some sense back into your head. Pretty sure she keeps some very dangerous objects in that thing. So be warned... 😀 Number of albums left to review: 545 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 220 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 132

The "relevant reviews" section on the app is pretty long for this album. Loads of other reviewers cliked on that "like" button, either for 1/5 reviews or for 5/5 reviews. Eminem still get people "reacting", more than 20 years after his heyday and commercial breakthrough... And here I am giving this record four-stars-and-a-half, in spite of the dumb homophobia and 8th-grade "jokes" on it. First, speaking merely in terms of "essental" albums, you just can't NOT have this record in the list. Its cultural impact matches its selling numbers, and you can still sense the ripple effects of what Eminem has done here today. And secondly, this record is a hell of a (hellish) ride, musically and lyrically. Musically, this is the apex of Dr. Dré's typical productions from the early naughts, and the Jeff Bass contributions are equally good overall. "Criminal", " The Way I Am", "The Real Sliom Shady" are absolute bangers, but the deeper cuts are all ear candies as well. And lyrically, well... Other reviews in the "relevant ones" section wonderfully explain the whole concept of *The Marshall Mathers LP", its whole "Is he serious? / Is he not?" ambiguity, (some of those reviews even pointing out how said ambiguity tells a lot about the state of 'Merica in those years). I'm not even gonna attempt to add anything about all this, just read those great takes out there. You'll soon understand which reviews are the bright ones. And listen to the album. For me it's just an awesome cinematic experience. And even if it wasn't, Eminem's technical abilities as a rapper is like constant fireworks for me. His hectic pace, his delivery, his outrageous wit at times, his impersonations... Love him or not, he changed the course of rap music with this LP. Hence why he had to be in this list. Number of albums left to review: 544 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 221 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 105 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 132

I was already familiar with "Come On Eileen" , of course... But discovering what this band--mixing blue-eyed soul and traditional folk sounds--had under their belt was interesting. I'm not gonna lie, though: as of now, I'm not head over heels about what Kevin Rowland and co. accomplished in their first couple of albums--as striking as said albums might have sounded to some listeners at the time. I understand the Van Morrison filiation (in case you missed it, there's a cover of the Irish songwriter in *Too Rye Ay*'s tracklist), and I think I "get" the overall artistic intent behind this whole thing. But I still have a hard time finding Dexys Midnight Runner endearing. It's a matter of personal taste when it comes to hooks, chords and vocal lines, probably... Not that the band is "bad", by any means. The horn section in Dexys debut *Searching For The Young Soul Rebels* already gave a somewhat ska-like atmosphere to the whole thing, and made this act sound sincere and authentic--even though I didn't think everything in that debut was *that* memorable. In comparison, this sophomore effort is a slicker affair, and the addition of strings in it was also a welcome development. But then again, beyond "Come On Eileen", I didn't find the songs terrific either, as nicely performed as they are. The first two tracks were pretty good, especially during their harmonic climaxes when the time came to warp things up. Yet I still wish Rowland had spent more time on those harmonic flourishes and other last-minute catchy hooks, instead of wasting his energy on less interesting chord progressions during the bulk of the songs. Most of the tunes meander a little too much in those underwhelming waters, relying on the talented singer's voice and a few short solos here and there (horns or violins). As a result, this record remains stingy as far as "wow" moments are concerned. At least to me. To be honest, I'd rather listen to Madness if I want that kind of overall "ballroom-party-mood-enhanced-by-horns-and-whatnot" (even if the British ska band are far from being my all-time favorites either). There are two different mixes of this album, by the way. Rowland had it mixed again in 2022, because he was unsatisfied with the original version (here on that Spotify link). I kinda agree with him. If ever I return to this LP in the future, that's the version I'm gonna go to. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums (which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes--5 + 3). Next, please... Number of albums left to review: 543 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 221 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 106 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 132

Notwithstanding *Rolling Stones*'s raving review at the time, this here is NOT Beck's best album. Which does not mean that *Sea Change* does not have its share of brilliant moments. "Paper Tiger" winks at Serge Gainsbourg and the string section in his groovy and bass-heavy *Histoire de Melody Nelson*--too bad the song itself is less memorable than its lush production values ; "The Golden Age" and "Guess I'm Doing Fine" are cool country-tinged, steel-guitar-enhanced numbers, but musically speaking, they're almost the same tune (apart from a few different chords here and there)--which is a little annoying given that they almost follow one another at the start of this LP ; "Lonesome Tears" and "Sunday Sun" can boast harboring the most intense choruses in the album, thanks to their angsty minor harmonies (performed on strings for the first and on a piano for the second)--I wish more cuts displayed harmonies like that in the LP ; "Lost Cause" is a very simple break-up song. *Simple* being an asset and not a flaw here--even if it seems there is something lacking at the end of this one ; "It's All In Your Mind" sees Mr. Hansen successfully revisit an emotional outtake from his earlier grassroots LP *One Foot In The Grave* ; "Round The Bend", another cut with a pivotal string section, sounds so much like a Nick Drake song circa *Five Leaves Left* (à la "River Man" or "Way To Blue") that it is even a little embarassing to listen to, as nice as the track is ; as for the faraway acoustic guitars of "Already Dead", they bring an interesting mood to the table--nice but not "essential". The thing is, this record is also a very "glossy" affair, probably thanks to the spacy, reverb-drenched production of Nigel Godrich, of *OK Computer* and *Kid A* fame. I'm pretty sure that for a lot of initial Beck fans, the association between the two men is a pretty good match, but to me, it's not necessarily one made in heaven. See "Little One", a great song in itself, but way too clean-sounding here, stifling its potentially " biting" ingredients. To most fans out there, Beck will always be more endearing through his earlier lo-fi, "patchy-on-purpose", surreal and sarcastic masterpieces *Mellow Gold* and *Odelay* anyway. The "classic", seventies-sounding, *Harvest*-like feel he aims at for this record doesn't exactly fit the postmodernist troubadour that he is at heart (see "End Of the Day", for instance--probably the most boring song in this collection, and the lowest point of the album). And even in that "introspective" mood such as the one displayed in *Sea Change*, Beck Hansen has proven that he can craft tunes that are far more effective overall. Listen to the the DIY, Calvin Johnson-recorded *One Foot In The Grave*, or even *Mutations* (marking Beck and Godrich's first collaboration, incidentally). As intimate and low-key as those earlier records were, they were not "one-note" at all: they had their share of little suprises and welcomed 180-degree turns, which kept them lively for most of their runtime. In comparison, *Sea Change* is very much a one-note affair. And this sort of one-note mode is NOT the one in which Beck shines the best, even though I admit that *some* of the songs in this album have grown on me, finally. So I'll leave the door open for this LP in my own list, and will probably revisit it again. But I doubt there will be any room left for it by the time I finish my list. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" records, translating to a 8/10 mark for more "general" purposes (5 + 3). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 542 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 221 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 107 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 132

Nothing compares to that all-time famous cover of Prince in this sophomore album. The first track, "Feel So Different", has aged pretty well, thanks to its barebones string instrumentation. Yet it's too damn long, like a lot of other cuts from this LP. By the time you finally get to an interesting hook at the end of that opener, you just want the damn thing to be over. Equally long is "I Am Stretched On Your Grave", and this time, the instrumentation is pretty dated. O'Connor and her producers thought that using a classic hip hop loop (borrowed from James Brown's "Funky Drummer"--how original...) as background for a 17th century poem put to music by an Irish folk revivalist... would be a pretty neat idea. Newsflash: the end result is quite awkward--probably because the recipe is lacking key ingredients, such as interesting arrangements and other instrumental flourishes. Anything that could help the tune get out of the self-indulgent zone. Mixing things up--mingling different styles and atmospheres--requires some thought. But it's nowhere to be seen here. Speaking of "awkward", there's usually something wrong with the lyrics as well in this record. Sinead's heart is in the right place when she wants to tackle topical issues between the expected romantic tunes. The thing is, her conversational sort of songwriting often falls flat--there's no breadth, few striking images, and almost no "soul" to speak of. Being "conversational" can yield nice results sometimes, but not in here. You often end up wondering what it is that O'Connor really means to say. Once again, such accomplishments require some thought. Apart from that, "Jump In The River" is a pretty decent rock track, and, well, "Nothing Compares 2 U" slaps, of course. But the rest is either awfully dated when it comes to sounds and moods ("The Emperor's New Clothes", "Black Boys On Mopeds"), or it just drones and slumbers (the three last tracks, for instance, whose titles I'm not even bother quoting...). 2/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general artistry and musicianship overall. Next, please... Number of albums left to review: 541 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 221 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 107 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 133 (including this one)

This record is as weird as endearing. The title track and "Cross-Eyed Mary" set the for quite an original ride for sure, but beyond any "concept-album" pretensions, they're just good pieces of seventies music. The rest of the first side is OK, with a lot of acoustic tracks also evocating a vague narrative displaying different characters' voices. And just when you think that things get a little drowsy come the big guns--best represented by Ian Anderson's flute, oddly enough (what an incredible way to make this instrument shine in a rock act!). "Up To Me", "My God" and its crazy vocal bridge, "Hymn 43" and its infectious groove, "Locomotive Breath" and its heavier riifs, "Wind Up" and its guitar solos... At this point, I do not necessary need to follow the somewhat muddle narrative or wonder what the "difference between God and religion" really means (the supposed "theme" of that second side). The music is good enough. I don't know any other Jethro Tull album, and I'm not a *huge* fan of Prog Rock. But I understand why *Aqualung* was liked by so many people in 1971 and later. 4/5. Number of albums left to review: 540 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 222 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 107 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 133

A quick note about Buzzcocks: given that the compilation *Singles Going Steady*, originally released in the UK, was also the first record Pete Shelley and his band released in the US, I consider it as a full-blown album that should definitely be on this list. I understand why Dimery and co. used a different rationale, and so needed to include their debut album there instead, for example (I wonder if they included *Love Bites* as well--you know, the one with "Ever Fallen In Love..." ). But to me, the case of Buzzcocks is more simply dealt with if you use that legendary collection of singles to show how pivotal this band was. Not that "Another Music In A Different Kitchen" is bad, it's still excellent punk rock with sardonic pop sensibilities. It's just that it's a notch under the incredible tracklisting of *Singles Going Steady*. Number of albums left to review: 539 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 221 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 108 (including this one--but you can be sure "Singles Going Steady" will be there!) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 133

Today, the 1001 albums app made some welcome changes. The font for the numbers in our summary sections is both larger and thinner. I'm no expert in fonts, so I don't know the name of that one, but I like it ( I'm fond of "calibri" and "verdana", for example). And it's not the only thing that's new on the app: if you go to your summaries, once again, we now have the names of our favorite and worst artists at the top of all those wonderful album covers. Yeah, good idea. I wonder why David Bowie doesn't appear there for my own favorite arists, though. Black Sabbath does, but I've rated less album from them than ones by Bowie. Is it because I've rated *Let's Dance* less than four stars? You tell me... But no worries: Pixies, Sonic Youth, PJ Harvey and the Beatles are there, that's all that matters. And I hope Neil Young, The Cure, A Tribe Called Quest and Kendrick Lamar will soon join them. Apart from that, nothing much happened today. Oh, yeah, there was an album popping up on the app this morning, I almost forgot. 🤔 Do I *really* need to speak my mind about this record? Today is Sunday, after all. Maybe I can take a break... Alright, alright, let's do this (heavy sigh). I would start with the understatement of the year: Maybe the production on this LP is a little overblown, don't you think? 🙃 There, I've said it. I hope Muse fans are not too shocked by this hot, hot take. 😜 Let's be fair, half of the tracks on this LP are catchy--albeit with quite a few laughable moments in them, both musically and lyrically. And I can appreciate the wide range of influences inspiring those songs: Philip Glass for "Take A Bow", wide-eyed pop for "Starlight", modern r'nb for "Supermassive Black Hole", Ennio Morricone for "Knights Of Cydonia" (except that Other Lives have since used that latter influence for far better results), plus a little bit of Queen here and there... In other words, it's a bit ridiculous, as nice as those influences are on their own. I know Muse have publicly stated that some of those tunes are tongue-in-cheek "exercises", but still... And the other half of those tracks is just a terrible borefest anyway, not even worth a good laugh. When you listen to the whole thing in one sitting, you're just left wondering if the band is totally naive or incredibly pretentious. But maybe they're *both*. I've just read this LP is not even in the latest editions of the 1001 albums book. It didn't take long for Dimery and co. to realize the sort of shmaltzy blokes Muse had become by the time of *Black Holes And Revelations*. Hence why they needed to go to leave some room to other, more worthwhile artists. And it's exactly why I'm gonna exclude them as well. After all, Bellamy and co. have had their share of the spotlight for a long time. They're incredible musicians and performers, and sold millions and millions of units, I hear. But that sort of thing never meant that a band was really *good* or relevant artistically speaking... So next please... Number of albums left to review: 538 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 221 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 108 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 134 (including this one)

An album so smooth that its front cover slips away from the CD case as soon as you buy it, and all you have left to show on Spotify, Wikipedia and the 1001 album app is the back cover. Also, an album so *square* that in 1996 it was named one of the year's 10 best albums in lists published by Rolling Stone, Time, and USA Today. Number of albums left to review: 537 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 221 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 108 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 135 (including this one)

The title track opening this album is one-of-a-kind, that's for sure. This atmospheric plea to save Mother Earth is a very current topic, and the latter is mostly conveyed through a tearful 10-minute guitar solo. One for the ages. When you get to the band's funk-rock routine right after this impressive opener, the transition (or lack thereof) is a bit jarring, to be honest. But fortunately, "Can You Get To That", "Hit It And Quit It" and "You And Your Folks, Me And My Folks" are excellent cuts. Their vocals are fun and soulful, and the rough edges of the instrumentation bring a lot of life to the proceedings. This LP loses steam a little on the second side, though. And that rather self-indulgent jam at the very end (ten minutes that are less stellar than the ones of the opener) prevents me from giving Funkadelic a perfect grade 4,5/5 stars, mostly for the record's first side and its historical importance for African-American music. Feeling generous today, so I'm gonna round up that mark to five. If you asked to me choose between team Bill Clinton and team George Clinton, I know for sure which horny sax player I would pick. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 536 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 223 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 108 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 135

"It's a family affaaai-iiir... It's a family affa-ai-ir..." Damn. What a moody album. The first time I lstened to it, a few years ago, I didn't know what to make of it. With its drum machines, subdued grooves and quite despondent atmosphere, *There's A Riot Going On* is so different from *Stand*... Yet this LP grew on me after several listens. It has a bold mix of sleaze, tenderness and paranoia that makes it one-of-a-kind, and listening to the end result today is probably as intriguing and fascinating as it was in 1971. 31. This here is not my grade for the album, it's me counting the "suns" on that flag. (what an iconic cover). But hey, you already know how many stars I gave to this thing... Next please. Number of albums left to review: 535 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 224 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 108 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 135

"Girl, you know how to make my cookie crumble, my cookie crumble When you hold me close and do all the things you do to me Ooh-wee, baby Just like some good old Kentucky Fried Chicken And all of it was good enough to be finger lickin′" Poetry. It rhymes. Sort of. "Secrets" is so bad that it's probably the reason Spotify refuses to play it, just in case users unsubscribe from their premium accounts in protest. And the obnoxious music that's played behind those lyrics is even *worse*. Everything in this song is a dumpster fire. The same goes for "Stand Up", a subpar version of Parliament/Funkadelic shenanigans. It's, like, a "clean" version of them. Which is quite a nonsensical idea. You can feel Womack grabbing at everything at hand around him so as to sell unit shifters. His label must have been pleased. But decades later, I'm not. Conversely, "So Many Sides Of You" and "If You Think You're Lonely Now" are OK. The bass on the first sounded familiar, as did the vocals on the second. Maybe those songs inspired others that i know (or the other way around). Whatever the case may be, the overall mood for those cuts sounded *right*. Unfortunately, you can't say that for the other tracks.The other songs are just boring (except for the two dumpster fires I mentioned earlier, lol). And the production values have not aged very well. Another example of the artistic dead-ends the eighties led so many great musicians to. So next, please. Number of albums left to review: 535 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 224 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 108 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 135

Take a slice of Nirvana, cook it in a Britpop sauce (part Blur, part Oasis), sprinkle with abundant portions of psychedelia and early 2000s garage rock (à la The Strokes), and what you get is a predictable "indie" success at the time this one came out. The thing is, none of those great ingredients gel or interact in any sort of cohesive or satisfactory manner in *Highly Evolved*. I felt it at the time, and I feel it even more now. Worse, there are quite a few embarassing moments in this LP. The verses of "Factory" sound like Paul McCartney circa 1975 playing a ska song. Should I really need to say more? I mean *really*??? Two things ruin this record overall: first the transitions between the different sorts of songs are absolutely jarring. Sometimes topsy-turvy albums have their charms. Here, unfortunately, the stylistic 180-degree turns are just awkward. Yet the *real* problem is that the songs are themselves pretty lame, even taken on their own. The chord successions are unoriginal and predictable. The compositions are boring. Long tracks have grating vocal lines that meander aimlesly, and short tracks feel half-cooked. Only the rockers "Get Free" and "Highly Evolved" are fully enjoyable--mostly through the energy that's displayed in those Nirvana and The Strokes rip-offs... Too bad those two decent cuts are not enough to save this record from disaster. On their strength, I could have been led to believe the album was somewhat even remotely interesting. Glad I didn't fall into that trap at the time. And also glad that I could listen to that thing again. Sometimes, as you get older and broaden your tastes, you end up changing your mind about some acts. But not in here, and not me. 1/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums. Which translates to something between a 4/10 and a 6/10 grade for more general purposes, such as assessing the hard work made a professional band. Hey, it's still better than the 1 or 2/10 mark I would give to Limp Bizkit, at least. Next please. 😏 Number of albums left to review: 533 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 224 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 108 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 136 (including this one)

Robert Dimery probably dreams about this at night sometimes. He wants to write a new book. His editor and him agreed on a project, Robert has received a nice sum as an advance, so he turns his computer on and starts writing the title of his new project: *1001 ELVIS COSTELLO Albums You Need To Listen To Before You Die*. A nagging feeling of suspicion suddenly grabs Robert. He checks his notes again and again. Something's terribly wrong. He checks again, a horrified expression on his face. It seems like Elvis Costello has recorded a respectable number of records, it's true, but they're still far less that 1001! That's when Robert jumps and sits up in his bed, his breath cut short. What a horrible nightmare. --------- Changed my mind on *This Year's Model* and *Armed Forces* and will now include them in my own list (one of the very, very rare cases where I don't stand by a review I wrote since I've started to use this app). But it's as far as I'll go to follow Dimery and co.'s literal *obsession* with Elvis Costello (a running gag that has been noticed by a lot of reviewers in here, eliciting quite a few smirks in reponse). *Blood And Chocolate* has some very good moments (example: "I Want You"), but it's too patchy to be included in my own list. "Imperial Bedroom" is too damn chatty. I don't remember the name of that later album from the nineties, but I do remember it was a borefest. And this debut album here sounds very much like an early rock'n'roll pastiche, making it very hard to take it seriously. "Watching The Detectives" is a nice single, though, a reggae track with punky overtones pretty close to what The Police was playing around those years--even if Costello brings his own spin in that formula. But that good song is not enough to mitigate the overall feeling of boredom the rest of this LP inspired me. It's certainly not the worst record ever selected in Dimery's book, so maybe my grade is a bit harsh here--keep in mind that it translates to a 6/10 grade for an assessment that's not related to the purposes of selecting "essential" album (5+1). Let's just say that my 1/5 grading is also a way for me to protest about the fact that at least three slots in the original list could have been given to other artists. Have I forgotten an Elvis Costello album mentioned in the 1001 albums book, by the way? I probably have. Maybe it's my turn to have nightmares about the man with glasses... In the meantime... next please. Number of albums left to review: 532 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 224 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 108 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 137 (including this one)

Love most of Inflo's work as a producer for Little Simz or Michael Kiwanuka. He's a very prolific artist, so it's hard to keep track of everything he does, especially with SAULT, his most personal project. Out of his many albums under that moniker, *(Black Is)*--along with its twin brother *(God)*--is probably the most striking thing the man has released so far, and this during a very pivotal moment of the BLM movement--whose necessary agenda is evoked or hinted at in quite a few moments of this topical record. Musically, Inflo keeps everything smooth and restrained by only adding as few layers as he can in the songs' instrumentation. A funky drum pattern here. A rhodes keyboard there. A few simple synth lines. A groovy bassline. Dignified and inhabited vocals from Cleo Sol... The end result is a very *moody* album, whose barebones production values always hit the intended mark--at least of you ignore a couple of short missteps that never detract you from the whole picture. Among the highlights, there are "Stop Dem" and "Hard Life", cuts that hearken back to 60s and 70s soul music, plus "Wildfires", whose music is as moving as its lyrics--lyrics that are clearly referencing George Floyd's murder, but also all the similar tragedies that occured before it. As for "Bow", it is an exciting example of what Inflo can do when he explores territories inspired by afro-beat (Kiwanuka's help on this one is a plus, of course). And there's also the mesmerizing "Black", basically an instrumental with a few vocals here and there, alternating between a repetitive loop over a trap pattern, a bridge sounding as if it had been borrowed from a Stevie Wonder song, and a jazzy and angular guitar solo... After a few middling tracks at the center of the album, SAULT finds greatness again with the incredible "Monsters", a track as poetic and topical as it is catchy. After that, "Miracles" references sixties soul again, with enticing doo-wop background vocals. "Hold Me" sounds a little more modern, but "Stay Up, Pray Up" closer the proceeding on a vintage note again, and this to great effects. All in all, a good record. I just wish Inflo had only used all the best cuts out of *(Black Is)* and added the few highlights of the (unfortunately) less restrained *(God)* so as to create a truly stellar album. Self-editing is not his strong suit, I've already noticed that for his work with Little Simz. But maybe I'm splitting hairs here. 4/5. Next please. Number of albums left to review: 531 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 224 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 109 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 137

This one was a hidden gem for a long time. Now it's universally recognized as the masterpiece it always was--well, except for a few reviewers in here, evidently tone-deaf whenever essential records from the sixities pop up in this app. I have a feeling those folks are more interested in sound than in good songwriting... But maybe I'm wrong. That said, a 3.47 score is not too bad, especially compared to the ones of the smaller fry often mentioned in Dimery's book... Don't get fooled by this psychedelic cover, by the way. *Odessey And Oracle* is indeed best understood and appreciated if you put it where it truly belongs: in the realm of a *chamber pop* that's not too far from the second stage of The Kinks discography. Except that The Kinks never released such an impressive LP, as excellent as their own foray into that genre were overall. Telling the tale of an prison inmate soon to be released, "Care Of Cell 44" is an amazing opener, whose rousing chorus is one of the best ever penned by an act from the so-called "British Invasion". Rod Argent and Chris White had a thing for sophisticated modulations in their choice of chords sequences, also exemplified in the tender "A Rose For Emily" and "Maybe After He's Gone" after that first track. Yet such choices never feel "forced", on the contary, they always feel earned and "natural". Plus, the instrumentation is pristine, between the subtle touches of Mellotron and the Beach Boys-like backing vocals. Next is "Beechwood Park" a very atmospheric piece that could remind you of a Moody Blues outtake--it would sound great as a soundtrack for a flick taking place between 1965 and 1670, for instance. Nice Hammond organ on that one, too. "Brief Candles" starts like an innocuous ditty displaying novelty overtones. But once again, The Zombies' flair for off-kilter chord sequences takes the whole thing to another level. Speaking of great chord sequences, "Hung Up On A Dream" is an instant classic, between its incredibly moving vocal lines, its adventurous bridges and its wealth of hooks on both guitars. Not to mention those Mellotron sounds, once again. This song is probably one of my top-ten favorite tunes from the sixties, and to be honest, I'm surprised by the small number of reviewers singling this one out in the reviews section. C'mon guys and gals, give this earworm another chance, I'm sure you'll thank me later! "Changes" opens side two on a quite different note, mostly relying on an elated-yet-oddly-distant group singing and a flute sound probably played on the Mellotron as well. Not as impressive as the other songs, but its place in the tracklisting, right after the wonders of "Hung Up On A Dream" makes sense: it's as if you were slowly waking up from said dream. "I Want Her She Wants Me" hearkens back to the Zombies' previous recordings, with a more upbeat sound that fits the early years of the British Invasion. A nice tune, even if it's far from being the best of the bunch. Fortunately, "This Will Be Our Year" follows, and even if its style is a little quaint and unobtrusive, this one has another memorable vocal line that makes it a miniature classic. "Butcher's Tale" is probably the most "psychedelic" song here, albeit one crossed with a traditional sort of tune, mostly played on an accordion (!). What a weird choice for a single. Yet at this point of the LP's tracklist, the mystical undertones of its chorus brings a lot of unbridled energy to the album. Some parts of the vocals are off-key, by the way, but that is actually an asset here--giving a spontaneous, lively and emotive air to a cut that could have passed as weird-for-its-own-sake had it been performed differently. And here we are at the end of this album. "Friends Of Mine" is very *flower power* and naive, and is probably one of the least interesting cuts. But who cares, because it's merely a transition leading to the only official "hit" in this record, "Time Of The Season", whose rhythm section using breathing sounds and handclaps is one of the grooviest and sexiest thing I've ever heard in my life. And there's also a Stax/Motown undertone to the song's lead vocals that brings the last ingredient this space-cake-of-an-album surely needed: some "soul" influences. Sure, said ingredient comes at the eleventh hour. But the mere fact that it doesn't sound out of place after all the other tracks shows how cohesive this record actually is. Cohesive and yet one-of-a-kind. 5/5, of course. Next please. Number of albums left to review: 530 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 225 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 109 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 137

A key Joni Mitchell album (along with *Blue*, *Hejira* and *Ladies Of The Canyon*). This one here is the record where Mitchell starts to dive into jazz territories via pop music (a jazzier direction she will then refine again for *The Hissing Of Summer Lawns* and *Hejira*). But most of all, this album harbours some of the very best tunes Mitchell ever wrote and performed (like "Help Me", "Free Man In Paris" or "Car On A Hill"...). Some transitional albums are not "essential" but this one truly is--if only because the tunes are as catchy as their instrumentation and arrangements are sophisticated. But it's not because Joni's craft is unique that she can't have fun along the way. Case in point, "Raised On Robbery", a refreshing rocker. But there's also that cover of a skat standard at the end, "Twisted". Lots of reviewers on this app complained about this one. C'mon, gals and guys, this here is just a little joke to close the proceedings. Where's your sense of humor, damn it? Number of albums left to review: 529 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 226 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 109 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 137

All style, no substance. Mediocre songs played by a mediocre band. And they're not even cool in a tongue-in-cheek way. Found on the Wikipedia page about the band: "Although musically closer to traditional rock n' roll and punk, Hanoi Rocks has been cited as a major influence in the glam metal genre for bands such as Guns N' Roses, Skid Row and Poison." That sure explains a few things. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 528 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 226 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 109 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 138 (including this one)

An essential album for all fans of The Jam. For everyone else, the stakes are rather low-key during the first two very similar-sounding tracks. But Paul Weller and co. nicely build up things from there: "Mr. Clean" is an effective pop-punk cut, "David Watts" is a lively cover of a Kinks classic, and "English Rose" is a elegiac, starry-eyed love song whose delicate acoustic guitar and hushed vocals give you the feeling you're lying in the grass at night, watching the milky way next to your better half. And "In The Crowd" is convincing as well, especially its surprisingly psychedelic guitar solo at the end. This record is the one in which The Jam broadened their palette, and as it can be heard on its first side, it was mostly for good effects at the time (or good "sound affects", I might say). The first part of side two is less impressive, though. "Billy Hunt" returns to more expected punk-rock territories, but feels rather functional after all the adventures on side one. And "It's Too Bad" and "Fly" are naive pop numbers that are a little bland, even though the guitar hooks in the latter are good. Peaks are to be seen again after that short valley, fortunately. "The Place I Love" and "A-Bomb On Wardour Street" are punky cuts that fare slightly better than the ones before. And "Down In The Tube Station At Midnight" is a closer that fares exceptionally well, thanks to its enticing background vocals and lush guitar needlework during its conclusion (is that a synth that I hear as well there?) *Setting Sons* and *Sound Affects*, the LPs that will follow that one, are pretty good albums as well, by the way--even if the latter is where Paul Weller's blue-eyed soul phase started, with increasingly patchy results as his career went on. But I guess that's a story for other times, kiddies. Number of albums left to review: 527 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 227 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 109 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 138

Found on Wikipedia: 'In 2012, journalist Daryl Easlea said the album was crystallized as Trent's moment, "a soundtrack to the turning point when the 80s turned from austerity to prosperity. It's as central to that decade as the much-seen image of the city trader waving his wad of banknotes to the camera. It remains one big, infectiously glorious record."' If this is the sort of thing this album evokes to "music experts" decades later after its release, then it fully deserves the one-star grade I would have given it even if I had not read that ridiculous comment. Wave your wad of banknotes someplace else. The production values of this LP have aged horribly, even if you follow the standards of commercial music during the eighties. Worse, Terence Trent D'Arby are extrememly grating for the most part. So, next, please. Number of albums left to review: 526 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 227 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 109 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 139 (including this one)

An important figure for early hip hop, Queen Latifah is a skilled artist who can bring a lot of power and emotion to her flow (as objectively "dated" as said flow is on this debut album). So I'm not surprised to see her in this list. Plus, the feminist themes in most of these cuts can't hurt. When I was a teenager, in the early nineties, I was exposed to a lot of rap albums, but not to this one. I suspect misogyny played a part in this. And I'm glad this mistake is corrected now. Lyrically, Latifah's assets lie more in her earnestness and sincerity than in her witticisms (although there are some of them here and there). But it's her strong delivery that sells the whole deal. Her tremulous vocal inflexion on the word "dance" in "Dance For Me", for instance, deserves a whole paragraph by itself. It suggests a rage that's channeled to convey positive energy, oddly enough, and rarely has a single syllable been so moving and effective in a song. Being a queen, Latifah is a commanding presence for her audience. And this is the story this perfect opener tells us. Musically, "All Hail The Queen" has all the earmarks of the late eighties, though. And as a consequence, the line between greatness and clear missteps that don't hold their own today is rather clear in it. The pun in the title of "Come Into My House" is as bad as said House music displayed throughout this overlong track, for example. Likewise, the lengthy "The Pros" and "Princess Of The Possee", are basically bad reggae/ragga. And there's the amorphous "Inside Out", a weird closer with a strangely atonal vocal hook for its chorus... Everything else goes from good to great, fortunately. "Ladies First" (featuring Monie Love) is a nice hit, but it's not even the best of the bunch. Knowing a little about hip hop history, I had certain expectations about how the music from this LP would sound, and I have to say that a lot of those productions by DJ Mark, Prince Paul and others actually *exceeded* my expectations. So I was pleasantly surprised. A lot of the jazzy samples of horn sections are one-of-a-kind, with original flourishes here and there ("Latifah's Law", "A King And Queen Creation"...), and some of the rhythm patterns bring their lot of surprises that make them still sound fresh decades after they were produced (see "Dance With Me", once again). "Wrath Of My Madness" is also pretty good--with a short ragga hook that makes sense this time. But the absolute gem in this LP is found in the middle of the patchier side two. It's "Evil That Men Do", a track produced by KRS One (with a short vocal cameo from him). Sampling are kept to a strict minimum in this one, and most of the power of that awesome cut comes from the addition of Latifah's voice to a drum pattern whose snare is so distorted that it sounds like a far more recent production. Interesting and visionary. 3.5/5 is my overall grade for this LP, but I'm gonna push it to a 4/5 mark. Not sure I'll have enough room in my own list to include this hip hop record clearly indebted to its original time and place. But I would sure be happy if I have said room for it. As another reviewer rightly said here, it's not because something is "dated" that it can't bring interesting perspectives about current issues--and the empowerment of women is still a very current issue indeed! Besides, and even more than this, it's not because something is dated that it can't bring you fresh emotions. What's acceptable for rock should also be acceptable for rap. Number of albums left to review: 525 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 227 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 110 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 139

So, what's your choice? Bowie's mix at the time this album came out? Or Iggy's during the nineties? As far as I'm concerned my preference goes to Iggy's mix overall, even though I prefer Bowie's work for the slow-burner "I Need Somebody" and the devilish boogie of "Shake Appeal". Yet as great as those two cuts are, they're not exactly not the one that made this record legendary anyway. The legendary cuts are "Search And Destroy", "Gimme Danger", "Penetration", the title-track and "Death Trip". And only Iggy's mix can enhance how wild those songs (and The Stooges' performance for them) are. The mere fact that some "audiophiles" complained about the levels of distortion triggered by that new mix tells you everything you need to know about the people who don't really get what "punk" means. And, in this case at least, what it all means is that good art must be f*cking *unreasonable* to make an effect sometimes. If you're not getting that, why should you be interested in the Stooges in the first place? I mean, *seriously*?!! True, the Asheton brothers also said that they prefered David Bowie's original mix over Iggy's rework (and given that Ron Asheton hated Bowie's guts, you can't blame him from letting personal feelings get in the way). I would tend to think that years of substance abuse might have damaged the two brothers' minds, but what do I know? Not that it matters much. This incredible third LP by "Iggy And The Stooges" is the magnum opus of James Williamson anyway, at least musically speaking. The man had followed Iggy to England, and stolen the guitarist position from Ron (who took over bass himself following David Alexander's demise). So you just can't expect said Ron to have a clear view about this LP given the circumstances. Whatever happened behind the scenes, nothing changes the fact that this record is fantastic. The Stooges' debut was great garage rock harbouring a string of timeless songs ("I Wanna Be Your Dog", "1969", "No Fun"...), and *Funhouse* was a hectic exercise in channelling free form and chaotic impulses to create relevant art. Nevertheless, "Raw Power" is even better than those two gems. Its proto-punk/hard rock sound, the catchiness of its varied tracklisting, and the sexual angst it conveys make it a essential album if there is one, period. And once again, Iggy's mix enhances such aggressive qualities to make it pack a punch across the ages. In the case of "Gimme Danger", it's not even a mere remix of the same original tape tracks. The song's climax--along with Iggy's crooning between two yelps--are actually different from one version to the next. And it took me this app to pay attention to such details, as I compared the two versions. Not that the original mix was bad per se, it was just a little "thin". Bowie's heart was in the right place, he wanted to streamline the whole thing to make it fit with the commercial success of that glam-rock scene he was a part of. But only Iggy could truly understand what those songs really meant, and this beyond past and future trends. Hence why he found and used other vocal tracks, probably dismissed at the time (along with some other guitar tracks?), so that the song soars just as it was supposed to when it was originally recorded. Rarely has hard rock or punk felt so... traumatic. And also *romantic*, in the original sense of the word. Rarely has an acoustic guitar (the one opening this tune) sounded so much like a damn barbed wire. And rarely has a plea to your lover felt so orgasmic... And this is just one cut from this terrific record I'm talking about here. You also have "Search And Destroy"'s iconic and thunderous guitar riff, "Penetration"'s sleaze (plus its sly celesta emphasizing Iggy's lurid words with a sonic wink to the audience, just as the latter states that he's the one being symbolically penetrated here, and not the other way around), along with "Raw Power"'s violent urges and "Death Trip"'s apocalypse. With such gems, this record is probably as important as The Velvet Underground's debut or anything by that punk scene the band inspired years later. I'm short on time to properly finish this review (more on that later on), so for once I'm gonna copy-and-paste something found online: the "Legacy" chapter from the album's wikipedia page... ' Raw Power has been credited by many sources for pioneering punk rock, although Paste magazine's Lizzie Manno adds that it has "also been cited as a major influence on heavy metal and hard rock". According to Ted Maider of Consequence of Sound, Raw Power is "by far the most important punk record ever", while Diffuser.fm writer James Stafford said, "One can make a reasonable argument for whether Raw Power or its predecessor, Fun House, lays claim to 'first punk record' status." DIY's Jonathan Hatchman wrote, "Above all, the reason that Raw Power should be regarded as, at least, one of the greatest punk albums of all time, is the influence it has provided. Without it, punk may have never even happened." Steve Jones from the Sex Pistols once claimed that he learned to play guitar by taking speed and playing along to Raw Power. Johnny Marr of The Smiths cited it as his all-time favorite record: "It gave me a path to follow as a guitar player. It was an opening into a world of rock & roll, sleaze, sexuality, drugs, violence and danger. That's a hard combination to beat". He has also commented on James Williamson's guitar playing on the album: "I'm his biggest fan. He has the technical ability of Jimmy Page without being as studious, and the swagger of Keith Richards without being sloppy. He's both demonic and intellectual, almost how you would imagine Darth Vader to sound if he was in a band." Talking more about the album, Marr considered Iggy Pop "as the greatest rock'n'roll singer of all time". Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth said that it was one of the albums that shaped his life and music: "that record sliced my head off. The aggression and psychosexual imagery were really mysterious and alluring. In a way, it brought me into all those other aspects of music and literature that were really intriguing, like William S. Burroughs and the Beat Generation." Singer and guitarist Kurt Cobain of the band Nirvana wrote in his Journals numerous times that Raw Power was his favorite album of all time. In his list of the top 50 albums he thought were most influential to Nirvana's sound entered in his journal in 1993, Raw Power appears in the number one slot. Henry Rollins of Black Flag has "Search & Destroy" tattooed across his shoulder blades. He has said that Raw Power is his second favorite Stooges album (after Fun House), calling it "America's greatest contribution to the hard rock scene", to compete with the "Stones, Zeppelins and the Deep Purples". Former Smiths frontman Morrissey once described "Search and Destroy" as "great" and "a very LA song". Mötley Crüe founder Nikki Sixx has cited it as a major influence: "When I was fifteen years old, I remember Iggy and the Stooges' song 'Search and Destroy' reaching out from my speakers to me like my own personal anthem." "I got into the heavier guitar stuff I was going through that adolescent anger thing. It’s a common story but mine was also fuelled by a father and a mother that were gone, and not really knowing where I fit into society. That song really connected with me". Guitarist John Frusciante of Red Hot Chili Peppers also praised the record: “when you think about all the ways bands these days try and expand rock and roll, most of them look pretty silly next to Raw Power. That is a definitive statement". CeeLo Green cited Raw Power as one of his favorite albums, stating that it "seems like it's all done in one take. 'Let's do that one, leave it, just try something else'. With his energy on stage, it seems as if the studio was just destroyed after that album – or at least you'd like to believe that". ' As I said before, I'm short on time and must call it quits now. Believe it or not, just as I was listening to *Raw Power*, a huge storm occurred and lightning struck, triggering a power failure. The blackout has lasted for hours now, so I had to switch from a hi-fi system to my phone so as to finish listening to the album. And now I'm almost out of battery... This is what this album does to me. It's as intense as lightning and it can drain me until I can't go on anymore. Call it a sign. I'm out now. 5/5, of course. Number of albums left to review: 524 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 228 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 110 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 139

Oddly enough, I was more team Sebadoh than team Dinosaur Jr. during the "alternative" nineties (Sebadoh's Lou Barlow played bass and sang in Dinosaur Jr. before he was fired from the band). Jay Mascis's songs had too many guitar solos for my snobbish tastes at the time, even if I now recognize Dinosaur Jr.' importance, especially since Barlow reintegrated the band. But to be honest, I've always prefered Sebadoh's organized chaos, emphasizing fully democratic values within the band. And because the music was good too, as strange as those albums by the American band were... There were indeed three songwriters in Sebadoh at the time of *Bubble And Scrape*, and one third of said tracklist was devoted to each songwriter. And this, even if everyone (the audience, the critics, the band itself) knew the best tunesmith was Lou Barlow among those three, thanks to a rare compositional talent that helped him convey deeply melancholic feelings in his own songs. Up to that album, the only melodies really worthy of interest are his, and there are enough of them in it to sell the whole deal. Besides, the songs those melodies are part of are among the most magnificient songs Barlow ever penned in his career: "Soul And Fire", " Two Years Two Days", "Cliche", "Homemade", " Forced Love"... Plus there is the livelier " Sacred Attention", where Barlow mixes his romantic sadcore leanings with an apocalyptic wall of lo-fi guitars. Not to mention "Think (Let Tomorrow Bee)", an absolute tearjerker right before the end, where his hushed pleading voice, Seana Carmody's delicate backing vocals, and three simple chords on an acoustic guitar are enough to make you cry. "Let tomorrow be / I can't be so impatient / Pushing every answer / When there isn't any question". Wow. Rarely have songs about a couple in crisis have felt so lived-in. All of that doesn't mean that the two other band members can't bring their own (sour) cream on the melancholic cake. Jason Loewenstein still has to hone his own heavier and grungier-via-hardcore-punk skills at that point, it's true. That said, "Sister" is a great cut, and Jason even visits Lou's angsty and emotional turf with a certain flair on "Happily Divided". As for Eric Gaffney, his dissonant and experimental noisy ventures can admittedly be a breath of fresh air for fans of Syd Barrett (albeit one who would have used a time machine to listen to Hüsker Dü' early hardcore releases). Listen to "Bouquet For A Siren" or "Fantastic Disaster" to get an idea of the sort of crazy shit he could pull off. Not to everyone's tastes, obviously. Yet Gaffney's experiments bring dynamics to the whole thing that keep you constantly on your toes, as bizarre as his compositions are. If there were only Barlow's songs, this lo-fi record wouldn't work in the way it does. Sometimes the sum is worth more than the (discrete) parts. Starting with the next album, *Bakesale*, Gaffney would be out of the picture, making Sebadoh's LPs more easily digestible and/or legible. Which is why I'm surprised this later record is not in Dimery's list, instead of this one. Lou's tunes also shine on *Bakesale*, by the way (as they do in "Harmacy", the one right after), and Loewenstein's upped his game pretty well too. But I guess that's a story for another time, kiddies. 4.5/5, rounded up to 5/5, mostly because I feel that reviewers on this app are a bit lost as to the exact way the very topsy-turvy art of Sebadoh should be apprehended. Always check out Lou's songs first. Then you'll be surprised as to how far you can actually go to eventually appreciate the whole thing. Early Sebadoh is weird because it sort of needs a user's guide. But that doesn't mean they were a "bad" band by any means. Number of albums left to review: 523 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 229 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 110 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 139

"Ubuesque" is a French word coined after Alfred Jarry's aburdist/surrealistic plays about his crazy character "Ubu-Roi" (King Ubu). The word basically means "grotesque", "absurd" or "unnecessarily complex". And when you listen to *Dub Housing*, you get the picture alright. Especially on its extraordinary opener "Navvy". David Thomas's voice sounds like the one of a demented bat imitating David Byrne right after biting his throat. Bleeps and bloops cover screeching saws all around you. Guitars wince and basslines get lost up their own arses for a few seconds. Short melodic lines surge out of nowhere, only to immediately disappear. It's a disquieting, unsettling experience, and it's intended that way. "Boy, that sounds swell!". It's so easy to picture Thomas waving his "flip-flop" arms like a maniac, even without any film of it to prove it. I'm delighted that Dimery's list has weird art-rock records like this. It's important that all sorts of music are represented, in spite of all the reviewers in here grumbling about it and giving it such a low global grade (I'm talking about music from the "western" world and using the album format, at least). Besides, Pere Ubu is an act so bizarre that it literally can't age. Lots of those reviewers (some of whom loved this record, but also others who actually hated it) referred to recent groundbreaking bands like Squid or black midi so as to give their opinions and try to explain what this LP is all about. And I'm also glad about this. There's definitely an affinity between Pere Ubu's own off-kilter sound in 1978 and the one played by quite important rock bands that don't want to fully rehash the past these days. So you can't deny *Dub Housing* is at least *relatively* essential, if only because of this. That said, it seems there are *two* Pere Ubu records in Dimery's list, if I'm not mistaken... Well, that's probably one too many for such a strange band. I'm all for "acquired tastes" and "slow growers", but using two slots for them might be wasting some valuable room for other wonderful weirdos. Think Sun Ra, Red Krayola or Captain Beefheart. Sure, there's *Trout Mask Replica* in the list (the only record that I fully hate and yet feel like it should be in there for its historical importance). Yet there are other Beefheart albums that should be there too, maybe. And if not, one of those recent British post-punk and/or art-rock acts I've just mentioned could also use the same slot. The more names, the merrier. Food for thought, eh? To be clear, my main gripe with *Dub Housing* is not how weird or "out there" it is. It's just that even if you keep an open mind and try as hard as you can to follow its millions twists and turns, the LP very quickly loses any sense of momentum--and this basically in the middle of the first side. "Free-form" is alright. "Experimental" is alright. But "spineless" is not. And this lack of backbone is especially gruelling on side two. Before that you still have a few bizarre fireworks here and there, like that impersonation of a horrific worm gnawing its way inside your brain on "Thriller!" (I shit you not, listen to this one with headphones, and you'll see what I'm talking about!). But as disturbing as those sorts of shenanigans are, they can't make up for how drowsy the whole thing sounds by that point, especially when it comes to the rhythms used. King Krule, black midi and Squid sometimes have problems to keep things relevant and/or catchy throughout a whole album as well, I can concede that point. But at least the rhythms and patterns used in most of their songs still *mean* something on a rhythmic viewpoint. Not in here, though, unfortunately. Worse, the start of *Dub Housing* suggests it could go to some lively places it actually never really goes to. That's what I call "losing momentum" in my book. And I would give the same sort of criticism for a mainstream pop album if I felt like it didn't fulfill its initial promises in such a blatant way. The problem is not the "style" of the music. It's the way there's no real build-up from track to track. I need to listen to *The Modern Dance* again (Pere Ubu's debut--released in the same year, right before this one). As far as I can remember, it is not fully plagued by this sort of critical issue I'm having with *Dub Housing*. And that's why I will probably select it for my own list of 1001 essential albums, and leave this one aside. So next, please. Number of albums left to review: 522 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 229 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 110 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 140 (including this one)

Sure, it's "derivative"... Sure, they ripped off Wire... Sure, it's the sort of album that will not be remembered for being groundbreaking or taking any significant risks with its audience... But hell do those songs SLAP you in the face from start to finish. In a year filled with wonders (1995, counting at least *40* essential or absolutely gripping full-length records in my book), this debut manages to end up very high in my own personal ranking. And that is a feat all by itself. Speaking of "years", British post-punk has had a few great ones recently... But I'm pretty sure this poppish version of it here has contributed to keep the flame alive since the subgenre's inception. And even if it didn't, this LP is still a small wonder anyway. Sometimes "essential" doesn't mean "relevant" or "deep" or "sophisticated". Sometimes "essential" means "*Hell, yeah!*" 5/5. Number of albums left to review: 521 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 230 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 110 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 140

I didn't know this app had ads now. Number of albums left to review: 519 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 230 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 110 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 141 - including this music for ads.

With a voice like that, and with such guitar skills, Jeff Buckley could play the classified section of a newspaper and turn it into a transcendent experience. But what he played was terrific original compositions, plus a string of stellar covers. When you take a Leonard Cohen song and your version of it erases the original one in public consciousness, it means you're a genius up to the level of Nina Simone. Add to this the iconic impact of a talented artist gone too soon (and the son of another one to boot, also gone too soon!) and you get an album that obviously deserves to be in a rather high slot in such a list. 5/5, what else? Number of albums left to review: 518 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 231 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 110 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 141

Well, I've counted. And unless I've lost count, at least 65 people are brutally murdered during the course of this album. Plus maybe a whole lot more, whose exact demise is not directly specified... Oh! And there was one dog, too. Crucified on a door. What a crazy album. I do remember feeling a little queasy during my first listen though. I knew what the record was all about beforehanded, and started counting the deaths on that very first listen. But I didn't expect the tally to be *this* high, to be honest... It's hard to get an accurate death count anyway, because there are no precise numbers for how many people died in the fire Lottie set in the Bella Vista slums. And speaking of unreliable narrators, there's also the doctor in "Song of Joy". It is never clear whether he is telling the truth or whether he is the killer, making up this story to gain access to people's homes (and a third possibility is that the story is true, but that his grief has turned him into a copycat killer). But whatever the "truth" really is here, this concern about the reliability of storytelling makes "Song Of Joy" a very apt opener for a record named *Murder Ballads*, and it's one of my favorite songs on this album filled with so many horrific wonders. As you go to the next tracks, subtle menace indeed quickly turns into full-blown terror. Which doesn't mean some things are not kept ambiguous. The other fate that's left hanging in the air in the record is the one of Nellie Brown in "Stagger Lee" for instance. Stagger Lee never directly describes her murder after he shoots Billy Dilly in the head. But the female screams you can hear at the end of the song make it pretty obvious she doesn't survive the night either. Slaughters abound in this record, and the most memorable of them is to be found in "O'Malley's Bar". Devoid of any free will, and describing himself the way an author would describe a fictional character, the unnamed protagonist of this song is impossible to forget, as is his murderous rampage in said bar, described with all sorts of graphic details and psychologically harrowing comments about the victims. I think there's almost a "meta" aspect to this song, by the way. Somehow, the story we have here--the longest and final one on the album--presents a character who's related to Cave's position as an artist in the sense that he wishes to accomplish something extraordinary. But given the gruesome topic he addresses here, said artist/storyteller knows his work will never be universally recognized anyway, and that *he*'ll be the one ending up being labeled as a "piece of work", instead of his made-up character. This here is a very personal interpretation of the meaning of the song, I'll grant you that. But whatever the (nut)case may be, a shiver went down my spine during its conclusion, when the police takes the killer away in their car. The last thing you hear Cave doing between moans and rasps and growls is... him counting. Just as I had been doing since the start of the album. I'm not surprised Cave loves stuff like Flannery O'Connor after listening to it, by the way. Because somehow, as gratuitous and violent as the concept of this record sounds and looks, Cave never loses the human angle here. You *feel* for these characters. Empathy, pity, sadness, contempt, terror, disgust, awe... Just as in any good piece of fiction. What makes us feel empathy for the victims is that they all have such colourful memorable names and details about them, for instance. It is superb lyric-writing to identify the characters. Particularly in "O'Malleys Bar", where each victim has a description of their personality or physical appearance given to the listener. They're a sample of humanity at large. Normal, simple, humble, innocent folks leading normal simple lives, here gathered in the wrong place at the wrong time... It's all in the details, like in the great novels or short stories of old. And those details are conveyed by the greatness of the writing, with a few very memorable one-liners here and there, up there with best (and most shocking) lines Eminem could come up with. One example: "Rorschach & Prozac now everything is groovy" Cave sure has a knack to convey the "voice" of his doomed characters in a very striking manner, doesn't he? And let's not forget the music: of course, this being a narrative-driven album, the music is mostly used as background for Nick's menacing voice, but it also does a great job emphasizing all the key moments in the stories that it deserves high praise as well. It's lush, it's moody, it's evocative, it's theatrical. It's all it needs to be for such an original project. Besides, with "Henry Lee" and "Where The Wild Roses Grow", Cave wrote perfect duets giving welcome respite during the LP's tracklist--even if they're still about tragedy and murder. The first of those duets was sung with his old flame PJ Harvey, and it's a delicate performance through and through. As for "Where the Wild Roses Grow, everyone knows this stunner was performed with fellow aussie pop star Kylie Minogue, and most will remember that the tune was quite a surprising indie hit back in the day. It cracks me up every time I think of unassuming listeners liking that latter single on the radio and buying the LP because of it. They were certainly in for a wild ride--one they probably didn't expect in the first place. This album was made for such a list. It is indeed "essential" in the sense that it uses the album format and turns it into something else altogether. And you don't have many records like that in the world. So even if *Murder Ballads* is the sort of LP you would NOT play for a family function, a christmas dinner party or a casual evening with friends--therefore limiting the occasions you would listen to it--it still fully deserves its 5/5 grade here. Great concept, great songwriting, awesome execution... And when I say "execution", you probably get what I'm saying here. Right? Number of albums left to review: 517 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 232 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 110 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 141

Is this witty or is this dumb? Are the songs catchy or predictable? Is it an important record from the prehistory of punk, or a mere footnote in modern music history? Mileages seem to vary according to people when it comes to this one. As far as I'm concerned I find this record well done, quite funny (if not hilarious), and lively. Yet its global score on the app seems outrageously low. I agree that it's not the album of the century, but still... Now I need to revisit said album to see of those songs will stay with me in the long run. I already have a feeling that side two is better than the first one, and that it's there that the best cuts are. And maybe unconvinced reviewers should listen to those again, without dismissing the whole thing as irrelevant. In the meantime... 4/5. Number of albums left to review: 515 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 232 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 111 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 141

Still a great follow-up to *You're Living All Over Me*. It has the exact same earmarks as in that goundbreaking album: good songwriting, J Mascis's guitar solos and plaintive voice, layers and layers of high frequency noise and slacker-rock messiness... It just lacked the elements of surprise found in their 1987 breakthrough record. But "objectively", *Bug* was equally good. When it comes to other vintage Dinosaur Jr. LPs, you could also single out *Hand It Over*, *Green Mind* or *Where You Been*. And I'm fully aware that their later period--when Lou Barlow went back into the fold--is excellent as well... The thing is, you can't cram all those good records from *one* single band in, can you? Number of albums left to review: 514 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 232 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 112 (including *Bug* - and it's one of those rare cases where a 4/5 LP risks not making it to the list: I want to leave room for at least one other Dinosaur Jr. album apart from *You're Living All Over Me*, but the competition is fierce, I gotta say...) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 141

It's good rap, quite indebted to its time and place but that's not necessarily a bad thing. You can feel the indirect (and sometimes direct, given the credits) influence of Kanye and Jay-Z all over this. And the socially conscious lyrics here and there can't hurt. I've browsed through the rest of Lupe Fiasco's discography, by the way, and it was interesting. It seems like there are two threads alternating during his close-to-twenty years career. One where he panders to the rap trends of the day, with a few good results overall, but also others that won't age very well, you can bet your boots on that! And one that's more experimental and leftfield, which sounds far more promising in the long run. In a way, you can find the origin point of those two trends in this debut album. Older boom bap alternates with soul-flavored Kanye shenanigans and other lush, glossy Jay-Z stylings typical of the naughts. It's the sort of "either/or" dynamic that is to be found in the rest of the rapper's discography. These days, Lupe goes from a jazzy and electronica-tinged style to a trap sound that sounds a little opportunistic, and probably less relevant that what the true originators of this subgenre have released over the recent years. Once again this situation can produce results that can either hold water or tread it, no matter what style is used on a given moment. And this sort of dynamic points to the only real issue I have with the American rapper: a relative lack of *identity*, often preventing the listener to fully invest in his music. It's only *one* issue, yet it's still a major one when it comes to "essential" music. And this issue can already be felt in Lupe's debut here. Which is why I will put the latter in my "waiting list". Besides, who knows? Maybe some later album of his can come up sounding more "relevant" if I dig further into them? As a consequence, my grade for *Food And Liquor* is 3/5 for the purposes of this app. Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 513 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 232 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 113 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 141

What a strange suggestion. Given that I'm not even sure to include *Felt Mountain*, Goldfrapp's debut, in my own list, I have a lot of trouble considering this later album of theirs seriously. *Felt Mountain* was already a patchy effort, some great moments mixed with quite a few snoozefests, especially those dreary instrumentals on side two. *Seventh Tree* is more cohesive in comparison, it's true. But replacing valleys and peaks with flatlands does not necessarily mean your band has improved overall. Besides, I've always found this project quite opportunistic, as great a vocalist as Alisson Godfrapp is. *Felt Mountain* was already like an afterthought of the trip-hop wave, never really reaching the heights of a Portishead in its neo-noir aesthetics. It was too late AND not enough. The 180-degree turn towards dance music in the following LPs also looked suspicious, like a money grab. And the quieter, smoother *Seventh Tree* released after this dance music period tried a little too hard to capitalize on a glossy version of the psychedelic wave that was surging again by the late naughts. A lot of acoustic textures, especially on the first side, allowed the band to do so while keeping their cool. But those textures, as nice as they are, can't make up for what's missing in this record... And what's missing in it? Well, memorable songs, for starters--or at least more than a couple of them. Striking melodies and unforgettable harmonies... And along with that: clear intents, a strong identity, genuine risks, heartfelt or witty lyrics... Pandering to the trends of the day doesn't necessarily give you those types of assets. I have nothing against "followers" (some of them did write essential albums once in a while), but for those, the songwriting needs to be top-notch. And well, said songwriting is just *OK* here. "Clowns" is the understated opening statement that's to be expected in that sort of *quote-unquote*, "more-authentic-album-aimed-at-a-more-mature-audience". "Little Bird" is the missing link between the Beatles' "Strawberry Fields Forever" and Beach House's "Zebra" or "Silver Soul"... but sadly, it is doomed to remain a passing footnote whenever someone has to mention those other legendary songs. "Happiness" seems to recycle the lessons of Feist's hits "My Moon, My Man" and "1234", released the year before, but without anything approaching (or even approximating) the soaring hooks and emotional choruses of the latter, unfortunately. Less lively but equally tedious--in spite of an interesting lo-fi guitar sound and the Billie Holiday overtones in its introduction--"Road to Somewhere" leads to nowhere fast. And "Eat Yourself" applies its piece of advice so well that the song instantly fades out of your memory as soon as it is over. Up to this point, only "Some People" does have anything ressembling a proper chorus, even though it's still lacking something that would bring the song to yet another level. Don't get me wrong, Goldfrapp doesn't write and perform bad music per se, and more power to you if you can appreciate what they do. It's just that "decent" is not the sort of thing that can keep you awake at night, is it? A couple of more straightforward songs towards the very end of this album--incidentally leaving aside the acoustic-psychedelic flourishes so prevalent in the rest of the tracks--show that Goldfrapp could still be a little more convincing when their heart was into it. The problem is that before those two tracks, the pop-rock diamond-in-the-rough "Caravan Girl", and the part-angsty, part-dreamy "Monster Love" (sounding like a proto-Lana Del Rey torch song about Hollywood and its many dangers), you also have the chatty MOR FM borefest "A&E", along with that very awkward "Cologne Cerrone Houdini". In those two other unfortunate cuts, Godfrapp even commits the crime of confusing style with substance, either through their excessive reliance in pop's hackneyed formulae for the first example, or through their heavy-handed borrowing of Serge Gainsbourg/Andrew Loog Oldham-like strings to painstakingly try to disguise how vacuous the second song actually is. To put it in a nutshell, successes and duds even things out at the end of this LP. And before that, there's nothing too lively happening anyway, in one direction or another. So if you wish to single out genuinely *essential records*, I'm not sure this innocuous LP filled with a lot of forcibly understated / *actually very naive* cuts--well-suited to be played as background music in a Starbucks--is what you're really looking for. Your call. 2/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 512 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 232 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 113 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 142 (including this one)

It's very hard to take Dimery's list seriously when it comes to Björk. *Debut* is listed, along with *Medúlla* and *Vulnicura*, but as nice as those two latter experimental records from the Icelandic diva's later career are, they can't beat the musical and cultural impact of the marvels found in *Post*, *Homogenic* and *Vespertine*, inexplicably absent from the 1001 albums book. Likewise, listing this LP from the band that helped the Icelandic singer rise to international fame is a clear misstep, especially under the light of those inexplicable omissions. This nordic version of B52s and Talking Heads shenanigans could perform some fun stuff once in a while. But in terms of memorable tunes, only "Birthday" stands out, mostly because Björk's elated vocals are given enough room to breathe there, contrary to a lot of the other tracks in this weird album--she was not the only singer in the band, unfortunately, and even when she was the only one to sing, the heavy-handed rock instrumentation took away a lot of her powers anyway. So I'll be damned if *Life's Too Good* was universally considered as "essential". It's still an interesting listen for hardcore fans of Björk's voice. But it can't go any further than that. 2/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 511 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 232 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 113 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 143 (including this one)

The way her breath is cut short when she moans "Oh my lover / You can love her / You can love me at the same time" tells you everything you need to know about PJ Harvey. From the very first second of this *raw* debut, this particular moment tells you everything about the sort of disturbing-yet-oddly-enticing world Polly Jean wants to convey to her audience. It tells you she's a unique talent with a unique voice, both seductive and scorching, and that when *Dry* came out, she was about to become one of the most important artists working in the rock idiom for many decades to come (and she did become exactly that, did she not?). I don't even really feel the need to list all the gems in this record. There are too many of them anyway: swampy rockers such as "O Stella", "Dress" or "Sheela-Na-Gig" ; slower menacing bluesy cuts like "Oh My Lover", "Victory" or "Happy And Bleeding" ; hypnotic odes to love and lust such as "Fountains" and "Water"... And so on. They're all great. 5/5, what else? Number of albums left to review: 510 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 233 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 113 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 143

I have always had mixed feelings about *Modern Sounds In Country And Western Music*, Ray Charles' supposed masterpiece released a few years after this one. It does have great tunes, and I fully respect its "agenda" that saw Charles covering songs from "white" repertoires so as to break unfair race barriers in America. Yet I feel like the charms of this type of this subsequent lush record can't beat the ones of his more grassroots eponymous 1957 debut, which will always sound more "authentic" to me. Plus, neither "Modern Sounds..." nor "The Genius of Ray Charles" have the many timeless hits Charles performed over the first years of his career (mostly for single issues or less relevant albums--hits such as "Hit The Road Jack", "What I'd Say", " Georgia On My Mind" and so on...). So it's a little hard for me to see such albums as "essential" either, Apart from the race-barrier-breaking agenda, "The Genius Of Ray Charles" is indeed very similar to "Modern Sounds...". So much that I wonder why this one is not considered as Ray's magnum opus by all the "critics", given that it was released before it. The only real difference is that this time the brass band and syrupy strings orchestrations are neatly sorted out between side 1 and 2, contrary to the way they mingles in *Modern Sounds*'s tracklisting. Side 1 starts with a bang, with "Let The Good Times Roll", "It Had To be You" and "Alexander's Ragtime Band". But then it's more of the same and my patience wears thin very quickly. Once the slow ballads supported by strings on side 2 come up, the transition feels a little jarring, and for a couple of tunes, the whole thing sounds quite derivative as well. Fortunately, the best ballads start with "Tell Me You'll Wait For Me" in the middle of the second side (what an incredible intro for this one, thanks to that mysterious string section), and that last bunch of tracks right after it saves the day (especially "Am I Blue"). I'm still having mixed feelings, however, at least regarding the status of this album as a so-called "essential" one. This LP offers good music overall, but it never gets me excited enough for me to buy the whole thing (just like I can't get excited enough for *Modern Sounds...* either). Bought a Ray Charles "best of" anthology, however (which incidentally habors both his timeless hits AND the key tracks from those two specific albums highlighted by the "critics" here). And I also purchased that great eponymous debut. All of this is more than enough for my needs, to be honest. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 508 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 233 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 114 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 143

Yee--and fans of women having a message to convey should really pay attention to this--haw. Yes, Loretta Lynn was quite a fascinating figure from the C&W world. I even own a best of album from her: *Coal Miner's Daughter"*, and I recommend it if you want to know a little more about her music and the way she used it to call the bullshit of men and all the shitty ways they could treat their wives (including her own husband / manager!). That being said, why selecting this particular album when there were many others from her that had the same structure and impact? Each of these LPs included a very "topical" and personal single (example "The Pill", about married women's contraception), a few other cuts also written by Loretta, and then far less striking tracks written by others, unfortunately. In other words, it was always the same thing. Which tends to suggest that Lynn was more a "singles" artist than an "albums" artist. Heck, when it comes to essential LPs by Loretta Lynn, that later comeback album Jack White produced for her is even a better candidate. All the songs were written by her there, and as a consequence, the whole thing was far better, even if it was decades after her heyday. So about *Don't Come Home A Drinkin'*, my overall grade for the purposes of this list of essential records is 3/5. Which translated to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. Next, please. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: a little more than 500, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far  Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter (including this one). Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter (including this one)

Going from Loretta Lynn to Public Enemy is one of the many joys of this ap, ha ha. Unfortunately, today I'm a little short on time to describe how great *Apovalypse '91... The Enemy Strikes Back* is. So it's gonna be a quick one. The only little issue I have with this record is that it suffers a bit from how *perfect* its first side is, paradoxically.The second part of this album still harbors some excellent hip hop. But you just can't beat tracks like tight "Can't Truss It", or the deeply menacing yet groovier "By The Time I get To Arizona" (with its crunchy bassline and its soulful backgound vocals). There's also that lively "Nighttrain" or the more laidback "I Don't Want To be Called Yo Nigga", and all those tracks are as iconic as anything found in "It Takes A Nation Of Millions..." or "Fear Of A Black Planet". The alnpbum also goes out with a final bang, sonce there's the "Anthrax" version of "Bring The Noize" as a bonus at the end. That collaboration with the metal band sure is iconic as well... *Apocalypse '91...* is therefore a great bookend to P.E.'s "classic" period. Chuck D was the best rapper in the world during those early hip hop years: his punchlines *burn* everything on their way, and his political analysis is still as relevant in 2023 as it was back in the day. And Flavor Flav is a master at creating a sardonic atmosphere when he takes the center stage, as always. So the *relative* dip in quality during side 2 explains why my initial grade is 4.5/5, it's nothing that can prevent me from rounding it up to 5. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: a little more than 500, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter. Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

Technically, this is a compilation of tracks from the first two albums of the Swedish garage rock band (named *Barely Legal* and *Veni Vidi Vicious*), here aimed at the international market. And since those two albums are already pretty neat, said compilation is just phenomenal, very logically. I've never bought it since I already had those first two albums at home, brilliantly mixing retro-garage aesthetics with a modern punk energy that makes the whole thing irresistible and far more efficient than 80% of that early-naughts rock revival thing. For a second I was just wondering if the cover shown in here was the one of a later record from The Hives. Glad to see I have nothing to explore that I didn't already know today, given that I'm a little short on time... The other good news is that I can now include the Buzzcock's compilation *Singles Going Steady* in my list (conspicuously absent from the 1001 albums book), given that it was a very similar situation--it was a compilation that was aimed at the American market this time, more than a decade earlier. But everyone a little serious about punk rock knows it's one that became more iconic than the albums somehow. Pretty sure that a lot of people feel that way about The Hives' *Your New Favorite Band*, even if I don't. And just because this other compilation allows me to use only one slot for The Hives (and save some space for other acts), I'm glad to include it in my own list--and this even if I'm a little saddened that some of the other great cuts of the first two albums are missing from the collection suggested here. Those three amazing hits "A.K.A. I.D.I.O.T", "Main Offender" and "Hate To Say I Told You So" are just the tip of the iceberg here. Now you know, at least. :) Number of albums left to review or just listen to: a little more than 500, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens:  approximately a half so far (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter. Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

The very definition of "guilty pleasure". At least for me. Sonically, esthetically, *Brothers In Arms* is schmaltzy as fuck, with eighties production values so slick that it feels like the chrome of a vintage car as seen through the pages of a brand new glossy magazine. You can even whiff those production values through the artwork. You just need to replace "vintage car" with Mark Knopfler's 1937 14-fret National Style "O" Resonator guitar, and you literally get the picture. To be clear, old-school twist "Walk Of Life" and MOR cheesefest "Your Latest Trick" (complete with a long sax solo that make the track a perfect companion for extended rides on the highway) are only "dated" in the sense that they were always intended to be so. Such is the genius of Mark Knowfler, who knew enough music history to understand his most commercial impulses at the time would actually age well on an artistic viewpoint if he kept everything as clear and on point as he could. And the not-so-latest trick to accomplish such a feat was to balance catchiness and subtlety in ways that only someone like Knowfler could do. The best example of this is his iconic guitar riff on the timeless "Money For Nothing", but there's also the laidback opener "So Far Away From Me" to prove it. And since the songwriting and other guitar soloing is consistently good or interesting from start to finish, the whole album is a home run. The deeper cuts about the tragedy of war on the second side ("Ride Across The River", "The Man's Too Strong" and the melancholic title track closing the prodeedings) are especially poignant, and they add a cohesive thematic throughline that also brings a lot of resonance to the second part of this record. In comparison, "Why Worry" and "One World" are more like meat-and-potatoes numbers, each in their own genre, but they can't hurt the whole thing. Terms like "meat-and-potatoes", "derivative" and "commercial" can't really apply to this album anyway. If only because significant parts of it give enough winks to the audience about its own "plastic", pastiche aspects. In "Money For Nothing", Knowfler, along with Sting (!), does not merely aim jabs at consumerism, including the music business; the players also seem to make fun of themselves here, just as they make fun of MTV. MTV heard them alright, by the way: they went along with the joke, and turned the track into an instant hit through its heavy rotation on the music channel. All of this might be a little cynical for some, but it does add a cutural impact to this record that, very clearly, make it a 5/5 essential listen. Number of albums left to review or just listen to: a little more than 500, I've temporarily lost count here Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: approximately a half so far (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: a quarter. Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more important): the last quarter

All hope is gone that I take this list seriously now. A personal memory: I saw Slipknot headlining one night of the Furyfest / Hellfest metal festival in France back in the naughts, and it was one night to remember. The festival audience had learned that the band had turned up late for the soundcheck in the early afternoon, and that they had used most of the soundcheck slots of the other smaller bands playing that day to rehearse their show. Which prevented those other bands to do the same, obviously. Apart from Slipknot's young and naive fans, the slightly more mature general audience of that festival was not pleased by that rumour, as you can imagine. And so Slipknot got the welcome they supposedly deserved when they started to play. Angry metalheads and hardcore punk kids put their hands on everything they could find at the festival locale--stones, cans, even bottles of piss!--and threw them on the stage while Slipknot was playing. An acquaintance working at the festival later told us that among the rubbish littering the stage right after the band left it, someone even found a f*cking dead rabbit. A dead rabbit! Pretty fitting for the band's aesthetics, I'd say. I gotta give it to Slipknot, though, they still gave a great show, objectively speaking. Even with their masks on, you could sense the band didn't care about the dangerous situation, and they even took advantage of it, adding their own craziness to the whole disaster. Whenever he could, their frontman kept giving middle fingers to the pissed-off festival members, clearly enjoying the whole thing while avoiding the projectiles as he played--therefore proving Slipknot were solid performers through and through, even under those pretty adverse circumstances. This can't make up for the rock-star bullshit, but that justifies the admiration of some other fans, I guess... To return to *All Hope Is Gone*, it's more satisfying for me to share that little anecdote than to describe this album painstakingly trying to renew Slipknot's sound almost a decade after that nu-metal thing took over the world (and then faded into oblivion). The band tries to play as many different cards as they can to move their sound further--classic trash metal / death metal on "Gematria" ; System Of A Down-related dynamics on "Sulfur" ; cheesy pop choruses on "Psychosocial" ; a metal version of Depeche Mode for "Dead Memories" (via Mike Shinoda/Linkin' Park, maybe?) ; or a classic metal ballad à la "Nothing Else Matters" with "Snuff" ; not to mention the band's already aging nu-metal routine for most of the other cuts... But literally everything falls flat, because there's nothing that Slipknot offers here that hasn't been done better ten times before. Including by them sometimes, very ironically. Those musicians are very skilled players and performers, of course. But that's not enough to consider *All Hope Is Gone* as "essential". If anything, this album looks a little like that stage I talked about earlier, at least once the show was over. It's a topsy-turvy arrangement of rubbish that neither makes sense nor suggests a truly visceral experience. Because everything important was said and done *before* that moment. A *dead* rabbit for sure. :) To put it in a nutshell, maybe it would make more sense to include Slipknot's 1999 eponymous album in the list, thanks to its more iconic tracks on the first side ("sic", "Eyeless", "Wait And Bleed"...). That choice would at least be more preferable than this later overdone and rather laborious LP. As some reviewers rightly said here (including initial fans of the band), the 1001 Albums book's strange "compromise" that saw its authors select this later full-length release won't satisfy a lot of people anyway, whether they are sincere fans of the band or not. And the global score is here to prove it. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 1). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 508 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 236 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 114 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 145 (including this one)

I love Smog, and I'm pretty sure Bill Callahan has written and performed many gems during his subsequent career under his real name--I've been checking him out once in a while, just like you get news from a former good friend you don't see so much anymore, just to make sure he's alright. But I'd be lying if I said I knew the contents of his "solo" records by heart. So I guess it's nice that this app reminds me of him now... I'll stop beating about the bush, this album is excellent. "Jim Cain" is a perfect Callhanesque melancholic opener. "Eid Ma Clack Shaw" is the sort of surprising groovy cut Bill dabbles with sometimes, bringing welcome energy to the early part of the tracklist. "The Wind And The Dove" is a chiaruscuro wonder where the oriental flourishes and minor chords of the verses provide a stark contrast to the sudden major illuminations gracing the rest of the song. "Rococo Zephyr" is a subtle and touching love song. "Too Many Birds"'s finale provides a sort of gentle epiphany only Callahan is capable (the way the final line of the song is built up from one word from the next over that enticing piano hook at the end of each measure is a stroke of genius). "My Friend" is a mid-tempo oddity that's both tense and joyful, oddly enough (love the female wordless minimalistic backing vocals on that !). "All Thoughts Are Prey To Some Beast" is the experimental centerpiece of the album, a long dirge that uses the metaphor of birds on trees to go inside Callahan's psyche. And after a short instrumental interlude comes the baroque 10-minute closer of the album, the Nietzschean, yet paradoxically soulful, "Faith/Void". In this track, as in many other ones in this LP, the strings section and other lush instrumentation backing Callahan do wonders (that weird melodica at the end!). What's so surprising, in this song as well as other long ones Bill wrote elsewhere, is how time fly by while you listen to them. The American songwriter knows how to put his audience in a meditative state like few of his colleagues can. The only issue that could prevent me from giving five stars to this record is that as great as Bill Callahan is, I have a feeling his records (and some of his songs) are often interchangeable. Which is a problem for a list of "essential" LPs. Which one do you choose, in the end? Maybe 2022's "REALITY" could apply as well? But you can't cram everything in, can you? Wise and world-weary Callahan would probably laugh those vacuous concerns about a "best albums" list away, though. He's too much into the immanent moment to care about such neurotic endeavors. And he's right. So in that spirit, I guess my final grade doesn't matter that much... Number of albums left to listen to: approximately 500 (I've temporarely lost count here). Number of albums I'll include on my list: a half so far, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I *might* include; a quarter approximately. Number of albums I will never include (many others are more important): another quarter.

If this album was a street sign. it would be a "dead end" one for me. That sign would lead to a great place, objectively speaking--filled to the brim with ideas drawing from a vast array of genres going from latin funk-rock to rap, with a clear emphasis on so-called "world music" (like the gnawa/qawwali-inspired opener "Believe"). But as great as that place is on the paper, that early-naughts version of Santana still feels like a dead end for me. Because the whole thing is a little too safe and devoid of personality, as skilled the players and composers in that band were. And because this album didn't necessarily age very well, like a lot of stuff from the naughts. So unless I knew someone living in that dead end street, there would be no reason for me to return there after my first visit. Oh, another thing. I fully concur with the author currently topping the reviews section of this app: there's an awful lot of divergence between different versions of the 1001 Albums book, with a lot of more contemporary releases added and then quickly removed depending on the reissues of the original book. And indeed, it's almost like the people who curate this don't know how to evaluate music form the 21st century for its lasting impact. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 501 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 237 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 114 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 149 (including this one)

Kate Bush is a key artist of the late seventies and eighties, that's for sure. So a big yes for the inclusion of *Hounds Of Love*, *Never For Ever* or *The Kick Inside* in a list of 1001 essential albums. I know the first is mentioned in the book this app is based on (it has to, that record just aged like fine wine). Can't remember about the other two, though. But when you have striking hits like "Wuthering Heights" or "Babooshka" in your tracklist WHILE ALSO harboring many deeper cuts that are as equally weird as they are wonderful, it means that you wrote an album that people are gonna remember for a long time. You won't hear such enthusiasm coming out from me about *The Dreaming* or *The Sensual World*, though (both are included in Dimery's list, I remember it very clearly). Sure, *The Dreaming* was meant and designed to be, well, "original". Or even "experimental". But what it does instead is mostly sounding weird (and dated). And it does this in such a solipsistic way that it's probably better to leave it aside and let the British singer's hardcore fans enjoy the whole thing on their own. When the line between "off-kilter" and "grating" is crossed so many times in the space of a few tracks, it probably means your little extravanganza could have "calibered" in far more effective ways than it currently is. As for *The Sensual World*, it is a far better work than *The Dreaming* overall, but I'd say its own faults lie in a diametrically opposed direction: the whole thing indeed sounds a little too tame, a little too safe--especially in comparison to the enticing yet strong flavors that its predecessor *Hounds Of Love* had. Not that it's *totally* safe, though. You still have that special Kate Bush touch on the title track, ripe with all its Irish instrumentation. You have the Bulgarian choir for backing vocals on a few songs. You have that mix of sensibility and womanly strength on the touching-yet-stellar ballad "This Woman's Work". Unfortunately, you also have cheesy guitar solos and those oh-so-eighties gated drums (which didn't harm *Hounds Of Love* the way they harmed *The Sensual World*). So it's still a mixed bag for me. Interestingly, Kate Bush re-recorded the key cuts from this album and the one after (*The Red Shoes*) for her *Director's Cut* project. And she changed most of those problematic instrumentations when she revisited all those songs. I take this as some form of awareness on her part that her tunes had been harmed by those exagerated eighties trends. Glad that she "repaired" them, at least. Of course, the other "crime" *The Dreaming* and *The Sensual World* are guilty of is that there's no *real* hit in their tracklisting--no popular song everyone remembers, such as "Wuthering Heights", "Babooshka", "Running Up That Hill" or "Cloudbursting". When your league is the one of pop music--even an artsy form of it--you need to include a legendary track like that in your records if you really you want them to be deemed essential. Otherwise, what's the point of writing pop music, eh? 3/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 8/5 for more general puposes (5+3). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: less than 500 (I've temporarily lost count) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately. Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

"Yela" is a beautiful opener, expansive and heartfelt. Unfortunately, it seems to me that the mix of afro-islamic tunes and early-nineties western influences on other tracks hasn't aged very well. More barebones tracks such as "Gidelam" and "Sy Sawande" hold their own pretty well, though. I don't know... Being unfamiliar with this style of music overall, I think I need more time to revisit this record (and maybe others by Baaba Maal). In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: less than 500 (I've temporarily lost count) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately. Number of albums I *might* include: a quarter, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me). Temporary grade: 3/5 for the purposes of this list (and 8/10 for more general pusposes: 5+3)

It seems like Outkast fans fall into two categories: those who think *Aquemini* is their magnum opus, and those who would rather vote for *Stankonia*. The first was surely the most groundbreaking one, but the famous hits are on the second. With stellar tracks such as "So Fresh, So Clean", " Ms.Jackson" and "Bombs Over Baghdad", the album is worth your time, aven with lengthier deep cuts and interludes (a flaw many rap albums--including masterpieces--shared at the time). And if "Hey Ya" had been on that record, instead of the weird double-solo album that saw the duet officially part ways later on, you can bet your boots that *Stankonia* would have been the magnum opus. Well, why choose? I think there's enough room in my own list for *both* LPs... Number of albums left to review: 498 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 238 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 114 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 147

There's a thing to be said about repetition. Handled nicely, it can lead to a state of mind that makes you let go at last. It can lull you to sleep, but it can also break the barriers you routinely erect around you, and take you to higher level of awareness. And it's when repetition it has this hypnotic quality that it can transcend genres and trends. This album couldn't be further from a Steve Reich masterpiece, I'll grant you that. And yet I truly believe transcendence-via-repetition is *also* what it accomplishes here, and this as "dated" as said album sounds today. It's another sort of repetition--one you can come upon throughout decades of modern music, from The 13th Floor Elevators and The Velvet Underground to Jaimie xx, Porridge Radio or Crack Cloud. And this is why I don't care so much about the "nineties electronic rock" style displayed in this particular LP as I care about what it *does* within those confines. I remember listening to *The Contino Sessions* when it came out, mostly because of "Dirge"'s success among indie crowds (that simple "la-la-laaaaa" vocal line is just infectious). And if I wasn't enthralled to the point of buying the album then, I was still pretty enthusiastic about it... But what strikes me *now* is that I remember almost all the tracks in this LP, even though it's been ages since I listened to it: "Soul Auctioneer", with Primal Scream's Bobby Gillespie sounding like a stoned bum on it ; the menace of *Death Threat" ; the elated "Flying", a more interesting and more abrasive version of an Archive cut ; weird big-beat rocker "Aisha" allowing Iggy Pop to let his iconic persona shine through (plus that oriental-sounding solo on a wind instrument in its midway point, as the chords modulate and up the ante--a touch of genius for sure!) ; "Lever Street" is moving like few instrumental interludes can be ; as for "Alladin's Story", this laidback-yet-surprising cover of an obscure Rolling Stones composition brings a welcome vintage atmosphere to the proceedings; "Broken Little Sister" then goes back to the band's more sinister side, like a version of Spiritualized with balls instead of the latter's harmless sing-song meanderings (and one can't thank The Jesus And Mary Chain's Jim Reid enough for his vocal performance here) ; and finally, closer "Neptune City", which goes full-psychedelic on the listener, using its guitar (or sitar?) loops to great effects. There's not a single dud in this album, actually, and I didn't expect to like it as much as I just did. So I'm buying it right now. I should have bought it decades ago, come to think of it. I'm also buying *Scorpio Rising*, the full-length record Death In Vegas released after this one, in 2023. Contrary to *The Contino Sessions*, there are a couple of duds in it. But the highlights are even more spectacular, with "Girls" of *Lost In Translation* fame, rocker "Scorpio Rising" (featuring Liam Gallagher--I can't resist adding "of Oasis fame" here, ha ha), plus Paul Weller (of *The Jam* fame) performing the vocals of that Gene Clark cover. Not to mention "Killing Smiles" and its lush string section, (featuring Hope Sandoval), and yet another great psychedelic closer, "Help Yourself"--also with Hope Sandoval, and this one ten minutes long. Now with those two records, I can say I have all Death In Vegas' essential albums. Or at least, that's how I feel... On a sidenote, and before ending this short review with the usual closing credits, I've just read the scalding review Pitchfork published about *The Contino Sessions* at the time Death In Vegas released it. Amazing how you can be wrong on so many levels. Mark my words, there's no problem expressing personal (dis)tastes, and mileages can vary when it comes to repetitive, "hypnotic" music. But when you're complaining about the so-called "bad" basslines in the album, or when you keep on comparing Death In Vegas with Primal Scream--even if they're very different animals (Primal Scream never used *repetition* in the way that Death In Vegas does)--it means you're either deaf or intellectually lazy. Or maybe both. Plus, apart from very few *bons mots* here and there, that review is terribly written. *The most trusted voice in music*. Yeah, right. Waiting for the moment when Pitchfork will give a non-"canon" retrospective grading to this LP, as they have already done in the recent past. In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: 497 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 239 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 114 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 147

You got the lovers and the haters of this band, and if you heed either of them, they're both talking as if their opinion represented the one of 90% of the listeners. Don't know the percentage of the audience who fall into those two extremes, but I'm sure part of that latter category. My first reaction was to hate this band, I admit it. Well, apart from "Don't Panic", the simple yet illuminating opener of this debut album (also having some ironic overtones in its stellar chorus, if you pay a little attention). But yes, I was part of the haters, and I genuinely thought I couldn't stand the rest of this album after I browsed though it. Yet it was more because of the stupid comparisons with Radiohead from reviewers and other listeners than anything the band was doing themselves. Oranges and apples, you see. The *real* problem, however, was that I had not really listened to Coldplay albums at the time. At least while paying attention to them. Now I have, at least the first four--I'm not going to address their later career, which saw them turn into a shameful and cheesy pop act doing collabs with dumb K-pop bands, just because, well... streaming numbers! But if I go back to the early LPs, I can say that Coldplay deserved neither the raving praise nor the piled heaps of hatred and ignominy routinely thrown their way. They were just a decent band doing their thing. A little too bland at times (or many times, depending on the album). But they also had their moments. Case in point, "Shiver", the second track of *Parachutes*, which goes from lively to innocuous in the space of mere seconds. What about the rest, then? "Spies" is a good pop rock cut, a little safe, but still pleasant. Which is not the case of the borefest "Sparks", lacking any of them titular sparks to light any fire in your heart, ironically. "Yellow" and "Trouble" are signature songs of the band, which means there's something to them. They're certainly among the most inspired cuts in the album, thanks to their catchy guitar licks. The title-track that follows those two highlights, "Parachutes", is an interesting miniature cut, only lasting 45 seconds. Far from essential given its nature, yet smartly placed in the tracklisting to elicit curiosity. Then comes "High Speed", whose title betrays its slower languid contents. "We Never Change" goes back to the sort of acoustic moodpiece "Sparks" already displayed, with no better luck. Fortunately, Closer "Everything's Not Lost" explores more soulful territory, and I think the band made a great find with the chords they're using here. It's another VERY languid torch song, mark my words, but there's a timelessness to this composition that makes it endearing, all things considered. Finally, there's a short nameless hidden track after that official closer, but it adds nothing relevant to the whole thing, in spite of its instrumentation apparently using an accordion (or "bandoleon"). That's it folks. A striking flaw in this record is that it lacks bite overall, obviously. But I would lie if I said the music that's played here is "bad". Feeling benevolent today, *Parachutes* will therefore go to my "waiting room". Maybe *A Rush Of Blood To The Head* and *Viva La Vida* will join it later on. I doubt there's gonna be room left for any of them in my final list. But you never know. After all, "we live in a beautiful world", where miracles happen sometimes. Or do they? 3/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 496 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 239 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 147

Apart from "Lonely At The Top", the extraordinary "Political Science", and closer "God's Song", the satire quickly wears thin on all the other tracks. Or it sounds very *thick* instead, depending on the subject matter at hand and the way Randy Newman laughs about it. Musically, there are a handful of good songs ("Last Night I Had A Dream", the delicate "Burn On" , "You Can Leave Your Hat On"--of Joe Cocker fame--and maybe the title track opening the proceedings). But that group of tunes is not necessarily the one that can boast having the best lyrics though. In other words, it seems like something is always missing in this full-length release... Under that light I'm not including this record in my own list. I'm glad it helped Brian Wilson to get through one of his infamous bouts with depression. I tend to interpret this interesting anecdote as ultimately showing how fragile Wilson's mental state was--given that many parts of this album are actually pretty f*cking hopeless and sinister. But this here isn't why I'm rejecting this LP as an "essential" one. I'm only rejecting it because Randy Newman's usual little tricks already sounded a bit tired by 1972. Later *Good Old Boys* was a bit more mordant. And that eponymous album a couple of years before *Sail Away* had a clearer focus at least. So maybe they're better entry points into Newman's oeuvre, as different as they are... Besides, who in 2023 really thinks there should be *three* frigging Randy Newman LPs in a list of the best albums of all time? Who? Especially when you need room for the likes of Coltrane or Mingus, as another reviewer has aptly pointed out on this app? Or room for relatively newer stuff that already has all the earmarks of a masterpiece? There's not even a single Big Thief album in Dimery's updated list! Jeeze, if you want to understand how you can combine stellar songwriting with terrific musical compositions, that's the way to go. I'm sorry, but as "smart" and "pert" as he is, Randy Newman doesn't have the stellar chops of an Adrienne Lenker. "Quaint" and "trite" can find their way into such a list. But they can't let one single artist take up three slots all by himself. Not by a long shot. 2/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2). Next please. Number of albums left to review: 495 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 239 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 148 (including this one)

An iconic album from an iconic band. What sets Yes apart from all those other legendary prog rock acts from the seventies (Genesis, Jethro Tull, ELP, Gong, Gentle Giant and the likes...) is their groove and energy. Only King Crimson could rock that hard--well, depending on which "period" from their very long career is concerned, at least... *Close To The Edge* was a reputedly difficult album to record, but Yes managed to convey said live energy throughout the complex instrumental interplay in it. Jon Anderson's moving falsetto voice also brings a lot of soul to the proceedings. I admit I've always prefered his live performances, because they were "less perfect", and therefore sounded a little less "distant" to my ears... But this is admitteldy a very minor gripe of mine. And there are enough stellar moments in this magnum opus to make up for Anderson's mannerisms anyway. The melodies are catchy as f*ck, for instance, just as they were in many parts of *The Yes Album* and *Fragile*--patchier affairs for sure, yet ones that are still worth visiting today as well. I remember my review for *Fragile* a year ago being a little severe, by the way. I would probably add another star to my grading of it if I could have a say about it now... Speaking of the band's discography, the very first Yes release I owned was an excellent compilation (*Yesstory*), spanning the band's whole career. Of course, it included the epic title track taking up the first side of *Close To The Edge*. But "Siberian Khatru" was *not* in this compilation, which was a bummer for sure. That's how I ended up buying *Close To The Edge* as well. I don't have much room left in my small prog rock shelf, but I'll probably acquire *Fragile* or *The Yes Album* soon. And I'm pretty sure other seventies albums released by this band harbor many treasures I haven't listened to yet... One of the problems of so-called "progressive rock" is that you need to find the time and mindset to discover its gems (a common point it has with jazz). And it's a dynamic that's increasingly hard to reach in this day and age, sadly... 4,5/5, rounded up to a 5/5. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 494 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 240 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 148

No one can say that Rufus Wainwright is a bad writer and performer. His songs are ripe with melodic ideas and interesting one-liners, generally speaking. The thing is, as good as Rufus's skills are, there's not much rhyme or reason in the way the double-feature *Want* was contructed. Maybe a great *single album* lies there somewhere, if Wainwright had been better at self-editing himself. But frankly, I'm not interested enough to recreate said single LP. Because, as decent and lushly produced as the music is in those twin albums, most of their cuts still come off as derivative at the end of the day. And a lot of them even sound pretty quaint, trite, chatty or oversentimental. Which is a huge problem in my book. Some reviewers in here compared Wainwright's voice with the one of Thom Yorke, and I can see why they did so. But if Radiohead dabbled in mock-novelty cuts once in a while, the latter were always mixed up with many different styles. And the whole yet managed to be part of the same connective tissue. *Want One* and *Want Two* are actually far less adventurous when it comes to the genres they use or refer to. And yet they never manage to create such cohesiveness. It's like a catalogue of exercises in styles, with very few songs being instantly memorable, unfortunately. Exceptions in *Want Two* are "Peach Trees", "Waiting For A Dream" and "The Art Teacher", whose fantastic chord sequence--both off-kilter yet immensely poignant and pleasurable--is a great backdrop for this sarcastic but ultimately tender song about a former art student who married her way into big money instead of pursuing love interests in an artistic environment. Opener "Agnus Dei" is also impressive, but it's mostly a moody orchestral introduction. Ambitions are very misplaced in this second volume anyway. Case in point, closer "Old Whore's Diet", a duet with Anhoni from Anthony And The Johnson whose baroque and epic climax can't make up from how ridiculous the first part of the song is--it's basically a reggae track played with all the wrong intents and arrangements. A poorly though-out cut, and also, a poorly executed one. Yuck! It's hard to review *Want Two* without reviewing *Want One*, which has been given a separate slot in the 1001 albums book (one slot for Rufus Wainwright is already arguable, but *two*???!). The highlights there are the rococo opener "What A World"--lush with orchestral quotes form Ravel's Bolero--, more experimental and subdued "Vicious World" and "Want", and the climactic, heartfelt ballads "Go Or Go Ahead" and "Beautiful Child". Oh, and there's the incredibly sour closer "Dinner At Eight", where Rufus narrates a dinner evening with his dad--the folk singer Loudon Wainwright III--going very fucking *wrong*. It's a true story, by the way, and a quick search online shows that Rufus follows an old tradition of the Wainwright extended clan here--one that allows each family member to give jabs at their close relatives through their songs--be they father, son, daughter or exes. Best case scenario, those cuts settle the score, and the whole dysfunctional routine starts again some time after a temporary reconciliation. Quite an endearing family of neurotic artists! Loudon especially, often comes off as an insensitive and stubborn patriarch, as talented as he was as an artist. Waiting for the HBO series that would take inspiration from this weird clan of musicians for its next big hit onscreen... All of this is nice and well, and it sure is interesting. But as I said, and all biographical anecdotes apart, the problem is that there are not enough truly memorable moments in *Want* (one AND two) to justify adding it to this list. The songs I have not quoted in this review (and there are a lot of them!) go from Robbie Williams-like innocuous bland rock-pop cuts to more extravagant cabaret shenanigans, where Wainwright go through his histrionic routine without imprinting it on the listener's mind, very sadly. And I guess in the middle of those two extremities, you can find a bit of Elton John. But without the hits. And without the hits, you can't call a pop-rock album a keeper, be it part of an ambitious double-feature. So next, please. Following the specific purposes of this list of essential albums, I'm giving a 3/5 grade for both *Want One* and *Want Two* (the first still sounds slightly more convincing than the second to me, but the difference is not big enough to bother giving distinct gradings to those two LPs). A grading which translates to a 8/10 for more objective and general purposes (5 + 3)... Number of albums left to review: 493 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 240 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 149 (including this one)

The global score for this one sure prepares you for a wild ride into weird noisy experimental stuff. Only the score of Einsturdenze Neubaten's *Kolaps* (another early "industrial" landmark) is currently lower than the one of *D.O.A.*--a situation that I think is particularly unfair in my book, given that *Kolaps* is far more "musical" (or at least "rhythmical" ) than Throbbing Gristle's unsettling soundscapes. Still, that's quite a feat to be remembered for something that automatically elicits rejection on most listeners' part decades after your release. As the lyrics candidly go on "Hit By A Rock": "Makes me think you don't like my records". Indeed. That said, I'm still glad I've listened to this album, even if I could have lived without doing so. I might have my gripes with this list sometimes, but as I said elsewhere, I think it's important that said weird noisy experimental stuff can find its way in it. The thing is, should *this* particular experimental stuff be deemed as more essential than other examples of it? On which ground can one be selected and the other rejected? This is a difficult question and the jury's still out on this one... The answer may or may mot lie in the way Throbbing Gristle give hints here and there about their awareness that they're writing a future cult classic for a certain sub-type of listeners. Some of those hints are more subtle than the lyrics I've quoted up there (or say, the hilarious parody of the artwork in their other album *20 Jazz Funk Greats*). It's hidden in all the static. But it's there. And it gives the whole endeavor an aura of mystery, as dull as the music is most of the time. Maybe with the right drug, I could get immersed in those soundscapes a little more, however. And even sober, I can recognize the few merits of Throbbing Gristle's "music" once in a while: "Dead On Arrival" could be the soundtrack of a vintage sci-fi flick. "Weeping" (unwittingly?) uses a weird tuning for its different strings that sends you close to a meditative state of mind--yet it's a state of mind at odds with the miserable feelings expressed in the lyrics of this "song" about loneliness within couples or partnerships. I admit the whole thing can... strike a chord indeed. Even if the latter sounds out of tune. "Hamburger Lady" is yet another difficult cut, but sonically speaking, it's rather timeless. Don't get me wrong, it's still dull music, but it's the fact that said dull music was recorded in 1978 that makes it extraordinary: if you said it was an Arca track, no one would notice the difference, for instance. Conversely, "AB/7A" is regressive in the sense that it hearkens back to what Tangerine Dream were doing a few years before this album came out. The track is strangely soothing though. And accessible, which is a rare accurence in this LP. Finally, to end this list of compliments, "E-Coli" reminds me of droning interludes or transitory moments within compositions post-rock bands such as Godspeed You! Black Emperor or Mogwai create once in a while--those recorded talking voices over it create a distinct mood like that... As you can see, I tried very hard to be positive here. But apart from this track sequence right in the middle of *D.O.A...*, the rest sounds utterly meaningless to me, though. Probably because, well, it just *is* meaningless--rationalisations of a couple of bad-faith "rock-critics" notwithstanding. Worse, the whole thing is rather unmemorable--apart from "Weeping" and "AB/7A", maybe--and when you try to shock your audience with how daring and uncompromising you are as an artist, that's a sign that you actually miserably failed at what you were doing. This here is the *worst* crime, and it has nothing to do with your noisy aesthetics. To be perfewctly candid, I really hope this LP can reach the bottom of this list again (it did so in the past), and thus replace Ensturdenze Neubatten's *Kolaps*, which is ten times better (some would say that doesn't make it a great album either given how bad *D.O.A... is, lol... yet I still think a one-star assessment is way too harsh for the German band). Speaking of the "unpopular" section of this app's global stats, there are two or three other acts unfairly stuck in it, by the way--Robert Wyatt and That Incredible String Band come to mind here. Yet generally speaking, when the people speak and express such a clearly *negative* consensus, it's because they have a point. And the fact that they can both reject Limp Bizkit and Throbbing Gristle is a reassuring thought, I have to say. If one day a found a very cheap copy of *D.O.A...* in a record store (strange miracles happen sometimes), maybe I would buy it to listen to it for a second time. Or maybe I would just do it to add a rare curio to my album collection. Just as I could do it for Captain Beefheart's *Trout Mask Replica*. Those sorts of record could have their own section: "the most hated albums of all time"... But let's be honest here, I would NEVER go out of my way to buy those records. And *that* is my own final report on how bad *D.O.A.* is. Number of albums left to review: 492 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 240 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 150 (including *D.O.A.*--and if *really* you want to select a Throbbing Gristle record, I feel like *20 Jazz-Funk Greats* is slightly more accessible, thanks to its more parodic intents. But that's as far as I'll ever go to "defend" this band...)

Going from Throbbing Gristle to Sade, ha ha. I love this app, lol... "Smooth Operator" is an iconic track. So eighties. Feels like I'm in a taxi in New York or Chicago at night, going down an avenue lined with skyscrapers lighted like so many christmas trees. The cab driver is listening to news about Ronald Reagan on the radio, and then this hit single turns up. I'm looking through the window, and I watch all the people going in and out of buildings and subway entrances. It's beautiful... All trips down memory lane aside, let's just be honest for one second, though. What Sade performed was the worst kind of elevator music, was it not? And yes, this even includes "Smooth Operator", which I *like*. As fine as that single is, after so many clones of it in the tracklisting, I feel like it is just impossible for Sade's music to be taken seriously. Because *Diamond Life* did not age well, to say the least. All the sounds are conventional (apart from a discreet synth in "I Will Be Your Friend"), the melodies, chords and harmonies are rather unremarkable, and the rhythm section ticks all the boxes of what a band playing in a hotel lobby is supposed to do. Having a competent band and a beautiful voice is not enough: you need some sort of creative spark somewhere. And this LP doesn't have it. I also want to strangle that sax player, by the way. If I ever hear another one of those bland cheesy solos, I'm gonna go positively insane, lol. *Cherry Pie*'s groove was quite OK--one of the rare tracks that was so--and I couldn't help noticing that no saxophone was involved in it. So when said saxophone reappeared in the very first seconds of the next track, I burst out laughing. Listening to this album is like playing hide and seek with that lethal saxophone, hoping it never catches you again in your scariest nightmares. *Diamond Life* will now join that Throbbing Gristle album in my list of one-star albums, very ironically. Mark my words, such a low grading is only done for the purposes of this list of so-called "essential" albums. It equals a 6/10 grade for more general purposes: 5 for the competent songwriting, the skilled performance, and the professional production values, to which I would add 1 point for the inspiration and memorable results that are mandatory for an "essential" record. Maybe without that damn saxophone I would have added two points instead of one. Sadly, we'll never know... Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 491 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 240 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 151 (including this one)

All funny obsessions about Saturday Night Fever aside, I fully agree with the review currently topping this section. As iconic as *Shaft*'s main theme is, there are plenty of better movie soundtrack albums out there. And this even if you stick to the ones with music specifically composed for a film, instead of a compilation of previously recorded stuff, à la "Pulp Fiction" or "Guardians of The Galaxy". Said music can be orchestral, obviously ("Star Wars", "The Lord Of The Rings" and "The Godfather"'s different soundtrack albums; the ones of Ennio Morricone for Sergio Leone's iconic spaghetti westerns ; Philip Glass's "Koyaanisqatsi", "Kundun" and "The Hours", Danny Elfman's long list of scores for Tim Burton). They can go from older stuff related to Hollywood's golden age ("The Night Of The Hunter", "The Wizard Of Oz", "Casablanca", Leonard Bernstein's "West Side Story".. Bernard Hermann's work for Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho" and "Vertigo"...) to very recent films (Hans Zimmer's soundtracks for Christopher Nolan, for instance). Such scores can also be synthetic (Vangelis' "Blade Runner"--but also his less famous "Apocalypse Des Animaux", "Opéra Sauvage" and "The Chariots Of Fire" ; plus Giorgio Moroder's "Midnight Express", Brian Eno's "Appolo" soundtrack, Zimmer's work for Denis Villeneuve's "Dune" and John Carpenter's compositions for his own films...) or jazzy (Miles Davis' "Ascenseur Pour L'Echafaud" ; Bernard Hermann's "Taxi Driver"). Sometimes they can even be *both* synthetic and jazzy--see Angelo Badalamenti's stellar oeuvre for David Lynch, mostly "Blue Velvet", "Mulholland Drive" and both the "Twin Peaks" TV series and film soundtracks. They can also be related to traditional music (Goran Bregovic's scores for Emir Kusturica, Geinoh Yamashirogumi's "Akira"), or moodpieces defying categories altogether (Ry Cooder's "Paris Texas" ; Neil Young's "Dead Man"). And, last but not least, they can be collections of original songs ("West Side Story", once again, but also "Grease", "The Rocky Horror Picture Show", Björk's poignant musical for Lars Von Trier's "Dancer In The Dark", the rap-rock mash-up "Judgment Night", Elton John's "The Lion King", the Kendrick Lamar-produced "Black Panther"--and, well, yes, good old "Saturday Night Fever"!). I could even include "The Blues Brothers" in this category, since it was mostly *new* recordings of older songs... So why not start there, instead of this frankly uneven double album by Isaac Hayes? IDon't get me wrong, I'm not saying each one of my references up there should be included in a list of 1001 "essential" albums--I understand that the purpose of Dimery's list is first and foremost to select stellar examples of the album format, and this independently of any other art form such as movies or TV series. But you should at least take into account the long and rich history of film scoring before selecting a movie soundtrack. Especially when said soundtrack is a rather patchy affair, with many unmemorable instrumental cuts that seem to be caught in their own "illustrative" agenda, instead of fully evoking the events they supposedly illustrate. Among those instrumental cuts, only the two referencing "Cafe Regio" manage to create a little tension, thanks to the obsessive one-note guitar licks displayed there. But honestly, the rest sounds like elevator music to my ears. And that's where you can draw the line between effective and less effective work, and this in *both* film scoring and music played for its own sake. Speaking of better soundtracks out there, I almost forgot to mention the one of another famous blaxploitation flick, *Superfly*, which allowed Curtis Mayfield to write one of his best LPs. Good *albums* is what you and I are here for, after all, and that's where the difference between the two examples gets crucial. *Superfly* is enjoyable through and through. You don't need to have watched the movie to get into it (I haven't, actually), there's more than one memorable theme song in its awesome tracklisting, and you *fully* understand the thematic groundwork of the film as you go through it. It's like listening to a regular "essential" album, plus it goes way beyond its "illustrative" function. All sorts of assets that *Shaft* doesn't really have, except in the song "Soulville" and the 20-minute jam "Do Your Thing", maybe. Isaac Hayes's work was influential when it set a template for other blaxploitation films. And the main theme song he composed was memorable and funky for sure. But as far as "essential" albums go, I think *Shaft* fails to hit the mark, really. Number of albums left to review: 490 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 240 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 152 (including this one)

UK ska/two-tone masterpiece (RIP, Terry Hall). Lots and lots of lively or endearing tunes. Ideal for a holiday soundtrack. Which is why, this time, I won't bother writing a damn review, and just fully enjoy the music instead. Number of albums left to review: less than 500 (I've temporarily lost count) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one). Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

One of the most heartbreaking albums in my record collection. The first time I listened to a Will Oldham song, it was the version of this LP's title track he performed with Johnny Cash on the latter's swan album *American IV: The Man Comes Around*. I instantly fell in love with this very emotional tune about friends getting old and disillusioned, and yet being loyal to each other until the very end... The only (small) problem with this Bonnie "Prince" Billy record is that it doesn't include this version with Johnny Cash (his gravelly voice, coupled with Will's fragile harmonies, does wonders in this reenactment). But no worries, the original version is still a terrific tear-inducing gem, like many other songs in this record... 2.98 is a global score that's way too low for it by the way. What's wrong with people? Can't they handle sadness in music? Or do they have issues with grassroots aesthetics where the instrumentation and vocals are deliberately out of place--therefore adding a subsequent layer of fragility that makes the whole thing so poignant? This record is all about entropy and death, folks! Of course, it can't be "neat" and "clear-cut". Form and contents are artfully (and touchingly) echoing each other here, as they should be. I thought about this unfair global score, and rather than reviewing the songs of this album, I'm gonna 'review the reviews', so to speak--at least the ones currently topping this section. I want to make it clear that the people who take part in making this album so low in the global score have the right to express their subjective tastes, of course... And yet their reviews often prove that they are ill-equipped to do so in a convincing manner--at least for this sort of lo-fi, anti-folk record. Excerpt of review A (currently topping the section). Grade given to *I See A Darkness*: 1/5 "After listening to the album “I See a Darkness”, I don’t see a darkness. I hear a silence. Sorry to have wasted your time, dear reader." No you havent wasted my time at all. Because some of the ways you've described this album before that conclusion are actually the very reasons I love it. "Sometimes, legitimate poetic expressions seem to sit high on a throne of non-referential, non-allusive obscurity, holding a scepter of grammar-be-damned nonsense and crowned with a greater than ordinary vocabulary. But that doesn’t make them good as lyrics". Well, actually it does sometimes. As in here. Oldham's poetry is both oblique and direct and that's why it's so effective. "A lyricist has one shot at grabbing the listener by the passions, and on this album, Bonnie “Prince” Billy has missed wildly". A weird way to say that the passions in question were so overwhelming that this particular listener couldn't handle them. As for the rest of the review and the supposedly "poor" qualities of the instrumentation and vocal performances, see what I wrote up there about the "entropic" qualities of this record and how they match the theme of death... My grading for this review: 2.5/5. It's still a cohesive argumentation, even if reading between the lines of said argumentation reveals potential contradictions or self-blinding aesthetical prejudices... The worst is to come, though. Fortunately, review B (5/5 for the album) is simple, direct and extremely positive: "Fantastic. Hauntingly beautiful from start to finish." Well, here's a concise way to phrase your opinion. I should probably take a page out of this reviewer's book, lol. My grading for this review: 4.5/5. With another short sentence or a punchline at the end, this would be perfect. Next review, review C (4/5 for the album) is an absolute gem. I'm so jealous of the person who wrote it. Which is why its entire contents deserve to be copied here: "You have to be on a little bit of a sad streak for this album to hit right. Luckily for me, I picked this one up in the late afternoon on the second shortest day of the year, after my girlfriend had just left to go home. So, as the late afternoon crept into a very dark Vermont evening, I put this album on, and it was perfect. A world unto its own." My grading of this review: 5/5. Perfect, honest, personal, heartfelt, evocative. I would love to be in Vermont and listen to this record with this person right now. Review D (3/5 for the album): "Meh. Kinda boring" Just like what you've just written, pal. See how a positive review up there just added a simple adverb to actually describe the damn thing ("*hauntingly* beautiful). You can do that in a negative review, you know. 0.5/5. Review E (5/5 for the album): "a depressing and optimistic ode to survival". Change "and" with "yet", and you have a properly expressed take. But I fully concur with the sentiment expressed here. There's a beautiful duality to what Will Oldham crafts in *I See A Darkness*. 4/5 for this one. Review D is another very positive review (5/5 for the album) and it's a "classic" exploration of the LP track by track. Just read it. Love how its description of opener "A Minor Place" unwittingly points to the fact that the song is one of the few actually relying on *major* chords, ironically. That opener is surely a "soft" way to start this very dark journey. I do couldn't better in this "classic" mode, so 5/5 for this particular example... Now here comes the ridiculous stuff. Review G gave 1/5 to the album, and it's dumb takes after dumb takes. So dumb that it becomes hilarious: "It sounded like an elementary school lunch room when the kids were getting too rowdy. I kept begging for that 1 teacher who could stick their fingers in their mouth and make that ear piercing whistle to create SILENCE!" That person surely never had to handle or manage of group of kids. This is NOT how you create silence in a lunchroom filled with them, ha ha. At least in the long run. So much for your weird metaphor here. Learn that metaphor are as unpredictable as children: unproperly handled, they can escape your grasp and undermine your supposed "authority". And that's where you start to look foolish. Believe me, I've been there as well. But you can learn. You can always learn. "Then the rest of the album was just shit. If I wanted to hear a shitty story by a boring guy with his guitar I'd join a commune. Literally fuck this album." So graciously put. I'm glad no commune will have to bear with your bad manners, at least. As for the album being "shit", how am I supposed to trust the tastes of a person who rates The Stooges, Pixies, Television and Kendrick Lamar with 1/5 grades??? How? And by " I ", I mean 80-90% of the people in this group, most probably... 0/5 for this dumb assessment. Thanks for nothing. Going a little further to another 1/5 review (exhibit L). It starts with a restaurant metaphor that's not too bad to express your dissatisfaction with the album's "menu". Unfortunately, it ends with one of the most ridiculous things I have ever read on this app: "Just glad this isn't on Spotify." Oh, because being on Spotify is the 100% reliable sign that you're playing good music now??? Well, I have a lot of counterexamples to offer. And you probably have some too, no matter what your tastes are. A lot of music lovers (old AND young) are still buying physical copies of albums, by the way. You probably already know this, right? As you probably know that not being on a certain platform has nothing to do with the supposed quality of your music. I'm afraid you are confusing the message with the "pipes" and other broadcasting means that are bringing said message to you... Here's how algorithms are turning certain folks into sheep. Mark my words, I'm not against the technology itself. But I'm appalled by the way some folks are so under its sway that they become unable to reach critical thinking that would make a shred of sense. Which takes the cake when you're using this app. 1/5 for this reviewer's lack of articulate thought here. I'm gonna end this strange experiment, and I promise I won't attempt to do this again. I'm afraid some readers might take this the wrong way... The point is not to say who's *right* or who's *wrong*. The point is to state which reviews of this album are the most articulate and convincing. Under that light, let me conclude with a quote from another reviewer who was actually rather unconvinced by *I See A Darkness* (giving a 3/5 grading to it). What's great about this quote is that this particular reviewer found a beautiful way to express a detail that I absolute love in the album: "Oldham’s overlayed vocals don’t harmonize so much as skitter like moths bashing randomly into each other." Now that's a GREAT metaphor if I've never read one. And a 5/5 way to sum things up. I think that whenever I listen to *I See A Darkness*, I also see those moths flying around the feeble light of a forlorn bulb at night. That's the sort of "darkness" I can contemplate. And this other reviewer has seen it too, even if they didn't like that spectacle as much as I did. Their review is the sorts of sincere, sensitive, personal and aptly-phrased takes I'll always be drawn to. Just as I'm drawn to the similarly sincere, sensitive, personal and aptly-phrased offerings of Bonnie 'Prince' Billy. Like moths to a flame, I would even say... Number of albums left to review: 488 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 242 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 152

It's too bad Frank Zappa never wrote and performed soundtracks for early Thomas Pynchon novels, also celebrating / gently mocking freaks, misfits and their "counter-culture". The Mothers' carnivalesque sound would have been a great match for those novels. Not to mention those gorgeous, gorgeous kazoos, also an obsession of the author of *V*, *The Crying Of Lot 49* and *Gravity's Rainbow* (among many others). A little more seriously, what I like about this record is that some of its pastiche or experimental aspects are subtle enough to go unnoticed on certain tracks--even if they're pretty obvious towards the end of this double album. Pretty sure Tom Wilson had a blast recording them, given that he initially thought the Mothers were just another white blues band after he has only listened to "Trouble Every Day" (a pastiche of Bob Dylan himself mimicking older blues cuts). Of course, they were so much more than that. This initial verstality of Zappa and his band (between spoofing dada impulses and genuine songwriting qualities) is why this mock-"conceptual" record remains easily digestible, even today. Because the music remains pretty catchy a lot of the time. And it's always nice when there are several ways understand or appreciate an LP. As in here or Captain Beefheart's *Safe As Milk*, for instance--another record displaying similar aesthetics. Zappa fans will probably tell you that their idol made far better albums after this famous debut. As of now I find that claim dubious, but I haven't listened to every major LP released by the mustachioed troublemaker, it's true. And I remember giving 4 stars to *Hot Rats*, an album I also like a lot. Let's just say that I find Dimery's "selection" of Zappa's key albums pretty convincing so far... In that spirit I should probably give 4 stars to *Freak Out* as well, then. Even if I now realize I could have gone higher than that for both records. Maybe it's time to reassess them both now... Number of albums left to review: 487 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 243 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 152

It sure is an influential record for the whole grunge wave, but *Superfuzz Bigmuff* is technically an EP (later expanded into a compilation). If Dimery betrayed his own rules for his list, I can't see why he didn't include other pivotal EPs (say, Beck's *Loser* or Godspeed You! Black Emperor's *Slow Riot For New Zero Canada*). And if you consider this record as a compilation instead, you must then include far more important ones (like The Buzzcocks' *Singles Going Steady*, The Beatles' red and blue albums, or even Bob Marley's *Legend*). I'm giving four stars to this EP, but it's the very rare case where I won't include it in my own list. Rules matter sometimes, don't they? Even for unruly bands such as Mudhoney. So next, please. Number of albums left to review: 486 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 243 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 153, including this one.

Can't tell you how surprised I was by that weird deep synth sound blasting through my speakers the first time I listened to the first seconds of "Save The Life Of My Child". Funny to think that not so far from that New York studio, where this LP was recorded, young misfits named Silver Apples also experimented with synthesizers at the time--even if they did way, way MORE experimentation with this new instrument, ha ha. Trying very hard (too hard?) to find a connection between two acts no one has ever made before, apart from their common home in the Big Apple. Probably because everyone else in here has already explained how this album pans out, and I feel I have nothing else original to add. To be honest, I was never fully sold on the supposed "concept" behind said album, but who cares? As topsy-turvy as the tracklisting is, a lot of those tracks are still iconic songs ("America", "Mrs. Robinson" , "A Hazy Shade Of Winter", " At The Zoo"...), just like the ones in *Sounds Of Silence* or *Bridge Over Troubled Water*. And those three LPs I've just mentioned sure deserve to be in this list. Life's simple sometimes. Even if it's short and bittersweet, as this LP suggests once in a while. 4,5 stars, rounded up to 5. Number of albums left to review: 486 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 244 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 153.

Feel like I'm not going to reconcile the two *very* differing views about this album currently topping this section. So be it. The first aptly expresses what's great about this record--with that guitar "weaving" thing for instance. Too bad that same review only evoked the potential "problems" with the lyrical contents of certain songs without offering anything ressembling much of a solution or resolution. But maybe there isn't any satisfactory solution to this conundrum anyway, which is why *Sticky Fingers* is also a document about the age when it was released. Said record indeed irresponsibly tackled with misogynistic and borderline racist takes once in a while, I'm not gonna deny that. But I'll be damned if the way the Stones used those tricky topics to write their stellar songs ain't effective and evocative as fuck. As for the second review, I don't see the point it's trying to make, beyond a subjective "I don't like the music". Comparing the Stones to Led Zeppelin is like comparing apples and oranges anyway. Everyone "liking" this review probably misses the point as well. It's OK to *not* like the Stones. But if you want to offer as much as a convincing explanation for your hot take, you need to be a little more articulate than that. Many fans are around the corner, aren't they? Not that anyone's opinion matters, be it positive or negative. Keith Richards is gonna bury us all anyway, lol. So why bother? What can I add? *Sticky Fingers* is one of the best Rolling Stones ever, period. And among their other masterpieces (*Aftermath*, *Beggars Banquet*, *Let It Bleed* and *Exile On Main Street*), it's certainly the most *cohesive* of the bunch. The many grassroots blues cuts scattered on those other LPs are surely endearing, and they bring interesting moods and flavors. But let's be realistic, they're also fillers between the hits. Whereas in *Sticker Fingers*, there's almost no filler to speak of: the grassroots blues interludes are kept at a very strict minimum, and the vast majority of the tracks packs a punch, be it a rocker ("Brown Sugar", "Bitch"), a rhythm'n'blues-induced demonic jam ("Can't You Hear Me Knocking"), a drug-addled tale of sorrow ("Sister Morphine", co-written with Marianne Faithfull), a country cut ("Dead Flowers"), or a poignant ballad ("Wild Horses" and "Moonlight Mile", up there with "You Can't Always Get What You Want", "Salt Of The Earth" and "Angie" in that pantheon of the best Stones ballads ever). Oh, and the Andy Warhol artwork sure is iconic. Only his own Velvet Underground banana can beat it. 5 stars, what else? Number of albums left to review: 485 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 245 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 153.

That one is tricky to explain. I'm gonna start with the positive stuff. The Cardigans are awesome composers and performers, and this album displays productions values that all-around nice and effective. Those chord changes are quite brilliant, anyone with an ear for those sorts of details can tell you this. And this, even if--like me--your ear is badly educated or trained... That being said, the songs use so many of those spectacular chord modulations that the results make me feel queasy after a while. I know it's just a matter of personal taste here, but sometimes a good ol' E - G - A - C chord sequence can do the trick. It all depends on the vocal melody and its harmonies over said sequence (or subsequent flourishes *after* those basic chords). You can write great vocal lines over quite banal chords. Actually, that's probably one of the trickiest thing to accomplish when you're tackling pop aesthetics. But here The Cardigans constantly up the ante. They won't stick to anything banal for sure. Which sometimes works *against* the songs and what they're supposed to be. Off-kilter chord modulations can often suggest bittersweet feelings, which is the aim of most of the tracks here. But if you're too cute about the whole thing, you end up erasing the "bitter" part of that adjective, and merely sound sweet instead. As in *sugarcoated*. I guess that's probably where my queasiness comes from when I listen to this record. In spite of all those modal shenanigans, many tunes in this album admittedly remain catchy enough. "Heartbreaker" and "Happy Meals" first come to mind as examples of how The Cardigans can shine in that regard. Yet it's as if their usual harmonic sophistication--worthy of a musicologist's early studies--hampered genuine emotions to be expressed. Take those funny winks to Black Sabbath, for instance. They're found in three separate moments, including an admittedly great cover of "Iron Man"... Sure, those moments are fun. But they also keep hammering home the idea that this band might be too smart for their own good to convey feelings that would sound 100% sincere. Sprinkle too many references in your tunes, even subliminal ones, and you might end up sounding like a pompous fop. Which takes the cake when you're quoting Black (bloody) Sabbath, among other things... I don't really know how to put all this into words. The whole thing is a little too... *studied*? *Scholarly*? And then again, the first track, "Your New Cuckoo", still manages to sound trite and tired. And speaking of trite, "Lovefool" (of *Romeo + Juliet* fame) can be quite annoying, depending on the mood you're in. Sure, that track has been overplayed to death on radios all over the western world and beyond... But overplayed or not, this LP still manages to sound *both* sugary and cynical as a consequence of the composers' peculiar choices. It's that distinctive pastiche aspect found in a lot of the tunes--both the good and the not-so-good ones--and it can get on my nerves sometimes. As far as musicianship goes, there's a solid backbone to this thing, from Nina Persson's enticing voice to the musicians performing with her. I just wish there was a similarly solid backbone in terms of "spirit" and emotions, instead of all the simpering and other affected posturing I'm sensing in this band. Am I the only person feeling this here? So in spite of all the talents involved, I'd say *First Band On the Moon* still verges on being a mixed-bag thing--at least as far as "essential" albums go in my own book... 3/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Next, please... Number of albums left to review: 484 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 245 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 154 (including this one)

I remember hating this record when I first listened to it. Always thought that songs from this debut album could be used as soundtrack for that ridiculously campy "Love Boat" TV series. Brings a big stupid grin to my face. That funky bartender was a cool dude, was he not? Too bad I can't remember his name, or the ones of the other characters. That's how high my cheese-o-meter actually is when I think about Chicago. I make a point listening to whichever record is popping out in this app, at least if I'm not deeply familiar with it. I've been doing this everyday for a year and a half now. And this implies checking on records I thought I hated. There's been a few cases when I actually changed my mind about a musician or artist. And I always keep that in mind... So I was about to listen to that Chicago album again, after browsing through the top of the review section. Until I found this conclusion in one of the reviews: "If you can’t fall in love with this album, there’s something wrong with you." Seriously? I know that when people are enthusisastic about an album, they can get carried away. But there's a limit. This conclusion gives you the (probably wrong) impression that all fans of Chicago are twats. Which is a bit of a problem. Thing is, I don't want to end up like a twat. So I'll stick to my first impression that this Chicago debut is a cheesefest of epic proportion that has nothing interesting to bring musically except overblown jazzy horn parts and pyrotechnic (read *self-indulgent*) guitar solos. And I'll also stick to my initial impression that those many flourishes can't hide how frigging naive, dumb, trite and derivative the songwriting and basic compositions actually are. So I think I'll take the day off, for a change, and listen to 2023 albums instead. Maybe Geese's *3D Country*, or that latest Lana Del Rey LP. Or Shame's *Food For Worms*. Or *Mid-Air*, by Paris Texas. Well, anything *but* Chicago. Call that a protest of sorts. If really loving this record makes you utter that sort of line I've just quoted as a result, I'd rather not take that risk. In other words, you can't bully anyone to love an album. Oh and if that reviewer is reading me now, hear this out : If you can’t fall in love with Pixies's *Doolittle*, there’s something wrong with you. *Deeply* wrong. So tell me, pal: how does it feel taking your own medicine? The real issue is not that we are disagreeing about an album. It's the *way* you're expressing your opinion. Even that review you wrote about the Rolling Stones' *Sticky Fingers* (a record I actually love) had wrong moments, amid takes about it that were admittedly great. So don't expect to sound convincing for another record made by a band that has been overrated for decades. Especially when said album is clearly fifty notches under that Stones classic. 1.5/5 for the purposes of this list (I'm grading the album here, not that person's review, lol). Which translates to a 6.5/10 grade for more general purpose (5 + 1.5). The final build-ups of "Beginnings" and "Poem 50" are quite good, to be honest, and "I'm A Man" has a catchy chorus. Too bad that track is actually a cover. Didn't realize that before listening to the song again, by the way. But I guess it makes sense that the only tune worthy of interest comes from outside the band. Because, yes, I did listen to this record again, eventually--and this in spite of my earlier protest. I love music too much to let a reviewer with badly-phrased takes ruin my passion for it. Number of albums left to review: 483 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 245 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 115 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155 (including this one)

Nice samba-bossa-jazz soundtrack. File next to that famous Getz/Gilberto LP (both display a different version of "Desafinado", by the way). With a cool, airy soundtrack such as this one, I don't feel like writing a review today. Sometimes it's nice to stop and smell the roses... Number of albums left to review: 482 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 245 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 116 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155

This very short review of the album is spot on: "Begins like a John Carpenter soundtrack - very exciting. Then some catchy indie-dance reminding me of Hot Chip collaborating with Beta Band. Good music." Couldn't phrase it better. So I'm not gonna add anything. I somehow missed this band when they released this debut. But I've since caught up with them. Their 2021 LP (Glowing In The Dark) was pretty good. But their 2023 release (Off Planet) is just awful. A cheesefest of epic magnitude. Even worse than The 1975. Which is quite a feat, I gotta say. 🙃 To return to this debut, I'm gonna put this in my "waiting list" to see if it grows on me. I enjoyed quite a lot of this record. But somehow, I'm not so sure it's gonna stay with me in the long run. Wait and see. Number of albums left to review: 481 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 245 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 117 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155

Just talked about this album with a friend last night. For him it's the best Joy Division studio album out of the two classic LPs they released, because he prefers the overall sound, aesthetics and *mood* of this one, even though his favorite songs are in *Unknown Pleasures*. And for me it's the exact opposite! Funny how those things go... That's it. I manage to write the word "funny" in a review about a Joy Division album. Needless to say, *both* albums by them are 5-stars ones for me and my friend. For me *Closer* offers a "peaks-and-valleys" experience, but the peaks ("Isolation", "A Means To An End" "Heart And Soul", "Twenty Four Hours"...) are so frigging high and the valleys none too deep, so it's still the equal of that iconic debut. I also noticed that many of the very best moments of *Closer* are on the second side (it was rather the opposite in *Unknown Pleasures*). So it has a different dynamic, one that uses build-up and slow-burn. I've always had a tender spot for LPs that manage to work this way... Not that opener "Atrocity Exhibition" isn't effective, mind you. Like its title implies, it is psychologically and sonically atrocious, and yet that's where its deranged beauty lies. The way Ian Curtis invites the listener into the terrors of his suffering mind always makes me shudder. "This is the way, step inside!". I've always been curious to hear how Peter originally envisioned his experimental guitar noise in the background before producer Martin Hannett tampered with it through delay effects. I have a feeling the album opener would have been even greater--event though I'm aware Hannett also often had great ideas for the band's sound. As for closer "Decades", it is a perfect gem whose synth-laden harmonies, just like the ones of 'Isolation", foretell the "Love Will Tear Us Apart" and then the whole New Order era following Curtis' tragic death. A poignant capper for the album (and for the band itself, sadly). To sum things up, the cover says it all. *Closer* is not a mere album. It's a tomb and an epitaph. That's where its sad and timeless beauty lies. Number of albums left to review: 480 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 246 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 117 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155

Instead of having two albums by Robert Wyatt in this list, I'd rather have *Rock Bottom* exclusively enhanced, and try to find a goddamn way to make most people open their minds (and ears) so that they can finally understand it. I still can't swallow that criminally low global score for that prog rock masterpiece on this app--maybe because it's not exactly "prog rock": it's a thing of its own kind, and that's where its beauty lies. In comparison, *Shleep* has nothing to be *absolutely* ashamed of. Yet it's only a late career highlight for Wyatt--which is good per se, but doesn't necessarily justify its he album opens with the wonderful "Heap Of Sheeps", and it's funny how that track sounds like a classic Brian Eno song from the seventies. Since Eno is co-producing this thing, it shouldn't come as a surprise, I imagine. As for the rest of the album, it goes from excellent compositons ("Maryan", "Sunday In Madrid") to very secondary dirges that are weighted by a free jazz horn section sounding a little too mundane, paradoxically ("The Duchess", "September The Ninth"). Fortunately, tracks such as "Was A Friend" and "Alien" manage to catch that *Rock Bottom* spark. And the last real song in the album, "Blues In Bob Minor" is extraordinary. Believe it or not, Wyatt *raps* on this one, and as you can imagine if you know who Robert is, this sounds very different from your run-of-the-mill rapping. And the music on this extraordinary closer is lively and enticing. That sole track is worth the price of admission here. What made *Rock Bottom* unique is the whole journey it had to offer and *Shleep* is different in the sense that it's only a collection of tracks going from one mood / idea to the next. I understand that its concept is the one of dreams, yet maybe there could have been ways to make the transitions between the songs remind you of the strange connctions dreams have. In a way, *Rock Bottom* did manage to do that better. But it managed to be so many things at once... *Shleep* is more like an afterthought compared to it, as good as some of its songs are. It does linger in your memory. But it doesn't *haunt* you the way *Rock Bottom* does. What can little ponds and brooks, as nice and beautiful as they are, do against an ocean? 3.5/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8.5/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3.5). I'm rounding up to four stars to protest against the low global score of this record. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: less than 500 (I've temporarily lost count) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately. Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

Like David Bowie's *Blackstar* or Leonard Cohen's *You Want It Darker*, this is as much an album as it is a musical last will of sorts. And just like those  other very late masterpieces, it's a devastating experience to go through. In the case of *American IV: The Man Comes Around", 90% of the LP is made out of covers, which is what Johnny Cash had performed for most of his life anyway. But the selection of songs is so pristine and *à propos*, and it resonates so much with who Johnny was at the time, that it's hard to imagine how you can't repond to it in an emotional manner once you've dug into those tunes... Interestingly, it's the sort of emotional response that Trent Reznor--one of the songwriters behind the tracks covered here-- expressed when this album came out. Reznor said that the song "Hurt" doesn't belong to him anymore when he first heard Cash's version of it, and that was so gracious of him to say so. Because, hell yeah, as good as the original was, Johnny's version indeed turns this sadcore junkie anthem to another sort of transcendent experience about old age and death, driven by acoustic guitars, the man's famous deep voice--here turned gravelly--and a relentless note played on the piano. Devastating, as I already said. Likewise, the use of Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus" is another brilliant move. Here Johnny's version turns the synth-blues anthem into a tender moment that's as lighthearted as it can be under the circumstances. The musicians playing with the old country singer are all top-notch--those piano flourishes are lively and even tongue-in-cheek. But somehow the irony of the original version becomes something different here, more akin to a sort of straightforward statement about Cash's faith at the twilight of his life. And it's like that for many other tracks--they are (or feel) "appropriated" by Cash--they become as "personal" as the Jesus in that song, and sometimes go a long way from their original universe to seamless integrate the one of this record. The world of music can't thank producer Rick Rubin enough for initiating this "American" series with Johnny, of which *American IV...* is the crowning achievement. Highlights abound everywhere: the artists covered go from countey luminaries such as Hank Williams and Marty Robbins to The Beatles, Simon And Garfunkel, The Eagles--plus, as stated earlier, quite recent artists at the time the record came out (Depeche Mode and Nine Inch Nails). Cash and Rubin even manage to make Sting look good:  their version of "I Hung My Head" is a gem, and sounds as if it had been written by an outlaw cowboy a century ago. And then there are Cash's original compositions--his old "Give My Love To Rose" and "Tear-Stained Letter", plus a great new song opening the LP: the apocalyptic "The Man Comes Around", about the devil and our devilish times. Add the stellar guests--a (very young at the time) Fiona Apple for a touching duet to perform "Bridge Over Troubled Water", or Nick Cave, or The Eagles' Don Henley--and you get not only an essential album from Cash's looooooong discography, but also an essential album for music per se--and even a historical document, along with a personal retrospective on 20th century music. Now, you can't get more "essential" than that, can you? Number of albums left to review: less than 500 (I've temporarily lost count) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one, of course) Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

It's a rather marvellous LP that I've always found endearing. The Pretty Things picked up the thread already spun by the Beatles' *Sgt. Pepper* to create the first "rock opera" of sorts--and almost nobody listened to it at the time, apparently. Jeeze, what a waste! The first side of the album is extraordinary, and justifies this record being filed next to a masterpiece such as The Zombies' *Odessey and Oracle*. "SF Sorrow Is Born" is a catchy opener. "Bracelet of Fingers" a dreamy experimental gem. "Private Sorrow" and its musings about war has many weird but infectious hooks. And "Balloon Burning" is a scorching psychedelic rocker. Unfortunately, The Pretty Things--literally--lose the plot AND momentum they had on the second part of their story. The tale becomes unfocused through lengthy "dream sections". And appropriately enough, the music meanders once in a while, as good as many moments in it still are. When "Loneliest Person" surges out of the speakers--a sour, short melancholic capper played on an acoustic guitar--you realize that the album is actually over, and it's as if something was missing from the second half of the tale. Maybe that's the point, though, since "SF Sorrow"'s story is about an alienated character with no real purpose in life, dying in an ultimate state of regret about his whole existence. Not sure this "meta" aspect was fully intended by the band, though... At the end of this Spotify version, you can find the singles The Pretty Things recorded around the same time, and among those cuts, "Talkin' About The Good Times" and "Walking Through My Dreams" are absolute gems, worthy of the best Kinks and Beatles songs. Had the band managed to include those stellar tunes in the album's tracklisting (let's say for a double-album), *SF Sorrow* could have become a 5-star LP. This is not what happened, sadly. And so all we have left are "what ifs?", once again aptly resonating with the contents of the record's "story". At least this album is now recognized for the groundbreaking endeavor that it was. And even at the time, it seems that the right people paid attention to it. You can bet your boots that Pete Townshend drew inspiration from *SF Sorrow* for The Who's *Tommy*. And I also have a sneaking suspicion that the description of a "Balloon Burning" in the song of the same name--a striking image for sure, inspired by a famous historical event--was not lost on Jimmy Page and Robert Plant when they decided to find a new moniker for their "New Yardbirds" project. It's all there, in the top-right corner of that album cover, look! A "prophetic" album for sure. 4/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 4). Number of albums left to review: 477 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 248 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 118 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155

English being a second langauge to me, some of its subtleties may go over my head once in a while, or get me confused. A very good example of this is the title of the Oasis *magnum opus*: *(What's The Story) Morning Glory?*, whose exact meaning has eluded me for decades now... Does that title refer to... a morning erection? I know the Gallagher brothers are boneheads about certain things in life. But does that mean they should talk about their boners? As you can probably understand by now, I have absolutely zero interesting take to add about this LP. It's a milestone for Britpop, and so for British rock in general. And this, in spite of a bunch of fillers and questionable production values in the record. The rest of what's good is too damn iconic to be forgotten anyway. If really you insisted and asked me to say a few more words about this album, I could just talk about my 17-year-old stepson. He's into all sorts of music for people his age, but somehow, I don't know why, he fell in love with those songs, among other Oasis "classics". And it was not because of me. I have the CD at home, but it's not as if I played it that much. No, it was through Spotify, and this stepson of mine would never forgive me if I excluded Oasis from a list like this one. If only because of "Wonderwall". Even though, as it's the case for the title of this LP, no one's sure what a "wonderwall" really is all these years after. If we ever *did* know. at some point... Number of albums left to review: 476 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 249 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 118 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155

Did I give 5 stars to the Doors' debut? Has it popped up on the app yet? Can't remember, and I'm too busy to check today. But it seems to me I might have just given four stars to this legendary LP (lots of iconic cuts, but also a couple of fillers, I have to point out...) The reason I'm wondering about all this is because I want to give 5 stars to Love's magnum opus *Forever Changes* (out the same year as that Doors album), but it would be illogical to do so if I only gave four stars to Jim Morrison and co. Aw fuck it. It's gonna be five stars. I gave 5 stars to Captain Beefheart's *Safe As Milk* anyway (*also* out in 1967). This rating thing sometimes turns the use of this app into a an exercise involving all sorts of charts and graphs in your head. Not very "flower power", I have to say. There's always been something a little "elusive" to this clearly essential album, which might explain why it flew under the radar for many years after its sixties heyday--at least until the advent of the internet, which helped put it right where it belonged. Yet it's one of the very rare cases where such elusiveness is actually an asset: you might forget *Forever Changes* melodies and hooks and different moods for a while, but when you spin it, it's as if you discovered a treasure trove all over again. Speaking of flying under the radar, I also love Love's LP that followed that one (the sentence I just wrote is damn weird, ha ha, say it out loud!). It was recorded with a different line-up, still with singer Arthur Lee at the helm. Its name is *Four Sail*, and it's a underrated gem--quite different from *Forever Changes*, because some of its cuts rock harder, but almost equally as good to my ears. It's obvious Dimery's list didn't mention that one. So check it out, folks. Number of albums left to review: less than 500 (I've temporarily lost count) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one, of course) Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

Yee--and I won't stress it very energetically---haaaaaaaaw... aaaawww... aaww... *yawn*. (Had to pay tribute to the best review on this app--and also one of the shortest. It was for Marty Robbins, if my memory serves...). Yeah, Merle Haggard is a pivotal figure for the whole outlaw counrty subgenre, blah blah blah... Yet I will always prefer Robbins, Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings in this category. And also Johnny Cash's deep booming voice, it goes without saying. Merle Haggard might have been the real thing as a San Quentin inmate, OK, I get that. But when Johnny Cash played there (and Folsom!), you can feel a real sense of danger and urgency in those live records. And I'm sorry to say that even with the topics addressed in Haggard's lyrics, there's none of that sense of danger and adventure in the man's frigging *music*. There are some cool guitar licks here and there, I'm gonna give it that. But a lot of it is so damn predictable... All the figures I've mentioned up there have taken some musical risks at some point or another in their long career. And it's a risk I'm not feeling at all in this album. It's an all-too generic example of what Country and Western usually does. Here is the problem I have with many fans of this overall genre, by the way. They always discuss the lyrics (see some examples of that in the reviews)... but they rarely address the music. Because, well, let's be honest for a second : most of the tunes here are objectively interchangeable. Their chord changes are boring as hell. It's flat, VERY flat. Like those endless midwest plains... Then, if I go to more subjective reasons to hate the genre, those tunes provide many example of that for me. Their energy is placid, even totally inert, and unfortunately, it's also devoid of any hypnotic qualities that would redeem those flaws. Being energetic or hypnotic is something other "simple" styles such as punk and reggae do, for instance. But it's very rare for country to go there. Or in that case it becomes... bluegrass. And "I'm a Lonesome Fugitive* is definitely NOT a bluegrass album. Pretty sure many country fans will be angered by this review. But even though I always try to keep an open mind (hence my interest for Nelson and Cash), I'd rather be honest here. It's a little brutal, I admit it. But I hear that's how outlaws act sometimes, don't they? 2/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general (and less biased?) purposes (5+2). Next please. Number of albums left to review: 474 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 250 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 119 (maybe for Haggard's historical importance for C&W, in spite of my low grading) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155

Rather charming example of "Tropicalía". The opener with that name has impressive arrangements and instrumentation for instance... Am I *fully* charmed by this whole LP though? The jury's still out on this one... I might first need to get acquainted a little more to this sound and its peculiar wonders. Call it a cultural blind spot... And I might also need little more time to do this. As a consequence, this is going to my "waiting" list... Number of albums left to review: 473 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 250 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 120 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155

1983 was such a horrid year for music. There's only 8 or 9 albums that I know of who deserved 5 stars that year. Quite low compared to most other years... Under that light, *She's So Unusual* was a needed breath of fresh air at the time. Typical new-wave-inspired mainstream pop, but what singles it out is Cindy Lauper's stellar vocal performance. And honestly, the songs are good, whether they are originals (the heartfelt ballad "Time After Time", hard-driven yet deliciously campy "She Bop"), or covers (the legendary "Girls Just Want To Have Fun", a tune that literally know one had heard of before Cindy's timeless rendition of it ; or "All Through The Night", beating it out of the park compared to Jules Shears' initial version ; or Prince's "When You Were Mine"...) There's also a couple of fillers on side two that I won't bother mentioning here. But all in all, it's a pretty solid pop album that aged particularly well, in spite of aesthetics fully anchored into the eighties. 4/5. Number of albums left to review: 472 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 251 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 120 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 155

I've read that the live album *No Sleep 'til Hammersmith* is also in Dimery's list. In that case, I'll keep that live album and reject this one studio LP to save some room in my own list. Both records contain great version of "Ace Of Spades", but the live album has many other essential by the band. Trying hard to save some space on the shelves here... 3/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 471 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 251 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 120 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 156 (including this one--nothing wrong with it, though... Just want to save some space).

An unsung masterpiece. Got to know Fred Neil through two things: Nilsson's version of "Everybody's Talking" for *Midnight Cowboy*, of course, but also the use of "Dolphins" for a quite memorable scene in the arguably best TV series of all time *The Sopranos*--during which Christopher Moltisanti is high on heroin and tripping in a funfair at night. Those two tracks are the two highlights of the album for sure. But "Badi-Da", " Everything Happens" and "Sweet Cocaine" stellar as well. Such a huge talent, and such a perfect crooning voice. 5/5. Number of albums left to review: 470 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 252 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 120 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 156

Mad respect for Bob Mould, but I think the NME were way over their heads when they selected this first outing of his new act post-Hüsker Dü as the best album of 1992. Especially when you count all the better releases of that year (ones from Pavement, Beastie Boys, Sonic Youth, PJ Harvey, The Pharcyde, Rage Against the Machine, The Goats, REM... Not to forget Tom Waits, The Cure, Neil Young, Swans, Gang Starr or Tori Amos...). 1992 is one year after Nirvana's *Nevermind*. I can picture a bunch of British rock critics desperately trying to link all those new "alternative" rock bands to some other artist they were more familiar with. Heck, even Mould himself does a pretty convincing imitation of Pixies in the second track of this album. "Convincing", I said... Which does not necessarily mean "thrilling" as well. The times, they were a-changing fast in 1992. It was hard for everyone (the music press AND the musicians) to catch up... The thing is, even in that field of "alternative" leftovers from the eighties--with a clear bridge to the past "indie" aesthetics and sound of that former decade--you had acts such as The Lemonheads that year, with a more striking album compared to that one here. *Copper Blue* is still a very decent record, don't get me wrong. Yet Sugar didn't add much to Hüsker Dü's legendary legacy when they released it. Besides, some of the tracks are too long (they often hit the 5-minute mark for no discernible reason). And others a little too predictable in their pop developments. Sorry, Bob Mould fans. Number of albums left to review: 470 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 252. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 120 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 157 (including this one)

Wish I could *fully* agree with that review favourably comparing Mekons with Viagra Boys. I can see the relation here, musically, lyrically and conceptually. So, all in all, it sure is an apt comparison. Yet for now, it seems to me that Viagra Boys' music is a tad bit more propulsive and textured (not to mention jazzier and funkier) than this mix of punk, folk and country from the eighties. Both acts are weird, sure. But I prefer my "weird" with funnier and catchier hooks. At least this record doesn't have all the usual new wave or mainstream production pitfalls of that dreadful decade. Which makes it endearing, I guess... 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Putting this LP on my "waiting list". We'll see if I bump into it again, and if it grows on me... Number of albums left to review: 469 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 252. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 121 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 157

Not exactly a hip hop masterpiece, but certainly THE rap blockbuster album of 2005. Some fillers, but mostly a long string of cuts that slap hard, thank to Dre's production and 50 Cent's distinct flow. I will always prefer more conscious strands of hip hop rather than this gangsta rap thing (and oddly, enough, also favor *some* of the sonic explorations of the recent trap subgenre, even if the lyrics are mostly dumb). That said, this album is culturally relevant as a whole. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of essential albums, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 470 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 252. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 122 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 157

I'm on my annual biking trip, and there was neither wifi nor available cellphone network where slept last night. Sitting this one out. Will listen to it later. Have enough memories of Gotan Project to know it's not my thing though... Neutral 3/5 grade. Number of albums left to review: less than half. This one goes to my "waiting list" (neither nor...). Next please.

Endearing LP with a cult status for many fans of indie rock. There's a bunch of cuts that are phenomenal. *Alien Lanes* also has its share of fillers, though, and its atmospheric qualities don't fully make up for them. Guided By Voices have never been interested in self-editing, that's for sure. Which is why I put this album on hold when it comes to give it the "essential" tag. Hope there will be room left for it in my own selection. Not sure there will be though. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: less than 500 Number of essential album: half so far. Number of albums I *might* select as such later on: a quarter (including this one) Number of album I won't select: another quarter.

Never knew the Gnarls Barkley singer had a solo career on the side. Wish I never knew, though. His high-pitched voice is grating, at least in this particular LP, his flow is annoying as hell, and the music is lackluster and devoid of anything remotely endearing (Timbaland and Neptunes/Pharell Williams contributions notwithsatnding). It's MOR neo-soul, which aged pretty horribly, to boot. Plus, the man himself seems to be kind of an ass. See the "controversies" part of his wikipedia page. Next please Number of albums left to review: 467 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 252. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 124 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 158 (including this one)

Even in my wildest dreams, I never imagined I would one day appreciate a Pet Shop Boys song, not to mention *several ones of them*. To be clear, the first two tracks are pretty dreadful, all cheese and no real substance. But after them, I actually enjoyed *each and every one* of the songs!!! "Shopping" is a snarly, topical cut picking up the ball right where Kraftwerk had left it a few years earlier. Cynical yet bittersweet "Rent" is a small wonder, lyrically, musically and arrangements-wide. And "I Want To Wake Up" is an infectious earworm. Those three stellar tracks slap, there's no doubt about that. And the rest is very good. Apart from the two duds opening the album, that is. As a consequence, *Actually* still sounds like a mixed bag for me (openers are usually essential to *fully* enjoy a record). But I'm putting this album in my waiting list nonethelles. And that's a surprise for me, probably one of the biggest surprises I've had since I started using this app. Number of albums left to review: 466 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 252. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 125 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 158

Was supposed to interview King Gizzard And the Lizard Wizard for a webzine at a festival today. But the band cancelled all interviews at the last minute to shoot a video by the seaside. So what I'm doing instead is sit idly for the concerts to begin near the artists' lodges. Not because the artists are there, but because I need wifi to listen to today's... well... to listen to today's "album". Sometimes life serves you milk and honey. And sometimes it's just a platter of smelling turds. I feel like "L" is written on my forehead right now. In a way, this record is fitting given the circumstances I'm find myself in at the moment. Things will get better when the gigs start in a couple of hours, hopefully... As much as I respect and understand most of Kurt Cobain's provocative / drugged out impulses when he wrote that "50 favorites albums list" (including *Locust Abortion technician*), it"s obvious that he was more enamoured of the "fuck you" concept behind this LP than the music actually displayed in it. The best "music" in this album is actually a long sample of Thai musicians with a few sparse effects added to it ("Kuntz"). "Human Cannonball", "Graveyard part 2", and "22 Going On 23" are also interesting experimental noise rock. But that's as far as I'll go to "defend" this LP. File next to Throbbing Gristle. As I said before, I'm glad that Dimery's list also picked weird shit to subvert the whole concept of what an "essential" album should be. In this case it's just not the sort of weird shit I would choose myself. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 465 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 252. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 125 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 159 (including this one)

The Guardian called it a "reved-up" version of Massive Attack. Not sure the world *direly* needed it, though. Alright, that double bass sure slaps hard! But it seems to me that this act from the Warp roster had had their shining hour *before* this particular album, mostly through the compilation of their first EPs and the *Making Bones* LP, incidentally both sharing different versions of their iconic "Snapper" theme. "Image Of You", on *Making Bones*, is also a trip hop gem. In comparison, *Our Aim is To Satisfy* sounds a little as an afterthought, as tight as the production values are on this one (the drums sound generally better on it compared to the earlier releases, for instance). And it's true that some parts of this mix of acoustic and electronic instrumentation hailing from the drum'n'bass / big beat / trip hop era has aged surprisingly well given its origin point. But is that enough to make it an "essential" album? I don't think so... 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for mor general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 464 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 252. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 125 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 160 (including this one)

"Fresh Prince rap," goes one reviewer. Count me as one of the many people you're "pissing off" with that dumb take, just as you rightly predicted. The aim of this app is NOT to piss off people, though. It's to truly *listen* to the albums for what they are, no matter what your mileage of the genre and era it stems from is. Of course, you need a set of good ears in order to do that. Should we set up a GoFundMe page to provide them for ya? To be clear, my gripe with that review is NOT about expressing "opinions" and "tastes": everyone has different aesthetic leanings and biases, so I do get that someone can give less than four stars to this record. It's just that if you want your opinion to be taken seriously, you need to avoid starting your review with something you already *know* is pretty unfair to describe the thing at hand. And it's not about the battle between so-called "modernity" and the previous generations, as this particular reviewer also seems to suggest. There are current trap artists that I love these days, for instance... But just like every era of rap and hip hop, you have the good acts and the lame ones. And to differentiate between the two, you need a good set of ears, once again... So can I kick this review in the proverbial ass? Yes, I can! Now about *People Instinctive Travels...*, it is a game changer, enough said. Fun and lively and subtle and original. Opening doors to a golden age where rap would reach a much needed "mature" stage. Admittedly, this ATCQ debut is not the masterpiece that *The Low End Theory* will then be. And it doesn't exactly have the string of stellar hits from the first side of *Midnight Marauders* either. But, yet, nonetheless, however, and that being said, it's still a hip hop classic. 4.5 stars, rounded up to 5. Number of albums left to review: 464 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 253 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 125 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 160

So... Which version should be rated here? The US album, with the iconic "Paint It Black"? Or the UK L.P., which doesn't have that hit single, yet harbors the equally iconic "Mother's Little Helper" and "Out Of Time"? Fortunately, both versions include the bittersweet melody of "Lady Jane", the long yet fascinating blues dirge of "Goin' Home" and the stellar hooks of "Under My Thumb". I guess I should probably take a star away from the LP because of the misogynistic lyrics of that latter song. Yet I always take the contentsof those lyrics content as the self-delusion of the immature male protagonist singing them. And so I refuse to take those words very seriously. Maybe I'm in the wrong here. And maybe it's because the album is so good musically speaking that I can't face the truth. In that case, I'm probably as self-deluded as the young man in that song. 4.5 stars, rounded up to 5, then. Number of albums left to review: 463 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 254 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 125 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 160

Always found the concept at the heart of this album--something about lower middle-class Britannia--endearing or at least interesting. And I think such concept is very well-executed for the most part. Plus, "Our House" is an infectious earworm, c'mon! Following the purposes of this list I would give a 3.5/5 grade to this one (rounded up to 4), but that would translate to a 8.5/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 462 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 254. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 126 (including this one--just erring on the side of caution here, now that I do realize how many albums might end up on my own list--potentially far more than 1001, which is the number I intended to follow at first) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 160

No one can say that Rufus Wainwright is a bad writer and performer. His songs are ripe with melodic ideas and interesting one-liners, generally speaking. The thing is, as good as Rufus's skills are, there's not much rhyme or reason in the way the double-feature *Want* was contructed. Maybe a great *single album* lies there somewhere, if Wainwright had been better at self-editing himself. But frankly, I'm not interested enough to recreate said single LP. Because, as decent and lushly produced as the music is in those twin albums, most of their cuts still come off as derivative at the end of the day. And a lot of them even sound pretty quaint, trite, chatty or oversentimental. Which is a huge problem in my book. Some reviewers in here compared Wainwright's voice with the one of Thom Yorke, and I can see why they did so. But if Radiohead dabbled in mock-novelty cuts once in a while, the latter were always mixed up with many different styles. And the whole yet managed to be part of the same connective tissue. *Want One* and *Want Two* are actually far less adventurous when it comes to the genres they use or refer to. And yet they never manage to create such cohesiveness. It's like a catalogue of exercises in styles, with very few songs being instantly memorable, unfortunately. Exceptions in *Want One" are the rococo opener "What A World"--lush with orchestral quotes from Ravel's Bolero--, more experimental and subdued "Vicious World" and "Want", along with the climactic, heartfelt ballads "Go Or Go Ahead" and "Beautiful Child". Oh, and there's the incredibly sour closer "Dinner At Eight", where Rufus narrates a dinner evening with his dad--the folk singer Loudon Wainwright III--going very fucking *wrong*. It's a true story, by the way, and a quick search online shows that Rufus follows an old tradition of the Wainwright extended clan here--one that allows each family member to give jabs at their close relatives through their songs--be they father, son, daughter or exes. Best case scenario, those cuts settle the score, and the whole dysfunctional routine starts again some time after a temporary reconciliation. Quite an endearing family of neurotic artists! Loudon especially, often comes off as an insensitive and stubborn patriarch, as talented as he was as an artist. Waiting for the HBO series that would take inspiration from this weird clan of musicians for its next big hit onscreen... All of this is nice and well, and it sure is interesting. But as I said, and all biographical anecdotes apart, the problem is that there are not enough truly memorable moments in *Want* (one AND two) to justify adding it to this list. The songs I have not quoted in this review (and there are a lot of them!) go from Robbie Williams-like innocuous bland rock-pop cuts to more extravagant cabaret shenanigans, where Wainwright go through his histrionic routine without imprinting it on the listener's mind, very sadly. And I guess in the middle of those two extremities, you can find a bit of Elton John. But without the hits. And without the hits, you can't call a pop-rock album a keeper, be it part of an ambitious double-feature. Following the specific purposes of this list of essential albums, I'm giving a 3/5 grade for both *Want One* and *Want Two* (I'm not gonna describe the latter here--let me just say that the first volume still sounds slightly more convincing than the second album, but the difference is not big enough to bother giving distinct gradings to those two LPs). This overall grading translates to a 8/10 mark for more objective and general purposes (5 + 3)... Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 461 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 254. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 126 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 161 (including this one)

"Kick out the jams, motherfucker!!!" When I was a teenager during the nineties, a lot of music journalists praised that album as an iconic one, a musically and topically relevant milestone in the history of rock'n'roll. I still agree this LP is topically relevant, and therefore understand its iconic nature in that regard. The thing is, it's a bit of a mess muisically speaking, is it not? The title track sure slaps hard, but I've always had trouble remembering anything else after listening to the album. It's not *dull* music at all, it's even filled to the brim with ideas. But is it *essential* music ? Well, the jury's still out on this one. Funny how MC5's second LP has all the opposite flaws, being far too tame to age well--especially after punk broke out. Those music journalists always referred to MC5 as the equals of the Stooges. But c'mon... Any of the three Stooges LPs is at least ten times more thrilling than those MC5 records. Funny how fads can even be "retrospective"--as in not about present albums, but about ones from the distant past. Number of albums left to review: 460 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 254. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 127 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 161

"Sex On Fire": Hum, really? To paraphrase Tony Soprano: "Cunnilingus and cheesy dad-rock played by pseudo-alternate rocker boys brought us to this." Unless the song is about blowjobs. At least if it's your thing. But I think lines such as "Soft lips are open" and "I could just taste it" make Mr. Followill's sexual preferences clear for the listener. As is that Rorschach blot of an album cover. Good for him. And good for his partner that night. "Use Somebody" is about hitting on girls in bars, it seems. Another universal theme, and another huge commercial hit by the band. Too bad the music is so damn bland and unimaginative. As it is is in *each and every* track of this record. Fittingly, Kings Of Leon's story is as boring and predictable as their songs and studio performances usually are. They went from a festival act playing the sort of soft garage rock that would be appreciated in bars in the American South, to then embrace their destiny as an arena-rock band following the footsteps of Bruce Springsteen, U2 and the Killers. Call that an upgrade if you will. Good for them as well. But not for listeners who wish to discover something more than by-the-numbers arrangements and easily-digestible--yet-totally-unmemorable--songwriting. You can sense in *Only By The Night* that the very competent Kings Of Leon go through the motions so that they could have their hits without taking any risks or following any sort of worthwhile creative spark. But can they have those, really? All of this feels very safe--lyrics alluding to oral sex and lewd attraction to 17-year-old girls notwithstanding. Honestly, I feel a little pity about the teary-eyed reviewers in here reminiscing about the good ol' days they had in high school or college dorms listening to this album (most of the positive reviews say that exact same thing). I'm probably 15 or 20 years older than they are, and yet I haven't fully embraced this dad-rock phase yet. And even if I had, it wouldn't be about bands painfully reenacting the more glorious times of past mainstream rock luminaries who were at least doing something fresh from their own vantage point. It seems fitting that the name of those brothers in the band is "Followill", since all they're happy to do is to follow a formula without adding anything personal that would be even remotely interesting. The fact that their fans can't come to terms with that idea is a tad bit frustrating, to be perfectly honest. If only they had listened to similar-sounding bands from that particular point in time that are at least displaying *real substance* in their music. I get that from their point of view, the songs of *Only By The Night* make a good soundtrack for road trips. But those rides would sound so much better with songs by The Walkmen, for instance. You see, I like my rock'n'roll with a minimum amount of danger, or at least urgency. I can't sense those connotations in the writing here, and I certainly can't sense them in Matthew Followill's over-affected whining. So I'm gonna file Kings Of Leon next to the Killers and The War On Drugs. Except that it's gonna be on an even lower shelf than those two acts. My overall take about the presence of *Only By The Night* in such a list is that something was dead wrong about mainstream pop-rock tastes from the middle-naughts to the middle-2010s. Fortunately, that time is over now. Now I can smirk at the new dad-rockers with kids that are half their age (and even far younger than I am myself). Oh, and you might tell me that other old and very predictable story that the real problem is that Kings Of Leon had sold out on commercialism with this album, yet that the ones before it are good... Well, I'm also very sorry: I've browsed to those records and they sound as bland and unexceptional and boring as the band's arena-rock era. Except for a strange number like "Milk" maybe... Thanks to Lana Del Rey for talking about that tune during an interview (I can see how the strange pace of its vocals inspired the one of "White Dress", where she even name-dropped Kings Of Leon in the lyrics). Yet it seems to me that this sort of spark is a rare case in the band's discography. And it's nowhere to be found in the disposable artefact that *Only By The Night* is anyway. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 5/10 grading for more general purposes (5/5 for the musicianship + 0/5 for the artistry). Next, please. Please, oh please. Number of albums left to review: 459 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 254. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 127 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 162 (including this one)

Extremely interesting. Like DJ Shadow's *Endtroducing*, except that *Sâo Paulo Confessions* uses its own "abstract" and nocturnal vocabulary to explore the many sides of Brazilian / Latin music, instead of the ones of hip hop. On another (sad) note, Suba's fate is simply tragic. So heartbreaking that someone so talented died so young (and trying to save tapes he had recorded to boot). Heartbreaking. I don't have a lot of time for a proper review today, unfortunately. 8/10 for general purposes (5+3), which translates to a 3/5 for the ones of this list. Number of albums left to review: 458 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 254. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 128 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 162

I'm gonna start with my grading for once. It's 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums, and it translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. Let me elaborate a little about the peculiar rationale behind those grades. That 8/10 one actually amounts to the following equation: 6 + 3. It's 6/5 for the virtuosistic musicianship (yep, you read that correctly), and 2/5 for the artistry (yep, you read that correctly as well). I'm harsh about the artistry for a very specific reason: it's because Clapton and his bandmates' tiresome constant soloing is so damn self-indulgent. Even the Allman Brothers (including Duane Allman, invited to play with the Dominos here) knew how to make their overlong blues rock dirges fucking *breathe* once in a while. In comparison, most of *Layla And Other Assorted Love Songs* is stifling. So stifling that it's very easy to lose its thread after a couple of tracks or so. And since it's a loooooong album, the whole exercise of listening to it quickly becomes a chore. There's absolutely no sense of dynamics or overall build-up in the album's tracklisting. After the first three song (and apart from the title track--more on that later), it's basically just one jam after the next, with almost nothing in them to transcend or justify such self-indulgence. If I wanted to listen to musicians soloing on their instrument for long stretches of time, I would rather go to the lush textures of jazz, or to the angular, artful and hypnotic flourishes of King Crimson. Anything a little more leftfield or at least cinematic. Especially if it aged better than that white man's version of the blues--skillful, but often quite sterile and unimaginative as well. I still give two points out of five to Clapton's artistry because of a small bunch of tunes with actual *melodies* that managed to pass through this over-affected, overblown displaying of guitar chops. "Layla" is among those tunes, of course, its arrangements being one of the rares cases where the instrumentation is 100% effective (what a thrilling outro section by the way, as thrilling as the riff and orignal chord sequence in the rest of the song...). And I've suggested it earlier, but I would also add "I Looked Away", "Bell-Bottom Blues" and "Keep On Growing" in the list of keepers. The record starts on pretty great notes at least, I'll give that to Clapton and co. Yet four or five good songs can't fully save an album that long. Especially when it's filled to the brim with so many bad ideas as well. Take that cover of Hendrix's "Little Wing" for example. It is here butchered, and barely recognizable--and this, not in a good or artful way. The original says everything that needs to be said for 2+ minutes. Its instrumentation is subtle, groovy, and most importantly *dynamic*. The whole thing *breathes* life, lust, love and everything in between in a very short amount of time... In comparison, Derek & The Dominos' hamfisted version lasts for 5 minutes that don't add anything meaningful to the song, apart from a clumsy heavy riff that goes nowhere fast. A symptomatic example of what I consider wrong in a lot of other tracks in this clearly overrated album. Listen to the two versions and compare them for yourself. About Clapton as a person now... Did I mention that the man has been an ass quite a few times during his career, from that drunken racist tirade during the seventies up to that "old-man-yells-at-clouds" conspiracy-theory bullshit a couple of years ago? Nope, I didn't mention it up to now. It's better to let the music speak for the man anyway. Coincidence or not, said music all too often repeated other artists' takes without fully understanding what gave genuine soul to those. Sometimes, once in a while, such method allowed Clapton to write and perform good stuff nonetheless (some tracks in this LP, and a few others with Cream, for instance). But most of the time, the music just rambled on. Just like me, miffed hardcore fans might argue? Well, just like Clapton himself, then. It takes one to know one, I imagine. 😉 If Clapton is "God", I guess I'm an atheist. Or maybe an agnostic. So next, please. Number of albums left to review: 457 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 254. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 129 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 162

Oh well... I'm not gonna deny it, I was about to dismiss this album as something that probably aged horribly before listening to it. But it turns out some aspects of said album are considerably fresher than what I had envisioned at first. What I liked the most is how the production and instrumentation on this thing were subtle and understated enough to elicit genuine interest from folks that are not necessarily part of TLC's target demographic. I thought the production values would have all the self-aggrandizing elements of 90s r'n'b that could have turned such pre-neosoul endeavors into a cheesefest from our current vantage point. Turns out the album didn't have those flaws at all. Actually, *CrazySexyCool* is prophetic in the way it mixed pure hip-hop elements into its mix (I wasn't bothered by the many interludes, for instance). If only its second side had been as effective as the first, it would clearly be an LP that would need to be included in a list of "essential" albums. Unfortunately, if you take the list of highlights from this thing, they're all crammed in its first part: "Creep", "Kick Your Game", "Diggin' On You", "Red Light Special"... And of course, there's smooth and catchy "Waterfalls". I like the tune well enough, even if there's something a bit odd in its chorus : the first lines soar like not many other r'n'b hits, but I think its conclusion is a little abrupt and even falls flat on its face. It's how the melody ends, for one thing. But it's also because that "moving too fast" line doesn't rhyme with anything else before, which is quite bizarre in my book. Do people notice these things? I do. And it's relatively grating to my ears. Maybe I'm splitting hair here--"Waterfalls" still deserves to be remembered--but I'm bringing this out because this particular flaw, suggesting last minute-changes, or "writing-in-comitees" shenanigans, is found in quite a few other tunes from the LP--ones less catchy that "Waterfalls" to boot. Other vocal lines *do* end up clumsily in *CrazySexyCool*. And lyrically, the mindset of an "emancipated" girl is explored well enough, but it's sometimes conveyed through obvious clichés and tired turns of phrases: "Let's make love all night, *yaddi yadda*". You probably know the drill by now. Not that there couldn't have been ways to explore those topics in a straightforward manner that could still be interesting on a lyrical viewpoint. Contrary to other reviewers in here, I have absolutely zero complaints about the topics addressed in the songs. Women expressing their lustful desires should not elicit any more eyebrow raising movements than if men express such topics, period. Funny how tons of albums where the latter case happens rarely trigger any negative mention from reviewers (here and elsewhere), and then when women do it, it becomes a problem. And kudos to that one reviewer saying he has a problem with TLC's lyrics, but that it's the same for men tackling those sex topics. At least that person has a cohesive take about the whole issue. But... yeah, well, all of this is interesting to an extent, but as I said before, I think the second part of the LP is pretty lackluster anyway, first in terms of catchiness, and also in its production values--clearly less stellar than on the first side. "Switch" is pretty good, even if it won't keep me up at night. But closer "Sumthing Wicked This Way Comes", with its fake alt-rock guitar riffs, is awkward as f*ck--and no amount of Jimi Hendrix's "Are You Experienced" apparent samples on top of it will make me change my mind about how clumsy the whole thing sounds--nor would an early featuring of a very young Andre 3000 (of Outkast fame) as endearing as that detail is. As for the rest of the second side's tracks (a bland sugary ballad here, a dancefloor cut going through the motions there), it's not even worth discussing about. And yes, that probably includes the Prince-penned "If I Was A Girlfriend". It's an extraordinary song for sure, but here it's turned into a pretty unimaginative cover version that adds absolutely nothing to the original. Plus, TLC's trio have wonderful vocal skills, that goes without saying (you're not in that type of band through mere luck), yet even such skills can't make you forget a vocal performance by "The Artist/Love Symbol a.k.aThe Minneapolis Purple Diminutive Genius". And what a performance. By all means, listen to the original version if you haven't already. So yeah, CrazySexyCool is a mixed bag overall. I have some sympathy for part of what it does, but it probably won't be in my own list of keepers. Unless, miraculously, I find some use for it at the very last minute... 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Next please. Number of albums left to review: 456 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 254. Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 130 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 162

There are, in my estimation, only a couple of sins related to *opinions about music* that are entirely unforgivable, and chief amongst them is to display bad faith. When you have Willie Nelson' *Red Handed Stranger* and Brian Eno's *Ambient 1: Music For Airports* on your "wall" of favorite albums, complaining about Wilco's *YHF* for being a "monotone-sounding collection, unvarying in tempo, tone or ambition" takes the cake a little. I get that *Yankee Hotel Foxtrot* can be "boring" for some ears not attuned to its admittedly understated, peculiar dynamics. But maybe you can express your subjective distate for those dynamics in ways that would at least not resort to vague generalizations, while also not contradicting your takes about other essential albums. Food for thought for folks highlighting that one-star review currently topping this section, maybe? I do agree that Tweedy's voice is indeed "monotone" in *some* parts of *Yankee Hotel Foxtrot* (*some*, I insist). But that supposed "flaw" is actually part of the melancholic sepia aesthetics displayed on the album cover (more on that later). So it's more an asset than a flaw. And the music in that LP is anything but "monotone" or "unvarying in tempo, tone or ambition" anyway. Actually, it goes to an incredible amount of different directions, either through the off-kilter-yet-enticing chord progressions, or through a treasure trove of rowdy/noisy experiments with instrumentation, smearing things with the right number of messy brushstrokes in the background of those tunes. Very often, Wilco use *both* admirable tricks at the same time, which takes the listener to a fascinating chiaroscuro world, filled with delicate fall lights, bittersweet moods, and compositions that are in turns lively or meditative. It's a world where ghosts from the past gently whisper inside your soul as you contemplate overcast late-afternoon skies. After all, with the right mindset, large grey clouds looming on the horizon can turn into a gorgeous spectacle. Given their respective artistry, Brian Eno and Willie Nelson probably know about this themselves. I love those two musicians by the way, and I'm glad that the unhappy reviewer I mentioned earlier unwittingly provided such an interesting spectrum to explain what Wilco does in *YHF*. In a way, Tweedy, Bennett and co. took a regular indie-country-folk landscape and painted abstract hues and "ambient" colors over it. It's a palette that's admittedly very different from the one Brian Eno would have drawn from, sure. But you get the idea, I hope. There's a very postmodernist sort of layering in this LP, with blink-and-you'll-miss-it leftfield flourishes that turn those songs into fascinating "trompe-l'oeil" canvases. On one level, the tunes are a reenactment of more innocent times, with nostalgic lyrics about lost/unrequited loves, or ones about adolescent memories (see "Heavy Metal Drummer", for instance). But on another level, the impressionistic layering messing up with those tunes, along with the collage-like surrealism used by Tweedy in his lyrics (the drunken ramblings of "I Am Trying To Break You Heart", for example), suggests that Wilco were deeply aware that the good ol' days might either be an illusion that needs to be deconstructed, or that it was just something that you simply need to move on from. "Every moment's a little bit later," as Tweedy muses in "Pot Kettle Black". Incidentally, it's a philosophy that was also very fitting to the time where *YHF* was released, i.e. a week after 9/11. Tweedy "salutes the ashes of American flags" at one point of this album. In the pastoral earworm "Jesus, etc.", "tall buildings shake" and "voices escape, singing sad sad songs". Those lyrics probably helped some listeners coming to terms with the tragedy that had just taken place, even if the record never consciously intended to catch this particular zeitgeist in the first place. Strangely soothing, with a touch of the uncanny in its meandering soundscapes, *Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" thus reflected the strange concerns of its day and age. That's also how it captured imaginations. And at the time, you couldn't fail to notice the eerie coincidence of that artwork showing two ghostly towers, of course. Those towers are not in New York, by the way, they're in Chicago: I remember bumping into that vista from another age as I visited the Windy City ten years ago, and how said vista stopped me on my tracks for ten or fifteen minutes. I'm not even sure I knew who Wilco were in 2012, and I had certainly not listened to *Yankee Hotel Foxtrot* back then. Yet observing those part-brutalist/modernist, part-usonian/organic corncobs sticking out like two sore thumbs in the middle of the city's skyline, I remember that I couldn't help thinking about utopias of the past and how the signs of their demise said a lot about our perception of history, both personal and communal. How you always mourn or grieve about your past in one way or another--whatever that past is--build interior monuments and memorials to celebrate it, and yet have to learn about the best ways to keep on going and live the rest of your life. As Tweedy sings in "War On War"--whose title also had peculiar involuntary connotations post-9/11--, "You have to lose / You have to learn how to die / If you want to be alive". I may not have *exactly* thought along those lines as I beheld Chicago's Marina City Complex ten years ago. But the thought was there, somewhere. And it still is today. Number of albums left to review: 455 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 255 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 130 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 162

Love Tracey Thorn's featurings on Massive Attack's *Protection*. That title-track from the Bristol trip-hop collective is a wonder (equalling later masterpice "Teardrops" with Liz Fraser). And Thorn has a lot to do with how good that song is. That's the only truly positive thing I'll ever say about Everything But The Girl. This act is too damn bland for chrissake, whatever their style du jour is (jazzy sophistipop--as in here--or eurodance, or electropop, etc.). I've recently given three stars to a Pet Shop Boys album, so I can still keep an open mind, I guess. But there's a limit. Pretty sure the music critics who have consistently and inexplicably praised Everything But The Girl for decades once received free blowjobs paid through the A&R department of the band's label. I'm a music critic as well now, for crying out loud! Why can't I receive free blowjobs??? OK, gross and puerile, I admit it. A *little* more seriously, now: I'm *not* saying that the songwriting, performances and arrangements on this record are not "competent". They are, generally speaking (even if Tracey Thorn's intonations are a little weird or forced on a couple of those tracks). The real issue is this, though: bad taste is just bad taste sometimes, period. And it's always hard to forgive bad taste, even when you hail from the dreadful eighties--where you were admittedly surrounded by it everywhere, and it was almost as if you had no choice but to surrend your soul to at least *some* of it. In other words, trying to be "objective", open-minded and benevolent about certain music styles would be a blatant lie from me. Everyone sincere enough about music who's worth their salt knows you can't fully change a leopard's spots. Just as you can't turn pumpkins into golden carriages, except in fairy tales. Or except in labels' A&R departments, selling their "products" and pretending they're so relevant on a purely artistic level. It's those free blowjobs again, remember? They're as potent as magic spells. In all seriousness now, though, I *swear*: current popular opinion is *not* always right, but you can still take it into account to separate the whiff from the chaff once in a while. And here popular opinion is quite clear. Only 15 people or so wrote a 5-star review about this record on this app. Worse, those short and very general reviews do not suggest that any of those supposedly happy reviewers were yet dead-set on defending this album to save it from the sea of negativity it's currently drowning in. I would personally do that to try to save Robert Wyatt's *Rock Bottom*, as far as I'm concerned--even to the extent of making a fool of myself. But that's definitely not how far those folks would go. You just *feel* it in their reviews. They simply liked the record, they don't care about the rest. Good for them. But they should know how bad the global score for this thing is, at least. Not that such shenanigans matter all that much, I'm gonna concede that as well. For instance, the fact that *Idlewild* has such a low score compared to the 3.29 one of Sade's *Diamond Life*--every bit its equal when it comes to cheesefest fodder--remains a total mystery to me... It's true that what makes an album popular or unpopular is a very elusive thing sometimes. And your personal definitions of "good taste" and "bad taste" will rarely explain such mysteries away. I'll grant that to the few fans of Everything But The Girl who might bump into this review one day. In the meantime... 1/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums, which translates to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5+1). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 454 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 255 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 130 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 163 (including this one)

Always felt that 2004's *Absent Friends* was the best Divine Comedy album. Its only problem was maybe that it was released quite a few years after Neil Hannon first attracted the spotlights with his snarky, witty-yet-impossibly-gorgeous chamber-pop act. Check out song "Our Mutual Friend" to hear him at the top of his game during this second stage of his career. 1996's *Casanova* is not so bad though, even it partly catered to a britpop sound that was far more standardized than Hannon's endearing usual chamber-pop shtick. Britpop was already a bit dated by 1996, ironically. But it didn't hurt The Divine Comedy's sales to go that way after two albums in the same understated vein, I imagine. Plus this LP features the iconic hit "Something For the Weekend", which can't hurt. I lived in England around 1999, and I remember hearing it all the time on the telly, even three years after its release. Good memories... The lyrics of "Becoming More Like Alfie" have not aged well, though: "Everyone knows no means yes / Just like free glasses come free on the NHS". It's a funny rhyme, I'll grant it to Hannon. And I know this here is mostly literary license in keeping with the album's theme of "Casanovas", including the bullies harrassing girls who think they're that titular character. But taken out of context, some folks might take this tune the wrong way today, understandably. In spite of its questionable chorus, the song yet remains pretty good, like many others on this generally endearing record. Musically speaking, there's the occasional overlong filler, sure. But ones like "Charge", for instance, are still welcome, as they serve the narrative conceit behind this concept album, with a battle scene for the ages in this particular case. I guess Hannon can be forgiven for many of his musical self-indulgences here.They're mostly used for the greater good that the album as a whole is. In the list of keepers, *Father Ted* surely made "Songs Of Love" famous, but that tender, mostly acoustic gem probably didn't need that to be remembered anyway. The same goes "The Frog Princess": being French, that "Marseillaise" interpolation in it cracks me up everytime, and the track is also one the best and catchiest compositions in this LP. And I love closer "The Dogs And The Horses", narrating the acceptance of upcoming death through a dusky, "pathetic" orchestration that's particularly fitting with the contents of the lyrics. What a bold way to end an album. So yep, good stuff. Yet as much as I like this record, I'm not so sure it's a *clear* candidate for a list like this. From 2023's standpoint, The Divine Comedy might be a bit of a niche act--one that could scare regular listeners with its many mannerisms and flourishes (*Absent Friends* would be a better entry point for them, I think). 1001 is a finite number, after all, so I'd rather err on the side of caution for my own list. Giving a 3/5 grade to *Casanova* for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. (5+3) Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 453 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 255 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 131(including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 163

"Piece Of My Heart", "Ball And Chain", "Combination Of The Two", one raucous cover version of "Summertime"... Classics, just like that iconic artwork by Robert Crumb. I remember once reading that most rock critics initially panned *Cheap Thrills* when it was released, and that it was the audience of the time that elected this record as the hailmark it is today, contrary to their views. I can't really remember why the critics found this LP distasteful, though. Probably for reasons that were quite different from the ones that make me take out one star to my current grading of it. But why am I doing so, then? Well, my overall feeling about *Cheap Thrills* is that it can be a little tiring at times--in the sense that everything is super duper intense in it (the instrumentation, that jamming blues-rock style, Janis' gravelly voice...). Most of my favorite albums always have certain "dynamics" in their tracklisting, and I can't sense those in this collection of what is essentially long jams (admittedly based on a solid repertoire of tunes). So as good or great as the album is, that's where it still sounds a bit "dated" to me. Obviously, everyone's mileage on what is "dated" or not will always vastly differ from one person to the next, as it can often be seen when you read people's reviews on this app. Yet I feel like this particular album could actually make folks of all stripes agree that it is indeed of its time in a way that makes it sound a little weird or unnecessarily convoluted these days. Maybe the attention spans of rock audiences dwindled for the next generations... I don't know, just my two cents, here, I guess... The thing is, if you take each track individually, you have to acknowledge how stellar they are, either because of the virtuosistic-yet-heartfelt shenanigans in them, or because of the sheer amount of emotions and *soul* Janis pours into her vocal performance. Such spectacular performance can be tiring, sure. But if you're in the right mindset, it's also fascinating. And if not in the long run, at least in small amounts, one song at a time. To put it in a nutshell, beyond its iconic status and the many cultural undertones attached to it, *Cheap Thrills* still feels like an "essential" album to me. Its excessive leanings are a minor flaw at times. But for the most part, they're still a major asset. Two sides of the same coin. Number of albums left to review: 453 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 256 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 131 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 163

I really like the first two tracks, but the rest is a bit hit-or-miss. Mike Watt played bass in this act, and likewise, I was never sold on Minutemen's patchy aesthetics. On paper, I should enjoy them (I usually love unpredictable "post-punk" records). But something in their music rubs me the wrong way, I don't know what it is. And even though fIREHOSE offers something different, the same thing happens here for me, sadly. 2/5 for the purposes of this list, translated to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 2) Number of albums left to review: 452 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 256 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 131 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 164 (including this one)

An essential band for rap, even if this debut is no *Raising Hell*. As much as I am a fan of old hip hop, and as historically important tracks such as \"It's Like That\", \"Hard Times\" or \"Sucker MC's\" are, this record still sounds dated and pretty hokey in 2023, as other reviewers pointed out. Let's face it, 90s hip hop aged better. See A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul or Wu Tang Clan, for instance. And if earlier acts such as Public Enemy or NWA now also sound a little dated as well when it comes to the flows, their music and lyrics is still rich and sophisticated enough so as to elicit genuine interest, even from today's vantage point. Not sure you can honestly say the same miracle happens overall with Run-DMC, as well thought-out and crafted their legendary debut was. In other words, if hip hop was Michaelangelo or Da Vinci, a doodle drawn during its infancy would still remain a doodle compared to the Sistine Chapel's ceiling or Mona Lisa. Mad respect for the innovators that Run DMC were. But if this debut is a potential essential album, it will only be one found at the bottom of the final selection. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translated to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 2) Number of albums left to review: 451 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 256 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 (including this one, mostly for \"historical\" reasons) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 164

As much as I respect the subjective rationale behind the review currently topping this section, I have to argue that listening to *Risqué* without legendary opener "Good Times", even to better judge the other less familiar cuts, can't provide a clear picture of this album's dynamics. And this for one simple thing: "Good Times" might be a tower of a song, but the album version drags on and on and on (compared to the single version, I presume). And in a way, this initial self-indulgence foretells everything in that record that makes Chic a great 'singles band', but also an awkward act when it comes to albums and their very different needs and requirements. My main gripe with that record is not about its overall "disco" style, by the way--that beef between rock and disco is a battle from a long distant past no one in their right mind cares about now, fortunately. For one thing, I think there are not enough "pure", four-on-the-floor disco tracks on this thing: I only consider "Good Times" and "My Feet Keep Dancing" as being representatives of that style, really. Take very recent *Future Nostagia*, by Dua Lipa, and listen to how an album filled to the brim with four-on-the-floor galore can be exhilarating, by the way. This here is the sort of album dynamics that are cruelly lacking in this Chic LP. So no, my main gripe with *Risqué* is not about disco, my gripe is that the tunes in this album are so damn linear. Some of them seem to go on and on--just like "Good Times", but with less assets when it comes to instant catchiness and rhythmical power. And it doesn't matter what style the songs are displaying. When Chic tackles the torch songs, soul, rythm'n'blues and funk that were always on the margins of disco at the times, they're not fully convincing to say the least. If tracks such as "Can't Stand To Love You" and "Will You Cry"--obviously very decent compositions--had been performed by Sly And The Family Stone a few years earlier, they would be raucous, lively, hearbreaking, *outré*, unpredictable. In other words, they would be *alive*. The same if a similar ground had been covered by Outkast decades later. But in *Risqué*, those cuts sound innocuous, even aspectic, with a few hackneyed or hokey solo vocal performances on top of them to try to bring life into the proceedings--to no avail, unfortunately. As hard as Chic can try, there's nothing... *risqué* about those recordings. It's too goddamn safe. Much has been said about the powerhouse that Niles Rodgers and co. were, and how their many skills made them essential acts for black music. But there's a downside to those stellar skills: most of the times, Chic turn everything into an all-too-clean simulacrum. And this is why, album-wise, they sound so stale for many ears. Add to this a couple of obvious fillers inside what is only a seven-song album--fillers coming up as early as tracks number 2 and 4 ("A Warm Summer Night" and "My Forbidden Lover"), and what you get is a mixed bag. An endearing one at times, for sure. But nothing as "essential" as critics usually say it is. In other words, I would love to own a greatest hits album by Chic one day (possibly one not too expensive, granted I have room left on my shelves). But when it comes to their studio albums, I can live without them, clearly. 2/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 2) Number of albums left to review: 450 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 256 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 165 (including this one)

For those who might have stumbled upon it on this app, remember that tale I told you about a style named Prog Rock, and how she got murdered by the Rush ruffians? Whether you've read my little story taking place in the lands of music or not (and whether you remember it or not), towards the start of the tale, I pointed out that even though her heart was in the right place, Prog Rock took herself a little too seriously once in a while. This is one of those cases. The main issue I have with ELP is with their pretensions--and all that technical virtuosity leading to pompous meIodical verbiage, rococo flourishes and overaffected twists and turns. Because those misplaced ambitions can't ironically warrant such seriousness in the first place, given that the end result of ELP's *many* efforts is just dreadful. I thus fully agree with that reviewer incidentally noting how Can's *Tago Mago*, released the same year, still sounds fresh today, and how ELP's Tarkus does not. Let me take this idea a notch further now. Here is a list of LPs released in 1971 that are way better or at least far more memorable than this overblown mess of an album: Led Zeppelin - IV  David Bowie - Hunky Dory The Rolling Stones - Sticky Fingers Joni Mitchell - Blue Can - Tago Mago Pink Floyd - Meddle Leonard Cohen - Songs Of Love And Hate Marvin Gaye - What's Going On Sly And The Family Stone - There's A Riot Going On The Who - Who's Next Black Sabbath - Masters Of Reality T Rex - Electric Warrior John Lennon - Imagine Yes - Fragile David Crosby - If Only I Could Remember My Name Carole King - Tapestry Janis Joplin - Pearl Yes - The Yes Album The Beach Boys - Surf's Up Mahavishnu Orchestra - the Inner Mounting Flame The Allman Brothers Band - At Fillmore East Jethro Tull - Aqualung Flamin' Groovies - Teenage Head Serge Gainsbourg - Histoire De Melody Nelson Harry Nilsson - Nilsson Schmilsson Graham Nash - Songs For Beginners The Doors - L.A. Woman Gil Scott Heron - Pieces Of A Man Funkadelic - Maggot Brain Gong - Camembert Electrique Nick Drake - Bryter Later Rodriguez - Coming From Reality Ten Years After - A Space In Time Procol Harum - Broken Barricades Genesis - Nursery Crymes Elton John - Madman Across The Water Alice Cooper - Killer Faust - Faust Traffic - The High Spark Of High-Heeled Boys Kingdom Come - Galactic Zoo Dossier I'm afraid that giant armoured armadillo or not, there's no room left for *Tarkus* here. And if there was, I'm not even sure I would consider it a good thing. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5 for the vistuosistic musicianship + 1 for the artistry). Number of albums left to review: 449 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 256 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 166 (including this one)

As a fan of A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul or The Roots, I have always been aware of who Jurassic 5 were, since they picked the ball those first two acts had dropped at the end of the nineties, and this around the same time The Roots dropped its own masterpieces. Jurassic 5's thing is all about positivity, lyrics devoid of any unnecessary aggro bullsh*t, and the lush soul and jazz samples that are the most fitting for those themes. Native Tongues 2.0. The thing is, as respectable and nicely done as *Power In Numbers* is, it's still one or two notches under most albums made by all those bands I've just mentioned here. How come? Well, I've always thought that the only thing that prevented Jurassic 5 to become an "essential" band was their lack of identity somehow. The music of ATCQ, De La Soul and The Roots had very idiosyncratic traits that made those acts unambiguously endearing--and the same went for the very recognizable rapping styles within each one of those legendary oufits. In comparison, Jurassic 5 sounds a little, well... *indistinct* in its intentions, both vocally and musically. The tones and inflexions of those admittedly very skilled rappers are a little linear: only their contrasting voice registers allow you to truly differentiate between them. And that aspect is a little underwhelming, as good as the rapping is on the album. As a consequence nothing really stands out in *Power In Numbers*. For starters, it kicks off with quite average cuts, a sort of understated move that's probably a mistake here. The Roots sometimes made similar moves, but what came next always justified starting things nice and slow (because the build-up after that was often insane!). This is not what happens here. If I make a bit of an effort, I could single out "A Day At The Races" and "Remember His Name", with its mesmerizing, echo-laden flute sample--along with the easy-on-the-ear single "What's Golden", maybe. The acoustic guitar sample on "Thin Line" is quite pretty at first glance, but it sorts of wears out its welcome once this track about a man being "friend-zoned" by a love-interest ends after nearly five minutes (that could probably have been cut short before that ultimate time stamp) I don't think I need to elaborate any further, because everything on the second side of the record has the sort of linear dynamics already found in "Thin Line". The songs are not bad by any means. But it's not like they're gonna revolutionize the hip hop playbook either. Plus, this record doesn't have "Concrete Schoolyard" in its tracklisting (it's in their first LP, originally an EP that was later expanded). So why would I bother adding *Power In Numbers* to my shelves if it doesn't even have what is maybe the band's best track ever? On a more positive note, there's one last cut that's worthy of your attention here: closer "Acetate Prophets", whose fast bongo-laden and koto-enhanced (!) rhythms seem to hearken back to the experimentations of a highly respectable member of the original Native Tongues crew, i.e. the Jungle Brothers. But the idiosyncratic touches are too few and too late by that point. And my oh my, why is this track an instrumental only??! Another missed occasion where Jurassic 5 could have really shone, instead of only twinkling! So that's it. *Power In Numbers* is a good album, but it's not *stellar*. Therefore, including it in the list probably uses a slot that could be given to a better record. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3). Number of albums left to review: 448 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 256 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 167 (including this one)

Amused by some of the reviews in this section--weird takes such as "How do people even pretend to like this? He's the music version of Shakespeare: people only say they like him because it makes them feel smart," bla bla bla... Are some folks so insecure in their lives that they let their inferiority complex ruin all sense of measure and caution in their judgments? Can't they just explain what they personally don't like in Cohen's songs and music, and then move on? No, they can't, and that's interesting. Pretty sure such a bitter stance would have amused the misanthropic-yet-tender "dissectionist" of human passions that Cohen was himself. Oh, the irony. I could also take a page out of those disgruntled listeners' book and venture to say that they are the ones at fault here, *objectively* speaking. One can indeed wonder if they're not a little disturbed by the somewhat radical nature of Cohen's debut album--ascetic and dry for sure, yet also hypnotic on a musical level ; a treasure trove when it comes to the lyrics ; and, most of all, a record that leaves you no choice but to actively give your time and attention to it. This record has very few "spectacular" elements in its contents (a voice and an acoustic guitar, basically), and yet in spite of that, it dares you to stop and listen. Which is always a little disturbing at first, and maybe explains why quite a few reviewers are "disturbed" by it. In the end, some of those naysayers just can't help themselves: if they don't get it, that only means that people who do are *lying*. How amusing, as I said. The irony is that it takes no effort to love this record if you're a Leonard Cohen fan. Because loving this album has nothing do with intellectual shenanigans or the utterance of thesis statements, contrary to what those misguided takes say. Loving this album is a matter of emotion--of how you can respond to the traditional-folk-like purity of the music, here set against the lyrics' modern sophistication (and sometimes wry undertones), along with Cohen's sullen voice being a mock-neutral referee between the two. A perfect balance for many, and one you don't necessarily need to overanalyze, in spite of what I've just written (words are always feeble to describe such masterpieces. aren't they?). After all, some people with a very flimsy grasp of the English language have "gotten" Leonard Cohen for decades (I know that for sure, I don't llive in an English-speaking country), and he's not exclusively popular in 'intellectual" circles either. Which kinda proves all the naysayers wrong all by itself, no matter what it is that they subjectively "feel". No harm in disliking Cohen if it's not your thing--just don't overplay your hand by yucking on other people's yum through the bad faith stance of judging fans' character or their honesty, instead of telling us about your own impressions. It's not graceful at all, to say the least. Not that those naysayers are anything new. A lot of people are unaware of this today, but when *Songs Of Leonard Cohen* was released, its reception by critics was a bit lukewarm, actually. The partly-hidden rationale was mostly that Cohen came from literary and poetry circles: he was an outsider and no "real" musician--and most specifically, he was no real "singer" (odd how snubbery can take many forms!). Yet those critics were at fault too, because they didn't "feel" the most important aspects to take away from *Songs Of Leonard Cohen*: its earnestness ; its blunt honesty ; its raw nature. Because whatever technical abilities Cohen lacked as a vocal performer, he made up for them tenfold through the authenticity, earnestness, and unassuming manners in his performance. Fortunately, general audiences were quick to understand the gem that he was, and you can bet your boots that next generations will, too, just as the ones before. Another layer of irony is that those suspicious critics actually did a huge favour for the Canadian folkster. Rejecting him, they unwittingly underlined his status as a constant underdog--a status he would keep on drawing inspiration from during his long career. The typical Leonard Cohen stance is that he watches the world--and even his own romantic escapades!--from the sidelines with a unassuming, stoic air. And his music gracefully underlines this stance, whether it is wisdom or self-delusion. Such hardcore stoicism is still what makes Leonard Cohen unpalatable for some listeners today, I guess... Those more recent naysayers should at least be aware that things could have turned out worse for them. Had Cohen fully had his way with this debut, there would for instance be far less orchestral arrangements in it, and even less female background vocals. We can all be glad that producer John Simon stood his ground, because the compromise the two men eventually found works beautifully here. Later, for other albums, Cohen would oscillate from a "less is more" philosophy for his subsequent LPs during the seventies, to some sort of maximalist layering in the eighties--one that was maybe partly ironic. But it's here, for this debut, that the perfect matrix has been set for the Canadian songwriter. Those women singing background vocals would for instance never really leave him--it's a marital "arrangement" between lush voices and Cohen's own somber timber that started with this album, and made a lasting impression to the world of music at large. See the sheer amount of cover versions of Cohen's songs if you ever doubt about that. As for the orchestral arrangements, listen carefully to "Master Song" and tell me that its minimalistic production values are not one of the most insanely subtle and yet most gorgeous things that has ever graced human ears--each short inflexion of the small orchestra underlining the lyrical proceedings in the exact way it should--whether through strings or a trumpet--and also enhancing the wonderful chords Cohen found for his tune. So called "deep cuts" like that ("Master Song", "The Stranger Song", "Stories Of The Streets", "Teachers"...) all have those sorts of endearing or enlightening details, and as a consequence, they becone immensely pleasurable if you take the time to sit down and listen. And if you add that string of iconic songs to those less famous tunes--"Suzanne", "So Long, Marianne", "Sisters of Mercy"--of which I don't have much to say given how they have seeped through popular consciousness for decades now--what you get is a perfect, perfect record, without a single dud in it. Running out of time to finish this review, so I'm gonna end it here. If you don't know the wonderful works of Leonard Cohen, don't listen to the naysayers. Have an honest go at it. Maybe you are like "Joseph looking for a manger", and you don't know it yet. Rest assured that once you heart finds shelter in those songs, it is just impossible to forget them. Five stars, what else? Number of albums left to review: 447 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 257 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 167

Now I am become elevator music, the destroyer of interesting concept, lush hindi/qawwali interpolations, coffee-table trip-hop, and dated drum'n'bass patterns. Love the "Indian" vocals and orchestrations. Hate most of the English vocal parts. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5+1). Number of albums left to review: 446 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 257 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 168 (including this one)

When Public Enemy's Chuck D--of all people--is quoted as saying that the "dirty secret" among the black hip-hop community at the time *Paul's Boutique* was released was that the latter "had the best beats", it speaks TONS about the quality of the music here. Chuck D takes "white" appropriation of Black culture *very* seriously, and he can have very harsh words about it. So him saying such things is the best tribute that could ever be given to the hip hop masterpiece Beastie Boys and their producers The Dust Brothers provided for us in 1989. About the rapping now: well, it is simply, utterly, incredible--a constant display of b-boy fireworks: inventive, imaginative, hilarious, surreal, energetic and cinematic... Summing it up as mere "shouting", as the review currently topping this section does, is pretty unfair--even though I like the funny "concept" of that review, and so can somehow respect this hot take, I guess, as incomplete as it is. I dunno... Maybe that reviewer should take herbal tea and relax a little before trying to listen to the record again... As some critic once put it: "Paul’s Boutique sat at a finish line waiting for the rest of the world to catch up." Without this album, there's no fully-formed A Tribe Called Quest (the encyclopedic nature of the samples, their sweeping between genres...), probably no Wu-Tang Clan as we know it (the fast-pace rapping, the movie soundtrack overtones...), and there certainly wouldn't be any Eminem either. 5 stars. Number of albums left to review: 445 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 258 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 168

What on Earth can I say about this masterpiece that hasn't been said before, here or elsewhere? Nothing. I'm gonna review the reviews then. That will give us an inkling of what makes this album so popular for genuine music fans--after all, 3.75 *is* a pretty good score, is it not? Funny how a significant number of reviewers confessed they had a "bias" for *Transformer*. As if it was a dirty little secret they were only sharing now, decades after this record was released. My take about that word and its "guilty" undertones (because it's often that exact same word that's used, "bias") is that it fits with the sleazy, sexually promiscuous world depicted by some of *Transformer*'s songs. Like a kink of some sort. Other reviewers were quick to prone another aspect of that sexual world Lou Reed presents to us, i.e. all those innuendoes about the variety of gender and sexual orientations displayed in those songs (with direct references to all that in "Walk On The Wild Side"--oh my god, what a song, by the way!)."Forward-thinking", I believe one of the reviewers called those songs. Popular cuture is often the best way to open minds. And with *Transformer*, you *also* have great music to do that, which can't hurt. Which leads me to the impressive number of reviewers commenting on David Bowie and Mick Ronson's production. Of course the sonic flair of the two Brits is a *huge* part of the charm here, turning " Satellite Of Love" into a cousin of "Life On Mars?" (what an outro section, my god!) or a bunch of Velvet-Underground-flavoured, hard-rock-like compositions into glam-rock gems ("Vicious". "I'm So Free" , "Wagon Wheel" "Hangin' 'Round" ). Yet, make no mistake, large chunkss of *Transformer* are still very much American as well. That jazz double-bass and gospel-like choir on "Walk On The Wild Side". Or the Broadway accents on " Perfect Day" and the ones from New Orleans on "Goodnight Ladies"... Glam-rock and the world of the Velvet Underground had much in common, but they were also very different (rock'n'roll) animals. As such, they were not necessarily supposed to collide the way they did here. So it's nice that they did collide, and thet we can still catch the sparks that came out of that collision today. Right after *Transformer*, Lou Reed went to diametrically opposed aesthetics with Bob-Ezrin-produced "Berlin" (I haven't read a single reviewer mentioning that album, oddly enough, even though later *New York* has been mentioned a couple of times)."Berlin" surely is an acquired taste (I've grown to love it over the years), yet there's one thing most Lou Reed and Velvet Underground fans can agree about: It's nice that Lou Reed never attempted to record *Transformer 2*. Let robots and AIs do that, lol. *Transformer* was a commercial breakthrough for Lou, sure. But this wonderful record is also unique for more than commercial reasons, and for that bridge between London and NYC Reed, Bowie and Ronson built to make it happen. 5 stars, what else? Number of albums left to review: less than 500 (I've temporarily lost count) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one, of course) Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

It took quite a long time for this album to click for me, but boy, when it did, it was a minor revelation for sure. Before listening to that record I thought that none of those synth pop acts form the early eighties had been able to create full-length masterpieces, contrary to the skills and flair they often displayed for singles (still hate that ABC LP from this list, for instance...). So when I first listened to *Dare* I was highly skeptical--I thought I was in for another instance of Duran-Duran-like overrated drivel. Turned out I was wrong. If you have the right amount of mellifluous earworms, it doesn't matter if your style is dated or not. This what happens in *Dare*. You won't find a single dud in this record, because there is the sort of combination that usually makes an album great, and this in any style. And the equation is this: instant catchiness + imagination + layering + dynamics. The slow songs always have something intense to them, and the livelier numbers remain classy and enticing--avoiding the sort of vulgar flourishes that often turned synth-pop hits into a cheesefest. Not that this class-act nature prevented The Human League to find memorable melodies, as I said earlier--the sort of melodies a recent act like The 1975, painfully trying to harness similar eighties aesthetics, is notoriously unable to write, for instance. Choruses and hooks are stellar in *Dare*: "The Things That Dreams Are Made Of", "The Sound Of The Crowd", and--of course--"Don't You Want Me", first come to mind here. But each and every song has its own share of wonderful moments. And the instrumental parts between those choruses are also great, with catchy arrangements that are often surprisingly subtle (see that minor chord-major chord modulation in "Darkness", for example). With this LP, The Human League also used interesting textures that still sound fresh today, against all odds. Take those "flute" sounds in "Open You Hear" or "Get Carter". As for the drums sound, it is actually quite restrained, mostly avoiding that gated reverb that pestered most pop acts during that decade. Synth basslines owe a lot to Kraftwerk of course, but The Human League also bring their own pop drive to the whole thing, making this music unmistakably theirs. Add the evocative lyrics to this recipe--drawing from eighties concerns about jobs and fame and love and money and travelling, with some empathic angles about the whole thing, yet still keeping the gently sardonic touches of The Human League's previous LPs--and what you have here is an essetial album, no doubt about that. In a way, the productive compromise that gave birth to those lyrics is the same sort of compriomise that gave birth to the music itself. Digging further into The Human League's discography, now I know that their first two full-length records, before the line-up change, had been slightly more experimental--and that records after *Dare* would be far more "commercial". But with this particular LP, you just have a perfect middle ground between those two extremities. So it's no wonder you can find it in many music anthologies and lists similar to this one. 5/5. Number of albums left to review: 443 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 260 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 132 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 168

I'm delighted that Dimery's list has weird art-rock records like this. It's important that all sorts of music are represented, in spite of all the reviewers in here grumbling about this one and giving it low grades (I'm talking about music from the "western" world and using the album format, at least). Besides, Pere Ubu is an act so bizarre that it literally can't age. Some reviewers talking about the two Pere Ubu albums selected by Dimery referred to recent groundbreaking bands like Squid or black midi so as to give their opinions and try to explain what those LPs are all about. And I'm also glad about this. There's definitely an affinity between Pere Ubu's own off-kilter sound in 1978 and the one played by quite important rock bands that don't want to fully rehash the past these days. The good news is also that, contrary to *Dub Housing*, *The Modern Dance* more or less manages to keep momentum for the duration of its ten tracks. "Non-Alignment Pact" and the title-track offer great moments right off the bat. David Thomas' frantic voice, somewhere between Jello Biafra and David Byrne, is an acquired taste, of course. But once you find your footing with it, it becomes quite fascinating. After that great start, "Laughing"'s deconstructed, sax-enhanced shenanigans are a bit of a letdown, yet Thomas's voice does a good enough job getting you hooked in spite of the overaffected free-jazz surroundings. And then "Street Waves" quickly surges anyway--with one bridge containing a classic guitar solo that will easily rock your socks off, and another bridge where eerie wind sounds will suddenly keep you on your bare toes as you force them to walk on ice. Funny how those two bridges actually epitomize the two sides of the word *art-rock* all by themselves. Following "Street Waves", you have "Chinese Radiations", another "deconstructed" cut going from a slow ambient mood to a more lively conclusion. Yet this time, said "decontructed cut" is fortunately far more efficient and evocative. Thomas then goes totally bezerk on bonkers "Life Stinks"--the rhythm section is on a full punk mode here--before centerpiece " Real World" ensues--some sort of dub track that goes off the rails to become far more at the end: a mesmerizing-yet-hectic plea and a proto-Talking Heads gem all at the same time. After that, calm "Over My Head" and its haunted background vocals provide a welcome respite--with another lovely guitar solo for its bridge. Concluding the album, you have "Sentimental Journey", a self-indulgent, seemingly improvised number where the most recognizable pattern comes for the sound of breaking glass (the studio's floor was notoriously littered with broken bottles after they recorded that cut). And then, you have the mock-reggae of "Humour Me", with fun clapping hands helping you digest all the guitar and synth harmonies around them--weird ones for sure, yet also poignant, oddly enough. That last guitar solo, short but epic, is a major plus to turn that closer into a highlight. Voilà, to put it in a nutshell. *The Modern Dance* is a mid-western, no-wave version of Roxy Music. As such, it's "out there" and sort of a mixed bag, but it's still a fun listen if you open your mind and try to forget the usual expectations of run-of-the-mill rock and punk-rock. It sure won't send you to the highs that Wire or Gang Of Four can aim at (two bands that Spotify's algorithm played after *The Modern Dance* ended--which was highly predictable, lol). But it's still a success in its own (admittedly bizarre) terms. After all, you can find other admirable players in second leagues sometimes. Number of albums left to review: 442 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 260 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 133 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 168

If Clapton is "God", I guess I'm an atheist. That being said, if one album in his discography could turn me into an agnostic, it's this one. 4.5/5 stars for the purposes of this list (rounded up to 5 here). Which translates to a 9.5/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 442 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 261 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 133 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 168

Spent a lot of time trying to make the heads of Robert, Jimmy, John Paul, and John appear all at the same time through the small punched holes of that cover (never succeeded, tough). Those of you who have the original design for said cover--either on vinyl or on deluxe CD editions--know of what I'm talking about here. As they know how frigging good Led Zeppelin's first real explorations into English folk and quieter-yet-somber moods are. As adventurous as *III* is, the unmistakable blues/hard-rock feel is still there on the first side of this record--with a bunch of intense bangers on side one, the most incredible of them being of course opener "Immigrant Song" and its relentless groove. Yet Led Zeppelin then quickly makes a great 180-degree turn with "Friends", an acoustic cut whose minor string section/mellotron/ synth arrangement brings strong cinematic flavours to the whole thing. Back to a rock banger with "Celebration Day", and then to an iconic power blues highlight with "Since I've Been Loving You". That emotional middle section/bridge towards the end of the song is the stuff of legend. And then "Out On The Tiles" closes side one with a strong cut as well--catchy chorus and frantic guitar riffing included. As suggested earlier, side two is a more pastoral affair, but it has its share of highlights as well, including country-tinged, pre-"Stairway To Heaven" number "Tangerine", and *Astral Weeks*-like meditative and melancholic cut "That's the Way". Jimmy Page's "borrowing" of riffs and melodies now extended from ripping off bluesmen to reproducing traditional folk harmonies as well--never forget how much of a cunning thieving fox Page was during Led Zeppelin's heyday. But what a brilliant fox he was! And no matter where *III*'s music really came from, everything sounds super duper tight in it anyway. As tight as a "volvelle" inside an album cover can be. 5/5. Number of albums left to review: 441 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 262 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 133 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 168

The psychedelic fad (a fad for them, at least) didn't suit the Rolling Stones very well. *Between The Buttons* and *Their Satanic Majesties Request* respectively had couples of nice tracks, but those records were half-baked endeavors nonetheless. It was time for the band to return to their roots. Hence *Beggars Banquet*. Three highlights in this classic LP. Let's start with the closer, "Salt Of The Earth", which is a genre into its own. That elegiac ode to paupers, misfits and freaks is a sardonic ballad for sure--and sardonic or not, carnivalesque or not, it's one of the most beautiful ones ever written. File next to "You Can't Always Get What You Want", "Moonlight Mile" and "Angie". Then, there are "Sympathy For The Devil" and "Street Fighting Man", among the top-5 most iconic Rolling Stones songs (and never forget that Jagger and Richards have written far more than five iconic tunes overall). Competing that top 5 list, I would probably add "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction", "Jumping Jack Flash", "Paint It Black" or "Brown Sugar"--yeah, I know, that's six songs in total, but don't complain: I could have added " Brown Sugar" and "Under My Thumb" as well... The thing is, when a single album gathers *two* of these iconic tunes, you just can't dismiss it that easily. Under that light, it doesn't really matter of the rest of this album is mostly made of amiable blues fillers--they have their charm too anyway, and make the whole collection an immensely pleasurable collection once you get to know them. The Rolling Stones would get better at crafting more cohesive LPs right after this one (first with *Let It Bleed*, but mostly with *Sticky Fingers*, before returning to topsy-turvy aesthetics with double-feature *Exile On Main Streets*). But it's with *Beggars Banquet* that this lucky streak of classic Rolling Stones albums started. 5/5, what else? Number of albums left to review: 440 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 133 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 168

As much as I like or even love *Chemtrails Over the Country Club*, Dimery and co. including the latter in their list and ignoring 2019's *Norman Fucking Rockwell* doesn't make a SHRED OF SENSE. Sorry for the capital letters, I know they're annoying, but here is one of the rare cases where I'm 100% sure I'm being "objective". Mad respect for Little Simz and Michael Kiwanuka (representing 2019 in the 1001 albums book), but it's obvious that Lana Del Rey's magnum opus is one or two notches over their own LPs. So you know what needs to be done here. Now that all of this is out of my system, a few words about *this* album, which followed that already "classic" record that *NFR* is. *Chemtrails...* is very good, even brilliant at time, especially on the first side. That weird pace or flow Lana uses for the chorus of opener "White Dress" is bold as fuck, for instance: "Downatah-menamusic-BIZ-ness conference". Jesus, what a trip, and what an evocative way to convey the hopes and awkward self-delusions of an anonymous waitress dreaming about breaking out in show-business--exactly who Lana was a few years before breaking out herself. Unless it's the "character" *Liz Grant invented to do so. Not that it takes anything to the song. After such a stellar introduction, the other tunes need to be good, and most of them are, fortunately, even if they're even more "one-note" overall compared to previous albums (a reproach folks who don't *really* listen to Del Rey's songs often throw at her--I should know: I was one of them before... And then i saw the light). The title track is enticing, seductive, and even a little eerie, for example. "Tulsa Jesus Freak" is somewhat cold and insensitive, in spite of the lush arrangements. "Wild At Heart" sounds like another instant classic (maybe referring to David Lynch's own pastiche in cinematic terms). And "Dark But Just A Game" uses off-kilter harmonic modulations to take its indolent groove to a whole other level. Producer and co-songwriter Jack Antonoff sure is a sly fox, just as he was for *NFR*, and his work is a perfect background for those stories and moods and tunes. It's because of those sort of details that Del Rey and Antonoff manage to transcend the seemingly unobtrusive nature of those songs. The result of of their common effort is a little less stellar on the second side, I admit it. Yet there's more than meets the eye on tracks like "Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost" or the surprisingly straightforward blues-rock of "Dance 'Til We Die". And that cover of Joni Mitchell's "For Free" with Weyes Blood, concluding the proceedings, is gracious and touching. The only problem with including Del Rey's *Chemtrails Over The Country Club* in my own list is that if I do so, I have no choice but to also include *Ultraviolence*, *NFR* and probably 2023's *Did You Know There's A Tunnel Under Ocean Boulevard* as well. Now do I want *four* Lana Del Rey's LPs in my list? Isn't that overkill, especially for such a recent (and controversial) artist? Only time will tell. But *Norman Fucking Rockwell* should be there for sure. That much I know. I give a 4.5 grade to this record, rounded up to 5, because I want at least *one* Lana Del Rey LP to appear on my "wall" of albums (and I can't do that with any other LP given that they're not in Dimery's list). But it's the first (and potentially *only*) time a 5/5 record ends up on my "waiting list". Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 439 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 134 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 168

Another example of Dimery and co. selecting a lackluster record from a band that was once viewed as innovative in their genre, before breaking out with an album that's not so bold compared to their first LPs. Commercial success is often a misleading factor on the 1001 albums book. And here is one of the most ridiculous examples of this particular mindset when it comes to specific subgenres (here, *nu-metal*). Oddly enough, and apart from "Freak On A Leash" (more on that later), the only *truly* memorable moment on this record is that rap battle / "let's-play-the-dozens"-track "All In The Family", with Fred Durst. It's a track whose concept is fun, as immature as it is, but whose execution is a little disappointing, retrospectively--even if Fieldy's bass slapping is impressive in its own right on this one. Some of the insults going back and forth between Durst and Jonathan Davis are funny. But others fall very flat... This is far from being the only missed opportunity in this record. And you could argue that it speaks volumes when one of the two memorable moments on an album features dumb jock Fred Durst. Didn't remember Ice Cube was also on this LP, by the way... but given how much of a mess "Children Of The Corn" is, it's no surprise I had forgotten about it. So the other truly memorable track from *Follow The Leader* is single "Freak On A Leash", as said earlier, with its perfect instrumental imitation of gangster rap samples, its soaring chorus, and its typical "scat" grunting by Jonathan Davis--that he put for better use on previous records, admittedly, but which is still a spectacular gimmick. And... that's it. Nearly everything else is just terrible, plain and simple! "It's On" is a boring opener ; the involutary disco rhythm pattern of "Got The Life" is cheesy and hackneyed (plus, the song is badly mixed) ; and "Dead Bodies Everywhere" starts with creepy glockenspiel shenanigans that are interesting, but thenthe song quickly returns to the usual Korn formula--a particularly soulless one in this occasion. "B.B.K." fares slightly better than most of what occured before, and its short bridge à la The Cure is interesting. More skat grunts from Davis towards the end of this cut. Too bad that, by this point of the LP, this little trick--already heard before--sounds like an option Davies goes to when he doesn't have any better ideas for his vocals. "Pretty" attempts to use subtle Cure influences again, but the result is far more awkward this time around. "Reclaim My Place", "Justin" and "Seed" go through the motions witout much real passion in them. Interesting funk hip hop dynamics on "Cameltosis"--too bad the lyrics are so dumb, even by nu-metal standards. Closing the proceedings, 6-minutes-or-so "My Gift To You" is an exploration of more "classic" metal aesthetics during its first part, before going back to Korn's usual shenanigans... and neither part of the song is convincing enough. Long gone is the neurotic intensity of the first two albums. And long gone is also producer Ross Robinson' trademark sound, so effective in them. Not even bothering to quote the names of the two new producers for "Follow The Leader"... I should not even mention the hidden track at the end of this record either, so stupid it is. Countless teenagers discovered Korn through this album and made it a success. But you can bet your boots that most of the middle-aged men and women they are right now would be embarassed to admit they ever embraced Korn's music when they were younger. Too bad, some of the stuff in the first two albums is still interesting or even thrilling today. But *Follow The Leader*'s interesting moments are scarce compared to *Korn* and *Life Is Peachy*. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5+1). Number of albums left to review: 438 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 134 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 169 (including this one)

Interesting for sure. But *essential*? I'm not even certain that *Skylarking* and *English Settlement* will be included in my own list (*Drums And Wire* will be in it, of course). So selecting this late-career album by XTC sounds a little dubious on paper. On paper at least, I'll grant that to Dimery and co. The orchestral arrangements are top-notch on quite a few tracks, for instance. It was surprising to read that those arrangements were all recorded in Abbey Road in a single day, and that the original sessions were somewhat botched. That protools software can work wonders, can't it? Pretty useful when you don't have the ressources to record an orchestra for a whole week. At times, there are strings arrangements that reminded me of Dead Can Dance or Michael Nyman. Gorgeous, gorgeous work. Thanks to those orchestrations, great compositions such as "River of Orchids", "Easter Theatre", "I Can't Own Her" and "Harvest Festival" shine on this record--to which you could maybe add single "I'd Like That" and closer "The Last Balloon". To be honest, I find those highlights even more endearing than the ones of *Skylarking*, that mid-eighties LP that saw XTC take a radical left turn towards more artsy landscapes. Maybe one of the issues pestering *Apple Venus Volume 1* is that it was released long after that initial left-turn-into-art-rock-thing, and even longer after the band's commercial peak. Which might be an unfair way to dismiss *Apple Venus...*, once again. If those songs had appeared on *Skylarking*, chances are that they would have been praised just like the tunes on that album were. Maybe even more so. That being said, I think that all the other cuts in this record are far less effective, and even annoying to an extent. As often with this band, said cuts go from unobtrusive to twee--a trend that often rubs me the wrong way during XTC's later albums. That reliance on lush layerings, soft textures, and an overabundance of major chords started with *Skylarking*, once again. The thing is, as talented as he is, Alan Partridge is no John Lennon, no Paul McCartney, and no 60s-era Brian Wilson. His tunes always *sound* nice, I agree. But some of them are way too naive. And most of them are not that memorable compared to the ones routinely written by the genius songwriters XTC fans often compare Partridge with. On top of that, there's the issue of overall dynamics. If you take away the post-punk energy of the band's early career, you actually end up taking away a lot of the stuff that made their compositions so remarkable in the first place. I agree that when they age, composers and songwriters should find ways to make the sound of their youth evolve with them. But doing so doesn't necessarily mean you have to lose a sense of youthful enthusiasm, so to speak. And early-XTC had *a lot* of those thrilling, enthusiastic moments. I'm OK with the idea of intellectualizing things a little. It's just that there are ways to do so and still remain straightforward once in a while. You can do this through a soaring chorus, basic chords at key points of a song, or anything that would make it a little catchier, Abbey-Road-recording-sessions-of-a full-blown-orchestra notwithstanding. Because, let's face it, this LP is a little stingy when it comes to catchy moments, isn't it? And this, even for its highlights. I haven't yet listened to *Apple Venus Volume 2* (not in Dimery's list, if my memory serves), but it sounds reasonable to assume that if Partridge and Moulding had at least gathered the highlights from both volumes into a single package--and dismissed the rest for B-sides and whatnot--you would have a stronger entry here. It's a story everyone has heard before. The talented leader of a band is such a victim of his own hubris that he botches his own desire for success when he becomes unable to self-edit so as to separate the whiff from the chaff--and this even when his entourage advised him to do so. Reading stories about Alan Partridge and his occasional temper tantrums with other band members, it seems that he is a character that could fit those shoes. Human makes mistake, I imagine. Number of albums left to review: 437 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 134 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 170 (including this one)

Overall, a collection of nice songs, unfortunately hampered by cheesy eighties production values once in a while. It's those horrid synth sounds painstakingly imitating real instruments--flute or strings--and miserably failing to bring adequate dynamics to the whole thing. Logically, most of the real highlights are where those eighties flourishes are kept at a strict minimum--opener "Cracking", sad and melancholic "Small Blue Thing", cautionary tale "The Queen And The Soldier", along with "Marlene On The Wall"--somehow a fortunate exception because the composition is so good you quickly forget it was recorded in 1985. That being said, there are also a bunch of duds in this debut. "Undertow" and its somewhat forced vocal performance come to mind here. And the last two tracks of this LP are somewhat underwhelming. It seems to me that Vega's three subsequent albums *Solitude Standing*, *Days Of Open Hands* and *99.9 F•" are far stronger efforts, and that they have Suzanne's most iconic tunes and performances ("Luka","Tom's Diner", "Book Of Dreams", "Blood Makes Noise", "In Liverpool", "Bad Wisdom", "When Heroes Go Down"... It's those three records that should be in this list, not her debut (pretty sure that the artist would agree herself). *99.9 F•* is especially impressive--and also criminally underrated today. It goes from abrasive soundscapes and post-industrial chamber pop (!) to stellar sad-girl anthems and acoustic initmate numbers in a split-second. Yes, "post-industrial chamber pop" is a thing--and it took Suzanne's adventurous spirit to craft such a style. Yet as wild a ride as *99.9F•* is, it manages to stay cohesive, artful and sensitive from start to end. Brains and heart reach a rare perfect balance in the course of that record. And in comparison, such a potential is only hinted at during Vega's debut. 2/5 for the purposes of this list, here translated to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 437 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 134 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 170 (including this one)

Album *The Only Ones* is not "the only one" I hesitate to include in my own ranking of 1001 essential LPs--there's not enough room for all sorts or good to great records in said ranking, unfortunately. But this album sure is at the top of my list of potential candidates. There are only a couple of tiny things that make me hesitate to directly include this debut in my own list, but at the end of the day, those small issues have their weight. First, there's nothing as catchy as wonderful single "Another Girl, Another Planet" in it. Which doesn't mean that the other tunes are fillers or duds--just that the album's dynamics somewhat suffers from that contrast between this legendary single and the rest. Secondly, Peter Perret is a great performer and vocalist, with an unmistakable style--a lazy drawl that certainly has its charms for many--yet maybe such a style is a little too one-note in the long run, which can be tiring for some listeners. Finally, had single "Lovers Of Today" been included in the original record, there would have been a way to create an overall stronger tracklisting for it. I'm probably splitting hairs here, but I have no choice. I'm in the middle of that run of 1001 albums, and I know I can't cram everything in my own ranking. In that realm of late-seventies, early-eighties rock bands using the lessons of punk and post-punk to rejuvenate older styles such as glam and pub-rock, I will always prefer the Soft Boys and their stellar songs to The Only Ones, as objectively great as they were. I need room for *Underwater Moonlight* in my personal ranking--a far more varied and dynamic LP compared to *The Only Ones*. And if taking that Soft Boys LP into account means I have to sacrifice The Only Ones' debut, so be it. Ain't life cruel? 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/5 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 436 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 135 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 170

Including Drive Like Jehu's *Yank Crime* in this list and ignoring Fugazi's *13 Songs*, *In On The Kill Taker*, *Red Medecine* and *The Argument* is a crime all by itself (*Repeater* is a great album, but I would place these other Fugazi LPs before it imho). That (major) gripe aside, I cannot thank Dimery and co. enough for selecting this other seminal post-hardcore gem in their book. I was aware of who John Reis is because of all the nice acts he was a part of after Drive Like Jehu (Rocket From The Crypt, Hot Snakes, Plosivs...), but somehow I had not listened to Drive Like Jehu yet. And boy oh boy, how was I missing out! Browsing through Wikipedia to learn more about this band, I was saddened to learn that the band's singer and guitarist Rick Froberg (also the frontman of Hot Snakes) passed away from "natural causes" two months ago. I had not heard of those tragic news, oddly enough. In a better world, more people would have talked about his sudden death. I'm not gonna beat about the bush any longer: *Yank Crime* is up there with the best representatives of the post-hardcore / emocore genre. And with a track such as "New Maths", you could amost say Drive Like Jehu initiated mathcore / math rock, and this in a very tongue-in-cheek manner (get your inner calculators ready to count the different time signatures there, lol). Apart from " New Maths", *Yank Crime*'s highlights are "Do You Compute", " Luau" and "Golden Brown". The first two are admittedly long compositions, but they're totally worth your time if you're a fan of the genre, thanks to their breathtaking, harmonically tense climaxes. And if you're a post-hardcore newbie, don't get too overwhelmed by the intricate and "difficult" sonic architecture of the album's opener. "Here Come The Rome Plows" is mostly here to set the tone, actually. Everything that comes after may turn out to be extremely rewarding if you want to get acquainted with post-hardcore or similar "punk" subgenres. Normally, I would give a 4/5 - 4.5/5 grade to this record. But given how unfairly low the global score for it is in this app, I'm gonna push that grade to a perfect 5/5 mark. People in here complaining that they "don't like being yelled at" should be a little more humble, I think. They're confusing their own personal limits with an "objective" stance. It's as if I complained about "being yelled at" when I'm being exposed to a bland Adele record: it's not because you're using all the clichés of what a singer is "supposed" to do on a purely technical level that the results can't be extremely grating to your subjective ears. Good art is not necessarily meant to be "beautiful" all the time anyway. And it does not necessarily need to be so in any conventional manner. Good art can also be dark, messy and blunt. Because that's a way for it to reflect our short and messy lives. Number of albums left to review: 435 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 135 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 170

syntax error HTTP Status 204 (all style no substance?) 404 Pleasure Not Found Trying hard to reboot this review through failure-safe mode. But bugs keep coming up. It's always annoying when machines resist you. You end up believing they're doing it on purpose against you. The thing is, machines don't have any volition on their own--at least as far as I know. And when you finally admit it, that's also when you realize projecting your own emotions onto them was a pretty pointless affair--not to mention an all-too-human reflex. "What was I thinking? Why did I get all riled-up? It's just a dumb machine...". This is how those confrontations between man and its faulty mechanical tools always end: with a "why bother?" attitude. *The Pleasure Principle* suggests those lines of thought to me. There lie both its success and its failure. I can project all sorts of strong emotions onto Kraftwerk's own robotic music, for example--fascination, joy, sadness, anxiety, excitement, pleasure... But I can't do this with this album, even if it owes much to the German krautrock/kosmische legends itself. And maybe it's because, at the end of the day, there's not much to the music played in it. HTTP Status Code 204? All style, no substance? Kraftwerk is not the only reference point that belittles *The Pleasure Principle*. Likewise, synthpop pioneers who had their heyday a few years after Gary Numan can provide a lot of different emotions for me. Most of the songs released by Depeche Mode between 1984 and 1990 do that for instance. And quite a few other key tracks by Human League, Heaven 17 or even Pet Shop Boys do it as well. Heck, even Pete Shelley's synth-heavy *Homosapien* sounds more interesting to me--an underrated album in the Buzzcocks frontman's solo discography if ever there is one. Should I mention Joy Division and New Order, finally? Nah. I think most of you people get the picture now... Beyond those admittedly very subjective leanings, here is the main point I want to underline here: behind the robotic facade, all those acts wrote tunes with a LOT of harmonically enticing flavours. Of course, Gary Numan came before all of those acts, at least--so there's that pioneering aspect to take into account, I guess. Under that light, maybe I shouldn't care if he was a far less skilled composer and songwriter. But in that case, well... Kraftwerk. Kraftwerk will always have the upper hand when it comes to decide who were the real pioneers. They were there when this whole matrix-thing started. Heck, they ARE this matrix. Other reference points that make *The Pleasure Principle* sound a little secondary in retrospect are later "industrial" acts such as Killing Joke or Nine Inch Nails. Trent Reznor is a huge fan of Numan, I hear. Yet Reznor also harnessed a "punk" energy to take his mechanical anthems to a whole other level... In comparison, *The Pleasure Principle* only rarely succeeds in offerring such added dynamics to its MS-DOS aesthetics. It's basically a "program" followed to the letter. Chords and harmonies don't matter that much, only the sonic landscapes do. And since the energy is lacking, what do we have left, really? On an intellectual level, I understand all of this is probably the point of this album, ironically: it's so ascetic, harmonically speaking, so repetitive, and so "radical"--in a way--that some listeners surely can't help being drawn to those "songs". To me, they're more *snippets* of tunes than full-blown ones--vague sketches that rarely go somewhere interesting beyond a couple of hooks here and there. But I get the idea. My gut feeling tells me that those enamoured listeners are more interested in textures than in compositions, and more power to them if they find those sorts of textures in this album. But that's a "power button" I don't feel like I need to push myself. Fans always rant about how "groundbreaking" this record is, but once again, when you enjoy acts such as Kraftwerk or Silver Apples, that adjective sounds a little exaggerated at best. What *really* happened here is that Numan hit the charts with "Cars", and popularized those cold, mechanistic aesthetics for a lot of folks that had never been exposed to them before. Maybe even "rock critics". Which is a very different thing. That very subject of "Cars" 's commercial success brings me to the main issue I'm having when the time comes to consider this LP as an "essential" one. "Cars" follows "Conversation" in this record, and if you listen to those two tracks one after the other, it soon becomes abundantly clear that they use... a) The same instrumentation. b) The same sort of "melody" on synths. c) The same sort of drowsing pace. d) The same sort of high-pitched, somewhat grating vocals. e) And that they can trigger the same sort of boredom, especially since ingredients a) to d) are to be found *everywhere* in the album (save for Bowie-indebted "Complex", with its violins and violas). By the point those two *very* similar track appeared on side 2, I had already given up all hope of getting excited. I was going through the motions, just like Numan does. The question is: where's the line between radical conceptual drives and pure *laziness*? Musically speaking, *The Pleasure Principle* sounds very lazy, and the need for mechanistic repetition can't fully justify such laziness. Besides, that's a flaw that does not convey the idea of a mechanical force to reckon with anyway. It's a very *human* flaw. Oh, the irony. Understand me: robotic music *must* be repetitive, I get that. But there are ways to be repetitive and yet hypnotize the listeners, instead of lulling them to a muddled sort of slumber. Hypnosis brings you to heightened awareness. Drowsing slumber does not. By the way, machines are also pistons and turning cogs and spinning wheels. This is how they can get sexy in their very own way. But this machine here doesn't have any of those contraptions. It's basically inert. Sure, that's where a more conscious sort of irony lies--the one conveyed by the album's title, here associated with such wonderfully evocative artwork. I *also* get that this juxtaposition is no coincidence here--that it's part of Numan's thematic "program" and how it relates to tecnological advance and what it does to the human body and soul--how it can actually threaten them. But it's so easy to turn off the screen, stop this album from playing, and get on with your real life. It would be much more interesting--and perverse!--if something in this LP prevented you to do that. Because of stronger hooks. Because of a mesmerizing harmony. Because of a sudden chorus that blurs the limits between man and machine--even if it only does that ephemerally. Lost of other acts pulled it off, even if their sounds are a little "dated" now. So why not Gary Numan? Mark my words, it's not only the sound or the music that are awfully dated in this record. It's also the whole concept itself. Now we know how much of our lives is deeply intricated with technology. Numan's music actually hearkens back to a time when such deep interaction didn't exist. And by refusing to engage a lot of his listeners through more imaginative music, Numan's efforts look a little pointless and void today. Plus, there's nothing uncanny about his robotic caricature--none of the anthropomorphic features that can make you reflect and ponder about our own mechanistic drives, and none of the emotions we project onto technological tools on a daily basis now. And as a result, the whole endeavor risks turning into an innocuous roleplay--one that isn't really fun, to boot. Listen to Kraftwerk's "The Robots", and you'll probably understand the sort of fun I'm talking about here. In comparison, *The Pleasure Principle* suggests nothing--neither fun nor death drive, nor... real pleasure. It puts you at a distance, just like this cover suggests. But it's too much. And all that's left is an idea. Another reason why Numan's music sounds so neutered and *quaint* to this listener's ears today. Including this LP in my list of potential candidates for my own ranking, because it's still a cultural milestone (mostly thanks to its commercial success at the time). But I doubt this album will make the final cut. CCleaner will probably have deleted it as a useless file in my Temp folders by then. 2.5/5 for the purposes of this list, rounded up to 3, and translating to 7.5/10 grade for more general purposes. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 434 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 136 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 170

3.5/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" LPs, rounded up to 4, and translating to a 8.5/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3.5). Always dismissed that Pretenders' debut as an overrated album, but listening to it one more time, one thing hit suddenly me on the head, and it hit me hard. As dated as it is now, their sound was actuallly the forerunner of a specific strand of the current post-punk revival best represented by a band such as Dry Cleaning, especially on the first side (second side has more "classic rock" charms). Chrissie Hynde doesn't exactly uses the sort of singspeak Florence Shaw uses, but it comes very close. Likewise, the guitars' dry, chorus-heavy textures remind me of Tom Dowse's own six-strings flourishes. And it's like a key finally unlocked that album for me. Not saying this *fully* sells that debut for me yet, but it's a start, at least. I need to mull over all this. In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: 433 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 263 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 137 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 170

Classic soul record. "My Girl", "Respect" and that cover of the Stones' "Satisfaction" are among Otis Redding's most famous cuts, even though they're not my favourite songs performed by him (plus, Aretha Franklin's version of "Respect" totally erased the original version in popular consciousness). Conversely, "I've Been Loving You Too Long" is a gem I will always cherish. The rest plays out smoothly--some of the tracks sound a little samey, but maybe my ears are at fault here. I guess four stars is the minimum I can give to such a classic. Yet I would be lying if I said I was overly enthusiastic about *Otis Blue* as a full-length release. It has peaks, but it also has a few valleys... 1965 is also the year Nina Simone released *I Put A Spell On You* and *Pastel Blues*. I know Simone and Redding didn't exactly play in the same league, yet I can't help compare the two here, probably because my obsession about Nina Simone worsened during the last few weeks (listening to "Sinnerman" right now). And I have to say that as nicely done as *Otis Blue* is, it can't bring me to the heavens Nina sends me to. Another reason to only give four stars to Otis' record. It's probably unfair. But it's not more unfair than Dimery and co. ignoring Simone's *Little Girl Blue*, *In Concert*, *I Put A Spell On You* and *Pastel Blues* in their own list. Number of albums left to review: 432 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 137 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 170

A fun listen. The artwork perfectly encapsulates what this LP is all about, part-topical exploration of African-American psyche, part-innocent and childlike groovefest--not exactly firing up on all cylinders, but rather taking its sweet time to evoke the melancholy of urban landscapes through lush instrumentation and generally well-crafted jazzy dirges. As a result, this LP is a treasure trove for any old school hip hop producer looking for samples. Was this album heavily sampled? I don't know, but it should be. I can picture acts such as the Beastie Boys, A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul or DJ Shadow having a blast using all those choice cuts... Two highlights in this record: "The Cisco Kid" and the title-track. The first is built on a enticing vocal hook, complemented by short sequences of four notes that punctuate the whole thing like a contraption stamping bus tickets or metrocards. And the title track is a moving plea sung by clear vocals and enhanced by wonderful harmonies--an indolent description of ghetto life not only conveyed through the lyrics, but through the music as well. Short funky cut "Where Was You At" and slow, bluesy "Four Cornered Room" are also worthy of note--the latter's ambience sounding even fantastical to an extent, as if you were watching the city from a rooftop at night and a UFO suddenly appeared out of nowhere... Unfortunately, both sides of this LP end with lackluster tracks. For side one, very long instrumental "City, Country, City" doesn't do anything that the title-track won't do ten times better later on--compare the saxophone solos in both songs, for instance: the one on "The World Is A Ghetto" sounds haunted thanks to its film noir overtones, whereas that sax in "City, Country, City" just seems to go through the motions, borrowing a few free-jazz tropes instead, but without using any of the harmonically daring outbursts of that genre. As for closer "Beetles In The Bog", it is an attempt to end proceedings with a rousing chorus, but... to be honest, those "la la la" shenanigans sound a little half-baked compared to similar endeavors by, say, Sly And The Family Stone. Using Sly Stone as a reference point for this other soul-funk-rock act that War was might be a little unfair to the latter, I'll grant you that. It's like comparing a second-tier sixties rock band with The Beatles: there's no way you can win that round. But *The World Is A Ghetto* is only six tracks long, and when two of them are clear misses (including one that takes up half of one album's side), it takes a heavy toll on the whole thing. You won't see that happening with masterworks performed by The Family Stone. There lies the huge difference. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 431 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 138 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 170

Pay attention, historians. Dimery and co. ignored "early modern" artists as pivotal as Robert Johnson, Lead Belly, Hank Williams or Woody Guthrie to then include this curio, admittedly interesting, but far from sounding as relevant as those names today. I get that using the album fornat to select recordings from the artists I've just quoted can be a little tricky (compilations would be a more apt word). Yet it's a "rule" that Dimery bent a couple of time anyway. So this can't be the only excuse he had here... On a more "subjective" note, there's a bit of bluegrass in those tunes, but I wish there was *more* of it to make the proceedings a little more lively. Nice harmonies there for sure, and some striking lyrics here and there. Yet I still get bored most of the time. Next please. Number of albums left to review: 430 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 138 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 171 (including this one)

Was about to dismiss that later Bruce Springsteen album as the sort of delusion hardcore fans of the "boss" usually have about him--read all those five-star reviews: reviewers admit the album is a bit hit-or-miss at times, and yet they can't refrain from giving a perfect grade to it. Even as a hardcore fan of Sonic Youth, Neil Young or Radiohead, I can show restraint when the time comes to evaluate those acts' later releases. So why can't they? Everything post-*Nebraska* can't match Springsteen's early highlights, enough said. That being said, I gotta admit some of the fans have a point: the first seven tracks of this record are really, really neat affairs. You have soaring choruses, high-class songwriting and production values, plus interesting instrumentation here and there. Inviting the spiritual son of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan to perform qawwali arrangements on a track only a few months after 9/11 speaks volumes about the thematic groundwork Springsteen covers here. Those songs are about love, social justice *everywhere*, and healing. And that's another aspect of this record that makes it worth a listen. I only wish the second part of this LP wasn't so lengthy, with far stellar songs most of the times. There were ways to turn this double-album into a perfect single disc given how things start and end here. Too bad self-editing wasn't in the boss's mind in those days (I have the same issue with supposed "classic" *The River*, by the way...). I expect this record to grow on me, though. Hence why I put it in my "waiting list". 3/5 for the purposes of this selection of "essential albums", translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3). Number of albums left to review: 430 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 139 (including this one) Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 171

Moby Grape's debut is not bad per se, but I think there's a good reason only 15 or 16 5-star reviews have been written about it on this app. Plus, the vast majority of the other reviewers gave a 3-star mark to it--and it's a trend towards a precise grading that is actually clearer than for most of the other albums in the list. To me, this kinda-"meh" global score ties in with something that's always rubbed me the wrong way in this record, as much of a fan of the sixties as I am: it's this debut's cruel lack of catchy hooks and memorable vocal lines. There's nothing in *Moby Grape* that acts such as The Byrds or Buffalo Springfield didn't do better at the time. Heck, there's nothing in this debut that Creedence Clearwater Revival or Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young didn't do *ten times better* no so long after. Ironically, the next releases by this Californian band were patchy affairs as well, but their highlights were a little more striking at least. It's those sorts of highlights that manage to transcend the times and specific styles in which they were written. But you can find none of them this band's debut--whereas you can find those treasures in so many other acts of the sixties, from the Zombies and the Kinks to the psychedelic "nuggets" found in the famous compilation bearing this name... There's a yarn going on about Moby Grape and the fact that they had "management issues", and that this situation partly explains why they've been quickly forgotten. I readily believe that story, yet if somebody told me that they were also somewhat *overhyped* around the time of their debut, I would also believe it. They were probably an awesome live act. But when it comes to songwriting and compositions, it seems to me their efforts can't compare with the names I've mentioned up there. Using this app, I sometimes feel like I'm condoning an unfair competition between thousands of awfully skilled musicians, here artificially gathered to receive harsh blows, mean takes and hair-splitting arguments ad infinitum. But as harsh as my own take about Moby Grape may sound for some ears, I think there's a clear consensus about this band today. As seen from 2023's vantage point, they're an interesting curio. But they don't pack the weight they supposedly once packed. It's when the hype is long gone that scales finally fall from your eyes. 2.5/5 for the purposes of this list, rounded up to 3. Which translates to a 7.5 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 429 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 139 Albums from the list I will certainly *not* include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 172 (including this one)

2005 is such a strange year for music. There's no overall consensus on the best allbums of that year, really. My personal favorites are records by Broadcast, Mars Volta, Sufjan Stevens, Bloc Party, Why?, Kanye West, LCD Soundsystem and Sigur Rós... Yet as much as I love those albums, I can readily understand why they would not be considered "essential" by a lot of other people--even if I *do* consider them essential. Apart from that small list of personal favourites, you had some cool stuff by acts such as Animal Collective or Bright Eyes in 2005. But is that stuff "essential" in the long run? The jury's still out on this one. And then you have overrated borefests by Gorillaz, The National or Coldplay (a few interesting tracks here and there, but as whole albums, they're clearly hit-or-miss affairs, in spite of the somewhat delirious "critical reception" of those particular records). So yeah, it feels that the mid-naughts were a transitional period, as if music itself didn't know where to go next, mulling over its options: go back to the past, just like that recent roots-rock revival? Embrace technology? Reject technology? Slumber your way through that endless string of "landfill indie" acts (most of them British)? This hesitation seemed to affect every style up there, from rap to rock to electronica... In the meantime, listeners with a knack for adventure and groundbreaking proposals had to wait for something truly *new* to come up. This is the context in which M.I.A. released her debut, and I can understand why it was such a breath of fresh air at the time, given those many "problems" popular music had as a whole in those days. Maya Arulpragasam and her producers were pointing the way forward in a manner that could be equally relevant for hip hop, electronica or indie. A lot of tracks shine in this record--too many to mention them all. And most of those productions were already trying very hard to break the mold of past habits so as to offer something new at last. That being said, M.I.A. would only *really* up the ante with her next album *Kala*, of "Paper Planes" fame, which is probably the one essential record she ever released. Not that the rest of her discography is not good. It's just that if you take this debut, for instance, it is only a first sketch before the greater picture. Besides, a few tracks in *Arular* are clearly fillers or awkward "experimental" attempts at crafting off-kilter bangers. Horrid "U.R.A.Q.T." comes to mind here, for example. It's those sorts of missteps she avoided for her next release, and the bangers in the latter were even catchier and more memorable than the ones in this debut. So, well... Don't get me wrong, I still like or even love most tracks in *Arular*. But I'm gonna save some room for more "essential" albums in my own list. There's only eight 5-star reviews about M.I.A.'s debut on this app after all. Sure, there are not many reviews written about it yet, so maybe the album's global score can go higher than this meagre 2.88/5 overall rating. Yet as much as I wish that global score to go up, I'm not gonna change my own rule of thumb: albums rejected from my own list can't have more than a 3/5 grade. It's a cruel world. I'll boost *Kala* to a perfect 5-star grade instead when it appears on this app (I know it's also in that 1001 albums book). Even though there's not so much that separates the two records, to be honest, apart from a clear upgrade in overall quality... 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 428 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 139 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 173 (including this one)

The ultimate tweefest. Not much losing sleep over, really. Or weight. Sorry, this looks mean, but there's a discrepancy between the lack of intensity I feel about the music on this record and Kate Carpenter's tragic fate as a tortured soul plagued with grave eating disorders for most of her adult life. I know it's quite a dumb take, but that was my instinctual reaction when this album and band popped up today. Not that it justifies such subjective and insensitive reaction. I just can't find any other way to articulate my thoughts for now. But I'm gonna try a little harder for the rest of this humble review. "Crescent Noon" and "Mr. Guder" are charming deep cuts towards the end, I admit it at least. Appreciated the minor-major modulations of the first, and loved the Bach-inspired flourishes on the second. As for the jazzy tropicalia conclusion in "Another Song" at the very end of the tracklisting, it's too little and too late in terms of genuine flavours by that point, unfortunately. Worse, such a late left-turn doesn't make any shred of sense in the context of the album. It seems like Carpenters managed to turn the few assets they had into flaws on this one. And apart from a few moments here and there, such as the ones I've evoked up there, this LP goes from corny to downright ridiculous. There are so many syrupy, sacharine tunes in it that I'm starting to get concerned about the sugar level in my blood this morning. And sucking life out of a lively, energetic song such as "Help" speaks volumes about the way you can destroy even the best compositions out there. Terrible, terrible work on an artistic level (even if the performance and production values are admittedly decent). Rest in peace, Karen. Thanks Richard for giving ABBA an effective starting point so that they could hone their own craft later on. And please, oh please, Robert, take out that LP out of everyone's sight and give us something with real character. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5 for musical skills, technical proficiency, competent performances and professional production values + ... 1 for the overall lack of taste!). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 427 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 139 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 174 (including this one)

This is a classic performance by a jazz giant. But Robert, please answer this: where are Mingus' *Mingus Ah Um*, Miles Davis' *Milestones*, Art Blakey's *Moaning*, Horace Silver's *Song For My Father*, Nina Simone's *Little Girl Blue* and John Coltrane's *Blue Train*, *Giant Steps*, *My Favorite Things* or *Africa Brass*??? Where are they, Robert? Don't you ever think the *1001 Albums You Must Listen To Before You Die* book has the final word about jazz. Ever. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 427 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 140 (including this one, at least if I manage to include all the records I've quoted up there in my own list). Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 174

House music. Well, not the "pure" kind of it that can be found in LFO's "Frequencies" or some of theose earlier Detroit acts. More like a "big beat" version of it. The Prodigy specialized in "punk" aggro energy, while The Chemical Brothers favored pyrotechnic psychedelics (or psychedelic pyrotechnics, I don't know...). Leftism's own trick was to sprinkle a lot of dub or reggae influences here and there. And it works out. Mostly. Even if that fomula didn't yield tracks that were as successful or memorable as the hits released by the two aforementioned acts. This album is what it is, I guess. Some of it aged surprisingly well, some of it didn't. I'm rather indifferent to the whole thing, to be honest. It's hard to invest emotions into a style originally meant to point towards the future (see the name of the cut closing the proceedings), which, ironically, sounds so dated now. Yet I can still sense that a lot of imagination has been put into most of those compositions, and that its tracklisting is pretty dynamic, building up to an interesting John Lydon featuring on the penultimate song. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purpose (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 426 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 141 (including this one, waiting to see of it grows on me later on). Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 174

What's the ugliest part of this album? Some say it's the goofy vocal interpolations. Some say it's the mean-spirited jabs at hippie culture. But I think it's the music. I think it's the music. Sometimes Frank Zappa was too smart for his own good. Don't get me wrong, quite often, this record is a great parody. I only wish some of the jokes about both "phony hippies" and their square counterparts didn't repeat themselves so much. But I guess such a wearisome repetition is part of the dada-inspired endeavor suggested in the album's title. So, OK. You see, kiddies, the cultural war that's currently going on in the US isn't anything new, and if this record has one merit, it's that it documents that sixties version of it. Also appreciated the jabs at the music industry, by the way. The line between blatant cynicism and shrewd opportunism has never been all that clear when it comes to Zappa's ethos, so maybe one shouldn't take those jabs at face value. That's still an interesting ambiguity here, one among many others. If you add all those ambiguities up, Zappa's lyrical program might even remind you of a Thomas Pynchon novel, where the author mindfucks with you on one page only to give in to slapstick comedy on another--both acts being actually part of the same program, of course. All of this is fine and well, but the problem is that if the music in this LP was as interesting as its concept, I would *really* have my fun. Newflash: apart from a couple of moments on the second side, the music in *We"re Only In It For The Money* is dull and ridiculous. Yeah, I know, it's ridiculous *on purpose*. Doesn't change the fact that it's dull. Of course, a record bearing such a provocative name needs to have "stupid" music in it. But did it need to be stupid *to such an extent*? What works so well in *Freak Out* or *Hot Rats* is that most of the compositions in them are great. Only later, when you finish counting all the layers of irony--slyly sprinkled at first, then bellowed through a bullhorn at the end--that's when you finally understand where Zappa is really coming from. This is how you execute a dada concept well in my book. By giving to your audience different ways to look at it. And incidentally, it's also how you can make your work go through the years better. I mean, who really cares about the structural hypocrisy of American flower power today, apart from us music geeks and historians? That's right, nobody. So in comparison to other Zappa records that I know of and can appreciate, I think *We"re Only In It For The Money* ultimately falls victim of its own titular program. The album is an important one in terms of "concept", sure. But it's mostly an excruciating listen. And jeeze louise, Zappa can call me "square" from his grave all he wants, god rest his soul, I'm still taking that album business seriously. At least seriously enough to call the man's bluff. For all intents and purpose, *We"re Only In It For The Money* is a dud. At the end of the day, a self-conscious dud is still a dud no matter what. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 6/10 grade for more general purpose, mostly for "historical" importance (5+1). Number of albums left to review: 425 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 264 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 141 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 175 (including this one)

Kid A was a dream. A frigid, postmodernist dream experienced by a soul unable to process its own emotions, and holding back any clear feelings it goes through--doubting them, even. It's a dream about modern alienation--a weird dream that might or might not be linked to the influence hypertechnology has upon us all, disconnecting us to ourselves instead of connecting us to others. Underlining this state of affairs at the turn of the millenium, the pardoxical miracle that this record operates is unique. The more feelings in it are repressed--the more their expression is muddled by static, oversaturation and informational entropy--, the more kindred souls can be moved by the failed attempts of Kid A's protagonist to convey their emotions in any recognizable or expected manner. Some of this thematic groundwork is covered by the lyrics, but most of it is expressed through the music itself. And contrary to what happens in Radiohead's other masterpiece *OK Computer*, emotions in *Kid A* surge out of a lack of emphasis, and not through a wealth of it. This is where the oneiric character of the record is pivotal. Disconnection and alienation are so prominent in its aesthetics, everything looks and sounds like a dream. It's not even clear if it's a good one or a bad one. *Amnesiac* is the companion piece to *Kid A*, recorded during the same sessions. And it feels like waking up from the dream that *Kid A* was. You try to pick the pieces in the morning and solve the puzzle. What was this strange dream about? What is wrong with me? Is there a way out of the labyrinth? You ask those questions to yourself as you're taking the tube to work, you and other commuters "packed like sardines in crushed tin box". Whiffs of the dream come back to haunt you in those waking hours (that other version of "Morning Bell"). You look tired and despondent and worried. And after a while, as you start contemplating the "real" world--real but kafkaesque, dystopian--you wonder if the dream is not actually going on. Except that this time, any sense of elatedness is gone. Only melancholy and frustration remain. *Amnesiac* is therefore less cohesive, more disjointed than *Kid A* is, but such disjointed aesthetics also serve a purpose in this record. And the album's got highlights every genuine Radiohead already knows about and love. It's got "Pyramid Song", a song for the ages with its strange meter, Escher-like chord progression and tortured wails in the dark. It's got the paranoid, dry and hieratic "You And Whose Army". It's got "Knives Out" and the cyberpunk, Bladerunner-like moodpiece "Like Spinning Plates", with its inverted vocal parts sounding like telepathic brain waves reaching your skull from afar. It's got cyclic "I Might be Wrong" and the brass-band-enhanced cri du coeur "Life In A Glasshouse". It's got soul and anxiety and so many questions for you. And just like *Kid A*, those question marks can resonate in you long after you've listened to the album. 4,5/5 for the purposes of this app, rounded up to 5 here. Number of albums left to review: 424 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 265 (including this one) Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 141 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 175

I gotta admit it, I dismissed this album as an unfairly popular one when it came out. I had loved *Blood Sugar Sex Magic* a few years before, but I had gone on to other genres in 1999. And what I heard from Red Hot Chili Peppers in that year didn't seem aimed at me anymore. Now, almost 24 years later, I know that it was me who had changed, not the band. And I know I was wrong to dismiss this LP. The first side is one of the most mind-blowing collection of hits that had ever graced a rock album. And the second side is not bad either. You can still hear songs from this album in many "rock revival" radio stations today. Once again, this could lead a listener to have a bad opinion of *Californication*. But the reviewers claiming that this LP didn't age well don't know anything about young folks in 2023. My 17-year old stepson doesn't buy *everything* from that rock revival thing (mostly aimed at the generation of his parents). But he bought this album. Like, he literally bought it. It was the first vinyl he ever paid money for, and the first one he owned--even before he had anything to play the record on. And he's gonna remember that for the rest of his days. Not so bad for a first buy, eh? Under that light how can I not give five stars to this record? Beyond my little personal anecdote, it seems obvious that if you select at least two RHCP albums in a list of essential albums, you need this one and *Blood Sugar Sex Magic*, enough said. Everything else that Anthony Kiedis, Flea and company released is probably less relevant than those two records--even though *One Hot Minute* has also grown on me a little with the years. But I guess that's a story for another day, kiddies. In the meantime... Number of albums left to review: 423 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 266 (including this one) Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 141 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 175

"Pretty In Pink": it starts with an interesting verse, with some nice instrumentation supprporting a raucous vocal performance. Then a promising pre-chorus surges. And then... No chorus. Then nothing much, really. We're back to the verse, played by a band that basically goes through the motions. The song cycles on itself--a little hypnotic, but not enough to justify all the repetitive patterns in it. Being a single, "Pretty In Pink" is supposedly one of the most striking tracks on the album. But to be honest, it's a bit of a letdown, as is everything else in this record--especially compared to other post-punk acts around 1981 (Wire, Gang Of Four, Siouxsie And the Banshees, Joy Division, The Cure, Magazine...). As for the supposedly "psychedelic" and proto-punk influences on this LP, they might give some whiffs of originality to the whole thing, but sadly, *Talk Talk Talk*' compositions are nothing compared to the ones of, say, The Soft Boys' *Underwater Moonlight*. Now here was a record owing to prepunk times that could leave an imprint on your mind from the very first listen. Pretty sure that ten listens in, it's still impossible to hum or whistle Psychedelic Furs songs in your shower. Not that all "essential" albums need to be whistled or hummed. Post-punk / new wave was not *all* about that, considering you could relate The Psychedelic Furs to that early eighties subgenre. But if you can't hum or whistle a band's output, what you need from them is some real groove (Gang Of Four), some cinematic atmosphere (Wire, The Cure), some real tension (Joy Division), or some strong gothic flavours coupled with truly memorable harmonies and a vocal performance for the ages (Siouxsie And The Banshees). And *Talk Talk Talk* has none of those. To put it in a nutshell, the music in this album is not inherently bad. It's just that it's not "essential". 2/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes. Next, please... Number of albums left to review: 423 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 266 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 141 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 176 (including this one)

Minor Threat, Black Flag and Bad Brains must be included in such a list as stellar representatives of early hardcore. Can Circle Jerks be added, aside of their similar status? I could say yes, because they were very good as well. But I could say no because 15 minutes is the length of an EP and not the one of an L.P. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translatingto a 8/10 grade for more general pusposes (5 + 3) Albums left to review: more than 400, I've temporarily lost count here. Will I include this one in my own list? Maybe.

Hey 1001 Albums App people! Could we take out the short (and poorly written) one-star "reviews" currently wasting useful space at the top of this section? Please? Apart from the very first example currently heading said sectiob (more on that later), it looks like those reviews were written by lazy ignoramuses, who have only listened to around 60 albums from this app to boot. Click on "view authors", you'll see. Besides, given the dates when such "hot takes" were written, it's obvious that those reviewers never finished this project anyway. Which means I'm not even directly offending anyone here when I call them "ignoramuses". Don't get me wrong, I'm all for free speech, it's just that there are ways to say you don't like a record without sounding too obnoxious about it. At the risk of sounding a little like an "elitist", I think that you would ideally need some sort of license to get access to a more mature version of this 1001 albums app thing. It would at least prevent licensed users from wasting their time with so-called " reviews" written by folks venting their rage because they can't like what most other people seem to like (see that 4.2 global score). Which, if you pay attention to my exact phrasing here, is the *exact contrary of elitism*. Not that this phenomenon of edgelords venting their rage against almost-universally- loved music is anything new. You can see the same sort of extremely marginal, hysterically negative reactions for the Beatles' melodies, for instance. Given how much Kurt Cobain was a fan of the latter, he would probably have been flattered by the limited negative attention. Ain't that funny? Likewise, I have a sneaking suspicion Cobain would have found that *first* one-star review in this section amusing--the one I mentioned in passing earlier. Yeah, it's that "Unplug me, I can't bear this album" thing. You can keep that one, 1001 albums app managers. Because that review has been written by someone taking the project seriously, at least (300 reviews, and still writing them). And also because that one reviewer found a sarcastic and objectively smart way to express their subjective distaste of *MTV Unplugged In New York*. "Unplug me". It wouldn"t be that surprising to learn that Kurt Cobain once used the same expression when Nirvana prepared for the album--in keeping with the man's dark sense of humour and the disillusioned sort of banter actually heard between the songs on the album. Cobain used the opportunity MTV gave him to create this live folk masterpiece. But he was also wary of the commodification of his music, even if he actively took advantage of it. So "unplug me" would be an apt way to express his misgivings in a self-deprecatory manner. Obviously, the phrase "unplug me" also suggests Cobain's tragic fate, a ghost that can be sensed everywhere in this record, looming over the proceedings. See that extraordinary version of "Penny Royal Tea" played solo by Kurt, with its barebones instrumentation (guitar + voice), and the maxxed out intensity that comes out of it. Not to mention that eerie modulation from minor to major on the "tonic" A-chord starting each verse. It's a modulation that's absent in *In Utero*'s amplified studio version, by the way. Turns out this acoustic live album is filled with endearing little details like that. Some of them are small changes to the original compositions, just like the example I've just given. Others are small blunders, like that short bum note at the start of "The Man Who Sold The World"'s solo. But *all* of those details, whether the were "planned" or not, give character to what was mostly a promotional exercise at first. The stars aligned for this recording. It sounds authentic, sincere, serious, restrained--even a little austere at times, and yet lush with a beautiful sonic palette. And it took a genius act like Nirvana to associate those words with the MTV brand. The setlist also helps a lot. Naturally, Nirvana chose the most logical songs you could play acoustic versions of from their repertoire. In that realm, the highlights are "About A Girl", "Come As You Are", "Pennyroyal Tea", and that incredibly moving version of "All Apologies" right before the last track (more on it later). Yet what *also* struck minds at the time is the good taste Cobain had for the list of bands he chose to cover: The Vaselines, David Bowie, Meat Puppets (with two of them playing with the band here!) and of course Lead Belly. And those acts provide compositions that are easily transcended by the occasion and Kurt's hearfelt performance. Not a lot people remembered or even knew Bowie's "The Man Who Sold The World" before the show. It was a shame, and we can all thank Nirvana they changed that state of affairs, just as they did for each tune they covered for this project. Closer "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?", especially, comes off as a definitive statement from the band. Cobain's raspy vocals are haunting from start to finish in this LP, but here, for that take on Lead Belly's rendition of an old traditional blues, said vocals go to a whole other level of pouring-your-heart-out-to-the-world-and-see-everyone-break-into-tears-in-result. I remember reading that Cobain chose this song to finish the set because he didn't want to do an encore, and that the New York studio audience would quickly understand that, after that last performance, there was no use calling back the band on stage. Mission accomplished, boys. And girl--don't forget Lori Goldston on cello! My partner often plays this record at home on sundays. It's the sound of us relaxing, but also, I suspect, the sound of her and I reminiscing about our youths (even if we never really talk about it when we play the album). It's very bittersweet. So I would lie if I said nostalgia wasn't involved there somewhere. It's odd, because I'm always pretty defensive about the part played by nostalgia in music, I want to avoid such complacency in my listening habits. But here is a notable exception, I guess. I know this record stood the test of time anyway, that it's objectively good. So why not go nostalgic, just for this one? Nirvana recorded a folk masterpiece for the ages with *Unplugged In New York. And, well... melancholy, heartbreak and nostalgia are always fitting emotions for such a genre, aren't they? Number of albums left to review: 421 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 267 (including this one). Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 142 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 176

*Californication* popped up a few days ago, and long story short, I wrote that it aged far better that I would have expected it to. So much better that I gave it a perfect grade. Today, it's the turn of Red Hot Chili Peppers' *other* major work within its discography. Now the question is: did *Blood Sugar Sex Magik* age as well as its younger sibling? Let's do a track-by-track survey: opener "The Power of Equality" is a prefect rendition-through-live-instruments of the sort of track Public Enemy--quoted in the lyrics--could have written around 1991. The only difference is that Kiedis raps about his "white ass" at some point, emphasizing the importance of black music on him and his band, yet taking into account the risks of cultural appropriation. Nice touch, Anthony. Then, "If You Have To Ask" draws from Parliament/Funkadelic, furthering that visible influence of black culture on the proceedings. Too bad that track is a more meat-and-potatoes affair compared to the opener, as fun as its mock-female-background-vocals are. Fortunately, 3/4-metered "Breaking The Girl" quickly follows, and that waltzy, dreamy-yet-lively cut is still a gem more than thirty years later (with those wonderful flutes sound being a huge part of its timeless flavor). "Funky Monks" then returns to less intense, more conventional funky shenanigans. Bonus points for the way that funk riff is played in such a laidback and sleazy mannner, though, giving it an almost "delta blues" air that's particularly evocative. The song is about groupies, continuing a batch of tunes about Kiedis's sexual obsessions. Which leads us to instantly memorable *Suck My Kiss*. Frusciante's guitar playing is electric in all senses of the word there, as in all the tracks before. I like sudden 180-degree-turns in my favorite albums, and great ballad "I Could Have Lied" offers me that--even though, in retrospect, the song is just a draft for later hit "Under The Bridge" (more on that later). "Mellowship Slinky..." and "The Righteous &The Wicked" then return to RHCP's usual funk-rock antics, but they only feel like fillers before "Give It Away", as if the listener had to bide their time in a waiting room before the real deal. I agree with most reviewers here, by the way--and I already felt that at the time of this album's release: this CD is too long, and producer Rick Rubin, as great as his influence was on all the wonders of this album, should have pushed for *more* self-editing so as to give birth to a shorter, neater affair. And so here comes "Give It Away", a devilish jam for the ages. Flea's bassline is obviously insane in it, as is the backwards-played guitar part (?) on the bridges. What a hit! The title track then follows, and it's a slow, sly, devious number, with quiet-loud-quiet dynamics that make it a great heavy track, owing as much to funk as to hard-rock classics. Ballad "Under The Bridge" then concludes that perfect trilogy right in the middle of the album. I don't need to say more about that song, there's a good reason everyone and their mothers know it. And that good reason can be summed up in four words: perfect verse, perfect chorus. I should probably stop that track-by-track listing now, because nothing after those three back-to-back songs I've mentioned in my last paragraph reaches their incredible heights. Take out Flea's slapped bassline, "Naked In The Rain" would still make a nice lead single for Stone Temple Pilots or even Pearl Jam, though. The mere fact that it's only a deep cut in this record is a testament to RHCP's abilities. And then, after that, there are still very good moments in the tracks "Apache Rose Peacock", "The Greeting Song" and "My Lovely Man"--even though those good moments are interspersed with less memorable ones. As for "Sir Psycho Sexy" the real closer of this album (before that one-minute wink to both Robert Johnson and the band's name), let's be fair: that other homage to the band's former producer George Clinton is obviously a jam that goes on for far too long--even though its psychedelic conclusion, courtesy of that mellotron (?), here coupled with Frusciante's neat guitar riffing, is well worth your time. I haven't really talked about Kiedis's lyrics in this review. I understand why a lot of reviewers in here complained about its supposed dumb / awkward / hackneyed moments. Yet I think it's pretty unfair to judge Kiedis with the standards you would use to judge Bob Dylan or Kendrick Lamar, instead of the ones needed for Funkadelic's jams and funky moodpieces, for instance. There's a general sense of fun and hedonism in those lyrics that could lead youto dismiss them as shallow banter, sure. But there's also some sudden surges of anxiety or even existential self-questioning. Plus, there are some socially-conscious lines of thought once in a while, in keeping with the large old-school hip hop influence on those songs. And in that context, Kiedis' lyrics still sound diverse, rich and interesting, as "funny" as they look on the page, without the music to support them. So let me do the maths here: out of the 16 real tracks (not counting outro "They're Red Hot"), you have: - Five *stellar* numbers - Around six good to excellent songs - Around five filler tracks that could have easily been left off on the cutting floor (with the eight other songs from the session Rubin and the band left aside, according to sources--two of which are included in the spotify link, if ever you're interested about them). So if you take into account the weight of the stellar songs and add a *small* bonus point because of them (plus the fact that a double album can't harbor only highlights anyway), you'd have a 12/16 grade here, translating to a 3.75/5 one for the purposes of this list of essential records. Now add the cultural importance of this commercially successful rock-rap LP, as well as its influence for the rest of the nineties, and I think it's reasonable to round things up to a solid four-star mark (or a 9/10 grade for more general purposes). *Blood Sugar Sex Magik* aged less well than *Californication*, and is therefore one notch under it. But I still think it's an "essential" record. It's odd to do something as supposedly rigorous as maths for such a jammy and sensual LP. But when you can't think whether a record is "a king or a pauper", maybe you need to channel your subjectivity (and potential nostalgia) through something like maths to be a little more convincing. I very well understand why some folks--especially younger millenials and zoomers--would find *Blood Sugar Sex Magik* quite dated at first glance, and so why they would feel like its inclusion in this list is unwarranted. I'm just trying to suggest one thing to those younger listeners: go beyond this album's excessive length and topsy-turvy tracklist. If you manage to do that, chances are that you'll find out there's still a very good record there somewhere. Number of albums left to review: 420 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 268 (including this one). Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 142 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 176

Probably one of those instances of "you had to be there at the time to understand". That said, if really you need just *one* example of what a early nineties eurodance version of a rave party should sound like in this list of essential albums, *The White Room* is your best bet here--even if, more than eurodance, what we have here has layers of opportunistic cultural recycling that were actually very British, and so contrasting a lot with those other Italian or German cheesy dance acts around 1990. See the wealth of samples used here, with or without permission: so many winks to popular music of all stripes that it's easy to lose count, from that sample of MCS's "Kick Out The Jams" to this bassline nicked from the Twin Peaks title theme on trip-hop-like "Build A Fire". Here is a concern for richness, invention and callbacks to music history that low-brow outfits such as Technotronic, 2Unlimited or Snap! would never reach for even one second of their equally short career. So if you stick to what is usually expected from that often maligned genre of popular dance music from thirty years ago, there's no denying that The KLF were masters of their game. Every track on the first side may have all the clichés of that UK Dance Club thing, sure, yet they are so effective that you may feel inclined to bob your head to them, as "dated" as some of those shenanigans are. "What Time Is Love" and "3AM Eternal" are the most striking examples of such an effective way to rob the charts in 1991 and yet still manage to win hearts in 2023 (in a genre that supposedly never ages well, i.e. EDM). Too bad that the version of "Last Train To Trancentral" on the same first side is a more subdued remix compared to the equally slapping single version--as good as this remix is. Had this single version, filled with an orgy of vocoder-laden vocal parts, been included on this side, you'd have a perfect first part for this record. What will probably go over the head of most listeners is that Bill Drummond and James Cauty were also very sly foxes as artists and "high concept" creators. They first wrote a book about how to hit the charts from the underground *before* managing to do so for real with the singles from this album. Quite a feat that they held their promises against all odds...but it's not even the most interesting part of the picture. See for example what they did with all the money they earned after they hit those charts--it might be a huge surprise for you, either a pleasant or an unpleasant one, depending on your mileage. But before they burnt all those piles of dough to the ground--yes, you read that correctly--they also managed to: - create many fake bands to broadcast their music. - instill a very "situationist" brand of irony to "dance" music that acts like Gang Of Four could only dream of when they injected funk basslines to their post-punk agenda ten years before. - Record a classic electronic "chill-out" LP named... well, *Chill Out*--which actually inspired a lot of melodies and arrangements in *The White Room*. - Erase the lines between high art and blatant commercialism, or the ones between "good taste" and "bad taste". That last point is the most prophetic of their endeavors, foretelling the success of many later acts going from Daft Punk and LCD Soundsystem to more recent strands of hyperpop such as Charli XCX, Sophie, 100 gecs or crazy pop-post-hardcore outfit The Armed. I have a feeling that this recent hyperpop craze, as weird and probably promised to failure as it is, is not so far from rehabilitating The KLF. Only time will tell. But if such rehabilitation happens, I reckon it's gonna happen very soon at least--before the wheel turns again, which is always sooner than later. All this is fine, but what really saves this album from all those tired tropes about music cycles and "turning wheels" is its far more ambient second side, with all its groovy, cinematic-yet-lvery-aidback cuts such as the title track or "No More Tears". Those songs are stellar, enough said. Subtly layered and subdued and sounding like nothing else, whether at the time or today. Concluding the proceedings, the mock-Las-Vegas-novelty cut "Justified and Ancient" returns to the layers of irony of the first side, but this time with an extra grain of salt. What if Drummond and Caulty were actually serious here? Us poor sheep will probably never know. All that"s left for us to do is to take that Trancentral Train to the promises of a future of dance music that never really occured--at least not in that exact shape--but one that could still occur yet, if you listen to this the right way. *The White Room* has always had a somewhat nostalgic feel to its rave party antics--a clearly melancholic subtext if you listen to its arrangements an flourishes--and such subtext made it age far better then many other supposed EDM highlights of the same day and age. Not so bad for a record whose sound is supposedly "dated", at least on first sight. 4/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes (5+4). Number of albums left to review: 419 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 269 (including this one). Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 142 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 176

There are two reasons all those "classic" records featuring Antônio Carlos Jobim (the Getz / Gilberto ones, or this record with Frankie "Old Blue Eyes") all have different versions of "The Girl From Ipanema" and "Corcovado", placing them in a prominent position (either sung by Gil, Astrud or Frank, or played as an instrumental). And those two reasons are: A) They are great tunes. B) The other tunes are nice and make for bittersweet-yet-airy soundtrack in your living room... yet let's be honest, they all sound the same, don't they? Same types of chords, same sorts of string arrangements, same laidback or close-to-inert energy--depending on your personal taste for bossa-nova. One exception for me is "How Insensitive". The orchestral strings there can remind you of the lush melancholy of Sinatra's own "It Was A Very Good Year". But you might elect to single out a different tune, of course. None of them are bad. But it's quite hard to decide which ones stand out. Because most of the songs on this album are still, well, samey. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that one single person in Dimery's team selected all those LPs by Getz/Gilberto, Astrud Gilberto, or Frank Sinatra. And since most of those LPs feel like copycat versions of another album selected by this same person, it gives you the weird feeling that this contributor is an old geezer having a very *narrow* comfort zone--always returning to the same songs featured in one way or another in those albums. Honestly, that way to enjoy music sounds very *boring* after yet another umpteenth version of those tropicalía or music-hall standards. There are so many great songs and so many interesting music genres out there, as Dimery's overall list proves it to us daily. So why always go back to the same old stuff? I've just read that this LP lost a Grammy to the Beatles' *Sgt. Pepper...*. Yep, the times they were changing fast during the late sixties. So maybe you can include early highlights by Sinatra, Gil, Getz and Jobim in a list of the most essential albums of all time. But including later releases by those admittedly legendary artists is most probably overkill, in my honest and humble opinion. So next, please. 2/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+7). Number of albums left to review: 418 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 269 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 142 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 177 (including this one).

Not as "extreme" as I thought it would be, honestly. This record having one of the lowest global scores on this app, I was already aware of its "reputation" through some of the reviews left here. I was expecting utter chaos. Well, chaos is there, there's no arguing about that. But good music is there too, as "tiring" as said music may be for some virgin ears. Oh, by the way: wikipedia rants about the supposed "grindcore" and "thrashcore" influences on those Ornette Coleman covers, but I gotta say that those influences sound quite superficial to me. Maybe I'm deaf to them, I don't know, but I'm relatively familiar with those genres, so I don't think I'm talking though my hat here... Indeed, it seems to me that the so-called "punk influences" on *Spy vs Spy* mostly came from the fact that John Zorn was hanging out with members of that scene at the time. But essentially, what we have here is more like an amped-up and sped-up version of free-jazz, which doesn't owe a lot to hardcore punk, except for a few quick, subliminal rhythm patterns once in a while. As a matter of fact, and for the first four or five tracks at least, you can easily link this work to the free-jazz giants of the preceding decades. You just need to add more amphetamines or cocaine to the mix. Symbolically speaking, of course... Things get even more hectic in the middle of the LP though, somewhere between "Enfant" and "Ecars". Zorn and company are making a mean and wonderful racket there, and aspirin is highly recommended by that point. Yet starting with "Feet Music", Zorn and his musicians let things breathe a little again. The proceedings are not exactly "mellow" there, mark my words--but there's a film-noir dimension to some of those cuts that's, well... interesting. Those last cuts would rather illustrate frantic action scenes, instead of melancholic ones, obviously. But once again, we're not so far from certain other jazz traditions that also hailed form NYC. Now the real problem with the presence of this record in Dimery's list does not come from the record itself, very ironically. As "weird" as *Spy vs Spy* is, it is what it is--not worse than plenty of other "experimental" recordings out there, and probably even better than many others. No, the real issue stems from the following situation: a) There's no Ornette Coleman album in the 1001 Albums book. Yet every jazz fan knows how much of a pivotal (and controversial) figure he was at the turn of the sixties. It's a little as if the book had selected an album made out of covers of Bob Dylan without selecting any of Bob's original albums. Including *The Shape Of Jazz To Come* in the book would probably have been enough. Yet, like so many jazz masterpieces--especially in the subcategory of free jazz--said album is conspicuously absent from Dimery's work. b) I'm no more of an expert about John Zorn than I am one of Ornette Coleman, but I happen to have a couple of friends who know him quite well. I can't say that I've dug any further after the evenings we spent together when they played some of Zorn's works to me (it was a long time ago, and I only have a blurry memory of what the music sounded like). Yet I'm adamant they never told me about *Spy vs Spy*'s existence. When it comes to Zorn's hardcore-free-jazz and film-noir-oriented work, they probably played *Naked City*, with its reference points going from Ennio Morricone's soundtracks to the Cramps and B52s gothic strands of 50s rock. And they surely played excerpts from the "world-music-oriented" collection of "Masada" albums--summing up a lot of the man's overall sense of sonic adventure. Those albums (*Naked City* and the *Masada" collection) have even been the starting point of two of Zorn's most famous side-projects as a group member--side-priojects actually named after those LPs. Which probably proves how important those records are in his discography. To put it in a nutshell, it appears that Dimmery's inclusion of *Spy vs Spy* is a disservice not only to *one* artist whose name is associated with the project, but to *two* of them, both Coleman and Zorn. Besides, it doesn't take an expert to quickly get that this record is a very poor entry point to know more about those two legendary musicians. It's too "niche", and not much more than an anecdote compared to the greater picture I'm sensing here--once again, both for Ornette Coleman and John Zorn. So I'm gonna have to do my own research elsewhere, I'm afraid... I'm still giving a 3/5 grade to *Spy vs Spy* according to the purposes of this list of "essential" albums (translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes--5+3). Because I feel like the record's global score is unfairly low, given what it really is and the sort of audience it aims at. Yet I can't argue with the innocent listeners who have been confronted to the album without having the slightest contextual elements in hand to understand the global works of the artists who originated this music, in one way or another. Which is why I don't feel like it's necessary to include this LP is a general list of "essential" albums. Let potentially interested people come to it through other (and longer) paths. Exposing it like this, without any preliminary caution or explanation, is only exposing it to ridicule from the masses. Which is pretty unfair. Number of albums left to review: 417 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 269 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 142 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 178 (including this one).

What's equally fascinating and unsettling with rivals Biggie Smalls and Tupac Shakur is how much aware they were if their upcoming, early violent deaths. A lot of rappers brag about that--even though there's no *valuable* reason to brag about such a thing. But the way 2PAC and B.I.G.'s lyrics keep on returning to their own deaths can give you so many cold shudders, retrospectively. About 2PAC's magnum opus now: the rapper's flow and voice are very often as neat as his lyrics are well-crafted, generally speaking. There's even a close-to-stifling aspect to that tight flow that perfectly conveys Tupac's paranoid persona. Listening to the album, you can sense why a young Kendrick Lamar would be so impressed by this master lyricist. When it comes to the music and production values, the album is much more of a mixed bag, however. It starts strong, there's no arguing about that, between the effective boom bap of "If I Die Tonight" and "Temptations" to those samples of a wailing blues harmonica on "So Many Tears". Yet after the first four tracks, productions revert to an excess of cliché-laden P-funk gangster rap arrangements and R'n'B background vocals that were already aging very fast by 1995. And if even if you consider those sorts of shenanigans still had clear artistic values at that time, there's nothing in those filler cuts that Dre's productions didn't do better during the nineties, just to take a very famous reference point in that specific subgenre. One notable exception is "Dear Mama", the platonic ideal of a track where a rapper pays tribute to his mother going through so many hardships to raise her children alone, with an electric guitar sample that's nothing short of iconic. It's the sort of track that other rappers who did the same sort of tribute to their mum--going from Kanye West to Jay-Z--had no choice but to take into account before doing their own spin on it. Another notable exception is "Old School". another cool boom bap banger with a quite laidback atmosphere to its beats, enhanced by mesmerizing flute samples. There's also a live energy to "Fuck The World" (are those drums *real drums*?--I think they are!), which easily redeems the P-funk clichés in that admittedly second-tier track. And finally, "Outlaw"'s electric piano loops also give an ominous mood to the album closer. To put it in a nutshell, musically there's a batch of underwhelming cuts in the middle of this LP, but if you have to include *one* 2PAC album in the list, it's probably the one (*All Eyez On Me*'s length makes it a far more difficult entry point to Tupac's oeuvre, but I guess that's a story for another time, kiddies). In all fairness, it would be a shame not to include at least one album by a rap legend such as 2PAC in such a list. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/5 for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 416 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 270 (including this one) Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 142 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 178.

The first track sounds like a neutered version of Mötörhead, without the spark that can make the latter thrilling. The second track sounds like a neutered version of Black Sabbath, without the spark that can make the latter thrilling. The third track is a famous single, admittedly catchy. The fourth track sounds like a neutered version of Van Halen, without the spark that can make the latter thrilling. Or is it a neutered version of AC/DC? Or some proto-Guns'n'Roses? Anyway... I can't decide if the fifth track is as moving as an old union song, or just plain ridiculous. The sixth track is yet another dumb compositon by Judas Priest, the ultimate cheesefest hairmetal band. And the seventh. And the eighth. And so on... You get the picture now, I believe. The stats in this app say I don't like "metal" and "hard rock". Nope, I *can* like those genres. It's just that I hate a lot of albums in that style that the so-called "specialist" within Dimery's team selected. Whoever he is, that guy (he's probably a bloke, right?) just has an awful taste in music. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 4/10 grade for more general purposes (4 + 0). Number of albums left to review: more than 500 (I've temporarily lost count) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (including this one--many others are more important to me)

The review currently topping this section, mentionning Beck's "thrift store hodgepodge aesthetic', is just pitch-perfect. I have nothing meaningful to add to it, except for one thing: that sample of Them' version of Bob Dylan's "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" on "Jack-Ass" is one of the most brilliant ideas the nineties has ever had. And it speaks volumes that, even without that wonderful electric guitar loop, Beck's song is still one of the best folk-rock tracks to be found in a repertoire already filled with so many wonders. 5/5 Number of albums left to review: 414 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 (including this one) Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 142 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 179.

I'm confused. There's a traditional song called "Diarabi" whose melody I'm head over heels about, and I just *know* for sure that Ali Farka Touré is part of an array of African artists who play it in their repertoire. Yet it's not the "Diaraby" (with a 'y' at the end?) that closes this album, which has a totally different music and overall melody. Can someone explain? Reading the reviews I hear there's another Ali Farka Touré record in the list, and I hope that: a) It's got the "Diarabi" song I'm looking for. b) It's as varied and adventurous as this album with Ry Cooder is, and has as many charming or enticing moments. Mixing American blues and Malian music makes so much sense. But you got tracks on this album that are far more *African*, and they sound good too Malian music is still a genre I'm not fully acquainted with, though, so I would lie if i said that I found *everything* in *Talking Timbuktu* to be striking, though. But reading the "user's reviews" on All Music (written by listeners who obviously appreciated this LP), it seems that this record is a "slow burner". So I'm gonna give it the full benefit of the doubt here and elect for a neutral grade for the purposes of his list, translating to a 8 grade for more general purposes (5+3) Number of albums left to review: 413 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 143 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 179.

I knew Nico was quite the tortured soul, but it's through this app that I've learned that she allegedly indulged in racist tirades in private sometimes (and probably even did worse than that at one point!). It's a damn shame, because I have always loved her voice, whether with the Velvet Underground or without. But I understand why some folks would rate her one star because of that. Call that karmic balance. That said, I'm not gonna deny the pleasure I've had listening to Nico's voice for years, even though said pleasure is tinted now. Because that would make me a hypocrite. Few artists can sing out of tune, and in such an idiosyncratic way, while actually *adding* to the songs, and not ruining them. People complaining about her performances in this section should learn that good art doesn't necessarily mean perfection. Frailty and flaws can actually provide a lot of precious emotions to a certain subset of listeners. And dismissing that mere fact as "pretentious snobbery" is quite a paradoxical stance. Snobbery usually pays attention to what's perfect and pristine. And *Chelsea Girl* can't be judged by the usual standards anyway. That's where its peculiar quaint charms lie for some. Also, I can't help but notice that the vast majority of reviewers who gave this album one star never finished this project anyway. A lot of them used quite hateful words to boot--and, karmic balance or not, those accusations had nothing to do with Nico's intermitent racism in the first place. So, in this case, why all the hate? Well, it seems to me that this app was probably a bit of an ordeal for those casual listeners. Because, yeah, the 1001 album app routinely takes you out of your comfort zone. And unfortunately, you have close-minded individuals everywhere, both in the so-called "plebe" and in the elite. That's life. If you keep the debate in purely artistic terms, who are the close-minded, elitist reviewers, really? To be perfectly fair, and if it amounts to be accused of being an "elitist' whatever album by Nico you choose for such a list, I would rather have the 1001 albums book choosing *The Marble Index* and *Desertshore* instead of *Chelsea Girl* while I'm at it. Obviously, that would test the limits of those close-minded listeners even further--those two LPs are such *striking* records, far more personal than *Chelsea Girl*, but also more *prophetic*. Like, Nico was the *OG* in those two seminal LPs, the "Original Goth". A missing link between the first "medieval" meaning of the word and its post-punk reenactment a decade later. And this makes her one-of-a-kind as well, as "difficult" as her persona was. To be clear, I'm not saying that you should "separate the person from the artist" here. You just can't. It's just that sometimes, there's a grey area, especially with relevant performers with a history of mental disorders, and especially when those performers passed away some time ago. I can't listen to Kanye West these days, for instance, it's too much, and probably too soon after the unforgivable horrific words he has repeatedly uttered in public for too long now. But denying the man's impact on popular music in the last twenty years would be nonsensical. Hell, NO, I'm not condoning the dreadful things Ye said, even under the pretext of his supposed mental imbalance. But I'm also stating the facts: if Kanye had never had the impact he has had before, far less people would have noticed the dumb, dangerous "concepts" that spurt forth from his foamy mouth later on. Which means that the man's past artistic accomplishments are part of the sad equation, whether you like it or not. Nico's impact on popular culture as a creator and a perfomer was far more limited than Kanye, in comparison. But it's there. It's undeniable for people with some knowledge of 20th century music history--so-called "elitism" be damned. You can't "unknow" what you know. As a consequence, I"m still giving 5 stars for what this album is, that is to say an incredibly original recording, either for the times it was released or for now--and one that ties in with later important developments for both the artist and for "modern" music in general. That being said, it's highly probable that I won't include *Chelsea Girls* in my own list of "essential albums", in spite of that 5-star grading (a very rare exception to the way I use that rating to select my albums). My grade just represents my personal assessments of this record's merits. It won't change its low "global score" a bit anyway. But more importantly, it's important to undertand that I don't want to force my personal assessment on individuals shocked by some of the things found online about Nico. I respect such individuals' sensibility too much for that. And of course, I'm not gonna die on a hill that no one should ever fight for. Ever. Even if Nico's problematic words and acts were not "public", it seems that most witnesses are clear about what they heard or saw. And music, mental heath issues and possible traumatic experiences aside, those reported events make Christa Pāffgen look like quite a despicable figure. Number of albums left to review: 400 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 144 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 186

What, Kings Of Leon AGAIN? Apparently, this LP is not even included in the latest editions of the 1001 album book. Which speaks volumes all by itself. This one is supposedly the album you must listen to if you prefer a more "authentic" Kings Of Leon, at least compared to their later silly arena-rock era. I'm far from being convinced, though. Apart from the lead singer's peculiar voice (more on that later), there's nothing that's really original or memorable in this record (except from one track--more on that later as well). Some people like to rant about mid-naughts British "landfill indie", and I agree with them that a lot of those rock acts heavily promoted in Britain at that time were underwhelming. Yet few people are talking about US "landfill retro-rock" around the same years. Even if that thing existed as well. About Caleb Followill's singing, it sure is an acquired taste, yet I have to admit it doesn't irk or grate my ears the way it does for many other reviewers in here. At least his strange drawl and mannerisms give a bit of character to what are otherwise quite bland compositions, without much in terms of harmonic and melodic inventiveness. The energy in this record is decent, but the musical dynamics, either for individual songs or the overall tracklisting, are somewhat botched. And some tracks even seem poorly mixed to my admittedly subjective ears. Maybe it's because it was quite an impossible task for a mixer to know what to do with that peculiar voice. Sometimes a technical flaw can turn into an artistic asset. But things can happen the other way around, unfortunately. One track stands out, however. It's "Milk", a moody cut with a very original song structure, instrumentation and vocal performance. If only more leftfield tracks like that had been interspersed with the bland riffs and jams plaguing the rest of this record, maybe you would have an LP worth your time. Interesting tidbit: when Lana Del Rey explained in an interview why she quoted Kings Of Leon's name in her own "White Dress", she mentioned that song and how it was related to her memories of the first small apartment she lived in during herearly adult years. If you listen closely to the two tracks, you can even see how "Milk" actually inspired the chord progression and particularly extravagant vocal parts of "White Dress". Another reason to find this tune endearing. And a way to state that I only have benevolent feelings for early fans of the band--it's just that two decades after the release of this record, I honestly can't see the appeal it can have for new listeners these days. You had to be there in those "landfill retro-rock" years, I guess. Two stars instead of one, then, mostly because of "Milk" and the missed opportunity for a greater album Kings Of Leon had at the time. Which translates to a 7/10 grade for purposes that are more genral than the ones you need to select "essential" albums. Next please. Number of albums left to review: 399 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 187

To paraphrase the best review written about this album on this app: ATTENTION K-MART SHOPPERS: SPECIAL PROMOTION ON DETERGENTS IN AISLE 4. BUY 2 GET 1 FREE! Gosh, I can see those horrid eighties haircuts just listening to the many sophistipop songs plaguing this album. I think the radio-friendly "highlights" of this record are the worst for me. All those "Come To My Aid", "Look At Me Now", along with that overplayed signature song "Holding Back The Years". Those tracks are more than decently produced, but the results still sound terribly hackneyed, with overkill-mode synth licks, bland funk guitar riffs, and syrupy, smoochie singing from Hucknall--each of these tasteless elements relentlessly screaming "eighties square" at my poor ears. Speaking of singles from this album, the rapped chorus of "Jericho" is also a cheesefest of unprecedented magnitude. That's a damn shame, because the vocal performance at the end of this track was inventive, layered and technically impressive. But when that finale surged, it was already too late. My cheesometer was already too high. Just as it was high from the very first seconds of "No Direction", an aptly-named song that goes nowhere as it rehashes all the clichés available in the "blue-eyed soul book". The thing is, as terrible as some of this music is for me, I was *also* often pleasantly surprised by the supposed "deep cuts' of *Picture Book*. And I have to say that I can still appreciate the various styles Simply Red went through, without making any jump between those different styles too jarring overall. This suggests that a lot of thought has been put into the way this record should flow from one track to the next at least. I usually like this sort of dynamics in LPs. And even if most of the music on this one is not for me, I can still appreciate the effort. One of those redeemable deep cuts is the jazz lounge tune "Sad Old Red", quite a predictable and not overly original track, but at least a welcome change of pace after the stinky opener that "Come To My Aid" is. On a sidenote, I can also respect Mick Hucknall's concern for socially relevant topics. His heart is in the right place, and coupling those lyrics with those sophistipop shenanigans is, against all odds, surprisingly effective. Yet it's only a couple of songs after "Sad Old Red" that Simply Red *almost* becomes great. First, there's that cover of Talking Heads' "Heaven"--so different from the original version, with its Stax and Motown overtones, that I didn't immediately recognize it. Nice touch, I'd say. I still liked that track even when I didn't recognize which song it was: it sounded like a far older standard, and so the idea Hucknall and bandmates had with this one makes sense, I guess. Speaking of Talking Heads, "Open The Red Box" is the sort of rigid blues rock / hard funk track could have been written by David Byrne and co at a later stage of their band's career. Those sudden interruptions of the rhythm section bring a tension unfortunately lacking elsewhere on this LP. Which is another nice touch. Finally, the title track is a very subtle and deeply atmospheric closer that was well worth my time, thanks to its ambient synths and proto-trip-hop sonic landscapes. Wish there had been more leftfield compositions like that in this album, even with an eighties slant. So all in all, not as downright terrible as I thought it would be, at least *from time to time*. I reckon this app is the most useful when it takes you out of your comfort zone and counters your prejudiced opinions about such and such act. So even if I won't include Simply Red in my own selection, now I can honestly say I gave them a fair try, and that I have nothing but benevolent feelings for old fans of this band. It's not because they have very different tastes from mine that I cannot picture why this record would catch their attention. 2 stars for the purposes of this subjective list of "essential albums", which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general and "objective" purposes (5 + 2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 398 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 188 (including this one)

This is what a mix between early naughts retro-rock, Stooges Funhouse-era proto-punk, and nineties post-hardcore should probably sound like. Not that a lot of people really aked for such a mix to exist. Not inherently bad, with quite a few intense moments performance-wise, yet a bit lackluster in terms of hooks and truly memorable moments. Not everyone can have the scenic presence and/or the catchy vocal lines of a Iggy Pop or a Cedric Bixler-Zavala. 2/5 for the purposes of this list of essential albums, translating to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 2). Number of albums left to review: 398 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 189 (including this one)

Never understood the appeal of this one for some listeners, even among hardcore New Order fans (seems to me previous LP "Brotherhood" aged far better, in retrospect). It seemed logical for the band to embrace the club sounds of the late eighties, sure. Unfortunately, the results are underwhelming to say the least. Two sorts of tracks occur in *Technique*. First there are cheesy discotheque tracks displaying far too many dumb dance rhythms, noodling and repeating themselves with no clear goal in mind. And then there are the more "post-punk" songs, yet they have little or none of the depth that could redeem the self-indulgence of the other so-called "experimental" electronic tracks. This "depth" I'm talking about is the sort of depth New Order had used to great effects for *Power, Corruption And Lies* and parts of *Low Life*, and which allowed them to create genuine moments of grace. And if remnants of this previous creative spark can be found in "Love Less", "Round & Round", and "Guily Partner", they are still conspicuously absent fron the rest, sadly. All that is left is a shallow displaying of sounds and melodies that had either been conveyed better in other New Order Lps, or that are clearly sounding quite ridiculous today, as "hip" and "modern" as those sounds seemed to be at the time. To put it in a nutshell, *Technique* reminds me of the soundtrack of a dumb TV cop show from the eighties, when the police come to a dive bar (the post-punk cuts) or a night club (the dance cuts) to interrogate a suspect. It's filled with clichés and stereotypical situations. And after the umpteenth rerun of the show, such a scene becomes tiring to say the least. 1/5 fo the purposes of this app, translating to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5+1). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 397 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 190 (including this one)

Can people appreciate the hackneyed music and stupid lyrics of this band *unironically*? Can they? Really??? A 3.28 global grade suggests a lot of them can. Unless it's a joke that went on for too long. The "contributor" to this app, who tried to mock "hipsters" through their review of this album, seems to be in on that joke, for instance. Maybe you've seen that review towards the top of this section? What's your take on it? Are you so easily categorized as that reviewer thinks all of us are? For one, I don't think I am. The thing is, you don't need to be a hipster to dislike the lame so-called "rock music" that big labels tried to shove down everyone's throat during the eighties, thanks to MTV and heavy radio rotations. At the exact same time, you had truly *great* bands in the underground trying to survive, goddamnit. Calling fans of those underground acts mere "hipsters", especially when it comes to that dreadful decade, is missing the point about who had the real economic power in the music industry at the time. And to put it bluntly, it was not the good guys who had such power--granted that you can find "good guys" in the music industry anyhow, of course. :D The tables have since been turned, starting from the nineties: the underground acts became prophetic and commercially viable, and hairmetal died a quick painless death, quite fortunately. Once again, one didn't need to be a "hipster" to draw a heavy sigh of relief back then. That's where--all "subjective" feelings about Bon Jovi aside--this reviewer I've mentioned earlier got it wrong: being unable to appreciate hairmetal unironically has nothing to do with being an elitist (otherwise I wouldn't have appreciated the "alternative" nineties as much as I did--after all, most of those indie bands exploding at the time sold a lot of units, didn't they?). No, all empty binary posturing aside, it's only that Bon Jovi's music had a very clear peremption date, as that *other* reviewer aptly puts it elsewhere. Many acts with clichéd reflexes such as this one--hailing from *any* decade--usually don't make it to such a list. And it's because they also had those peremption dates written on their foreheads. And this in capital letters. I can't see why Bon Jovi shouldn't be considered as one of them, their one-time commercial success be damned! I've given *Slippery When Wet* a fair try, just as I do for every album in here. I have to say, "Livin' On A Prayer" is probably not the most popular song by Bon Jovi *for nothing*: it's got an infectious chorus, propelling guitar parts and arrangements in the verses, and an overall energy that is contagious and fun. I readily admit that this single is good, and that Bon Jovi had a great calling card in their hands with this one. Yet *one* effective single doesn't necessarily mean the album it's from is good or even listenable. About the other few "highlights" from this LP: even if Sergio Leone, John Ford, John Wayne and Clint Eastwood had been locked in a room for hours, chances are that they wouldn't have been able to create a song with more laugh-out-loud clichés about the wild west than the ones found in "Wanted Dead Or Alive". Speaking of the strange "highlights" in this LP, "I'd Die For You" is also an interesting cut. It's got a nice intro section, as some other tracks have in the album (see the Bach-inspired organ at the start of the album"s opener). Yet in spite of the Bruce Springsteen influence, the main melody of "I'd Die For You" is a little flat. It seems that, contrary to "Livin' On A Prayer", the composition suffers from a lack of contrast between the verses and the choruses. Too bad, I almost thought I could file that tune under the "quite good" tag. Those two songs are somewhat bearable, at least. Especially compared to the other downright *horrible* tracks plaguing this record from start to finish. By the way, it's quite a feat that those horrible tracks are both famous singles ("You Give Love A Bad Name") and deep, deep cuts that should have stayed buried deep if I had had my say about it (that terrible, terrible "Social Disease", for example--I wish I could erase all memories I have about that dreadful thing RIGHT NOW!). To put it in a nutshell, it's all very dumb. Dumb hairmetal guitar riffing, dumb hairmetal guitar solos, dumb synths, dumb vocals... Dumb, dumb, dumb. And don't get me started on the lyrics. The meter of those lines is often awful, but it's not even the worst: to wax poetical about such things in the most appropriate fashion, the contents of those lyrics... suck balls. Pardon my French, here. You can't change a leopard's spots, I guess. ;) I needed just one example of those terrible, terrible lyrics for this review--which I'm writing as I'm listening to the album again. And it seems that closer "Wild In the Streets" has just provided that perfect example for me. Funny how you don't need to look for long to find bad lyrics in this LP, since they are everywhere: "Joey comes from a sacred part of town / Where sometimes you talk so tough that your feet don't touch the ground". What the HECK is that even supposed to mean??? And it's not even the worst example of how bad most of those lyrics are, I can guarantee that. I've spent two hours of my life listening to this album and writing a review about it. That's two hours from my life that are never gonna come back. Maybe that's the true meaning of the "Slippery When Wet" title. Once you've tread on such mediocre grounds, you're bound to slip on them as you desperately try to find redeeming features that could save the album, to no avail. Sooner or later, you end up falling, and find out that it was all a waste of time. Hope I didn't waste yours with this lengthy review. Thank you for your attention, and have a good day. Number of albums left to review: 396 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 191 (including this one)

I'm as much a fan of Bowie as everyone else, yet I feel Dimery's list missed albums in his discography that are far more striking than this one. *The Man Who Sold The World* immediately comes to mind here, but I'm sure there's a couple of other LPs missing in the 1001 Albums book--even if the "classic" ones, such as *Ziggy Stardust*, *Low* or *blackstar*, are obviously there. About this peniltumate album, it's a very nice throwback to a lot of different phases of Bowie's legendary career. It's just that *truly* memorable moments in it are scant. Besides, the real genius of Bowie never resided in him looking back, but in him looking towards the future so as to craft genuinely groundbreaking art. And this is exactly what he did with *blackstar*, right after this one. The fact that David left us a few days after the release of that incredible record--so leftfield and uncompromising, and yet so moving at the same time--is the ultimate piece of evidence he will never be forgotten. But I guess that's a story for another time, kiddies. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3). Number of albums left to review: 395 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 192 (including this one)

Per Wikipedia: "Arise is considered Sepultura's finest hour among longtime fans." Guess I'm not one of those hardcore fans, then, even though I love *Roots*. There are music genres whose true impact can mostly be measured through albums that manage to go beyond their target audience. In doing so, those albums do not only popularize said genres for the general public, they also inject outside energy stemming from other styles into an act's repertoire, thus widening that act's scope and sound palette. In the metal overall "umbrella" genre, such albums are Sepultura's *Roots*, Metallica's black album, System Of A Down's eponymous debut and/or *Toxicity*, Gojira's *From Mars To Sirius* or Mastodon's *Leviathan*. Even Van Halen's debut can count. Unfortunately *Arise* is not in that league. In retrospect, it's only a rough draft or an early sketch of the increasingly greater LPs Sepultura would release after this one. Namely *Chaos AD* and *Roots*. To be a little more specific, the reasons *Arise* is not really an "essential" album--at least for the whole metal genre--are manifold. There's some effective guitar riffing in this record, yet the latter is still a by-the-number crossover effort between trash and death metal. The outside influences that would make Sepultura great after this LP (latin rhythms and "industrial" sonic landscapes) are not yet fully digested here, since they're mostly present through those short dark ambient interludes between the cuts. Don't get me wrong, those interludes are interesting for sure. Yet they're still the equivalent of passing footnotes compared to the main "text" of this album. All of this has already been covered by many other reviewers in this section, so I'm not gonna dwell on those potential shortcomings. Yet there's one complaint about *Arise* I haven't read in the reviews when I browsed though them: indeed, no one seemed to take issue with Max Cavalera's vocals, which surprised me quite a lot (not counting the reviewers acknowledging they're allergic to trash or death metal anyway--they can't understand those sorts of vocals *at all*, and readily say so). Honestly, and as open-minded as I can try to be, for me Cavalera's short growls sound like constipated out-of-breath rants in *Arise*, at least compared to the sheer force and brute energy his voice would then acquire in Sepultura's subsequent albums. What we have here sounds too much like trash-metal 101-run-of-the-mill grunts instead, often awkwardly uttered and placed compared to the rhythm section (maybe a sign that Cavalera had not yet mastered English accentuation back then). Underwhelming to say the least. And since neither the intended idea for the vocal lines nor the lyrics are very sophisticated, the overall effect is quite tiring as far as those grunts are concerned. Not that I necessarily expect "sophistication" from the different subgenres Sepultura is tackling with... But if your performance doesn't sell the whole deal vocally speaking, there's not much left to get excited about with such overall lackluster results. So-called "hardcore fans" can say I'm splitting hair here, or that I "can't understand metal" as well, I don't care. I'm pretty sure that most of them are still very aware that *Chaos AD* and *Roots* are "objectively" better records than *Arise* anyway. Heck, a lot of those fans using this app already say so in their reviews, don't they? 2/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 394 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 271 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193 (including this one)

It's been a long time since this app has turned me, head over heels, into a fan of an artist I had barely heard of before. And it had to happen with Shuggie Otis. I only knew that Shuggie was the son of impresario, songwriter and musician Johnny Otis, of "Hound Dog" fame, but I didn't expect to immediately fall in love with this very, very special album. "Inspiration Information" is indeed a one-of-a-kind mix between progressive soul, enticing jazz dirges, psychedelic flourishes and proto-acid jazz instrumentals with cheap electronic rhythm patterns, all of this in 1974! "Aht Uh Mi Hed" is a ballad for the ages, which sees Shuggie using the hypnotic early drum machines once used in *There's A Riot Going On* so as to here create something smoother and far more delicate than what Sly Stone had created on his side. Those strings in the bridge section sent shudders down my spine right away. It's a shame this gem is not as well-known as it should be. The second side mostly comprising instrumental cuts is quite hypnotic as well. I would even dare to say that through this second side, Otis crafted the sort of timeless experimental split album that Bowie released not so long after. Under that light, *Inspiration Information* would be like a soul/funk version of *Low* or *"Heroes"* somehow--it's just that here the template is African American music instead of Glam Rock/Krautrock. At 30 minutes, this album is very short, but if you buy the 2001 reissue, you have four extra tracks from Otis' previous LP *Freedom Flight*, and they are gems as well--especially the 12-minute jazz odyssey that its title track was. But even without those four extra tracks, chances are that *Inspiration Information* is well worth your time if you're at least a little interested in progressive soul. Adding this great, great album to my list of essential keepers. And buying it right away. Number of albums left to review: 393 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 272 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

Sonic Youth's mix of no-wave, post-punk, noise-rock and bubblegum pop was one of the best things that has ever come out of the otherwise tasteless and overproduced music released during the eighties (generally speaking). And Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo's guitar work melding harsh dissonance with sudden transcendent melodic surges has been influential for decades to come. Contrary to what deniers would have you believe, Moore and Ranaldo's off-kilter tuning and idiosyncratic interplay never stemmed from an art-for-art-sake empty posturing. It was aimed at creating the best songs they could be written in the overall genre they had elected to play. This is probably why Sonic Youth left such an immense imprint, and how they popularized a vocabulary that is still vastly used throughout many strands of "rock music" played today. You can't beat that sort of legacy--itself drawing on older seminal NYC acts such as The Velvet Underground, The New York Dolls, Richard Hell And The Voivoids or Television. Anyone refusing to give Sonic Youth this status doesn't know their music history, period. That doesn't necessarily mean you should enjoy their music at all cost. But you got to take it into account, at least. *Goo* was released after their breakthrough album *Daydream Nation* (not my absolute favorite record of theirs--that would be *Sister*--yet a seminal one in its own right). It was the LP that saw Sonic Youth jumping from the independent label SST to the major label Geffen (influencing none other than Nirvana to make the same jump from Sub Pop to Geffen). At first glance, it seems that this jump had softened some of the band's rough edges--with more hazy, almost shoegazy soundscapes resulting from that transition into the mainstream. Yet make no mistake: artistically speaking, the band had not "sold out". They had only refined their aesthetics here, just enough to make it palatable for a new generation of kids hungry for "alternative" adventures, but never losing the plot they had started writing ten years before. Highlights abound in *Goo*: "Dirty Boots" and "Tunic" are enticing motorik cuts giving a great start to the album, for instance--drummer Steve Shelley's drive is infectious in both of them, Thurston Moore's vocal performance on the first is equally menacing and seductive, and Kim Gordon's singspeak on the second brings a hypnotic and iconic flavor to the proceedings. Those two songs are fuzzy and welcoming for sure, yet they fully retain the essence of the band Sonic Youth had become during their last three full-length releases: an art-rock powerhouse subverting pop songwriting to turn it into something greater. See also the effortless cool of "Kool Thing", the tongue-in-cheek frenzy of the title-track where Gordon winks at teenage girl-groups, the existential malaise of Ranaldo's "Disappearer"--ending in a frightening cyberpunk drone maelstrom--or the near-hardcore-punk mayhem of closer "Titanium Exposé". With *Goo*, Sonic Youth stepped in the second phase of their career, finally reaping what they sowed for so long before. The nineties were ready for them. But truth be told, it was only because they had paved the way for said nineties, being already part of a small bunch of acts (Dinosaur Jr., Pixies, Hüsker Dü, Mission Of Burma...) that had basically *created* that next decade all by themselves. That's how important this band was, and still is today for music at large. And this more than ten years after Moore and Gordon parted ways... By the way, here are the Sonic Youth albums I would select my own version of the "1001 Albums You Need To Listen To Before You Die", along with the grades I would give them if I had to establish a list of "essential" LPs: EVOL (1986): 4.6/5 rounded up to 5 Sister (1987): 5/5 Daydream Nation (1988): 4.6 rounded up to 5 Goo (1990): 4.5 rounded up to 5 Dirty (1992): 4.7 rounded up to 5 Washing Machine (1994): 4.8 rounded up to 5 After all, when in the original book, you got five or six albums by Elvis Costello (half of which were clearly underwhelming affairs), I can't see why I wouldn't please myself for my own ideal book. Costello is obviously a talented musician and songwriter. But no one in his right mind can say he anticipated the future through his music. Not even the writers of the original 1001 Albums book. Number of albums left to review: 392 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 273 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

Classic thrash metal album by the originators and masters of the genre. The assets of this one are too numerous to be all taken into account in a short review: off-kilter time signatures, dark subject matter for the lyrics, some "progressive" moments mixed with full-blown agressive sequences, a very dynamic tracklisting... James Hetfield's vocals are an acquired taste, yet they're here noticeably better than on Metallica's other classic LP *Ride The Lightening* (and they're not yet burdened with the man's hicupping vocal tics on subsequent releases). As for "Orion", it is the cream on the cake: an extraordinary ambient twofold instrumental sending this legendary thrasher band to the stratosphere and beyond. The stats of this app say I don't like metal. Nope, I've warmed up to it a lot in the last decade. It's just that I don't exactly see eye to eye with the metal selections in the 1001 Albums book. There are not enough recent bands, and too many cheesy examples of the genre during the eighties--either lame acts such as Judas Priest, or clearly underwhelming records by musicians that had otherwise mastered that style elsewhere, like Metallica's own *... And Justice For All*. But I guess that's a story for another time, kiddies... In the meantime, it's great that most people can agree about *Master of Puppets* at least. Number of albums left to review: 392 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 274 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

The contrast between the first two reviews currently topping this section is hilarious. Personally, I feel like eating an apple this morning, instead of digging my brain so as to find a clever line. Sure sign that I will give this album a 5/5 grade--truth be told, I've loved it for a long time now, even if I remember how dumfounded I was by it at first, when it came out in 2009. Not that the other review panning this record isn't smart in its own way. Yet I feel like using your intellect to judge *Merriweather Post Pavilion* will never do it justice anyway. This a communal, instinctive, trance-like party album. You need to let go to "get" its peculiar dynamics, hence why so many folks talk about drugs and being high in their reviews. Not so many records work like that in the 21st century. You usually need to return to the 60s and the 70s to find such brilliant experimental pop records, sonically daring, yet also paving the way for promising popular developments in the future. I know AC themselves would probably fret a little about the obvious references (they went down into rabbit holes far more obscure than the names I'm about to drop), but think Beach Boys, the 13th Floor Elevators or The Seeds with 21st century sounds (most specifically electronic when it comes to *Merriweather Post Pavilion*). There are too many highlights in this LP to mention them all. "In The Flowers" is a gem--a telluric opener whose rumbling rhythm evokes ancient deep forces of the earth ; "My Girls" is obviously one of the catchiest, most endearing tracks Animal Collective has ever written--one where it's easy to relate to the feelings of its narrator wishing to settle with his family at last ; the final vocal climax in "Also Frightened is a magical moment--it feels personal and heartfelt, and yet in keeping with the psychedelic mysteries gracing this LP from start to finish ; and "Brother Sport" is a riotous closer that leaves a lasting impression long after the album is over Funny coincidence: last week, I have interviewed Animal Collective's Deakins and Geologist for a music website I write for. Their latest album *Isn't It Now?* has just been released, by the way, and if you enjoyed *Merriweather Post Pavillion*, check it out, it's one of their best LPs in their twenty-year+ discography. We didn't really discuss this 2009 breakthrough record the 1001 Albums app has selected for me today--Deakins didn't play on it, he was on a sort of amicable hiatus with the band at the time (all the band members have done this at some point or another during AC's career, an open-door philosophy that is quite rare in the music business). So I didn't feel it was appropriate to mention said record during the interview. And we didn't have a lot of time on our hands for the interview anyway... That said, what I took away from this moment I shared with two of the band members is that they're never been the trendy hipsters some of the reviewers see in them when you browse through this section's reviews. Today's trends being very different from the band's adventurous knack for noise, hectic surges, and goofy moments, I'm not so surprised by the current low global score they received in this app. But I'm confident the wheel will turn again and that they'll find fans in the next generations. So yeah, past trends can't fully explain Animal Collective's appeal, whether back in 2009 or now. The topics and moods conveyed through each of their records indeed follow their progression from young adult artists to middle-aged ones--it all seems very sincere, and devoid of any calculated thoughts about hypes and fashionable sounds (Pitchfork's usual raves about them be damned). They're just doing their thing, and since their brains are wired in a very idiosyncratic manner, the results have always been off-kilter for a lot of casual listeners. Yet once you dig a little further, beyond all the unexpected layerings and weird arrangements, you can sense a real heart beating in most of the band's songs. It just takes a little time to "get" it somehow. But once you get it, this never gets old, believe me. Number of albums left to review: 393 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 275 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

A classic album by a classic band, and the musical equivalent of a Salvador Dali or a Giorgio De Chirico painting. Oneiric sonic landscapes, plus the anthemic folk ballad that the title-track is. The four guitar notes of "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" are of course iconic, and they lead to a world that's part-wonderful-dream, part-anxious-nightmare. I remember discovering this album in my uncle's record collection thirty years ago. I was not the same kid after that. At the time, I didn't understand that this album had a very precise--if slightly obfuscated--thematic / autobiographical intent. I had not heard of Syd Barrett yet, you see. But I could sense that a ghost was looming over those songs all the same. Little did I know that some ghosts could still roam this earth as officially 'alive' human beings, and that the one haunting this LP even had a name. Yet this didn't matter, because the music had already whispered said name into my ears. It sounded like gushes of wintery wind blowing over the plains of madness, both desolate and breathtaking in their surreal beauty. It sounded like watches melting on the branches of forlorn trees, or like a radio station picking up AM waves from the last radio station on Earth after the apocalypse--whether a personal or a global one. In other words, it sounded like Pink Floyd writing their prog-rock legend inside their listeners' mind, once again. 5/5, what else? Number of albums left to review: 392 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 276 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

Groovy, sensuous, topical and... cinematic of course. It's not often that a movie soundtrack is one of the most defining statements left by a singer-songwriter during his carreer. But it's the case for *Superfly*, by Curtis Mayfield. 4/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes (5+4) Number of albums left to review: 391 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 277 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 144 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

I was expecting a cheesefest, yet some of the songs on this LP are surprisingly good. Of course the insanely famous title track--a nostalgic epic about rock'n'roll pioneers--is deservedly iconic and catchy. Yet it's songs like "'Till Tomorrow", "Vincent" or "Sister Fatima" that just might make the album a worthy addition to this list. Even more impressive (and highly unexpected) is the very dark tone of the last two tracks: McLean's vocal performance is still a little hackneyed on "The Grave", sure... but gosh, what an effective and moving song about the horrors of war ; and that short cover of the biblical anthem "Babylon" is a mesmerizing mystical capper for this LP... Obviously, there's still a lot of trite or quaint moments in this record that could be taken quite derisively by this listener (all of them in the middle of the album). Yet I have to admit that the dynamic way McLean went from one mood to the next surprised me here. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 391 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 277 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 145 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

From the disonnant hook of the title track to the vibraphones-enhanced lush textures of the sensual "Pannonica", this album is indeed brilliant. Dimery's list missed many jazz masterpieces. I'm glad it didn't miss this one. Number of albums left to review: 390 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 278 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 145 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

What's going on?" There's a masterpiece going on. Of its time, sure, yet also ahead of it on so many counts. When you listen to this record, you can sense strands of future music genres--trip hop, neo soul, and even hip hop, at least through the lyrical "program" displayed in the album. And the ecological message aged particularly well. Unfortunately, I would even add.  The only (small) issue I could have with this album is that it's quite "one-note" (a flaw that many Marvin Gaye releases from the seventies have). But if you take it as a single topical "suite", instead of a batch of songs, it's easy to understand why Marvin was right to never veer off course.4.5/5, rounded up to a perfect 5 grade. Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me)

You can't really hate this. After all, the man is a legend, and "Blueberry Hill" alone should justify a slot for Fats in the Rock 'n' Roll Hall Of Fame. That said, as much of a rock pioneer Fats Domino was, there's nothing in the five other songs from this record available on Spotify that can really surprise you (maybe I should dig further to find the others, but honestly, I've got enough music on my plate right now). Good soundtrack for a night out at the diner, sure. But playing this in your living room? To be clear, I know you also need to put those songs into historical context. But even if I do so, I still doubt they can beat the fierce competition of the ones played by subsequent key artists who flourished in that early rock'n'roll genre. Little Richards was far more extravagant and riotous, paving the way to later stars such as James Brown and Prince ; Chuck Berry was a killer guitar player and amazing songwriter, and he left us with far more than *one* all-time classic ; and as white as a linen as he was, Elvis' performances and vocals made him the stuff of legend--see also the strings of staples he left us with, just as Chuck did. Speaking of "whities", I also find Buddy Holly's tunes catchier, more memorable, and more original in the long run. And if Bill Haley was not exactly the real deal, the production values on his hits was far more dynamic and effective. So... slot number 6 for Fats? You tell me. 🤷‍♂️ After all, number 6 is still ahead of Gene Vincent, Bo Diddley, Eddie Cochrane and Jerry Lee Lewis. Those songs are quite endearing, don't get me wrong. But as far as *albums* go, well, Fats wouldn't be the only legendary artist to shine more through single tracks than through LPs. 3/5, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 388 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 279 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

Anthemic powerhouse of an alternative rock album, in a year (1994) where there was *a lot* of competition. Don't have much to add to the other positive reviews in this section--some of them perfectly explaining why the record is great. Melody-wise, performance-wise, theme-wise, *Live Through This* is just pitch-perfect---from the vicious, viscuous chords of lively opener "Violet" to the equally telluric and sardonic closer "Rock Star". 5/5. A quick note here: it's just simply mindboggling when you read the reviews about this album on this app and you realize that a lot of reviewers admitted they didn't get interested in Hole before for some sort of prejudiced reason they had against Courtney Love--a divisive figure for sure, but not always for the good reasons. I'm glad most of those reviewers changed their mind (lots of 5 and 4 stars from them), but still--seems like the feminist topics this album deals with are still relevant in 2023. Sadly. Number of albums left to review: 387 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 280 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 193

Take out the eighties cheesefest with Santana that that the title track is, and then that rather hackeneyed version of "I'm In The Mood For Love" sung with Bonnie Raitt (never was a fan of the by-the-number nature of the song anyway), and what you have is a nice later album by a legendray blues artists, which sounds increasingly authentic the more you dig further. Can't personally select it as an "essential" album given the two misfires that open it, though. An essential album can't be introduced by stinkers, I'm afraid. 🤷‍♂️ 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purpose. (10 minus 2--the first two tracks always weigh heavier when you take into account a tracklising). Number of albums left to review: 386 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 280 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 194 (including this one)

I love many albums by The Divine Comedy. On my shelves, I have the debut *Liberation* and the sophomore LP *Promenade*--with its gorgeous minimalist string orchestrations inspired by Philip Glass and Michael Nyman. I also own their commercial breakthrough *Casanova*, the indie-rock, Radiohead-inspired *Regeneration*, and their real true masterpiece *Absent Friends*. My partner also owns *Bang Goes The Knighthood*, because she's much more of a fan than I am, even though she doesn't collect albums. Yet I would lie if I said I know that later very well... So I'd say I'm more than "open-minded" when it comes to Neil Hannon's *oeuvre*. Yet I don't have *A Short Album About Love*. I've always considered that "rock critics" overrated that one, expecially compared to later, more consistent albums. You can bet your boots that if Hannon had released that project *after* *Absent Friends*, most people would have forgotten it by now. It's one of those records where Hannon crosses the line and becomes quaint, boring and hackneyed, musically speaking. The blame doesn't lie in the concept and the wonderful production but in the overlong compositions, clearly lacking the lively dynamics of the best The Divine Comedy songs. Therefore, and as "short" as it is, that album feels like it goes on for an hour. So, nope, not this one. 2/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5 +2). Next, please... Number of albums left to review: 385 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 280 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 195 (including this one)

Very gay for sure. And very cheesy. Yet very memorable lyrics. And very witty one-liners. Also, very sophisticated chord progressions. Yet very unnecessary inclusion in the original list when there's already *actually* in it (and also, I think, *Behaviour*). Very bummed to say so. 3/5 for the purposes of this very list. Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more very general puuposes (5 + 3). Number of albums left to review: 384 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 280 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 196 (including this one)

I think I like Fairport Convention better. Far better, actually. What else do you want me to say? It's skillfully played and sounds decent at first, generally speaking. But when that humourless mimicry of a medieval/gregorian chant turned up by track four, I couldn't help rolling my eyes up to the back of my head. Same with the overaffected tones of that lead singer. Who can listen to that shit seriously in 2023??? At least with Fairport Convention / Sandy Denny, you had many moments filled with genuine, tangible emotions. Likewise, the much-maligned The Incredible String Band (much-maligned on this app, at least) could display off-kilter psychedelic moods going beyond the occasional mandatory late-sixties sitar--giving some of their tunes a potential fresh flavor today. In comparison, most of *Basket Of Light* sounds like aimless noodling and empty exercises in style. It's biteless, tasteless, and harmless. Utterly boring record. Nice glockenspiel arrangements, though. I wish I could erase everything else, and only keep those. :D So, just like that other reviewer's wife, I roll my eyes and turn away. I'm aware that Bert Jansch is supposed to be a legendary British folk artist, but I'll try my luck with him on a solo album, I guess... 1/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 383 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 280 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 197 (including this one)

Christina Aguilera's performance goes through two modes for the supposed "bangers" found in this release: loud, and EVEN LOUDER. And her half-assed attempts to go to any other mode on less showy cuts often fall flat. Apart from that, you're subjected to the usual mid-naughts r'n'b shenanigans that made Beyoncé famous. Hilarious how many songs on the first disc (more on the second list later) are trying to copy the formula of "Crazy In Love" without ever managing to leave a somewhat similar imprint in the listener's mind. The formulaic songwriting is not solely to blame here: even in her less artsy pre-*Beyoncé* and *Lemonade* era, Beyoncé could sometimes offer performances that were way more dynamic than the exhausting "screaming-your-lungs-out" routine Aguilera goes through here. Here you just want the singer to buckle up, so gratuitously over-the-top her vocals are. Black Eyed Peas are masters in subtlety and humility compared to her. Which speaks volumes. Unnecessary LOUD volumes, of course. Going back to Beyoncé, *Back To Basics* is also some sort of early precursor to *Renaissance* in the sense that it supposedly aims at paying homage to older music styles. *Supposedly* because, here, contrary to *Renaissance*, such suggested aim is only a promotional rant that was learned by heart by PR sycophants at the time of the album's release--and this so as to artificially give identity to a project that was cruelly lacking one. There's absolutely no real musical substance to such a claim apart from a few discreet, hackneyed arrangements that poorly aged on certain songs. Some interesting artists, like DJ Premier, come to collect a check once in a while (the man has to pay taxes, like most other people), and if such contributions are decent, they're never mind-blowing. Those few features never affect the 100% commercial intent enough anyway. This thing stinks of money badly spent from start to finish. The overall effect of Aguilera's music is therefore massively *generic* on the first disc. Pre-*Renaissance* equals "medieval" here (see what I did?). Everything sounds dated without having any chance of even acquiring some quaint charm decades later. *Who* remembers this album overblown to ridiculous proportions today, really??? Who really feels like they have to go out of their way to point out how important this record is for music history at large??? That's right, nobody--except maybe the 1001 Albums book! Back in 2006, *Back To Basics* had a clear peremption date written in capital letters on its forehead. Once an album cycle was over, it was on to another commercial one. It's simply, utterly risible. Did I mention that this album is also f*cking long? Yeah, I told you there's a second disc earlier, didn't I? And somehow, that second disc manages to be even worse. The supposed intent for this one is to hearken back to a 20s, 30s cabaret / jazz era, yet the result is only a horrid simulacrum--nothing showing true artistic flair in it. That so many people with obvious musical skills and technical abilities could be involved in this record and fail to see how its contents could be so grating and misguided is just mind-boggling. Unless, as I said, they came to collect a check. One last thing: the *title* of this album. It's just hilarious that people in Aguilera's entourage (producers, assistants, label executives, syncophants...) failed to suggest to her how stupid that title was when you consider the *bloated* thing that the final product is. That so many people seemed to have missed such a cruel irony can only trigger snarls and smirks from anyone serious enough about music and how it's supposed to uplift souls through anything other than hypocritical PR plans. *Back To Basics" is not even "basic". It's an overlong, punishing experience that manages to be both dumb AND pretentious. It's a rare combination, and maybe a reason to remember it in 2023. But only as a cautionary tale for pop music. It might be OK to have commercial intents at times. But please, oh please: when your avowed reach exceeds your grasp in such blatant manners, it's maybe time to shift gears and do something else. Or maybe even consider another career. All the money in the world can't buy taste and a little honesty with yourself. *Back To Basics* should mean that first, and everything else later. 1/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 4/10 grade for more general purposes (3 + 1). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 382 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 280 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 198 (including this one)

The first concept-album of Country and Western music, Wikipedia says. The soft, subtle slow-rock overtones of the title track and "The Wild Side Of Life" are a nice touch. Great work on the pedal steel guitar as well, with a pristine sound to it. And a nice and smooooooooth vocal performance by Ray Price. Apart from that, well, the picturesque lyrics laden with clichés about life in the sticks--heard a million times elsewhere--are tiring to say the least. And so are the honky tonk aesthetics, here polished to a fault. You need to infuse way more different influences to this mix to make it sound interesting today. Willie Nelson did it. Johnny Cash did it. Comparatively, Ray Price just followed a template that was well-established by 1963. So this record is decent, but there's no real thrill in it. Maybe as a soundtrack for a scene in a movie taking place in the Deep South or in the Rockies, some of those tunes could become endearing. Yet for now, my screen is as black as those nights Ray Price celebrates within this album, unfortunately. 2/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 381 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 280 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 199 (including this one)

"Music made by committee for hairdressing salons" says that other review. There's some truth to that hilarious negative take, I'm not gonna deny it. Yet if that's the case, that means that Beyoncé's salon is the most extraordinary hairdressing salon that has ever been built on the surface of this earth--with inviting nooks and crannies where all sorts of fun and kinky stuff may happen ; with lush decorations and night club lights that can elicit the most relaxing bliss in your mind or conversely thrill you enough to dance all night long ; with endearing memorabilia hung on the walls relating to Beyoncé's life course from Houston to New York; and with time-travelling portals transporting you to the most fascinating hip places, from NYC to Paris--all of this run by young nymphs and ephebes doing all they can to make you feel comfortable. This sort of salon is worth visiting, at least once. And if you can get a fresh haircut around your elated ears in the process, it's a win-win situation, clearly. More specifically, and all metaphors about hairdressing salons aside, this album is a playful exploration into groovy styles of all stripes : R'n'B, electronica, soul, hard funk, hip hop... The first three tracks create a perfect first act: opener "Pretty Hurts" displays effective soul-infused earworms from get-go, with quite interesting turns of phrase lambasting "perfection-at-all-cost" ; the Timbaland-produced "Haunted" is a nocturnal gem, with a simple melody that eventually turns into epic proportions, with many sonic details suggesting a cyberpunk, Bladerunner-like landscape found in the most expensive sci-fi flicks ; and "Drunk In Love", produced by the same Timbaland and Pharrell Williams, and propelled by a weird, Eastern-flavored sampled vocal hook, offers a shameless and immodest peep into Queen Bey and Jay-Z's intimacy--which could have turned out ridiculous if the music wasn't so sexy. After those three tracks, Mrs. Carter shifts gears several times, loses the thread at some other points (a flaw that's found in all of her last three blockbuster LPs--indeed written by committees and therefore a little haphazard as a result)... and yet she always gets back on her feet somehow. "Blow/Cherry"--with that striking one-liner about "turning cherries out"--foretells the post-disco endeavours of *Renaissance* ten years later or so. "Partition/Yoncé" is a two-part snapshot about lust and celebrity whose narcissitic impulses are redeemed by its dark yet pristine EDM flourishes--amazing how the digital basslines slap in this record, by the way : my hi-fi system is not high class, and yet those bass frequencies rumble like in almost no other record in my collection. As for "Jealous" and "XO", they are pop jewels that could have actually been expanded way beyond their short time count. In between those highlights, there's a couple of more meandering or demonstrative-for-their-own sake compositions (including one with a featuring by Drake where he somehow manages not sounding *too* ridiculous, lol). Yet fortunately, the last act is as strong as the first. *Flawless* is an trap-inspired, bombastic partytime dirge boasting about "perfection" with opera-like vocals in the background (maybe in a part-ironic fashion, just as in "Pretty Hurts"--given the snippet concluding it). "Superpower" is a subdued, "doo-wop 2.0" ballad that goes to interesting minimalistic places. And "Heaven" and "Blue" are other heartfelt cuts whose straightforward simplicity (foretelling the more intimate moods of Bey's next LP *Lemonade*) make them both memorable and endearing. Everything after "Blue" on Spotify are bonus tracks that are part of the record's "Platinum Edition" (mostly remixes and some extra featurings by Nicki Minaj and Kanye West). Nothing essential there, except from "Ring Off", a lively yet quite subtle number dedicated to Beyoncé's mother after the latter decided to part ways with her husband. So how should I grade this? 4/5? 4.5/5? The "writing-as-a-commitee" nature of this album often yields great results, but it's also probably the root cause of the few underwhelming moments in its middle section. Yet if you took away those underwhelming cuts, you'd still have a great album with a pretty satisfying length. My best guess is that the only problem Beyoncé has as an insanely rich artist curating and partly writing all these songs is that no one in her entourages dares question some of her choices, hence the "all-in-the-pot" nature of her LPs. But honestly, it's a very minor flaw for anyone interested enough in modern African-American music. I'm gonna round up my 4.5/5 grade to a perfect 5, then. Number of albums left to review: 381 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 281 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 199

This one starts strong with "The Cutter" and a couple of nice cuts after that. Unfortunately, the rest of the album is hit-or-miss, with only "Heads Will Roll" and "Higher Hell" truly standing out. Nice violin work by Shankar on a lot of tracks, by the way. Yet this won't save some of those songs from utter oblivion, since too many of them are meandering for no apparent reason. Had *Porcupine* included tracks as strong as "Over The Wall", from *Heaven Up Here*, or "The Killing Moon", from *Ocean Rain*, it could have been a masterpiece. Alas, it doesn't have such highlights, even if it's probably Echo And The Bunnymen's *second* best LP overall. The thing is, this ranking is not enough to make the album "essential" in my book. Only *Ocean Rain* can reach that level for me. Speaking of *Ocean Rain*, the latter is also a topsy-turvy affair at times. Nonetheless, its second side is near-perfect, and there are enough gems on the first to make it the magnum opus it is. And I don't expect to warm up to *Porcupine* the way I've warmed up to that other album. Drawing from this subjective feeling, I'd even say that anything else in Echo And the Bunnymen's LP discography is probably only aimed at nostalgic fans now, Pitchfork's delirious retrospective raves about *Porcupine* be damned. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 for more general purposes. (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 380 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 281 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 146 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 200 (including this one)

I have always loved the twin hits "Sultan Of Swings" and "Down To The Waterline", but I have to admit I tried appreciating this whole debut album many times, and yet I still feel it a little lackluster overall. Of course, Knopfler's guitar playing is inspired and even technically impressive... yet I think too many tracks in this record are 'by-the-numbers' blues rock / pub rock cuts. There's none of the pop dynamism of *Brothers In Arms* or the ambient dirges of *Love Over Gold*. Make no mistake, this debut is still very decent--and as far as debuts go, it's even great at times--but I think subsequent Dire Straits records are far more imaginative. Guess they had to start somewhere to eventually get there. 3/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 379 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 281 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 147 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 200

Classic foundational release for hardcore punk, here in its DC area denomination. Any true punk fan should have this on their shelves, along with the 7' singles. Everything's available in the *Complete Discography* CD by the way. Buy this--or the vinyls--on Dischord, one of the last genuinely independent labels still running to this day, founded by Ian McKaye himself. Technically, *Out Of Step* is more like an EP, but I'm gonna give it five stars nonetheless. This is gonna make up for the outrageous absence of many key albums by Fugazi in Dimery's list, as foundational for post-hardcore / emo / "alternative" rock / "crossover" rock as this one was for hardcore. At least four of those Fugazi LPs should be added to *Repeater* in the 1001 albums book, namely *13 Songs*, *In On The Kill Taker*, *Red Medecine* and *The Argument*. For those who might not know: Fugazi was a band that Ian MacKaye, the frontman of Minor Threat, founded a few years after 1983 with Brendan Canty and Joe Lally, quickly joined by Rites Of Spring's Guy Piccioto to share vocal and guitar duties with MacKaye. Retrospective lists about the supposed greatest albums of all of time often fail to quote them, which is a damn shame. But those lists don't really matter. Anyone who knows a little about music history in the Western world is aware of the band's importance and how their work was influential to so many "rock" subcategories. Going back to *Out Of Step*, what's also thrilling about it is how Minor Threat developped the initial "basic" formula of their first recordings in it so as to infuse some subtle melodicism and a few more variations in their new songs. It's still very much hardcore punk, yet you can sense the direction a lot of bands from the Dischord roster would then follow as they picked up the ball from there (bands such as Dag Nasty, Embrace, Rites Of Spring and Fugazi themselves, eventually). I know I've already used the word "foundational" a couple of times in this review, lol, so I'm gonna say it differently: whole music genres branched out of this particular release, including some where listeners might fail to notice the connection at first. *Out Of Step* is THAT important. Number of albums left to review: 379 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 282 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 147 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 200

It's a historical recording that's worth listening to of course. Yet I can't help feeling that having *Folsom Prison* AND *San Quentin* in such a list is a little overkill, as much of a fan of Cash's booming voice as I am. And if you had to select only ONE of his "prison concerts", *Folsom* is the one to choose, obviously. I also sense that Johnny's natural swagger sometimes becomes a little "forced" for that particular prison gig (Am I the only listener to sense this? I'd be curious to know...). I understand that he was wary of that English TV crew shooting the performance--to the point that he feels the need to mention them during the proceedings (and also flip the bird at them--at least according to that famous picture!). Somehow, my feelers tell me that Cash was a little ill-at-ease that day--as if the whole thing was much more of a burden to him compared to his previous similar experience. Maybe some listeners appreciate those confrontational undertones... But as far as I'm concerned, I think I prefer his more elated mood for the Folsom gig. Then again, the presence of June Carter and the other guests is admittedly a huge plus that *Folsom* can't boast about. So I'm still in two minds over all this--at least when it comes to *San Quentin*'s mention in a list of essential albums. But maybe i'm just in a bad mood as well today, who knows? Waiting to see if this record grows on me in the future... 3/5 for the purposes of this list (at least for now). Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 379 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 282 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 148 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 200

Apart from track 4 (a dud) and 5 (a filler track), pretty interesting and even often elating foray into "global" sounds. A lot of people noticed Sinead O'Connor's featuring on the single "Visions Of You", but the real star of the show is Natacha Atlas, at least on the many cuts where she appears. Yet some of the tracks where she is not invited are still quite good as well. Is it material for " essential albums", tough? Well, the jury's still out on this one. You could argue that the penultimate track is almost ruined by that (fortunately short) bridge filled with horrid synth horns, also found on track 4. A way to point out how some of this music sounds dated now, even though other parts of it still aged surprisingly well. 1991 is also filled to the brim with far more striking LPs, as interesting as this Mercury Prize nomination is (wonder if an old member of the jury for the prize didn't work with Dimery for that book--heck maybe even Dimery himself is a member of that jury!). So wait and see... Number of albums left to review: 376 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 282 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 149 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 200

I have a sneaking suspicion that this app has already suggested this record to me before. I remember writing that I was surprised that Björk liked it so much because, as far as I was concerned, I rather disliked it. My understanding is that she found the free-flowing, meandering, over-the-top vocals "liberating", which sure makes sense in a way. But personally, a large part of those vocals still sound as if the singer was attempting a pitiful, painful imitation of David Bowie at a karaoke. Especially on the first side (at least the one of the UK version--more on that later). Maybe I can't access Björk's level of genius when it comes to listening to certain details. But if most listeners can't grasp those details either, why should we call this record "essential". OK, this might be a bad faith take, I readily admit it. I can sense Robery Wyatt's genius in *Rock Bottom*, contrary to most people in here. Funny how subjectivity always ruins your best attempts to be fair. The thing is, comparing The Associates to Sparks, This Heat, The Cure, or I don't know which other groundbreaking band at the time might be a bit of a stretch. "It's Better This Way" and "Party Fears Two" are *somewhat* listenable, with effective melodic earworms. "No" is an interesting mock-gothic dirge, yet it's awkwardly placed towards the start of this LP (a flaw that the US version tried to correct by switchig most of side one with side two). "Bab De La Bap" has daunting industrial undertones that make it still worthwhile to go through today. But the rest is mostly a cheesefest of gigantic proportions, starting with the horrid "Gloom Spoon", "Nude Spoons" and "Skipping". This is also where the comparison with Sparks doesn't hold water in my opinion. In their best moments the Mael brothers managed to transcend whatever "popular" genre they had elected to play and turn the potential cheese in it into much more perverse and exciting aesthetics. And into far better hooks as well. I believe the comparison stems from Billy Mackenzie's extravagant performance on cuts such as "Country Club". Once again, it makes sense on a a certain level. But I'd rather go back to the original inspiration here. Finally, "nothingsomethingparticular" is a cute instrumental closer, yet it's nothing but a footnote to the whole proceedings. Still feeling nonplussed by this album overall. Going back to what I said at the start of this review, I hope I'm wrong and it's the first time this app has suggested The Associates to me. I intend to *finish* this project, and if really I have to review the same album twice, I'd rather have one truly *essential* one. Next, please. Still giving 2/5 to this record (the recollection of the grade I originally gave to this LP). Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 375 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 282 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 149 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 201 (including this one)

I prefer *Scott 3* and *Scott 4*. Any other questions? I can move on, then. It's raining again, I don't have the right record to listen to, and I'm in a bad mood. So next, please. Essential albums list grade: 3/5 More general grade: 8/10 (5+3) Number of albums left to review: 374 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 282 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 149 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 202 (including this one)

There's a review in here that starts like this: "The genre is raggedy-ass beatnik blues rock, so progressive it’s being invented as it’s recorded. The only thing under full control is Dylan's voice. Outside that, the band careens around like a motorbike with a dodgy ticker, which is why everyone seems to think they’re playing lead. One second the drums are in charge, then the organ, then rhythm guitar, then someone hooks the harmonica up to the bike’s exhaust and gives it maximum revs. All while Dylan’s on stage with a stack of library books, ripping pages out at random and holding them up to a giant fan to send them flying over his audience at random. That's how we get Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot fighting on the captain’s tower of a sinking Titanic. Jack the Ripper sitting at the head of the chamber of commerce. God pow-wowing with Abraham. It’s the ultimate high school reunion. Held together by glue that’s one part mystery and two parts the most voracious appetite for language in the history of recorded music, everything here is an outlaw song..." Wow. What do you want me to add to that, seriously? Mr. Zimmerman sure inspires a lot of talented people. But it's only because he's insanely talented himself. About *Highway 61 Revisited*, more specifically, I've always felt that it is not the *best* album that Bob Dylan has ever released (Is it *Blonde On Blonde*? *Bringing It All Back Home?* *The Freewheeling Bob Dylan*?). But I know some fans say it is. Whereas my personal enjoyment of it would probably point to a 9.5/10 grade *only*, if you take my meaning. The 0.5 penalty comes from a lack of catchy musical hooks on the first side--ones that Dylan is so good at, normally (and returns to for side 2, fortunately). Sure, there's *Like A Rolling Stone*. But it's like Bob said; "OK, I've written a massive hook here. Now I can forget a little about that and focus on the lyrics." Lazy-ass genius. 🙃 Besides, if this record points to the sweeping, expansive experience that *Blonde On Blonde* will be right after, it's not *it* yet. Even if some individual songs are already goddamn sweeping in this particular tracklist, *of course*. At the end of the day, all of this is splitting hair, I know it. The influential nature of *Highway 61 Revisited*, along with the historical artefact that it is--as the first LP where Dylan dropped the folk idiom altogether (still present on one side of *Bringing It All Back Home*), makes it belong to this list 100%. And some of the cuts in here--from "Like A Rolling Stone" to "Ballad of A Thin Man", "Queen Jane Approximately" and "Desolation Row"--are so damn representative of who Dylan is as an artist, and also tell so much about mankind at large, that they should be sent to space to introduce the Earth to alien sentient species. Number of albums left to review: 373 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 283 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 149 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 202

Before I dug into Joni Mitchell's discography, I always felt a bit nonplussed by the intricacies of her songwriting and her acrobatic, emotive voice. I didn't "get" it. I read how people loved *Blue*, *Ladies Of The Canyon* or *Court And Spark* and I didn't fully understand. Then I listened to "The Jungle Line" and something clicked. I still remember where I was. I was at a winter holiday resort. Everything around me was dark and snowy. And yet it's as if a universe filled with colors and lush tones opened up for me. It's true what they say: Joni Mitchell writes songs the way she paints all those watercolors. It was not only the groundbreaking elements of that track--all those loops and samples, done during the seventies to boot!--that drew me into that universe. It was the sheer emotions that the song triggered in me. Since that day, I have loved *Blue*, *Ladies Of The Canyon* or *Court And Spark*. *The Hiss Of Summer Lawns* is the record that started Joni's Jazz period, but it's probably not the best album from that "Jazz age"--that would be *Hejira*, that I love as much as the records I've quoted up there. Yet it's still a wonderful adventure. 4/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 9/5 grade for more general purposes (5+4) Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

What's next now? Garth-f*cking-Brooks? All too often, C&W ends up being a self-indulgent genre, both musically and lyrically. And if you add bland eighties production values to it, the result becomes a cringe-worthy listening experience. Hard pass. I'll stick to Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson and not bother about the rest. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 371 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 284 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 149 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 203 (including this one)

The 1001 Albums book was incredibly and outrageously *unfair* to post-rock. No mention of Mogwai, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Do Make Say Think, or Labradford. And only one mention of a Sigur Rós album (and maybe Tortoise, I think?). At least, they got the early initiators of that whole umbrella genre included with Slint's *Spiderland*. Heavy sigh nonetheless. Mysterious yet also abrasive, off-kilter, dark and menacing, yet also seductive at times, *Spiderland* is a treasure trove you can return to so as to find gems you don't necessarily notice the other times around. You have to enjoy charcoal-like tones and moods that are both melancholic and unnerving to appreciate it. But if you do, it's basically a timeless record. Number of albums left to review: 370 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 285 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 149 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 203

I lived in England for a year, at the tail end of the nineties. I remember pubs, vinegar crisps, errands at Sainsburys, buses that were never on time, Channel 4, pupils wearing uniforms, tea breaks, lasses wearing VERY short skirts when it was damn chilly out there, pub quizz nights, pints, and even more pints... Good memories overall. And I remember how every young people interested in music was a fan of the Manic Street Preachers. Except that the album everyone was listening to was *This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours*, the one AFTER *Everything Must Go*. And even decades later it's still the one that Brits seem to return to the most, according to Spotify. So retrospectively, that earlier album feels very much like a first step towards the band's real pop hits, and not like the hits themselves. It is a transitory record after Richard Hawley's disappearance, and the beginning of MSP mark II. As such it feels very much like a debut LP, even if it's not. Not that *Everythin Must Go* is a bad album per se. It might even be better than the overlong "This Is My Truth Tell me Yours*, actually. A more energetic rock sound, lots of earworms, a distinctive taste for interesting melodies and chord progressions, clean, simple and yet dynamic production values that aged pretty well, and a nice studio performance overall. Just like many Manic Street Preachers albums, a couple of songs sound a little samey on side 2. But apart from that, it's quite great. Erring on the side of caution, I won't include *Everything Must Go* *right away* in my own selection, just in case it takes the place of an album that's even greater. But I hope there's room for it in the end. Because well, *everything* can't go in, I guess. Number of albums left to review: 369 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 285 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 150 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 203

What's moving in *Truth* is that, stylistically speaking, you can feel in it the first steps that would lead to Led Zeppelin, a band founded by another Yardbird alumni, Jimmy Page. You have the same sort of *moody* flourishes and evocative arrangements inserted into the blues-rock formula, transcending the latter and sending it to a whole other level. Oh, and Page wrote the wonderful "Beck's Bolero", a cut that has quite a misleading title--even if Jeff Beck's rich guitar playing in it has a "feel" that makes the track truly his, just like in every song on the record. To be perfectly honest, I could live without a couple of more meats-and-potatoes, perfunctory cuts in "Truth". But the many highlights easily make up for them. And those particular highlights explain why I prefer *Truth* to *Beck-Ola*. That said, you can bet your boots that both albums are "essential" anyway, even if you don't take into account the presence of Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood (a future Rolling Stone) in Jeff Beck' s band. 4/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 4). Number of albums left to review: 368 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 286 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 150 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 203

I enjoyed watching *24-Hour Party People* a lot. It was a film that was both hilarious and well-documented. But OK, once you had that good laugh at the movie version of the band, are you supposed to automatically become a fan of them? Some characters in the Sopranos make me laugh as well. Does that mean I should try to join the mafia? Let's just say that if I can appreciate the Happy Mondays "saga"--filled with drugs, stupid moves, and picturesque characters--that doesn't necessarily mean I'm a fan of their music. I even think that this band is probably one of the most overrated acts that has ever come out of Britain during the eighties. And I'm gonna tell you why now. I don't know if *Bummed* is their worst or "best" album, but frankly, why should I care? Everything supposedly "important" the Happy Mondays released is just a cheesefest sonically speaking anyway, not to mention a total bore songwriting-wise. Ecstasy-induced vocal meanderings over terribly linear tracks is not my idea of what a good song should sound like. And it's not my idea of a good time either, even if I'm in a quote-unquote "party mood". Worse, the nonsensical "arrangements" in those tracks make everything sound even *more* grating. And don't get me started on those horrid eighties gated drums... Now about the supposed critical status of this album, a little bit of translation for ya:  Writing for The Guardian, Alexis Petridis said "almost 20 years on, Bummed sounds extraordinary, but wildly abstruse". Petridis has good taste, generally speaking, but here he's being overly polite. What he really means by "extraordinary" is that the album doesn't make a shred of sense. And what he means by "abstruse" is just that : "abstruse". Priya Elan of NME felt the album "actually dated best" out of all of the band's releases, despite Hannett's "raw production show[ing] the Madchester sound in its infancy" Translation: *Bummed* is not as *downright horrible* as other HM albums but it's still horrid nonetheless. "Dating best" within a discography doesn't necessarily mean "dating WELL". All Music's Stephen Thomas Erlewine praised Hannett's production as "all smeared colors and harsh edges". Translation : it's a formless blob. He wrote that "decadence has rarely sounded as dangerous as it did in the hands of the Mondays". Er... Stephen, ever heard of a band called The Stooges? Or The Velvet Underground, maybe? It's probably a bit "niche" for you, i'll grant you that... Then Stephen describes the sound of the album as "stiff psychedelic funk". Is "stiff" your idea of a good time, Steve? And does such adjective go along well with the words "psychedelic" and "funk"? Later, Erlewine mentions  Ryder "spitting out rhymes", and then expanded on this, calling the album the "result of [a] copious intake of ecstasy". Okaaaay, then. Stephen's idea of a good time is to be bothered by a random drunk on X spitting on him at a dive bar. But to each their own, I guess. 🤷‍♂️ In other words, the critics know it's a pile of shit, but they sugarcoat it the best they can. In response, I can only show scorn at their obvious hypocrisy. 1 star for the purposes if this list, which translates to something around 3/10 or s/10 for more gneral purposes. (1+ whatever...). Next, *please*. Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (including this one - many others are more important to me).

Not an album in the classic sense of the word, *69 Love Songs* is more like a gigantic catalogue of exercices in style, filled with off-kilter left-turns, promising potentialities and incredible moments. It's also a *quote-unquote* "mixed bag". Yet it's fully intended that way, of course. Once you find your path into it, you'll realize that the overall "concept" behind this project actually brings a lot of charm to the whole endeavor, instead of weighing it down. Such tongue-in-cheek "scope" is paradoxically what saves the project from becoming a full-blown parody, as quaint as some of those "exercises in styles" are. A piece of advice, though: you must not go through this triple (?) record in one sitting, but rather explore it through shorter sessions. At first you'll single out the obvious standouts, and dismiss the rest as fillers. But then, a doubt will surge: is that random one-minute tune in a mock-gay disco style *actually* a filler? Or is it a hidden gem--one that you dismissed too early before? In a way, The Magnetic Fields are here flipping the bird at this very app, and also at the book the latter draws inspiration from. In the end, podiums and rankings and "good taste" don't really matter. Because music is a subjective art first and foremost. Which means that *any style* can yield to a potential gem of a song for your very subjective ears. It's the exact reason why Merritt and co. chose the subject of love for the project: because this subject is universal. From that starting point, they can translate said universal subject into 69 different subjective interpretations of it. 69 different ways to be humoured and bothered and thrilled and moved. And this sheer accumulation is not only "conceptually" dizzying. It's also emotionally effective. What's great about this record is its "excess", along with its treasure trove nature. Sometimes you find trinkets in it, sometimes you find jewels. And sometimes trinkets turn into jewels, depending on your current mood. it's rarely the other way around, fortunately. As a result, you can potentially spend hours rediscovering wonders as you listen to this record, again and again--wonders such as "All My Little Words", "Nothing Matters When We're Dancing", "Papa Was A Rodeo", "No One Will Ever Love You", " I Think I Need A New Heart", "My Only Friend", "Underwear", "Grand Canyon" or "The Death Of Ferdinand De Saussure'. Flipping the bird at the 1001 Albums book or not, I'm pretty sure that a lot of people using this app could be ready for such an adventure if only they could let go of their expectations about what an "album" should be and sound like. If you manage to do that, you may realize how nice it is to get lost in this maze, just as all of us are getting lost sorting out the whiff from the chaff through this app, day in, day out. All you need is time, which is not available for everyone, obviously--but then again, if you can find some time for this app, I think it's not a stretch to postulate that you can also find some for this very long album if you feel like it. It also doesn't hurt that Stephin Merritt is such a brilliant songwriter, generally speaking--with a keen ear for details, both lyrical and musical. In the hands of anyone else, this project would have been doomed from the get-go, crushed by its own weight. But the playful undertones and the understated yet lively nature of most of these songs save them from any suspicion of misplaced pretensions. And all of this fully stems from the bizarre character that Merritt is. *69 Love Songs* needed a leading figure who was extravagant, and yet very much "in control" as well. It needed someone who could be either serious or ironical depending on the song--who could go from a cynical tone to a naive one, or from having shallow intents to stances having a certain depth... And to pull it off, it needed a songwriter who had a set of skills that were as formidable as they were understated, once again. Merritt fits those shoes perfectly. Finally, *69 Love Songs* is not an album in the classic sense of the word for another reason: everyone could select one third of its tracklisting and create their own "perfect" subjective version of it--one that would have a "normal" length, instead of the overblown release that it is. Very ironically, no two subjectively "ideal" shorter versions of the project would look alike--even though you can bet your boots that its heart and centerpiece, the sarcastic yet also very touching ballad "The Book Of Love", would be in 99% of the versions thus created. *This*, also, is part of the project's "playful" DNA. One could even dare to say that the album is an "interactive" experience in the best sense of the word. And you don't even need an app or a computer to make it work. All you need is a record player. Under that light, maybe *69 Love Songs* shouldn't even be in such a list, come to think of it. Because it's not *really* an album. It's a recording aimed at suggesting what the *platonic ideal* of an album could be. An album about love, yes. But also an album about life as a whole itself. Number of albums left to review: 366 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 287 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 150 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 204

One thing's for sure, those synth/organ sounds have not aged very well!  Apart from that, the idea of adapting a classical masterpiece was great on paper, but the overall result is awkward at best. ELP are the caricature of a prog-rock act. All the clichés about this genre you can think of (very cheesy sound palettes, vituosisitic mania that has no real artistic point, hermetic lengthy interludes, hackneyed faux-jazz overtones, misplaced intellectual pretensions...), they fit right with it. I wonder if you would have had the same clichés about grindcore if Napalm Death had adapted Ravel's "Bolero", or the ones of Country and Western if Dolly Parton had adapted Bizet's "Carmen". I have a sneaking suspicion that from the vantage point of 2023, the results of those imaginary adaptations would still be more listenable than what ELP had attempted with today's record. But sadly, we'll never know. 1/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums, which translates to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 1). Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (including this one, many other albums are more important to me).

Worth checking out if only for that "Sweet Jane" cover. As for the rest, your mileage on unobtrusive shoegaze having country inflection will decide if you join the ranks of listeners ascribing a cult status to this record. If you're a fan of Mazzy Star, chances are that *will* join that cult! 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums. Which translates to a 8/5 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately (including this one, most probably) Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

Not sure that as a very early example of the hardcore punk genre, *G.I* exactly has the sheer power that recordings by Minor Threat, Bad Brains, Black Flag or Dead Kennedys had. Then again, Germ's only LP can still boast of few tracks that are mean, snarling, iconic and musically worthwhile--tracks such as "Land Of Treason", "Lexicon Devil", "We Must Bleed", "Media Blitz", "Dragon Lady", " The Slave" or "The Other Newest One"... Yet I'm afraid there's nothing in this album that has the level of *Out Of Step*, *Banned In D.C.*, *Damaged* or *Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables*. Performance-wise, I guess the weak spot is the basslines, often out of pace. And production-wise, the sound of the record is pretty "thin", as other listeners have noted before--not that those "technical' flaws are so important in punk albums anyway... More importantly, you can sense the phenomenal, dangerous, formidable presence Darby Crash had onstage throughout the album--a feat which is not so easy to pull off in a studio recording. That's where *G.I.* hits the mark for many fans of the genre, I guess. Wish I could have attended a gig by this act, probably the chaotic experience of a lifetime. Alas, I was only 2-years old in 1979, and living one ocean away. All I can do now is to put this "historical" recording of the punk genre in my waiting list and see if it grows on me... 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential album". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 363 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 287 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 152 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 205

So Oasis didn't event nineties britpop after all. It was this Scottish band, apparently. And they got inspiration from an... American band. Funny how things work, right? I first listened to Teenage fanclub a few years after this particular album came out. I found them good, but a little trite and poppy compared to a lot of the other indie bands I was listening to at the time. Now, decades later, I have to admit that my ears are far more finely attuned to this particular sound, if that makes any sense. *Star Sign* is a great song, for instance. Yet about this one song, and about the other ones in this album, most of them stellar, I gotta say that on the other side of the pond, a US band named The Posies would soon do even better in this Big Star-indebted stylistic realm--also helped by producer Don Fleming--and this, with half of the music-press hype surrounding Teenage Fanclub. Yeah, Big Star is the American band I was referring to at the start of this short review. In a way there's a line that goes from Big Star to Oasis, and this almost directly. Didn't see that coming myself. So, yeah, today's album is really great, even if it's not the absolute best in the genre. Of course, saying so could sound as if I was trying to demean or take something out of *Bandwagonesque*. But I'm not. All by itself, this record is pretty iconic, and I understand why it should be on this list today, enough said. But still, don't forget to check out The Posies as well (*Frosting On the Beater* and *Amazing Disgrace*). OK? 4,5/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 9,5/10 grade for more general purposes. I'm rounding up to a perfect 5/5 and 10/10, though. Number of albums left to review: 362 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 288 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 152 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 205

Overwhelmed with work today, and too exhausted to give *Immigrés* a proper listen. Browsing through those tracks that have quite a long time stamp, it feels like the album is somewhat different from the more "commercial" and "streamlined" output Youssou N'Dour had during the nineties. And it seems it has a more "authentic" feel, reminding me of Fela Kuti. I'm lacking refererence points to address this music correctly, so I won't say much more right now. But I have nothing but benevolent thoughts when it comes to what I've browsed through. *Immigrés* does "feel" like a nice entry point into a larger universe. Adding it to my "waiting list". Number of albums left to review: 361 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 288 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 153 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 205

Not the album that fans of Silver Jews remember the most according to Spotify, but also to most "critics". It's still the sort of endearing songwriting performed in a indie-rock/alt-country mode exemplified by *Starlite Walker* and *American Water*. But it's probably not enough to justify the inclusion in a list of "essential" albums. Rest in peace, David Berman.3/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3) Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (including this one, many others are more important - *Starlite Walker* and *American Water* for instance).

Big Star fully deserve their reputation as a key progenitor of power pop. The first four tracks of this debut alone justify the inclusion of the whole album in such a list, from Alex Chilton's ballads "Thirteen" and "El Goodo", heartfelt and evocative, to Chris Bell's edgier "Feel" and livelier "In The Streets" -- of *That 70's Show* fame.  So the songwriting is good, but one of the assets of this album, not praised enough in my sense, is its pristine, dynamic production, with a lot of sonic details that go over your head on first listens, but then shine on the next ones. John Fry (and Chris Bell) can be praised for that. The only (minor) issue I have with this record is that there are too many ballads on the second side. They're good, some of them are even excellent, but the succession of songs in a similar mode hurts the album's momentum. I would have taken one of those slower cuts out, and added one more straightforward rock number such as "When My Baby's Beside Me" to this second side. I guess I could even have taken out a point to this debut because of this, yet I didn't, because of the thematic cohesiveness of those songs. You really feel like this record is the soundtrack of a movie about teenagers living in "Smalltown, America" during the early seventies. That line about "Paint It Black" and how the father of the singer's girlfriend is always on his back cracks me up every time. Simple, at times almost *simplistic*, lyrics. Yet lyrics that are so effective in conveying the mood of a time and place. A dozen of albums released in 1973 were probably better than this one. Yet this debut was "#number 1" when it comes to how "evocative" a record can be.  4.5/5 for the purposes of this list of essential albums (rounded up to 5), which translates to a 9.5/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

Overwhelmed with work today, and late for my daily reviews. Anthologies and other "best of albums" suggest that the first two tracks of this early album by Femi Kuti are notable career highlights. They have pretty good afrobeat grooves, and give you a good inkling of what Fela's son was capable of at the time. For more details, I'll need to revisit later on. Wish I had had the time to do it right now. 3/5 for the purposes of this list ("neutral" grade because I couldn't listen to the whole album). Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

Found this recent review about *Harvest* on this app: "If you don't like this album then you don't like Neil Young. If you like Neil Young this is about as good as it gets. 5/5." Yep. Let me double down on that... I love *many* albums by the loner: "Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere", "After the Gold Rush", "Tonight's The Night", "Rust Never Sleeps", "Chrome Dreams", "Le Noise"... Some of Neil Young's fans will have you believe that only ONE of these records is his true masterpieces. Well, they don't say that about "Le Noise", but it's certainly my favorite *underrated* album by him--with *Trans* not so far behind, oddly enough... Everytime those fans say something like this, I kinda agree. Or I *want to agree*, in a way. Because *each one* of those records are moving or trippy or evocative or heartfelt or moody as f*ck. Each one is... one-of-a-kind. If you can appreciate the emotions in Neil's frail voice, if you can sense his genius as a songwriter and tunesmith, there are strong clues that will lead you to believe that ONE of those records is the loner's "magnum opus". Yet the secret is that *none of those albums* can be considered as his magnum opus, really. Because *Harvest* is the one. Yes, as far as sales and mainstream reputation go, it's Neil's most "succesful" release. This always rubs a lot of of the so-called "true" fans the wrong way. And this can even rub grumpy old Neil the wrong way sometimes. Which makes me smile, somehow... The "truth" (*my* truth?) is that *Harvest*'s tracklisting is just... perfect. It's not only the hits ("Old Man", "Heart of Gold" or "Alabama"...). It's also how each song segues into the next. It's how Jack Nietzsche's tense orchestral arrangements on a few tracks provides another dimension to Young's songwriting, and brings welcome dynamics to the whole shebang. It's how "Words" concludes the proceedings in such a heartwrenching fashion. And it's how *each one* of those tunes can leave an eternal imprint in your soul. Because this record will live on forever. And "forever" means long after Spotify, and people remembering who Joe Rogan was, are both gone, lol. So 5/5, what else? Number of albums left to review: 357 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 290 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 154 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 206

Blue Lines, like the mysterious haze that oozes from this seminal album. Like the waves of pleasures one can feel roaming this nocturnal, urban maze--soul, dub and hip hop all merging to create all those lush sound-system-inspired skylines. Listen to "Five Man Army", and you'll see those evocative nightly shapes in front of your very eyes. You might even smell the scent of burnt engines. Younger listeners may not understand how groundbreaking this record was at the time of its release--and how it still informs many genres today, far beyond the "trip hop" moniker that was ascribed to it at the time (more on that in the conclusion of this review). Truth be told, this sort of "fusion" had never been encountered before. Even if, in a way, said fusion hearkened back to the spirit that had for instance guided musicians of The Mahavishnu Orchestra, here sampled at least twice during the course of this LP, or the ones of Love, whose "Be Thankful (For What You've Got)" is wonderfully covered during the proceedings. Add the singular vocal performances of soul singer Sara Nelson and reggae legend Horace Andy, and what you have as a result is a jewel. From the ominous, obsessive "Safe From Harm" to the wide-eyed, almost naive "Hymn Of The Big Wheel"--from the heartbreak of "Unfinished Sympathy"'s tense strings to the sensual groove of "Daydreaming"--each and every track of this masterpiece is a gem. *Blue Lines* was not a simple debut, you see. It was already a crowning achievement. So it doesn't matter if the "groundbreaking elements" of this LP get lost in the mix today. There's still enough urban poetry in this album to make up for how supposedly "dated" it sounds in 2023. A couple of records later, for *Mezzanine*, 3D, Daddy G, and Mushroom would incorporate post-punk in their formula to further their ambitions and make everything sound more (in)tense. Yet what we get here is equally precious. It's a *smoother* version of the Massive Attack project, and this mix of juvenile seduction and more menacing undertones is an asset the collective would never *fully* profit from ever after. Some say that *Blue Lines* is one of the best debuts of all time, and they're damn right about that. Others say this record is the birth of trip hop, its whole starting point, and they're right as well. Yet this album is far more important that trip hop--which was just an ephemeral phase during the history of modern music, a transition within the great mix of the times. This album is a tone poem, first and foremost--and it's one of the most impressive tone poem ever put to tape. No other record will ever sound like it again, as influential as it was from 1991 onwards. Massive caught lightning in a bottle that year. "Inflammable" indeed. Number of albums left to review: 356 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 291 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 154 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 206

I once imagined a sci-fi saga about telepaths, it took place in the future, in the 24th century. I even wrote a novel telling the first events of the sweeping story I had in mind. And as I did so, I took notes to envision what the perfect soundtrack for that long yarn would sound like... I will probably never write the rest of my story, sadly. But if I had done so, "All I Need" would be the very last song heard in the saga. A perfect capper for a tale filled with troubled characters caught in the stir of history, longing for each other, and yet--in spite of their psychic powers--unable to communicate their true feelings to one another. At the very end, there's only the promise of an afterlife to give those characters some frail hope that they could start it all over again--and thus, finally merge their souls with the ones they truly loved during their short lives. I don't remember wanting to use another song from *In Rainbows" to illustrate my story. But in a way, each and every track of this perfect LP could match with my melancholic musings about alienation and unrequited love--whether expressed through my story idea or elsewhere, in other sorts of tales. *Videotape*, for instance, could provide precious inspiration for a scene about grief and nostalgia. When I saw Radiohead live, Thom Yorke gave a memorable performance from start to finish, but it's the memory of that particular song that stuck with me. A few words about how the song works might be useful to describe that fond memory. On the surface, *Videotape*'s rhythm pattern sounds simple, but it's actually incredibly complex (check out the You Tube videos about it). So I remember Thom sitting in front of his upright piano, starting the very first chords of the song, and then slamming the keys, mad with with sudden anger and frustration. The band stopped playing at once. Thom didn't have the right tempo in mind. Then, he collected his thoughts, started afresh, and finally gave a perfect rendition of the composition. I was in tears. I was not only in tears because this piece of music was great and it was the first time I had ever listened to it. It was during a tour that took place *before* *In Rainbow*'s release, you see, hence why I didn't know the song yet. I was also in tears because of the small fuck-up that started it. To me, it's the sort of event that perfectly encapsulates who Radiohead are. They're *not only* about ambition and grand epic gestures. They can also focus on human frailty, absurd little moments, all sorts of routine moments as experienced by us all in our modern lives. Radiohead's music, as groundbreaking or sweeping as it can be, is still in touch with our human condition--and all the conflicting emotions that go with it. Maybe I will write my story after all... Now I know that a scene about a piano player will be in it. He will make blunders as he plays the first chords of the song, and then start again, and then make everyone cry in the room. Thanks a bunch, Thom. Number of albums left to review: 355 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 292 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 154 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 206

*Ocean Rain* is a topsy-turvy affair at times. Nonetheless, its second side is near-perfect, and there are enough gems on the first side to make it the magnum opus it is for Echo And The Bunnymen. The centerpiece of the album alone, "The Killing Moon", makes it "essential". And even for less stellar tracks, a lot of the pristine, sophisticated arrangements bring a charm that the well-mannered secondary compositions didn't have as "barebones songs". Impressive work overall. 4/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential records", which translates to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes (5+4) Number of albums left to review: 354 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 293 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 154 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 206

Blue skies behind panes, A soul longing for relief In an empty hall. The first "ambient" masterpiece. No haiku ever uttered in any human language can do it full justice. Number of albums left to review: 353 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 294 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 154 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 206

The consensus was pretty clear when this album was released, and I believe it's the same decades after: *Felt Mountain* is a nice album overall, but it's not up to the league of the other trip hop luminaries of its era--luminaries such as Portishead or Massive Attack. True, parts of the record were breaking new grounds, foretelling important acts such as Beach House or Lana Del Rey. Yet it's a little too patchy in terms of memorable melodies, especially on the second side. "Human", with its serpentine string section, is a stellar track though. And I didn't need Kanye West's sample of it to remember it in 2023. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 352 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 294 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 155 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 206

Back in the day, I already knew "Girls" was probably one of the most stupid songs ever penned in the history of music. And it still is today, by all counts. Enough to make the album it's from "essential", in an ironic sort of way??? Well, dumb, tongue-in-cheek (?) fratboy humour notwithstanding, this record is a treat for the ears of anyone interested in hip hop history, both for its music and its wordplay--as "juvenile" as this worplay is sometimes. Or maybe *because* the lyrics are so juvenile somehow... Teenage angst and young adult lust can provide so much sheer energy to an artist, and this in any genre. You'd have to be an old cranky, cantakerous bore NOT to feel that while listening to the album. Of course, being a middle-aged dude in 2023, I also have to be cautious about the ways nostalgia can meddle with your better judgment. So, before listening to this record, I prepped myself to be harsh and uncompromising whenever I would feel like the Beastie Boys were plain ridiculous, just as they were for "Girls". Revisiting *Licensed To Ill*, I indeed expected it to feel so dated and hackneyed to be borderline unlistenable. But on the contrary, this debut still manages to sound fresh somehow, even decades after its release. Most of the little sonic details Rick Rubin provided for the samples and beats are endearing, and the hard rock-inspired hits are the stuff of legend, obviously. There's that iconic drum part sampled from Led Zeppelin in the very first seconds of the album. And the one-two punch of "Fight For Your Right To Party" followed by "No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn" right in the middle of the record is an unforgettable moment in the history of popular music. It's one that the charts of 1986 didn't miss, by the way. Not that the charts are always right... But for an up-and-coming style such as eighties hip hop, you have to take into account such watershed moments. Oh, there's one last elephant in the room we need to address here. Being three white jews originally playing in a Brooklyn hardcore-punk outfit, the Beastie Boys couldn't be *automatically* exempt from accusations of "cultural appropriation" when they used rap to hit those same charts. But their example is actually a great one to prove that exaggerated stances on such issues should be taken with a grain of salt. We're dealing with a grey area here, of course, but I'd say it's mostly light grey. a) MCA, Adrock and Mike D popularized hip hop for young white audiences at the time, and so helped countless black artists make a living afterwards (far more than Elvis's success helped black rockers sell records). b) On a purely "artistic" viewpoint, Rick Rubin and the Beasties did not only steal from African American culture, they also gave back their own ideas to it. "Slow And Low" is a groundbreaking cut, for instance--foretelling the many ways in which the bpms in rap instrumentals would slow down for many hits in said genre in the years to come. To put it in a nutshell, *Licensed To Ill* is not a "perfect" album by any means, yet it's still a cultural milestone. The Beastie Boys would actually release a true hip hop masterpiece with *Paul's Boutique* a few years later, plus two more albums set in a full-blown crossover mode that are for the ages as well (*Check Your Head* and *Ill Communications*). Even *Hello Nasty* is probably a superior effort than this debut. Yet without the latter, music history could have turned out radically different than the way it did. And that's enough to make *Licensed To Ill* an "essential" addition to this list. 4.5/5 for the purposes of said list (rounded up to 5). Which translates to a 9.5/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 353 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 295 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 155 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 206

Hey, I found this CD for two euros in a secondhand shop! The title track, "'Don't Tell Me" and that cover of Don McLean's 'American Pie" are famous Madonna songs, aren't they? Is the album "essential" though? Nope. When I brought that CD home, my partner looked at me as if I was a hoarder. And she LIKES Madonna, generally speaking. To put it in a nutshell, Louise Ciccone just hired trendy producers at the time (Mirwais, plus William Orbit, also used for *Ray Of Light*), recorded songs following the trends those producers were experts of, and just thought doing this was enough to make her relevant again. The problem is that for three or four memorable songs in the record, there are twice or three times as many deep cuts failing to leave an imprint on the listener. All style, not much substance. Besides, some of the "trends" inspiring the production of this album have not aged that well. "French Touch" can be nice, as dated as it is. Yet three or four earworms are not enough to transcend the whole shebang. Especially when a lot of synthetic arrangements are streamlined to a fault, and when the vocal performance often feels quite bland and impersonal. Madonna could infuse a lot of her personality within her eighties hits. Where had it gone in 2000? So I'll keep humming the singles, and forget about the rest. About Madonna's presence in list of "essential" albums such as this one, there's been indeed a couple of previous LPs by her where producers helped her make far more memorable songs overall--*including* the deep cuts. *Like A Prayer* is one of them. The more introspective *Ray Of Light* might be one of them as well. But everything else is secondary, in spite of the legendary singles. 2/5 for the purposes of said list. Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes, mostly thanks to the three famous songs in it. Number of albums left to review: 352 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 295 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 155 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 207 (including this one)

So extreme that it's strangely soothing at times. At a lower volume, Lightning Bolt remind me of trance-inducing traditional folklores--such as Balinese music for instance, oddly enough. There's the same sort of layering mixed with instinctual impulses, with everything driven by the power of sheer repetition, and how the latter contrasts with subtle variations. Of course, this album was first intended to be played LOUD. This band must be a hypnotic treat to watch live. Especially in a basement show. Some of the best gigs of my life were in dive bars and basements. You don't necessarily need to go to a festival or an arena to have a transcendent experience. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). To which I add an extra point just to piss off Bonnie Raitt and Adèle fans. I feel mean and confrontational today. Maybe because I ended up playing this album LOUD, ha ha. Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

On paper, I should like this album a lot. A groovy, moody, "authentic" hip hop effort at a time when the rest of the rap world got lost in bling and gangsta b*llshit. And I have nothing but respect for the musicians of the "Soulquarians" playing on this record (including The Roots' ?estlove). The thing is, some of the tracks don't click for me, I'm not sure why, especially on the first side (mostly "Dooin It" and the odd west-coast undertones in "The Light"--undertones that are quite surprising given where Common hails from and how he seems uncompromising about that elsewhere). And if it's nice to have an introductory cut paying homage to Fela, the effects on the voice there are just plain horrible, dated and useless. On the positive side of things, I still like a few moments from the first half of this LP, especially the intricate jazz layers of "Cold-Blooded", the "classic" feel of DJ Premier's boom bap contributions for "The 6th Sense" (not to mention Common's shout-out to Gil Scott-Heron's "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" at the very start), and I also enjoyed "The Questions", with Mos Def. Speaking of Mos Def, it seems to me that the latter's *Black On Both Sides* is the very example of an album in that particular subgenre that's musically stellar from start to finish--holding your attention or making bob your head without interruption. Even if it may sound unfair to some, I think we're still a notch under that quality level with "Like Water For Chocolate", as sophisticated as some of the arrangements are, and as interesting as Common's topical lyrics are as well (in keeping with the historical picture on its cover). And when the rapper indulges in a quick homophobic line during the course of "Dooin It", he totally loses me, that goes without saying. Fortunately, most of the "conscious" lyrics are beyond reproach elsewhere. On that note, "A Film Called (PIMP)", a hilarious battle between the rapper and MC Lyte, is worth your attention, thanks to lyrical contents that are hilarious in the way they mock the gangster world while saying something about the battle of the sexes AND music industry--the metaphors used by both rappers on that one are quite impressive. "Nag Champa" is rather good too, and "Thelonius" reminded me of important A Tribe Called Quest cuts (mostly thanks to Slum Village's contributions?). "Payback Is A Grandmother" has a superb instrumental hook at its very center. There's some Outkast psychedelic shenanigans going on in "Geto Heaven Part Two", and "A Song For Assata" is a moving tribute, as controversial as Tupac Shakur's godmother is. So the second side is superior to the first, clearly. This is what garnered an extra point from my initial assessment. Yet, let me repeat that: Mos Def's *Black On Both Sides* is the album from that specific era to go first to if you like that sort of "conscious" hip hop. And it better be in your list, Mr. Dimery. Now I'm looking forward to listening to Common's *Be*. That one's on the list, that's for sure. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 350 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 295 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 156 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 208

Not so long ago, I thought *The Soft Bulletin* was the "magnum opus" of the Flaming Lips. Something in that idea rubbed me the wrong way, though. I found the record a little too patchy sometimes. Plus, Wayne Coyne's vocals are *distinctively* off-key on that album. And this ways that didn't sit well with me (I sometimes have no problem with that "flaw" if it adds to the artistry--but in that case, it was an unnecessary... distraction) Then, I discovered *Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots*, which I had not listened to when it was released (evidence enough that I was not a real fan of the band). And I fell in love with this record in ways I could not have expected myself. Not only are the vocals *great* on this other album, but the songs are also instantly endearing and memorable. And by "songs", I mean *every one of them*--minus a couple of interludes that are never obnoxious and serve a "narrative" purpose.  About the latter, I've read somewhere that the real "story" behind the surrealistic and naive "scenes" within the album is the one of a woman battling cancer. I haven't overanalyzed the lyrics yet, so I'm not 100% sure this was indeed the main intent of The Flaming Lips to tell that story, but I do know that "Do You Realize" is probably one of the most touching and tender songs ever written about death (almost up to the league of Big Thief's "Change"). So I'm glad this record is on this list. And I readily and spontaneously give it a perfect grade here. Anything to help Yoshimi win against those damn robots! Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me).

Video game music says another review. I concur. Except that some video game music can be memorable at times, and this one isn't, generally speaking (except for a rare cut here and there, such as "Intensive Care", for example). Maybe this failure stems from the fact that there is no real film to go with this score (I hear there's some sort of script, but why should I care about it?). The problem is that the "cinematic" goals of such music often falls flat. I *see nothing* while listening to the wishy washy meanderings within that album--except from vague blurs related to film noir aesthetics. Er... Okay. I don't think "illustrative" music is a very exciting genre anyway. Especially when there's nothing tangible to illustrate. By the way, I really like Barry Adamson's contributions for Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds, or the music he's composed for *real* film scores. David Lynch's *Lost Highway* comes to mind here, even though it was just for a couple of tracks and most of the original score was written by Angelo Badalamenti... But come on, let's be honest for one frigging second! This particular project is just a footnote written in microscopic letters compared to 90% of the other records in this list (including some I actually don't like that much myself). Feeling generous and giving a 2/5 grade to this album, because it's not as if listening to it was some sort of torture either. In a list having more general purposes than this one, *Moss Side Story* could maybe reach a 7/10 grade (5+2). But for a list of "essential albums"...? Nope. Number of albums left to review: 348 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 296 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 156 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 209 (including this one)

I'm not even sure there will be enough room for *Every Picture Tells A Story* in my list. So, *more* room for this other LP out the year before? I highly doubt it. Musically, both albums are pretty derivative, as sweet as some of the cuts in it are. In *Gasoline Alley*, I like the title-track and the Bob Dylan cover played in a very *Astral Weeks* fashion ("Only A Hobo"). This sort of Van Morrisson-inspired instrumentation is also found in "Lady Day", but Rod Stewart's composition is not as good, as can be expected. "Cut Across Shorty* lively drive and lush violin sound good, though. And some other tracks have nice vocal hooks, but they're often... "cut short" indeed, at least before they can build up to something truly memorable. Honestly, it seems to me what we mostly have here is a great singer having fun recording "stuff". A lot of individual cuts are endearing, but it rarely goes beyond than that. There's no clear "vision" in this album. Not that all albums need to have one. But for "essential" records, it's different. Their tracklisting most often tell a very precise story. And it seems to me that the "pictures" in this Rod Stewart LP, and also the one after, are not telling a "story" that is that clear. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: less than 400 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (including this one, many others are more important to me)

A near-perfect "post-hardcore" album. So underrated it's a crime against the whole genre itself. The saturated basses played by Eli Janney and Johnny Temple (that right, "basses" in "plural") give this band a very distinct sound, and so do Scott McCloud's obsessive guitar riffs, husky vocals and part-sardonic, part-surreal lyrics. Plus, Ted Niceley's production is dynamic as f*ck. Dark atmospherics, menacing slow-growers, and propulsive rockers unite in this LP like in no other record. That's where *Venus Luxure No. 1 Baby* impresses the most: in its merging of different aesthetics that rarely mingle--therefore going far beyond the post-hardcore playbook as it was known in 1993. Also, every track is excellent, especially "In Like Flynn", "Learned It" and "Bulletproof Cupid", which are absolute gems. Once you hear those haunted vocals on the first, that heavy guitar riff on the second, or that hypnotic bass pattern on the third, it's basically impossible to forget them. So don't listen to the naysayers on this app. If you like your post-hardcore moody, with subtle pop inflexions that are both off-kilter AND catchy, this LP is for you. If you don't like such things, it's OK. But please, don't pass off judgement on musical styles you're just unable to comprehend anyway. Fawn over cheesy, "vanilla" stuff such as Bonnie Raitt, Adèle and Terence Trent D'Arby, and just say you're out of your league for anything that's a bit more exciting, original and "underground". And if you usually like that type of music but are still confused by the many idiosyncracies of Girls Against Boys, please give this album another chance later on. The global score for this record on this app is just a shame, enough said. Glad that Dimery's team put ot in this list, at least! 4.5/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums", rounded up to 5. Which translates to a 9.5/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 346 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 297 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 156 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 210

Hot take: without "Riders On The Storm", a song I have cherished for decades now, this Doors album wouldn't be in such a list-- and yes, even as ultimate recordings by Jim Morrisson, not long before his early death. The reason this album is a partial letdown is simple enough: too many of the cuts in it are just derivative blues dirges--appearing as a return to grassroots form at the time, yet souding quaint and quite self-indulgent decades later. I understand there's some "mystique" fitting with Morrisson's persona and fate in the lyrics of "The Changeling" or "Been Down So Long". But the music on those cuts is so... predictable. Even hackneyed at times. Not to say this is "hackneyed" as in the horrid album "The Soft Parade" (those tracks in *L.A. Woman* still "rock" somehow). But still... We're far from the peaks of the debut album here. Some tracks other than "Riders On the Storm" stand out, fortunately. With its epic undertones, the title-track is one of them. As are the delicate "Hyacinth House" and the wild, almost proto-sludge "L'America". " Love Her Madly" is also a memorable earworm, I'm gonna give it that--even though it sounds rather trite today. So yep. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums" . Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (as much for the "historical document" that the album is as for the few highlights in it) Albums I have left to review: more than 300, I've temporarily lost count here. Albums I'm sure to include in my own list: a half, approximately. Albums I *might* include: a quarter (including this one, even though I doubt there will be room left for it) Albums I certainly won't include: another quarter.

The title-track of this LP is a hidden gem, coupling a lively and wonderful string section with a pure vocal earworm. Just a perfect song. The rest of the album is pretty good--moody like the "transitional" albums of Brian Eno as he went from glam-rock to more cerebral landscapes. Maybe a notch under them, but good nonetheless. I'm glad I have this album in my collection. It's interesting to see John Cale exploring the idea of "decadence" in fashions that are radically different from the ones of his legendary former band, the Velvet Underground (very much under the helm of Lou Reed anyway). Here we have a classy, literary, European version of said "decadence", hearkening back to the "modernist" period mentioned in the title (as "rock" as John Cale's music is). The title-track is the cut you must not miss to understand this whole record, though. Don't forget to give it a spin. Number of albums left to review: 344 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 298 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 157 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 210

Overwhelmed with work so I won't wrote a long review about Soundgarden's most famous album. They're not my favorite rock band hailing from the Seattle area during the nineties, but this record (along with its pristine-yet-fully dynamic production) more than holds its own, and this decades after its release. To be honest, you can't say the same thing about most Pearl Jam recordings from that period, plagued by useless performative jam shenanigans and dated soundscapes. There's a "jam" aspect to Soundgarden as well, but the heavt riffs, melodic inclinations and skills for memorable vocal lines and impressive vocal performances perfectly complement the muddy, melancholic, dark subtext of those songs. We're leagues away from Nirvana here. Yet Soundgarden still had something very interesting to say about angst--and this in a way that was both catchy and artistically worthwhile. Of course, the twisted, "heavy" ballad "Black Hole Sun* and the hectic "Spoonman" are the more obvious highlights here. But most other cuts are very nice as well (cuts like the title track, "Fell On Black Days" or "Mailman"...). Some songs are just a little too long, and the total runtime is ia bit bloated as a consequence. But it's still a record that's nice to revisit today... So if I had room in my own list, I would be glad to include this LP. The thing is, I will maybe consider there's a whole bunch of other albums that need to go first before I hit my own 1001 mark. Abums with a 4/5 grade or close (translating to a 9/10 grade for general purposes) are usually part of my A-list. But LPs from 1994 might be an exception. There are too many great albums in that year (as in the 1967-1973 period, or from 1977 to 1979). And I can't have forty of them from one year in a list of 1001 essential records, going from 1956 to 2024... Other years need to be fully represented as well. Number of albums left to review: 343 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 298 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 158 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 210

I can't add much to the review currently topping this section. It's just a *perfect* review, and it encapsulates everything I think or "feel" about this particular album (which I have on my shelves, along with a couple other Pulp albums, plus two compilations). Awesome job to whoever wrote this one. The title-track, "This Is Hardcore", is indeed a dark masterpiece, and the rest of the LP is indeed "difficult" on several levels (lyrical, musical, topical...). So only... *hardcore* fans of Pulp would have you believe this one is an "essential record". I am a huge fan of *Different Class*. But a *hardcore* fan of Pulp I am not. I just merely like this particular album for what it is, i.e. an experimental way out of the dead end that britpop had become. A quick note about the death of britpop to wrap things up: with their eponymous album, Blur had managed to find their own way out of this "style" while retaining their sense of fun and excitement. Pulp, being older than Blur, chose to embrace some sort of cynical, nihilistic posturing instead. And the results of this stance can only be alienating to large swaths of a general audience. Consciously or unconsciously, this is probably the endpoint Jarvis Cocker wanted to reach with this one. *This Is Hardcore* is therefore a success on its own terms. But those terms can't really apply to a list only comprising "essential albums", can they? 3/5 for the purposes of said list. Which translates to a 8/5 grade for assessing albums in more general terms (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 342 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 298 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 158 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 211 (including this one)

Probably less relevant than the band's debut, this records still profits a lot from Jaimie xx's stellar solo adventure two years before--which saw him exploring electronic and EDM soundscapes in a successful way (*In Colours* is surely an "essential album", there's no arguing about that!). As a result, The xx manages to create a rather strong tracklist that also grooves quite a lot, even if it's a subdued fashion more in keeping with the band's initial aesthetics. Yet is this result, as "nice" as it is, the stuff of legendary albums? I don't think so. You have nice vocal and instrumental hooks everywhere, sure. Yet you also have unobtrusive songwriting, with some (wittingly?) frail moments, lyrically and vocally speaking. Such frailty may charm quite a few listeners. But I still think it will very rarely truly *impress* the bulk of them. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for assessing albums in more general terms (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 341 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 298 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 158 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 212 (including this one)

Mix of stellar ballads and weird mindfuckery which always sends me to the most peculiar mood. All of them sung in a gravelly voice sounding like no other voice on Earth, and crafted through Brechtian, "distanciated" hodge-podge aesthetics that often hit a soft spot in me. Second-period Tom Waits is always quite fascinating, minus one rare album where the man goes too far (looking at you, *The Black Rider*). I understand this sort of music is not for everyone. Yet highlights such as "Dirt In The Ground", " All Stripped Down", "Who Are You", " A Little Rain", "Going Out West", "Black Wings", " Whistle Down The Wind", "I Don't Wanna Grow Up" and moving closer "That Feel" (with Keif, from the Stones) are as good as any other highlights from Waits' eighties repertoire (the decade right before the one where *Bone Machine* was released). And that's not even counting the other tracks in that record, which are at least interesting in their own right. Four stars, then. Number of albums left to review: 340 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 299 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 158 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 212

Whether you "like" this record or not, you have to recognize how original, groundbreaking and extraordinary it is on a purely stylistic "level". It's a psychedelic feat--filled to the brim with elextronic textures and lush vocals foretelling far later acts such as Broadcast--a far-left "situationist" manifesto, and a sixties rock LP all rolled into one single offering. A quite striking association. Is it "good", though? Let's see.... "The American Metaphysical Circus" is a moody opener Trish Keenan or Beth Gibbons could have sung on later on--those sonic collages sounded like no other music during the sixties, and I think the rhythm section here has been sampled or borrowed by none other than Portishead for "Half Day Closing", if I'm not mistaken--a sure sign that The United States Of America were indeed ahead of their time with such an opener. "Hard Coming Love" sounds as if Pierre Henry was covering a Jefferson Airplane song (those crazy electronic flourishes!), and the result are pretty effective. With its eastern-inspired arrangements on violin, "Cloud Song" is a timeless delight--an ambient track that could have illustrated a scene from a sci-fi blockbuster or a historical epic. In "The Garden Of Earthly Delights", the Broadcast impression is stronger than ever, here propelled by a lively compositions that quickly hits the right marks. And what a chorus! "I Won't Leave My Wooden Wife For You, Sugar" is a goofy novelty act recalling similar experiments in *Sgt Pepper* but lacking their charm. It's even pretty horrid and hackneyed at times. Too bad. "Where Is Yesterday" is a dreamy cut carried by entranced vocal harmonies reminiscent of a religious oratorio. Nice way to open the second side of the LP, but more an interlude than a proper song, even if the atonal glissandi on strings create a perfect transition with what comes next. "Coming Down" is a hectic psychedelic gem--its guitar arrangements perfectly complement Dorothy Moskowitz's vocal performance. The starts of the verses, where the guitar goes haywire, are a thing of joy, as short as those moments are. "Love Song For The Dead Che" is a delicate cut, with subtle latin inflexions in keeping with its subject matter. Short "Stranded In Time" starts like an American reply to the Kinks, then quickly goes to more exotic places, and finishes on a sort of question mark--leaving things very unfinished. What the hell happenend here? And the same bum notes affect the three parts of experimental closer "The American Way Of Love". It's just a hot mess--and without the right drug and/or the right melodic touches, such endeavor never goes beyond its "curio" status. The Beatles had "Revolution 9", sure. But there were all the other stellar tunes in the White Album along with that other self-indulgent experiment to make the latter "acceptable" and even "fun" to go through. This is not exactly what happens here. So is thsi record *good*? Not always, unfortunately. The album starts very well but ends with quite dull or even grating moments. Being ahead of your day and age doesn't necessarily mean you're "great"--even if two thirds of those tracks are very close to being so. It's just that the album as a whole doesn't quite exactly gel--its last couple of tracks being somewhat of a letdown. And I won't discuss the bonus tracks, which don't really affect the brush strokes I've painted here (a mix of great tracks and disappointing ones). I'm glad this record is in the list, though. Even if I'm not sure there will be room for it in mine. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to an 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3 ; a large part of those points stemming from the groundbreaking nature of this LP). Number of albums left to review: 339 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 299 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 159 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 212

I already knew of this act through their legendary sardonic, anti-Vietnam war protest song " I Fell Like I'm Reading To Die Rag" as they played it at the Woodstock festival. The studio version of this song would only be recorded for the eponymous album after *Electric Music For The Mind And Body*, even though the tune had already been written by 1967 -- cowardly label executives were too scared of the shitstorm that could have ensued if said protest song had been included in the band's debut. Too bad it's not in this particular record. This would have given it an extra point for sure. Reading the reviews, I mostly expected a second-tier, self-indulgent sort of early psychedelic / white blues record. But I have to admit I was pleasantly surprised by some of the cuts in this album, as messy and/or sloppy as the songwriting and performances can be at times. I found most of the the slower, moodier cuts endearing for instance--cuts such as "Section 43" and "Bass Strings"--the latter being almost a caricature of a hippy song, from its first line mentioning a reefer passing around, to its last whispers praising "LSD". Laughable, probably. Yet I can live with this auditory version of patchouli scents in my living room once in a while. Feels like being in a period movie if you don't take any of this too seriously. And it's still more fun and more interesting than most of the Grateful Dead tracks I know of. Most of the lively cuts are fine as well, from opener "Flying High" (with its infectious chorus), to "Not So Sweet Martha Lorraine" and 'shaggadelic' "Love". Instrumental "The Masked Marauder" sums up what's both good and not-so-good in this record. It starts off just great, with an intricate guitar part filled with rich harmonies, but then segues into a novelty-inspired, ternary waltz-like bridge section that turns everything into parody, once again. Maybe without that cheesy organ--fine elsewhere--I could have taken the end of that track seriously, who knows? Not giving any conclusion to this review because this album has none to speak of ("Grace" just... goes along). Call that a marijuana-induced memory lapse. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of essential albums.Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes.  Number of albums left to review: more than 300 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (including this one, many others are more important to me)

That one's so easy to crack. Southern blues-rock / boogie-rock legends go eighties synthetic pop while retaining the basic aspects of their intial sound. And as they do so, they cash in huge checks, thanks to MTV and the likes. On paper at least, the concept of infusing synth-pop sounds into ZZ Top's DNA was promising. And it works for half of this album, with around 5 or 6 tracks that still sound "essential" today (including the stellar four singles, always a great fun to listen to). Unfortunately, the rest of this LP is made out of fillers that are either following that new formula with far less convincing results for those, or rehashing the old blues-rock template for a couple of other tracks, without much conviction compared to ZZ Top's previous efforts in that area... So looking on the bright side, *Eliminator* still marks one of the most commercially sucessful reinventions of a musical act in the last 50 years or so. Which not an easy feat to pull off. Yet artistically speaking, the album is still quite a mixed bag. Too bad. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to an 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3 ; a large part of those three points stemming from the creativity behind the band's reinvention, even if it's not fully convincing in the long run). Number of albums left to review: 337 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 299 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 161 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 212

So... When Miles Davis released *Milestones* and *Kind Of Blue* he did not only release great albums a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. He also created a whole new music genre, known as "modal jazz", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Bob Dylan released *Bringing It All Back Home*, he did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. He also created a whole new music genre, known as "folk-rock", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when The Who released *My Generation*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new trend for "mod-rockers", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when The Beatles released *Sgt Pepper*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created modern pop music, along with a whole new template for albums as a serious art form, and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when The Velvet Underground released their eponymous debut with Nico, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "art-rock", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Fairport Convention released *Unhalfbricking*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as modern "British folk" at the time, and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Marvin Gaye released *There's A Riot Going On*, he did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. He also created a whole new music genre, known as "socially-conscious modern soul", and this almost singlehandedly Likewise, when The Byrds released *Sweetheart Of The Rodeo*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "country-rock", and this almost singlehandedly (personally, I don't even really like this record, but I know that many fans of this subgenre still enjoy it today, so I'm not gonna argue against its relevance here). Likewise, when The Stooges released their eponymous debut, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "proto-punk" today, and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when David Bowie released *Ziggy Stardust...*, he did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. He also created a whole new music genre, known as "glam-rock", and this almost singlehandedly Likewise, when Black Sabbath released their eponymous debut, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, "metal", and this singlehandedly. Likewise, when Bob Marley And The Wailers released *Catch A Fire*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as modern "reggae" at the time, and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Brian Eno released *Ambient, vol 1*, he did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. He also created a whole new music genre, "ambient", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Kraftwerk released *Radioactivity* and *Trans-Europe-Express*, they did not only release great albums a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "electronic music", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Patti Smith, The Ramones, The Damned and The Clash released their respective debuts, they did not only release great albums a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, "punk", and this almost singlehandedly (at least for each incremental steps leading to that style as it is known for and enjoyed today). Likewise, when Wire released their debut *Pink Flag*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "post-punk", and this almost singlehandedly Likewise, when Minor Threat and Bad Brains released their first EP, they did not only release great records a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, "hardcore punk", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Kate Bush released her debut "*The Kick Inside*, she did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. She also created a whole new music genre, known as "baroque pop" (that she later brilliantly furthered in *Hounds Of Love*). And she did all this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when The Human League released *Dare*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "synth-pop", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Talk Talk and Slint respectively released *Laughing Stock* and *Spiderland* on each side of the pond around the start of the nineties, they did not only release great albums a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "post-rock", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when NWA released *Straight Outta Compton*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "gangster rap", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when A Tribe Called Quest released their debut LP, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "new school hip hop" at the time, and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when Massive Attack released their debut *Blue Lines*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, known as "trip hop", and this almost singlehandedly Likewise, when Daft Punk released *Homework*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also created a whole new music genre, "French Touch", and this almost singlehandedly. Likewise, when The Strokes released their debut *Is This It*, they did not only release a great album a lot of people still hold dear to their heart in 2023. They also triggered the whole *rock-revival* wave, and this almost singlehandedly. And so on. There's probably a dozen of other similar examples left, and of course, there will be many other ones in the future. What about Venom's *Black Metal*, then? Surely, with an album title like that, it has spawned new generations of long-haired lovers of heavy riffs and extreme-sounding vocal ! Well, parts of the album's horror Z-movie-level Satanist imagery, clearly parodic here, might indeed have been influential for a few Scandinavian bands, most of them filled with naive teenagers who didn't have a clue all of this was mostly in jest. And yes indeed, parts of the objectively *terrible* music might have have been listened to by those same teenagers. So yes on both counts. The thing is, said music is so badly composed, so badly performed, and so badly recorded that it's just impossible to take it seriously in 2023. And more importantly, *most metal fans out there* don't take this music seriously either today!!! At least that's what my usual impressions about this band tell me, and the reviews in here mostly confirm them. You have literally dozens and dozens and dozens of album categorized in the same subgenres as Venom that have been recorded since 1982, and you can bet your boots they sound better than this pile of hot garbage. Plus, musically speaking, *Black Metal* isn't really "black metal". It's very much trash metal / speed metal and the likes. There's no high-pitched shrieking and the riffs are too slow. It's only the Satan thing that can make you tie this act with later ones using that same "brand'. And well... that Satan thing wasn't even invented by Venom. The Bible invented it, did it not? 😉 So even as a first example of a precise subgenre--no matter how good or bad that example is--this album doesn't hold water. Very few people enjoy it now, it has no "objective" merits, and the influence it might have had--stemming on a misunderstanding anyway--has little to no relevance in the long run. So next, please. Number of albums left to review: 336 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 299 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 161 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many others are more essential to me): 213

Released a few years after Beck broke out, *Beautiful Freak* is very much of its time--and this *not* in a very good way. Why go for a *partial copy* of Mr. Hansen's mix of self-deprecatory folk, tongue-in-cheek indie rock, groovy hip-hop-inspired rhythms and melancholic ballads, when the original version is so convincing on its own? I felt this in 1996--remember, this was the first full-length release of Steven Spielberg and David Geffen' brand new joint label *Dreamworks*, and the promotion for this band--that almost no one had heard of before--was so huge for such an "indie" act that it was hard to avoid it at the time. Yet, as I said, I didn't take the bait back then. And I don't take it either today, even though I really tried hard to keep an open mind as I went back to this debut album... So why don't you take that bait, you might ask me? Well, for starters, the "dated" aspect of *Beautiful Freak*'s production is not to be underestimated here, even if it's not the only issue I have with this record (more on that later). To be more specific on that aspect, I'd say those outdated aspects are mostly striking in the first third of the LP, maybe because of the involvement of Michael Simpson, one half of the production duo The Dust Brothers, who produced... Beck's *Odelay*. Professional work here, I guess... Yet what felt fresh in the Beck album feels very much like a formulaic approach for the Eels debut. Opener *Novocaine For the Soul* sure is a perfect earworm, as "dated" as it sounds, there's no arguing about that! But after that, the album is very much a mixed bag--with a couple of great songs here and there (*Your Lucky Day In Hell*, *Flower*), and in between, either fillers almost feeling like interludes (example: the title-track) and/or more of the same formula (example: "Rag To Rags"), whose results are rarely memorable in those other cases. Plus there's quite a large share of hackneyed, awkward lyrics in this record!--lyrics about feeling... awkward (exemple: " Mental"). Quite awkward indeed. And very often, not even awkward in an "endearing" sense, to be honest. Not going to discuss *My Beloved Monster* for very long, by the way. If that clumsy indie-rock track had not been featured in *Shrek* (a movie produced by... *Dreamworks* Studios!), you can bet your boots no one would give a rat's ass about such a weird little tune today! So the dated soundscapes are not the only element to be blamed here. Compare "E" with Beck, once again: through his songwriting chops and his natural versatilty, Beck did manage to transcend nineties aesthetics so as to turn them into something that could often feel "timeless", fun and, also, emotionally relevant, quite often. As for "E", well... It's not that Mark Everett lacks such talents (he can write amazing songs as well). It's just that he has less spades of those enviable skills in him, and therefore often comes short of truly stellar moments for full-length releases. In other words, I'm not saying Everett shouldn't be a songwriter and a musician. He deserves the job 100%. But we're talking about "essential albums" here, are we not? Which leads me to me the *overall* issue I have with Mark Everett's music as I went back to three or four more albums of his today, just to see what I might have been missing out after all these years. Turns out I didn't miss that much in terms of *albums* (individual songs are a different story). The problems plaguing *Beautiful Freak* as a whole indeed seem to be everywhere in Eels's discography: the disjointed aesthetics rarely gel into a convincing track sequence, a large share of self-indulgence is to be found in the writing (both the music and the lyrics), and the LPs have problematic "dynamics" overall. You have a lot of decent arrangements and forays nto different music styles that are interesting on paper. But they very rarely cohere into a stimulating statement. The only exception I *could* make is *Electro-Shock Blues*, a album about grief and mourning, where--given its heavy subject matter--such "disjointed aesthetics" become assets. Especially at the end where a string of shattering-yet-life-affirming ballads create one rare effective sequence of songs that is truly affecting. This context also explains how the topsy-turvy sequencing in the first half of the record makes sense this time around, because the album is really about someone trying to reconstruct his soul after not one but *two* tragedies. One can only commend Everett for his bravery as he dealt with those heavy losses in his family. And, for me at least, that bravery and honesty paid off on an artistic level here, no doubt. Podiums and rankings about "essential albums" are unimportant compared to all that. Yet apart from that album (and maybe a string of great singles in the very middle of *Daisies Of The Galaxy*--namely, "I Like Birds", "Flyswatter", and "It's A Motherfucker"), I guess I can only appreciate Mark Everett's talents as a writer of individual songs, and not as someone who crafts great albums. Which, really, is nothing shameful. After all, there are not so many songwriters who wrote more than 10 absolutely great songs in this world (at least that you've heard of). And Mark Everett is one of them for sure. Buying Eels' compilation "Meet the EELS" right now to remind me of that later... I give *Beautiful Freak* a 2/5 grade for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 335 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 299 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 161 Albums from the list I won't include in mine: 214 (including this one, many others are more essential to me).

I get that as they were about to go their separate ways, Big Boi and André 3000 felt like they should "unite" their efforts one last time with this double-feature (the use of the word "unite" being partly ironic here). It sure was a great idea on paper to celebrate "the end" this way, and it helped both rappers get noticed one last time after so many other great LPs. The thing is, I can't help thinking that a single CD filled to its maximum 80-minute capacity, displaying the very best of those two separate albums, could have been the stuff of yet another legendary record (that would still be a double album on vinyl versions). Of course, selecting the very best cuts and creating a cohesive tracklisting out of the latter--so as to "unite" the increasingly differing aesthetics harnessed by both rappers/producers--would also have been the stuff of legendary headaches, going on for weeks on end. So this is what we got instead. Two very good albums, often achieving greatness. The only problem is that they're both clearly a notch under *Aquemini* and *Stankonia*. Not really trying to solve that puzzle here, but still highlighting the stellar cuts in each "album": Big Boi's *Speakerboxx*: Not counting the "Intro", you have its first five real tracks "Ghetto Musick", "Unhappy", " Bowtie", "The Way You Move", "The Rooster", a lot of them displaying latin-inspired horn sections that make the whole start of the record feel both cohesive and adventurous. The six cuts after are pretty good, but nowhere near as good as the first five. "Knowing" then achieves greatness again, thanks to its melancholic guitar loop, its lively clave-enhanced beat, and its moving vocal hook. Fast-paced "Flip Flop Rock", featuring Killer Mike and Jay-Z, is quite spectacular as well with its other guitar loop and its old school, "golden age" flourishes (the entrance of the bass as Jay Z starts rapping is an extraordinary moment). The penultimate song "Reset", a lush laidback number is pretty good too, but maybe it could be left out for an ideal "single CD release" of this project. Finally "Last Call" is an apt closer for *Speakerboxx*. It has a curiously quite "west-coast" gangsta rap instrumentation, but throughout his album, Big Boi is clearly indebted to the P-Funk roots of the genre, so this closer is still at home with the rest of the great songs. So that's seven or eight "keepers" for *Speakerboxx*. André 3000's much more extravagant and disjointed *The Love Below* now: after three "funny" short tracks/interludes, the album hits its real stride with funky "Happy Valentine's Day", maybe not the stuff of true greatness, but a cute statement from André-the-loverman. "Spread" goes to the same territory with slightly more interesting, subtle and leftfield instrumentations. Let's keep that one. After yet another "funny" spoken-word interlude about "mornings after", you have the sloooooow and gentle laidback funk of "Prototype". Its dreamy synth finale might make it a keeper as well. After that, "She Lives In My Lap" (featuring Rosario Dawson!) is smooth and sensual in the way that the best Prince songs circa-*Sign O'The Times" are, with extra groove added to its hypnotic beat at the end. And this one's a keeper for sure! Next, I don't think I need to say anything about "Hey Ya". It's an absolute banger, as everyone knows! And after that is a less famous single taken out of the album, "Roses". I think it could also be selected, which is not the case of the following interlude and proper track "Behold A Lady", both totally useless! Fortunately, "Pink And Blue" and "Love In War" up the ante after those duds--the latter once again reminding of the best moments of *Sign O' The Times". Next, "She's Alive" is a misfire, but "Dracula's Wedding" Is not--it's a fun mock-gothic exercise. The interlude and the drum'n'bass cover of "My Favorite Things" that follow are just dumbfounding ideas, however, once again totally useless. The last three tracks are far better, though. "Take Off Your Cool" (feat. Norah Jones) is a cool ballad sung over a delicate, moving acoustic guitar, and "Vibrate" and "A Life In The Day Of Benjamin André" are appropriately moody atmospheric tracks to close the proceedings. You get the picture now, *The Love Below" is a surely a mixed bag. Yet it has more interesting tracks than I remembered it having at the time (going from eight to eleven depending on how benevolent I might feel about the whole project). I think the real issue of this record is about how low the stakes are for the first three or four songs and interludes--with very self-indulgent moments there conveying a bad impression of what this album intends to do. But things are not so bad after that, all things considered. Take out five extra useless tracks/interludes, and the rest even holds water like in the best albums out there. Could the best cuts of each record be joined for a single CD, though? No, I don't think they could. Or it would taking a genius in the subtle art of tracklisting (you know there have been books written about that "art", don't you?). Global grade for the purposes of this list of "essential albums": 3.5/5, rounded up to a 4/5 mark. Which translates to a 8.5 grade for more general purposes. Really hesitating between directly keeping this double-feature in my own list or placing it in my "waiting room". Whatever I decide down there, there are chances I change my mind later on, to be honest... Number of albums left to review: 334 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 300 (including this one, probably) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 161 Albums from the list I won't include in mine: 214

Can't see what's really so striking in this umpteenth "rock revival" band from the naughts. Maybe some off-kilter or cutesy arrangements in quite a few moments. But as of now, the barebones songs don't seem so memorable to me. Such songwriting is probably endearing to certain types of listeners, still remembering this act today. But to me, all of this was already a little self-indulgent in 2004, and time has not been kind to the "style" of a lot of those songs. Not a "bad" band by any means, yet a lot of "style" and not much exciting substance.  Listen to Geese's very recent *3D Country* to see how rock revivalism can be done right--i.e. in a manner that gives the clear feeling your band can paradoxically gain a whole distinct identity through the use of past references, and with a knack for leftfield, energetic flourishes from start to finish. In comparison, The Zutons sond a bit bland, and justifying their inclusion in this list might therefore be a bit of a stretch... 2/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums", translating to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 333 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 300 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 161 Albums from the list I won't include in mine: 215 (including this one, many other full-length releases are more important to me).

PROS: - A "punk" band that had its own identity from the get-go, setting them apart from the '77 'explosion' of acts in that style. Besides, The Stranglers were neither "pub-rock" nor "post-punk" at the time. Clearly, they were doing their own thing, and that's always commendable. Funny how many reviewers in here state that they don't like punk and yet appreciated this record (nor necessarily a good sign for me, since I love many other punk albums, but you gotta give credit to the band for this feat nonetheless). - Impressive musicianship on many tracks here (that terrifically complex bassline on "Goodbye Toulouse" is a thing of wonder!). I understand why some good folks writing reviews in this app compared The Stranglers to recent stellar bands such as Shame or Squid--even though I wouldn't necesarily go that far in my personal praise (see my later CONS section). - The lyrics and vocal lines often convey a very distinct worldview that gives "dangerous" undertones to many of the songs. "Sometimes", "Peaches" and "Grip" are borderline-offensive be today's standards, but you gotta admit how memorable and "fun" they are for some ears. CONS: - That hammond organ quickly gets on my nerves for a lot of those tracks. I don't feel that I'm at a punk gig when listening to the record. I feel like I'm at the fair, and there are not enough "gothic" vibes to make it an evocative experience either. Punk can have "romantic" vibes in the literary meaning of the word, as "offensive" as that music genre is. That's how it becomes both grotesque AND "sublime". In contrast, I mostly get "vulgar" vibes here. - That goddam organ also enhances the *major* harmonies of those songs. And there are already too many of them for my personal taste. Punk or not, I like rock'n'roll to bring some tension. Major chords rarely bring the latter to the table. So I'm not surprised that when the Stranglers later embraced pop aesthetics, they often sounded so cheesy. Textures and sounds were not the only elements to blame. Compositions played a part in this. - In spite of what I said about the "dangerous' aspects of this record, a lot of the lyrics didn't age really well. The metrics AND the "optics" in some of those cuts sound awkward, hackneyed and, to be honest, a little dumb. I have nothing against sex-crazed "narrators" in songs for instance, but you gotta make that topic interesting, just like for any other one. Conclusion: If really you had to keep ONE Stranglers record in this list, I guess "Rattus Norvegicus" would be the best candidate. Their next album, *No More Heroes*, is a decent sequel, but it's *vastly* ovverrated. The one after, *Black And White*, might ironically be slightly *under*rated, but it's certainly no masterpiece either. And, as far as I've explored the British band's discography, let's face it: each of their LPs after *Balck And White* comes off as utterly... terrible. Those albums are either some sort of weird conceptual statement involving bizarre, half-baked "songs"--partly pretentious, partly ridiculous (that *Gospel According To MenInBlack* nonsense, for instance)--or some cheesefest of an unprecedented magnitude (*Dreamtime*). Or even BOTH (*La Féline*). For one rare good or even great single (the wonderful "Golden Brown", the lively rocker "Duchess", the lush "Skin Deep", the catchy pop masterpiece "Always The Sun"...), there are ten times more irrelevant songs, and almost as many frankly *horrible* cuts. *Rattus Novergicus could have been the first step of an artistically promising career. Turns out it's one of their very rare albums whose bulk is still listenable today. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums", translating to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 332 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 300 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 162 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine, as many other ones are more importnat to me: 215.

Hey, I have this one at home! Mostly bought it on the strength of the "Rolling" single, a stellar track with a killer groove and killer vocal line, but I would lie if I said I spent much time with the whole album since 2019. So I was about to dismiss this record as maybe slightly overrated for such a list--even if it's pretty good. But then I saw its global score on this app, 3.78! That's really a good one for such a recent record. People using the app really seem to enjoy this LP, and a lot of them point out they only have discovered Michael Kiwanuka thanks to this 1001 albums project. Made me reconsider the whole thing a little, I have to say. Revisiting this LP was therefore pretty nice. It's got that "seventies" feel I really like. Actually such sounds and types of songwriting are basically timeless. The first three tracks are great, but most of the ballads on side two are also quite impressive... So yeah, why shouldn't I include this record in my list of keepers? The thing is, there are around 50 albums released in 2019 that I find at least equally interesting or even *better* than this album. And there are at least seven albums not mentioned in the 1001 albums book, released in that same year, that absolutely deserve the spot currently taken by Michael Kiwanuka--albums by Lana Del Rey, Fontaines D.C, Billie Eilish, Big Thief (not for one, but for *two* albums), Tyler The Creator and Weyes Blood. Plus *Ghosteen*, by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, already mentioned in the book, if I'm not mistaken (as is Little Simz' *Grey Area*, whose production team was also involved to *Kiwanuka*). All those records are excellent, and it is my staunch belief that most of them will be fondly remembered in the decades to come--because the fanbase of those artists has grown exponentially in the last years or so. 2019 was such a good year for music, and it saw the rise of so many phenomenal artists. You'd have to go back to late sixties, the late seventies, or the early nineties to witness similar sudden surges in the quality level of the music released through albums... Under that light, I think it's better to err on the side of caution and place this LP in my "waiting list". I'll probably revisit it again. But chances are that will revisit it *less* than all the albums I've just mentioned, as good as it is... 3.5/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums" (rounded up to 4). Which translates to a 8.5/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 331 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 300 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 163 (including this one, in spite of a grade that generally puts an album in the list of direct "keepers"--we might need a little time to see how this record holds up in the future) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other ones are more important to me): 215.

Eighties country is such a bore. Can anyone ever *seriously* suggest a track like "Hillbilly Highway" is in earnest and not a parody? Can someone really tell the difference? WHO, goddamnit???! It's so... predictable. And hackneyed. And bland. I'll give one extra point to my initial 1/5 grade, though (translating to a 6/10 grade for more "general" purposes than the one of this list of "essential album"). And this for four reasons: 1) Nice instrumentation sometimes make up for the eighties cheesefest that the production of this album is: that tremolo guitar on the first two tracks, some banjo on another... You get the honky tonk picture now, I guess. 2) Steve Earle looks like a nice dude, and he didn't have an easy life... 3) He was part of the cast of one of the best TV series of all time (and you can hear his voice on a couple of cuts from its soundtrack). That TV series is *The Wire*. He played the part of a recovering drug addict "sponsoring" another one who was knee deep into the throes of addiction. It's a part where he was convincing to say the least. 4) Apart from a couple of artists such as Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, I'm not a country music aficionado anyway, so I can readily admit that I'm not the best judge in this overall genre anyway. And Earle looks like an "authentic" player of this genre. That makes him convincing somehow, even if I'm not convinced by his music (at least on this record). But that's only one extra point, alright? You can't change a leopard its spots. So next, please. Number of albums left to review: 330 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 300 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 163 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (including this one, many other records are more important to me): 216

All groundbreaking monuments require some prior training by its architect. *Isn't Anything* obviously foretells some of the noisy sonic pleasures of MBV's own *Loveless*, but it also anticipates the ones of many later acts, from Teenage Fanclub to Sebadoh, from Blonde Redhead to Beach House, up to the latest strands of shoegaze still heard in 2024. You can perceive whiffs from all those subsequent acts in quite a few moments in the album, and it's amazing how a lot of those songs could have been released yesterday, how they haven't aged a day. There are also subtle callbacks to earlier cutting-edge artists such as Cocteau Twins or even Nico. Yet everything in unmistakably marked by Kevin Shields' stamp--that trembling, fuzz-drenched, explosive guitar sound, for instance. If really I had to be picky, I perceive a dip in overall quality towards the start of side 2, with a few less convincing tracks that don't necessarily segue gracefully into one another. But the last two songs, "Nothing Much To Lose", and "I Can See It (But I Can't Feel It)" are a stellar way to cap things off, with a promise for later abrasive-yet-tender developments that My Bloody Valentine surely held--as everyone knows. 1988 was not a stellar year for music anyway. Too many acts and solo artists were still imprisoned in those dreadful eighties aesthetics, and if the underground was teeming with acts that would soon pave the way for the nineties, the important full-length releases made by some of those acts in that year were still far and between. There's Pixies' *Surfer Rosa*, Sonic Youth's *Daydream Nation*, maybe Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds's *Tender Prey*... and... that's it basically! At least if you don't count a fistful of other great albums in rap and a couple of other genres... Under that light, and given how groundbreaking *Isn't Anything* already was, I think it's not too risky to directly include it in a list of "keepers", in spite of a couple of lackluster moments in its tracklisting. 3.5/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums" (rounded up to four). Which translates to a 8.5/grade for more general purposes (5+3.5). Number of albums left to review: 329 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 301 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 163 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 216

Oh well. Being one of the most interesting bands of the "Cool Cymru" wave (with Manic Street Preachers, *maybe*) doesn't automatically make you an "essential" act to absolutely remember when assessing music from the last seven decades or so. Besides, "Cool Britannia" was already filled with overrated artists, as this list proves then and again. To be clear, I have nothing against Welsh rock bands. It's just that it's the same British critics that have here overblown this offshoot of the Britpop craze to ridiculous proportions. And those critics are not to be trusted, at least in my somewhat humble opinion. To be more specific about this album: it's not bad at all, with a lot of thought given to key songwriting elements, production and arrangements. Yet what is so "original" here, after dozens of other Britpop bands? A fistful of songs, sure: the title track is among them, with its enormous winks to ELO and the Beach Boys. "Rings Around The World" is an earworm for sure, even if it's the sort of happy-go-lucky earworm that can get on your nerves after too many listens--and this in spite of its witty lyrical contents lamenting pollution in space (more in line with the innocuous aspects of The Beach Boys' *I Love You* than with any gem from *Pet Sounds* or *Smile*). Among the highlights, and yet also a very strange cut, "Sidewalk Serfer Girl" sounds as if folk weirdo Kevin Ayers had decided to have a baby with neo-metal rockers Linkin Park. Not sure I needed that sort of coupling in my music world, but now I know this feat can be accomplished at least. Finally, the vocoder-laden verses of "Juxtapozed With U" are certainly prophetic of sounds we got used to since 2001 (from Daft Punk's neo-disco shenanigans to Kanye West's crazy antics and Frank Ocean's neo-neo soul). This composition also hearkens back to the "plastic soul" of *Young Americans*, and it's true that Super Furry Animals were always convincing when they took a page from David Bowie's biblical book (as when they wrote "Demons", a clear homage to *Ziggy Stardust* found in their former LP *Radiator*). Apart from that, there's not much that's *truly* memorable in this record. Just as for most SFA albums from the late nineties / early noughts, you have EDM interpolations that may or may not have aged well depending on your mileage about those sorts of electronic productions twenty years ago. And, let's face it, you mostly have Blur-inspired songs. A LOT of Blur-inspired songs (sometimes mixed with ELO, sometimes with Bowie). Except that it's a second-rate Blur at best, whether for the lively cuts or for the slower ones. So not bad overall. But not "essential". And beyond the relative merits of *Rings Around The World*'s individual tracks, another issue one may have with this record is how sloppy and topsy-turvy its tracklisting looks. Case in point: the jarring transition between "Sidewalk Serfer Girl" and "Rings Around The World", in spite of the highlights that they are. Seems to me that *Radiator* is more "cohesive" than this later record, and so *slightly* more enjoyable than the two Super Furry Animals albums selected in the 1001 Albums Book. But even there, I don't think that *Radiator* is an essential LP either. All the SFA full-length releases I've heard are "cool" albums, in spite of their many shortcomings. But the latter prevent them from being worthy of a list gathering the best records of all time. Ain't life hard? One last thing: browsing through the Wikipedia page, I've just learnt that Paul McCartney plays "carrot and celery" on one of those tracks ("Receptacle For The Respectable"). What the heck??! I'm glad Gruff Rhys and company had a fun time with an ex-Beatle in the studio, but decidedly, this won't save this song from its useless meanderings in its second half. If anything, such anecdote proves how Super Furry Animals could be self-indulgent at times, in spite of their connection to British rock regalia. 2.5/5 for the purpose of this list of "essential albums" (rounded up to 3). Which translates to a 7.5/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2.5). Number of albums left to review: 328 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 301 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 163 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (including this one, many other records are more important to me): 217 PS: And what an ugly-ass artwork, for chrissake!

I remember reading interviews of Julian Cope in magazines during the nineties. It looked like he was a totally bonkers shamanic figure, and it made him... endearing, in a way. I didn't have the opportunity to listen to his music until now. So I have to thank this app and the 1001 Albums book for this occasion. What I didn't know was that Julian Cope was also a TV host of sorts, hosting a game show named "Spot The Influence" (the secret name of *Peggy Suicide*). "Welcome to the show ! Today we have Cyril, a player hosting from France ! How do you do?" "Fine, Julian. Thanks for having me here!" "Sure, Cyril! Now let's play the game. Spot the influence! What's the influence on track 1 of my album?" "... Er... Let Me Think... Velvet Underground? Except that the production values are stemming from the late eighties. Which is... I don't know. A little weird for that type of song." "Ah, but you can still feel the nineties coming, can't you?" "Yeah, well, a little..." "Anyway... That's one point of view and that's one point FOR you! You can applaud Cyril, ladies and gentlemen (*The live audience applauds*) Track 2, now..." (*A very cheesy song is now heard on the PA*.) "Simple Minds!" "Ah, quite good. Two points! And quite a jarring jump between the two cuts, right?" "Er... Right. Guess the eighties aesthetics are the only common denominator here..." "Track 3, now!" (*A formless jam on a very dated *Screamedelica*-like type of rythm section ensues*). " ... Beats me. The Stone Roses and Primal Scream on *more* drugs?" "Well, I won't give you the correct answer now, Cyril. But you're not so far off the mark. About the drugs, I mean. Track 4!" "This one's not so bad. Pre-Brian Jonestown Massacre and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club by way of 60's psychedelia!" "And that's one more point! Yeah, you can reverse the influence thing, I guess. Track 5, now..." "Lame attempt to imitate Iggy Pop circa-*Lust for Life*?" "Oh, that's just very mean! What's so wrong about my voice?" "I don't know... The overaffected pretense, maybe. And the lack of conviction in the middle of it all..." (*The crowd boos the unhappy candidate after his jab at the TV host*) "Er, Okay... Now let's go to track 6. Maybe Cyril will gain the points he just lost when he said that inappropia..." "Excuse me? Julian?" "Yes?" "The thing is, I've listened to *Peggy Suicide*, as long as it is in its "deluxe version"... And it was quite a drag, to tell you the truth! The thing is, I could name all sorts of other influences I haven't quoted yet, from Nick Cave to The Doors, from John Cale to David Bowie, and from folk to funk and kraut, or new wave/post-punk. Yet I don't see the *fucking point* of this piling of influences. Especially when *nothing* in this record is up to the level of its obvious models and inspirators. I get that your lyrics are topical and/or metaphorical, which is fine. But the overall mood of this LP is so *dreary* and sloggish and dated. At least musically speaking. No offense, OK? I just tell it like I feel it. Besides, Julian, there's one thing you didn't tell me... What will I win if I give the maximum of correct answers in this game?" "Well, there's nothing to win. Apart from listening to my fine, fine album, said to be the start of my *more mature* period by prominent critics of the early nineties." (*The crowd cheers and bursts into a riotous applause, prompted by the TV host's assistant.*) "Ah OK. Goodbye, then." (*And on this, without any other word, the unhappy candidate gets out of the studio*) -- What? What do you want me to say? From my memory of those interviews, I thought Julian Cope's music would be as wild as the public figure he seemed to be. Turns out this record is both tame and overlong, filled with "exercises in style" that don't even have the charm such endeavors usually have. There are *some* good moments in this record, (and maybe even one *great* moment, the mantra that's repeated in the middle of "Safesurfer"), but they're drowned by the vapid meanderings found everywhere else. I just can't believe one of the reviewers in here compared this album to The Soft Boys's *Underwater Moonlight*. *Underwater Moonlight* is a neat, catchy, vital affair from start to finish. That's how you make very *different* influences coalesce, folks! The very contrary of what happens in *Peggy Suicide*. Since starting this equally meadering review, I've read stuff about Julian Cope's life online, and believe me, I have nothing but sympathy for the political activist, wild philosopher, and music erudite that he is (that book he wrote about krautrock would certainly interest me, even with those "factual errors" in it--his humble words, not mine--ones that made him refuse to publish it again). If only for this, because Cope's heart seems to be in the right place--just as it seemed to be for *Peggy Suicide*--I won't give him a 1/5 grade. Yet if we're talking about "essential" albums here, I honestly can't see this record being part of them. Maybe the problem with music erudites is that they know so much--or at least, are open-minded to so many different influences--that it becomes impossible for them to make all those influences cohere into a single pot. Maybe another album by Cope could convince me in the future. But as of now, I feel quite dumbfounded by what I've heard here. 2/5 for the purposes of this necessarily subjective list of "essential albums, translating to a 7/10 grade for more general and "objective" purposes. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 327 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 301 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 163 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (including this one, many other records are more important to me): 218

Little Simz is a skillful and impressive rapper, anyone who's into hip hop a little can recognize it right away. And the music on this album is excellent. I have minor gripes with a couple of more "middle of the road" neo-soul tracks in *Grey Area* (looking at you, "Selfish"), but there are no "fillers" to speak of in this tight, tight record, as many other reviewers in this app already pointed out. Please also check out her following album *Sometimes I Might Be An Introvert*, by the way. You do have a few "fillers" in this longer release, but the highlights are even MORE impressive. UK now has nothing to envy the US when it comes to good hip hop, that's for sure. Not that there are no stellar highlights in *Grey Area*, mind you, like its opener "Offence" and its spiky bass synth and hectic bridge section, or like the lush and smoooooth guitar-driven "Wounds", or like the Tamla Motown-inspired background vocal hooks of "Sherbet Sunset". And at the center of this record you have a perfect string of bangers. First there's the intense, dry-yet-voluble "Venom", using the best of the US trap scene without the clichés that will make the latter unavoidably age like poor wine. Little Simz' faster-than-lightining-rapping in the middle of that cut is a thing of wonder-- "pussy in power" indeed. And the serpentine, atonal *Psycho*-like string section on the track is a thing of wonder as well, scary as fuck. Then you have the fun oriental flourishes or *101FM* and the more introspective and soulful mode of *Pressure*. Inflo's production chops shine a lot in this record, just like they do in other Little Simz albums or songs by Michael Kiwanuka (performing in *Grey Area*'s closer "Flowers" and its mournful-yet-jazzy, saxophone-enhanced soundscape). It's nice to have recent albums like this on this app. I wish there were more of them, ideally, and in more varied styles that the ones represented in this list. There were *a lot* of stellar records released in 2019 for instance, and some of them were even better than this one. That said, I understand that you need to wait a little before deciding whether such or such album has grown to an "essential" status. So it feels to me those sorts of lists should either refrain from including albums from the last decade OR conversely, take a *real* chance and include FAR MANY MORE recent records. In that case, you'd just have to erase cheesy stuff by Dwight Yoakam, Bonnie Raitt, Limp Bizkit, Kid Rock and the likes, lol -- this list has too many piles of turd like that, plus a few overall "OK" records from the distant past that are just weird curios today (like stuff by Carpenters or early Bee Gees). Anyway, Dimery's "solution" to just include a couple of records a year since 2010 is just a half-assed one to solve the problem of respecting the 1001 finite number for his "updated" project. Honestly, it feels like Dimery doesn't have a "team" of music experts with him these days, and that the recent additions in his latest book editions are just his personal, "subjective" choices. Nice that those choices include one Little Simz album. But a shame that there are no other recent important records by Big Thief, Fontaines DC, Idles, Billie Eilish, Lana Del Rey, Tyler The Creator, Low, Parquet Courts or Daughter, to only take a few 2019 examples. End of my rant about Robert Dimery's list. Giving a 4/5 grade to this Little Simz record, even if I'm gonna wait a little to decide whether I include it in my own ranking. I almost *never* do that for my own 4/5 albums. But I'd rather err on the side of caution for certain recent LPs. Number of albums left to review: 326 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 301 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 164 (including this one, OR *Sometimes I Might Be An Introvert--TWO Little Simz record might be overkill) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 218

Wow. I knew who Scissor Sisters were -- I even ended up in their small rehearsal space one night when I was visiting NYC: an acquaintance of the band had the key to that place, located under a bar in the Lower East Side, where I was partying with a friend of mine (and no, there was no poppers or kinky sex involved in that small space if that's what you're thinking of! - It was all very respectable, just sipping a few beers there and having a nice chat, lol). But in spite of that personal experience, I had never properly listened to any Scissor Sisters record, and I have to say I'm *very* impressed by that one. It's got just the right mix of seventies and eighties references I love, from glam-rock (seventies Elton John, of course--whose shadow looms over half those brilliantly composed cuts--but also Bowie, Bolan, Mott The Hopple...) up to eighties synth-pop understood in its most elegant definition (that whole Human League and Heaven 17 connection--plus stuff I don't enjoy as much but that's certainly iconic for gay subcultures, like The Communards, Pet Shop Boys or George Michael). You also have groovy flourishes worthy of Stevie Wonder, and, obviously, the huge and mandatory disco influence that's found in the drag queen scene, where this project originated from. Yet there's still an unmistakable "rock" energy to the whole thing, which transcends the potential overload of cheese into a truly exhilarating experience. The incredible disco cover of Pink Floyd's *Comfortably Numb* in this debut nicely sums up all those assets, with its obvious winks to Frankie Goes To Hollywood (even if the word "relax" was already in the original lyrics written by Roger Waters), or with its hilarious rëenactment of the falsetto vocal hooks of Bee Gees circa "Saturday Night Fever". It's fun. It's fresh. It's witty. With a calling card like that, Scissor Sisters was sure to leave a favorable impression to early naught audiences looking for the next big thing. Too bad I missed that train at the time... Yet as cool and humourous as all those reference points are, they wouldn't amount to much if the band didn't have such a knack for infectious earworms. And it's not only "style", folks, it's also *substance*. There's not a single filler in this record, so I'm not gonna bother quoting a lot of songs from it. Seventies-era Elton John didn't merely influence Scissor Sisters in a "pastiche" or postmodern sense of the word, you see (even if "pastiche" and "camp" are unavoidable in gay / drag queen circles, for better of for worse). He also deeply influenced the band's chord progressions, the harmonies, the care for instrumental detail, the lyrical eye, and the overall "energy" of this thing. So much that if you placed some of those songs inside *Goodbye Yellow Brick Road*'s tracklisting, you wouldn't even blink an eye. And the same can be said for the other influences guiding the Sisters. Another track thus sums up those other sorts of assets Scissor Sisters had in 2004. It's the poignant closer "Return To Oz", in a way more faithful to "Comfortably Numb"'s original epic spirit than the cover of the same name found towards the start of the album, very ironically. Scissor Sisters come full circle with that intense closer, and it's only one piece of evidence among many showing how carefully constructed the internal callbacks and other 180-degree-turn of this eponymous debut are. It's the sort of thing that allows a record filled to the brim with various music genres to become personal, sincere, and, at times, very touching. Because, well, to put it as simply as I can, the songs are excellent. So excellent that you quickly forget their "pastiche" aspects and end up enjoying them without any sense of irony in mind. I've only browsed through the next three Scissor Sisters albums, but it seemed to me they are not as spectacular as this debut. The two last ones even sound overproduced, which only brings out their "camp" aspects to far less tolerable levels (the exact opposite of the many qualities I've just spotted in the band's debut). The first side of *Ta-dah* contains a string of immediate highlights, though, proving that Scissor Sisters still had those stellar skills you will always need if you want to create memorable earworms, catchy instrumentation, and witty lyrics. Yet if we're talking about "essential albums", the eponymous debut seems to be the *one*. Glad that this app made me know it. And glad that Scissor Sisters were there to open all those doors for a lot of people during the first decade of this century. Whether front doors or back doors I might risk adding. 🙃 5/5 if you round up. (9.5/10 on a scale of 10). Number of albums left to review: 325 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 302 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 164 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 218

I won't write a long review 'cos I was late checking out today's album. Just like Ms. Hill is late for half of her shows, I might be tempted to add rather unkindly. ;) I pushed the "like" button for both the 5/5 and 1/5 reviews currently topping this section. Honestly, the first one is a beautiful, vivid memory of a personal connection with the album, and I "felt" what fans of it could feel if it's played at the right moment for them. And the second encapsulates in one harsh sentence my own personal gripes with the record: not enough memorable earworms for an album with such a "reputation", and mostly demonstrative vocal shenanigans that rarely build up into a truly exciting experience. I love Fugees' *The Score*, it's one of my favourite rap albums of all time. But *The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill" doesn't work for me. I don't know if it's because Ms. Hill's reach as a soul singer exceeds her real grasp (she certainly has wonderful skills overall... but are those up to the task of what the singer aims at doing here, i.e. crafting a "classic" soul record worthy of her peers in the past?). Or if it's because my inability to fully appreciate the record stems from the quality of the compositions per se. Those have a lot of interchangeable moments, which only seem to serve as a pretext for the extreme "performative" aspect of Lauryn's Hill's vocal contributions in that "neo-soul" mode. And it reaaaaaally feels like I would at leasy like the album a little if Ms. Hill rapped more on it, instead of singing. One thing struck me that hasn't struck me before as I tried listening to this album again, though. Those catchy quavers played on piano in "Doo Wop"' sound *very* close to the ones used by Dr. Dré in his hit "Still D.R.E.", out *a year* AFTER Lauryn Hill's single was released. A way to state that the production on this record was still "on point" and even sometimes relevant for the times, and that I'm not gonna deny its groundbreaking aspects for hip hop at large. I only wish the whole thing was not as "self-indlugent" and lengthy as it is. I understand the need for Hill to look at herself in the mirror as she probes her soul. But if you do it for too long, you risk coming off as vain and disconnected from real life. It's a tricky balance for sure. Hence why I still respect what the artist attempts to do here, even if it's clearly not for me. 3/5 for the purposes of what my subjective version of this list of "essential albums" might be. Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more "objective" and general purposes (5+3) Number of albums left to review: 324 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 302 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 166 (including this one, even if I doubt there will be room left for it) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 218

Iconic title track, plus a few very *weird* yet also very interesting deep cuts I had never listened to before ("Scorpio", plus "Message II" on the expanded edition). The admittedly cheesy "Dreamin'" and "You Are" places right before the album's centerpiece and closer--lounge soul ballads heavily inspired by Stevie Wonder--stick out like sore thumbs in the middle of the rap tracks. Yet they also prove Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five were not the one-trick pony everyone thought they were. "The Message" is an essential single for the history of early hip hop, of course. But is the album bearing the same name an "essential album"? The jury's still out on this one. Number of albums left to review: 323 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 302 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 218

Nothing inherently wrong with this record, the first and *probably* the best of Traffic's discography post-Dave Mason's departure. With their modal jazz flourishes foretelling Steely Dan's later explorations during the seventies, "Glad" and "Freedom Riders" are great cuts. Steve Winwood's piano improvisation (?) at the end of the first track is surely a dreamy moment, thanks its use of eastern-sounding scales. And the title-track (a cover of a traditional tune) is very evocative as well. Not sure this rock record is material for an "essential albums" list, though. I don't really understand why "Empty Pages" was picked as as a single for the album, for instance--even if said single seemed to have helped Traffic reach a certain success across the pond. Maybe the more "middle of the road" nature of that song can explain such success. But it's not one that aged specifically well, in my humble and honest opinion. Besides--and speaking of singles--selecting a Traffic record that has none of their wonderful staple songs "Mr. Fantasy" (from the album of the same name) and "Feelin' Alright?" (from *Traffic*), seems like overkill a little. *John Barleycorn Must Die* is just a nice "little" record--certainly more *cohesive* than the relatively topsy-turvy affairs that the two first Traffic LPs were--hence why it ends up on a list like this--and yet also devoid of the striking pop highlights also found in *Mr. Fantasy* and *Traffic*, unfortunately. Formal perfection is not *always* the key that opens the door of an essential album. Sometimes, a little imperfections here and there can be forgotten when a bunch of poignant hits surge from a tracklist. To conclude, *John Barleycorn Must Die* suffers from being mostly a "transitional record". And since this is a transition which ultimately lead to a phase of Steve Winwood's career that became increasingly *cheesy* as the years went by, it might be as easy to single it out as it is easy to dismiss it. And this for very similar reasons, ironically. Indeed, Winwood's music slowly became ridiculous from 1970 onwards, up to the point when his cheesy antics became utterly *unbearable* during the late seventies / early eighties. Had his (and Traffic's) next steps been as memorable as Steely Dan's *Pretzel Logic* or *Aja*, people might have remembered it the way some olks still remember *Countdown To Ecstasy* today. By the way, terrible Winwood solo album *Arc Of A Diver* is in Dimery's list as well, astonishingly. And as said, things got even worse than that in the following years. Evidence enough that anything related to Steve Winwood in the 1001 Albums book must be taken with a grain of salt. At least *John Barleycorn Must Die* still clearly avoided such later horrors, and I'm glad about that. But that's not a sufficient reason to include the album in my own finite list, very sadly. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3).

So let me get this straight, Mr. Dimery . Compilations are authorized in your list, or are they NOT? If it's the first, then discard that one and place Buzzcocks' *Singles Going Steady* instead. And if it's the second, then just discard that one. The tracks by LTJ Bukem are nice drum'n'bass cuts with quite subtle and lush flourishes. And they aged pretty well considering how that particular electronic genre sounds dated overall in 2023. But minus a couple of exceptions here and there, the tracks produced by all the other artists are just a footnote written in tiny-ass letters in the book of electronic music. And once again, this double record is a compilation, not a proper album. I shouldn't even have to grade this thing. So next, please. Number of albums left to review: 321 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 302 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 220 (including this one)

"Break On Through", "Light My Fire" and "The End" alone warrants the inclusion of this extraordinary debut album in such a list. It would be insane not to mention The Doors at some point. And here's your best bet to do it, no question. By the way, the three gems I've just quoted shouldn't lessen the impact of the other slightly-less-iconic-yet-equally-stellar cuts in this debut. Cuts such as "The Crystal Ship", "End Of the Night", or that mock-gothic yet genuinely haunted cover of Brecht and Weill's "Alabama Song"... And "Soul Kitchen", "Twentieth Century Fox" and "Take It As It Comes" are excellent blues-infused psychedelic songs as well. There's maybe a couple of very short fillers at the center of the record, but nothing that hurts its momentum. And even those lesser tracks bring some welcome mood swings on the table, in a way. So contrary to the mixed bags that all the other Doors LPs are to an extent, this one's a no-brainer. 5 stars, then. Number of albums left to review: 320 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 303 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 220

Stone-cold masterpiece. Of all the solo albums recorded by ex-Beatles after their dissolution, this is certainly the most important and moving one. "Mother", "Love", "Working Class Hero", "Isolation", and "God" are absolute gems--recorded in an understated fashion that make them timeless--and the rest is excellent as well, from start to finish. Primal therapy didn't help John Lennon solve the childhood-trauma-related issues he had. But it helped him record another stellar debut album, at least. Somehow, I have an inkling he knew this new hippie fad of his would mostly help him on an artistic level... If you add singles "Give Peace A Chance", "Cold Turkey" and "Instant Karma" to the songs I've just singled out (found in the latest CD editions), plus "Imagine", "Jealous Guy" and "Give Me Some Truth" from the next album *Imagine* (and maybe also "Mind Games"), you basically have a greatest hits compilation by Lennon. And the mere fact that more than *half* of those songs come from the era of this debut album testifies how important the latter is for the history of rock music. 5 stars. Number of albums left to review: 319 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 304 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 220

There's only been *three* reviewers giving a 5/5 grade to this LP. Not because *Justified* is an "artistic" failure for the sort of commercial music it attempted to sell to the masses during the early naughts. The album *isn't* an artistic failure, it does exactly what it intends to do, and this in every "objective", reasonable way you can assess the music on it. Justin's voice is excellent, even if it doesn't reach the Michael-Jackson-level heights it tries to reach in many songs. And the production values are state-of-the-art for the time period, thanks to experts such as Pharell Williams / The Neptunes, or Timbaland--experts whose imprint is unmistakable on certain tracks. Take those funk-rock rhythms played on acoustic guitar for The Neptunes, or those lush, bass-heavy r'n'b shenanigans for Timbaland. Besides, there are a lot of arrangements that make listening to the album at least once worthwhile. And finally, "Cry Me A River" is a stellar earworm worthy of the best torch songs / break-up songs out there... THAT SAID, let's repeat it: there's only been *three* reviewers giving a 5/5 grade to this LP. And there's a good reason for this. This is the sort of album that was never aimed at people interested in the *big picture* when it comes to modern music genres ("modern" taken in the largest sense of the word here). And this as open-minded as a lot of the people on this app try to be sometimes (me included). Because "Justified" is first and foremost a mass consumption product, and a "music album" later. Everything else is secondary. The fact that, overall, said album holds out far better today than, say, Britney Spears LPs, doesn't make it less dated or more artistically relevant than the latter. If only because Britney left a more impactful cultural imprint than Timberlake through her *singles*, at least--as lame and cheesy as her albums were as a whole... Let's face it: the vast majority of people who bought *Justified* in 2002 will never have a phase where they will try to find what the 1001 most essential albums of all time are. They just go from one trendy pop craze to the next. They're just consumers, not music buffs. "...music buffs like most of us on this app", I'm tempted to add. We all have very different tastes in here, obviously. But I believe that what unites us is that we take the album format very seriously. It can't just be a "product". It has to speak to our "soul" somehow. To be clear, saying this does not come from an elitist stance. I'm certainly not judging Justin Timberlake fans--all of us here are also consumers to an extent, it's part of the music business overall. I'm only trying to be realistic. As a consequence, I consider it's just plain weird or ridiculous to include *Justified* in a list like this. Because this inclusion doesn't really mean anything to *most* of those Timberlake fans, who would never use this app for instance (or probably give up after 20 or 30 albums...). This realism I'm trying to apply here is the one that music sites such as Pitchfork have consistently failed to apply since the mid-naughts, because of their readymady "poptimist" philosophy--a quite artificial, shallow posture *fully* pandering to the worst parts of the music industry (PR shenanigans, label business plans, the heavy and quick "formatting" of up-and-coming artists and performers not lucky enough to have the means or entourage to defend their initial artistic integrity--at least if they had one from the get-go). I'm 100% sure that the way such poptimist stance has led "the most trusted voice in music" to condone so many cheesefest records has already returned to bite them in the ass today. Absolutely no one believes Pitchfork is "the most trusted voice in music" today, lol. Of course, business is part of our music habits, as it is part of the life of *any* "professional" musician and artist. Even the staunchest fan of "independent music" and niche genres should be aware of this. But business also "pollutes" everything it touches. Just like it does for nature. Good music is an ecosystem, you see. And including *Justified* in this ecosystem does it more harm than good. I like "pop music", I really do. But good pop music in the album format has to elevate or challenge you, even if it does it very subtly or discreetly. And in retrospect, it's clear that *Justified* does none of that. It's just a goddamn product, as well-manufactured as it is. Just bought a Britney Spears greatest hits compilation for three euros online after listening to this Justin Timberlake record. If I have to be a consumer and a "manufactured product buyer", I'd rather give up the pretense of an interest for "genuine artistry" altogether, and bob my head quite mindlessly to the more memorable Britney singles with a half-ironic smile on my face. It won't prevent me to enjoy off-kilter-yet-100%-sincere-and-"authentic" acts such as Robert Wyatt, Daniel Blumberg, Big Thief or Crack Cloud on the side. I can enjoy a burger once in a while, even if I prefer more soulful food. But I will never pretend that a Burger King product is akin to the best "cuisine" out there. Everything in its right place, please. 2/5 for the purposes of this list of essential records. Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2 - not so bad after all, huh?). Next, please. Number of albums left to review: 319 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 304 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 221 (including this one)

The only problem of this double album is its length. But at the same time, said length is an intricate part of the record's overall concept, going to a wide array of different genres: southern rock, country and country-rock, bluegrass, blues, latin-infused grooves and the usual CSN(Y) hippie stuff. And each of the four sides is dedicated to an overall theme, helping you find your way into those 21 songs. Stephen Stills and his friends shine as performer and instrumentalists from start to finish here. Now the question is: are the *songs* worth it? The best sides are side 1 and 4. On side 1 you have "Song of Love" and its catchy bassline and vocal hooks, lively "Rock & Roll Crazies / Cuban Bluegrass", followed by equally lively "Jet Set (Sigh)", plus moving "Anyway" or the Santana-inspired "Both of Us". And on side 4, there are "What To Do", "Right Now" and "The Treasure". By all means, don't miss side 4, it's got the best rockers in the whole LP, with some incredible build-ups -- it's just that this apex takes a while to come up after sides 2 and and 3. Indeed, side 2 is mostly displaying country / bluegrass tunes, which is a change of pace that might not be to the liking of a lot of listeners: three of them are quite boring extraneous cuts, yet it's also got the stellar "Colorado" fortunately, whose infectious chorus might linger long in your soul, along with the nice torch song "Anyway". Don't miss those as well. And the same criticism pointing out second-rate tunes goes to the mellow-rock soundscapes of side 3, with only smooth and elegant "Johnny's Garden" and early Moog-synthesizer-enhanced (!) "Moving Around" being worth a visit. I was tempted to give this LP a 5/5 grade, in spite of its relative share of fillers: since I count around 12 or 13 essential songs in this album (including atmospheric barebones closer "Blues Man"), it didn't seem like a stretch. There was obviously enough material in Stills for this one to write an "essential" single album, even if he chose to use the admirable personnel in this record for something much more sprawling (and consequently less cohesive) than that. The thing is, I've given a 4/5 mark to Curtis Mayfield's *Superfly*, also out in 1972 (maybe I was a little harsh on this one, come to think of it). So I got to preserve some sort of consistency somehow. 4 stars, then. But 4 star *+*, as this double album is still a keeper, particularly essential for anyone interested enough in the extended Buffalo Springfield / CSNY "family".

"Fuck and run, fuck and run, even when I was 17 / Fuck and run, fuck and run, even when I was 12". *Exile In Guyville* is filled with shocker lines like that, but it shouldn't divert your attention from how *elegant* Liz Phair's songwriting can also be at times. Phair knows how to craft a memorable song, both lyrically and melodically (see "Fuck And Run", "Glory", "Flower", and especially the stellar hooks of "Stradford-On-Guy" towards the end). Musically speaking, the tracklisting is a little patchy and indolent once in a while--especially in the first part of this record--and I'm always surprised reviewers rarely comment upon that "flaw". But keep on listening, by all means. Soon, you'll find your way into the bedroom-aesthetics displayed here, evoking a sense of intimacy very few records can pull off (sometimes disturbing, sometimes charming, sometimes both in the same tune). I never bought that selling point stating that this LP was a song-by-song response to "Exile On Main Street", by the way. To me, it's clearly an afterthought justifying the strange twists and turns in this album, going from MOR-so-called-"alternative" cuts to more leftfield or minimalistic ones. That selling point sure placed Liz Phair as a complex artist who had something extremely relevant to say about how sexist and prejudiced male rock musicians can be--a message that has lost none of its potency in 2024. Still, a lot of her songs, exploring her own contradictions, sheer impulses, and somewhat confusing aspirations, speak for themselves. No need to invoke the ghosts that the Rolling Stones had already become in 1993 to enjoy said tunes, even ironically. It sounds as if I'm partly criticizing Phair here, but I'm only underlining how fresh and "original" and personal and pertinent *Exile In Guyville* still sounds today. Its "lesser" tracks are not exactly "fillers", for instance, they're just part of a poetic patchwork-like structure that few artists can create. Oddly enough, sophomore LP *Whip-Smart* is much more cohesive AND dynamic, at least musically speaking. And yet it wasn't as praised as Phair's debut. I always found that quite unfair (un-PHair?). But I guess this situation says something about the particular impact this debut had for so many listeners. *Exile In Guyville* is a record where the whole is clearly more than sum of its discrete parts. And those are the albums you will always return to with a lot of pleasure, even decades after. If only because you will never fully solve their mystery. 4.5/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums" (rounded up to 5). Which translates to a 9.5 grade for more general purposes (5 + 4.5). Number of albums left to review: 317 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 306 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 221

This record starts off on a great note with its two first tracks, "Traveller" and "Butterfly". They're an enticing and flavored mix of Indian classical music and drum'n'bass displaying a lot of killer moments, with impressive and evocative performances from the sitar and flute players (not to mention Singh himself on tablas). The orchestral conclusion of "Traveller" is particularly worthy of note for anyone interested in said Indian music. Because said conclusion is tight, moving and cinematic in a way that transcends the somewhat "dated" electronic flourishes found elsewhere in this LP. A few years before the release of *OK*, Björk famously used Singh's stellar skills for orchestration on *Venus As A Boy*. Seems like Singh could still pull off something marvelous years later, at least when he had something clear to say, as "Traveller" and "Butterfly" can prove. Too bad he rarely knew what to say *under his own name* towards the end of the nineties. Because, yes, as great as those first two cuts are, I feel like the Anglo-Indian producer makes a bunch of weird choices when he attempts to apply the same formula during the rest of this record. In terms of relatively "striking" cuts "Monbastic" displays as a lead instrument the sort of muted trumpet that made Miles Davis famous. And "Eclipse" uses Qawwali vocals, which the rest of the world discovered thanks to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. The problem is that the conflation of those "noble" elements with EDM arrangements and production doesn't work so well, especially decades later. Some of the bleeps / bloops sounds even come off as a little grating on "Eclipse", distracting so much from the stellar vocal performance on this track. If really you want to discover Qawwali, start with the *real* thing, please. Another striking (and quite lively and charming) cut is the title-track, "OK", indebted to Bollywood-inspired vocal chants this time, and fortunately this *fun* track gels a bit better as it mixes said chants to bouncing jungle beats. But everything else (which means two thirds of this album at least) is clearly secondary, with attemtps that go from borderline-muzak-sounding, "illustrative" works ("Light") to ambient soundscapes ("Soni") and hard-electro meanderings ("Decca" and "Vikram The Vampire")--*all of them* leading to nowhere in particular. Closer "Vikram The Empire" is quite a symptomatic instance of this problem: Singh displays admirable production skills there (as elsewhere) but those skills are betrayed by a blatant lack of direction. And as a consequence, the instrumental comes off as a sort of bonus track instead of a proper all-encompassing capper for such an album--aiming at mixing sounds from very different parts of the world, but never in a fashion convincing enough to make you sense *why* it should be so vital to do so. To put it mildly, *OK* doesn't tell a cohesive story. It just throws disparate elements on the wall and hopes they will stick the landing. I can relate to the intents Singh had for this LP. But clearly, and minus two or three nice cuts here and there, I don't care for the actual results. "Global" sounds, even performed with a lot of talents in the room, shouldn't prevent you from conveying something truly personal and enlightning form start to finish. It's probably easier to say this than to pull it off for real. Yet one can't help feeling this record could have been far more than "OK" with a few different choices in mind. 2/5 for the purposes of this list of supposedly "essential" albums. Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2). I feel like I have *already* reviewed this album by the way. Hope I'm wrong and the 1001 albums generator isn't stuck on a loop for me--just like Talvin Singh sometimes is, lol. Because I intend to *end* this project. Number of albums left to review: 317 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 306 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 222 (including this one)

The first side of this LP alone warrants a place for Air in this list. Smooth and retro-sounding instrumentals "La Femme d'Argent" and "Talisman" take the best of the flavors once explored by the likes of Burt Bacharach, Serge Gainsbourg and seventies Italian movie soundtracks. "All I Need" (featuring Beth Hirsch on vocals) is admittedly an understated ballad, but its central hook can illuminate the grimmest heart. And "Sexy Boy" and "Kelly Watch The Stars" are timeless bangers drawing from disco, 70s soft-rock and 90s 'French Touch' electro in a particularly catchy and idiosyncratic fashion, with hypnotic-yet-lively basslines, and equally hypnotic vocal lines on vocoder. The second side is also quite good, even if a little hit-or-miss sometimes: "Remember" goes to the same soundscapes explored in side one, but comes off a little short in comparison--both because of its tiny length and predictable contents. The acid-jazz/lounge undertones of ballad "You Make It Easy" (also featuring Beth Hirsch) sound "dated" in a way that's less elegant than in other parts of the LP, in spite of some impressive arragements towards its conclusion. "Ce matin-là" fares far better, as if it was a classic cut once composed by Ennio Morricone for a police procedural during his seventies heyday (what a memorable melody on the trumpet!). And so does "New Star In The Sky", even if's a touch too long and drowsy at times. Excellent piano-and-vocoder bridge, though, and nice subtle orchestral flourishes in its second part. As for "Le voyage de Pénélope", it's an apt closer displaying a fascinating jazzy synth line à la Vangelis, and it sums up all the different moods in the record. It's another short track, but it manages to be both relaxing and enticing, both "funky" and oneiric. Not so easy to pull off, all things considered. *Moon Safari* is a textbook 4/5-star album for this app (translating to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes). It never tries to impress you *a lot*, because it's too busy having fun first. And those records are often the most endearing ones for a lot of listeners. So it's nice that *some of them* find their way in such a list. Number of albums left to review: 316 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 307 (including this one). Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 222

Call it a cultural blind spot, but I find it a little hard to focus on this record, even though it kind of works as "background music". Seems to me that the Ali Farka Touré LP recorded and co-signed with Ry Cooder--also in Dimery's book--is more accessible to my admittedly untrained ear than *Savane*. Untrained ear for traditional Malian music, at least... I can spot a lot of arrangements inspired by North American blues, for instance, just as I spotted them in that other album. But I would lie if I said those arrangements bring me closer to the emotions Touré probably conveys to his usual listeners. If anything, I think they even muddle the picture this time around... I've said it before, but maybe including full-length releases coming from outside of the American-European-Australian sphere does a disservice to everyone. Fans of "global sounds" (and their modern pop offshoots) will always think there's not enough room for their favorite recordings. And rock, rap and electronic music buffs might consider that this fistful of "world music" records are taking up critical spots for other favorite albums of theirs. So aside from such a list, you could have a 1001 best recordings list dedicated to the African continent, South and Central Americas, and Asia and Oceania. Plus, maybe, several shorter lists one for "classical" and traditional music from each continent. Of course doing this could attract its own share of criticism. But there would be a far more "equal" representation of music from all over the world. Because the maths are unavoidable here: after all, 1001 is a finite number, is it not? Hard to grade this record, as a consequence. I will give it a tentative 2/5 mark, translating to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes. (5 + 2) Number of albums left to review: 316 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 307 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 223 (oncluding this one)

Pop-industrial masterpiece. One starting with what sounds like an S/M "séance". Do I need to say more at this point? Yes, I do, because rarely have depression, perversion and self-hatred produced so many intense, aggressive, and, most of all, *catchy* moments, The first five or six tracks of this album are a perfect string of songs, with all sorts of uneasy electronic details and rhythmical flourishes finding their way into your brains like so many infected earworms (Those spiky sunth basslines! Those drilling sounds in the background! That time signature on "March of The Pigs"!). Over this hellish but highly seductive program, Trent Reznor sets no filters for his lyrics, for better or for worse. "Closer"'s chorus still sounds as gratuitous and offensive today as it was in 1994, but it's the overall energy and musicality of the music carrying this sick chorus which sells the whole thing. Drawing as much from Ministry and The Killing Joke as he does from Prince or that recent so-called "grunge" wave, Trent Reznor applies a musical program that is not also violent, haunted and anxiety-ridden, but also rich and highly flavored. After such a raucous start, the first half of the second side is even more stifling and claustrophobic--maybe even a little too much at times, admittedly. Yet you soon realise this claustrophobic dead-end of sorts was all on purpose when heartrending ambient instrumental "A Warm Place" surges to terminate that particular "downward spiral". Then, you start hoping that the sick, psychotic, drug-addled protagonist at the center of this record is going to find redemption at last. Alas, the last batch of songs slowly but surely place you into the boiling water again, with some of the best build-ups in the whole record--sometimes suggesting a little optimism in their first seconds, but then increasingly invaded by all sorts of unsetlling noises. Up until the finale "Hurt" (famously covered by Johnny Cash) ends the proceeding on one last desperate, but highly moving note. No wonder Trent Reznor became a film composer. *The Downward Spiral* might not fit with every listener's taste, but it's an impressive narrative, with the sorts of dynamic twists and turns that bear the mark of the best concept albums in the history of modern music. And it's a narrative mostly conveyed through effective soundscapes, memorable melodies, and a care for detail which easily place Reznor as a genius of the nineties. 5 stars, what else? Number of albums left to review: 315 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 308 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 167 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 223

I have already listened to this album, and the main takeaway I have about it is that Morrissey without the jangly guitar lines of Stephen Marr is not necessarily worth most listeners' time. I understand that it might be a little unfair to say so for a certain subset of British pop rock fans given that Morrissey had indubitably honed his singing skills by the time he reached his solo career phase. But if Morrisey *technically* sang better here than during his tenure as the frontman of The Smiths, you still have to deal with his quaint, stilted, overaffected phrasing in many songs from this LP, doing a disservice to his witty one-liners here and there. And let's face it, the music is, well, often *more* than competent, but not always as striking as the one that was played in *The Queen Is Dead*, *Meat Is Murder*, or *Strangeways, Here We Come*. Which does not mean that the Moz's new partners-in-crime Alain Whyte and Boz Boorer did not know what they were doing on a musical standpoint. Some of their drowsing, automatic-mode-written MOR pop rock compositions aged like milk, unfortunately, and the lyrics on those cuts aren't even sharp enough to save the day ("Spring-Heeled Jim", "Billy Budd"--very unfortunately placed in slots 2 and 3--but also nicely-arranged-but ultimately-empty borefests "Used To Be A Sweet Boy" and "Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning", the latter mostly memorable through its witty title and overall concept). Yet a majority of highlights with interesting chord changes and/or killer guitar arrangements keep the record listenable overall (opener "Now My Heart is Full", "Hold On To Your Friends", "The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get", the very pretty "I Am Hated For Loving", the "classic' homoeroticism of sardonic-yet-tender "The "Lazy Sunbathers", and the killer banger closer "Speedway", with its heavy drums and amplified guitar work hearkening back to the wonders of "How Soon Is Now"...). So the good still clearly outweighs the bad here. That said, does it do so to the point you would need to place *Vauxhall And I* in an "essential albums list"? The jury's still out on this one... Oh, and of course, Morrissey has always been an insufferable twat, that goes without saying--whether in his political opinions or in the much-documented ways in which he treats people around him during festivals and gigs. Which is why having his name written in full letters in such a list is also annoying to an extent. Yet I swear I tried very hard to judge this record for what it is. And the verdict is that yes, *Vauxhall And I* is a good album, in spite of its few shortcomings here and there. The thing is, 1994 had *so many* excellent albums that deserve to be in such a list (around 45 by my own personal count--yes, *45*!). Which is why adding someone so obnoxious to that list of talents might be ill-advised here, lol. I hope Morrissey fans can understand. But if they don't, chances are that they are a little blinded as to who their "idol" really is. Not to the point they share some of his stupid views, I hope. But I'm not so naive about it, some of Morrissey's *current* fans do share those views, unfortunately... 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5+3). Because it's still a good album, and probably the only decent contender for this list among Morrissey's solo LPs. Number of albums left to review: 314 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 308 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 168 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 223

Personal rule of thumb: I'm not inclined to include any live album, as good as it is, in my own list of 1001 "essential" albums. There are already too many stellar and important LPs missing in Robert Dimery's list, so I think you should leave some precious room for those instead. Besides, more than half of the songs in the original version of *Life At Leeds* are covers, and covers are certainly not the sort of thing The Who are remembered for today, as hectic as the performance for those covers is. That said, I *might* break my own rule of thumb for a couple of "particular" and unmistakably iconic live albums such as Nirvana's *Unplugged In New York* or Johnny Cash's *At Folsom Prison*. As hard as you try to follow rules, in the end, music appreciation will always be a subjective business, right? 😉 8/10 for this live album (5 + *3*). Number of albums left to review: 313 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 308 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 168 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 224 (including this one)

And here I was complaining about the overabundance of live albums in this list just because The Who's *Live At Leeds* popped up yesterday--taking up slots that could have better uses--when *this* surges today! I'm sure some fans of Metallica love this live "symphonic" version of their favorite guitar heroes' staple songs. And I'm sure doing this sort of "work" requires some flawless "technical" skills from everyone involved in this particular concert and recording. The thing is, *artistically" speaking, this project is just inept and overblown to ridiculous proportions (gosh, the sheer *length* of that album!). Worse, everything in this record is so damn predictable, artificial and ultimately *soulless*: those stadium-like crowd chants! The *performative* aspect of it all! The bland and heavy-handed symphonic orchestration reminding you of so many dumb Hollywood blockbusters! All due respect for the memory of the talented Michael Kamen, but he wasn't exactly a subtle film composer writing memorable themes anyway. No wonder he accepted the job and condoned this whole project. Plus, how many *recent* great acts in the metal genre have been ignored to leave some room for *this*? If only for this reason, true fans of this genre should be angered by the inclusion of this LP in the list. 1/5 grade for the purposes of this list of "essential" records. Call that a "protest grade". Which translates to a 6/10 grade for more general purposes (5+1). Because *S&M* so often straddles the line between merely "listenable" and cheesy that it's easy to lost count. Number of albums left to review: 312 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 308 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 168 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 225 (including this one)

You need at least *one* album by Gang Starr in such a list. The union of DJ Premier's legendary boom-bap prodution chops and Guru's "conscious" lyrics, uttered in a deep, precise voice with a high-class flow rarely matched in the hip hop world, is too good to go unnoticed. Trouble is, if only *one* Gang Starr album could be selected in such a list--because of a lack of "room"--which one would it be? Let's cut the suspense, here, sophomore album *Step In The Arena* is indeed one of the strongest contenders. Even its less "noticeable" cuts (less noticeable during a first, superficial listen, that is) are admirably well crafted, thought out and performed. And the highlights are simply stellar, enough said: there's the title track "Step In the Arena", but also "Check the Technique", "Take A Rest", "Just To Get A Rep". The last three tracks ("As I Read My S.A.", "Precisely The Right Rhyme" , and "The Meaning Of The Name") are even one of the most beautiful strings of songs ever ending a hip hop album. Creating a good build-up in a rap record, up until the very last minutes, is not so easy to pull off. DJ Premier and Guru make it sound as if it's only a child's game for them. Being very fond of Gang Starr's next album *Daily Operation* (where Premier sprinkles even jazzier moods than in *Step In The Arena*--still very much indebted to seventies funk and classic rock samples instead), I could be tempted to select that other LP and leave *Step In The Arena* aside. But no, I won't. Worst case scenario, I would personally select *both* records and leave it at that. Boom (bap)! Problem solved. 4/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 311 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 308 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 168 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 225

I remember having a tape of this rap band as a teenager and quite liking it. The first track of *Sex Packets* sure displays a very distinct and enticing "sound". Unfortunately, everything else after it can be filed as "more of the same, but less good". Plus, that particular recycling of P-Funk moods quickly became outdated by the one Dr. Dré applied for his own productions. So if *Sex Packets* remains an interesting record to listen to today, it's far from being "essential" in the overall history of hip hop. Not to mention in the history of music in the last seven decades or so. 2/5 for the purposes of this list, which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes (5+2). Number of albums left to review: approximately 300 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (including this one, many others are more important to me)

This one starts off with two absolutely great tracks, "(Well)-Dusted" and "Punishing Sun", subdued and subtle, but with stellar chord changes and a few gems on a lyrical standpoint. A little bit later, the sequence of songs "Shiver" (with its wink to "Walk On The Wild Side"), heartrending ballad "Dirty From The Rain" and atmospheric country-folk cut "Astonished (In Memphis)" is pretty convincing as well. Howe Gelb doesn't have a "spectacular" voice, but what he does with his lower timber serves those compositions right, even with some (endearing) frailties here and there on a technical standpoint. Unfortunately, a lot of the songs on the album, conveying the same exact sort of melancholic "confessional" mode, are somewhat "interchangeable". Moody and well-crafted for sure. But quite unobtrusive and generic as well. With its slow-yet-raucous distorted guitars, Nick-Cave-and-Lou-Reed-indebted "Satellite" attempts to wake the listener up in the middle of side two. Yet if that composition is decent, it's not exciting enough to elicit more than a passing interest in the song. Having this album popping on the app today reminded me I should also dig into Calexico's discography, since they're also from Tucson (and Burns and Convertino once played with Gelb). Giant Sand will have to wait until I reach that point. And I'm afraid that by the time I do so, there won't be any "room" left for them in my list. 3/5 for the purposes of this ranking, which translates to an 8/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: approximately 300 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (including this one, many others are more important to me)

Dinery's list missed *Mingus, Ah, Um", inexplicably, but at least it contains the post-bop / progressive big band masterpiece *The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady", thank goodness. Jazz has rarely sounded as wild and lively as in here, with so many crazy build-ups duriing the evocative dance pieces and atonal experiments found in this memorable record. The mere fact that Mingus' shrink wrote part of the album's liner notes speaks volumes (even if those notes are more a tongue-in-cheek joke than anything else). Not for the faint of heart, obviously, but 5 stars nonetheless. Number of albums left to review: approximately 300 (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately (including this one) Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me)

Suprised that Dimery's list doesn't contain Calexico's *The Black Light* or *Hot Rail* instead, but it is true that some of the gems found in *Feast Of Wire* also make the latter a very important release within the Tucsonian band's discography. In 2003, Calexico had already acquired a good reputation in French music buffs circles, thanks to their connection to relatively popular indie acts hailing from France (where I also come from). This might explain why *Feast Of Wire* feels like a "bigger" album statesides compared to France: because a lot of American people actually discovered the band because of *that* particular album. Truth be told, all three LPs from that trilogy of albums display the same assets, and also the same "endearing" flaws. The assets are that charming and well-crafted mix of indie-rock and tex-mex mariachi influences most of the other reviewers praised in this app. And the flaws are that the tracklisting of those records always seem a little topsy-turvy and disjointed to an extent, with a few instrumental interludes that don't necessarily go to any *precise* destination. Calexico's "pueblo" aesthetics imply that they rarely care about cohesiveness anyway, favoring loosely-shaped ephemeral pleasures instead. There's a French turn of phrase for said aesthetics, by the way: "auberge espagnole" ('Spanish inn'). You throw whatever you have in your hands onto the wall and then hope that the landing sticks somehow. In *Feast of Wire*, some of the things thrown onto the wall are worthy of a Michaelangelo fresco, fortunately. With its gripping and heartrending string section inspired by Arvo Pärt and Penderecki (!), "Black Heart" is one of those wonders, and it would be a crime not to listen to this song at least once in your life. The jury's still out as to whether the rest is "essential" within the confines of a 1001-best-albums-of-all-time list. But I do hope there will be room left for the album when I establish my own ranking at the end of this project. If only for that one jewel. 3.5/5 for the purposes of this list, rounded up to 4. Which translates to a 8.5/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 298 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 309 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 169 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 227

When I was younger, I thought I hated the fuckin' Eagles, man, just like the proverbial Dude. Turns out I just didn't know them well. They've *never* made a perfect album, but there might be a couple of LPs in their discography where the good clearly outweighs the bad--namely this debut and *Hotel California*. The question is, do those two records deserve to be in such a list, as benevolent and accepting as one might be inclined to think of them today? For 1972's *Eagles*, there's not a *huge* iconic song in it like the title track giving its name to the other album I've mentioned in my introduction up there. Yet there's an overall, wide-eyed, youthful energy *Hotel California* doesn't have in spades in comparison. A lot of reviewers in here have praised the three singles taken out of this debut album, "Take It Easy", "Witchy Woman", and "Peaceful Easy Feeling", and it's true that those three famous cuts have a special kind of quaint charm that makes them endearing today--plus, "Take It Easy"'s chorus is so memorable that it makes the song a perfect opener. But it's when Eagles's sense of adventure takes them to less "obvious" roads that the band becomes one that somehow masters the full-length format, at least when they succeed in alternating happy-go-lucky hits with more off-kilter pleasures... Case in point: Frey's rocker "Chug All Night". With its tense, minor harmonies on the verses, unexpectedly "solved" during the solar chorus that follows them, this song epitomizes a care for dynamics and effective "twists" the Californian band rarely forgot about when recording this LP. At this point, it doesn't even matter if the song's lyrics are a little hackneyed or trite. Sometimes clichés can be served with a nice chaser, and just like tequila, they become a treat instead of a chore. And when Eagles "rocked out", they had an energy that had little to do with their country-indebted tunes, as can be witnessed with "Chug All Night"'s cousins in the album, the great "Take The Devil" and "Tryin'"--aptly evoking the desert landscapes shown on the album's artwork. Funny how a lot of listeners often quickly forget such positive things to say about this band. But maybe the Dude smokes too much pot to remember any of it... Introduced by chirps and warbles, "Earlybird" is also a very lively moment, even if it's too mild to be a "rocker" per se. Written by Leadon and Meisner, this song proves that when every single member of the band took part in compositions, they had many trump cards in their hands--because it made the whole thing sound "varied" and all over the place, somehow, if you can mean such things in a good way. Last but not least, two of the more "country" cuts are particularly effective in this record. There's "Nightingale" closing the proceedings on side one. And most especially, there's the side two opener "Train Leaves Here This Morning", co-penned by Leadon with none other than ex-Byrds Gene Clark. Check the latter's own version of the song in the LP... *No Other*, by the way. If only because this album is a truly *stellar* one. To return to Eagles' debut, it seems that the *only* borefest in it is Frey's "Most Of Us Are Sad". "Textbook"-country rock is a large part of this record. Yet it comes as a surprise that only *one* song is boring because of this, and that the rest is still pretty convincing and even thrilling to an extent. Call it a miracle. Some people can go to Death Valley and live to tell the tale, after all. 4/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which translates to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 297 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 310 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 169 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 227

This is the story of how a second-rate gothic-rock, "postpunk" band became a *third-rate* hair-metal band. Which, obviously, is anything but an upgrade. Yes, of course, *Electric* sold a lot of unit shifters in 1987. But it only took three or four years for this hackneyed and heavy-handed album to become irremediably outdated. And thank goodness for that: it's good that general audiences did not linger in such bland and/or ridiculous territories for years on end, at least. Producer Rick Rubin has been a rather positive force for many acts of all stripes (from Beastie Boys to Johnny Cash). But here, one wishes he had abstained from taking part in such a wreck. Opener "Wild Flower" is still a *listenable* hard rock cut, admittedly. Yet everything after depends on your own personal mileage on "cornball, retro-moronic" stuff, to use the words of fanzine *Trouser Press*... Was about to give a quite benevolent 2/5 grade to this *thing*, if only because I didn't want to judge something *willingly* designed to be shallow and *mind-numbing-fun* (a-hem) in unneccesary harsh terms. But then I heard that cover of Steppenwolf's "Born To Be Wild"... Turns out that it's so BAD that its mere inclusion in the tracklisting took out a whole point from my initial grade for this LP. It's one thing to play corny or vulgar stuff in a somewhat competent fashion, just because it's supposedly "funny" or unpretentious to do so. But it's another thing to be insulting to large parts of your intended audience just by playing particularly unmusical arrangements, or pretending that your dumb groans and rattles could be considered as "singing" by anyone having a shred of good taste left in their soul. 1/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums". Which, quite frankly, translates to a 3/10 or 4/10 grade for more general purposes (5 *minus* 1 or 2). Next, please.... Number of albums left to review: 296 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 310 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 169 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 228 (including this one)

*Blonde On Blonde* is not only a work of genius. It's also an album filled with surprises. Oddly enough, this *long* record opens with what are probably the relatively "weakest" cuts in it ("Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" and "Pledging My Time" ). Guess Robert Zimmerman here personifies the jester that makes a sly joke on you right before offering a masterpiece whose scope is potentially infinite. Postmodernist, "carnival-like" art rarely gets better than this--intended "flaws" included. Besides, as "weak" as "Rainy Day Women" is compared to the myriads of stunning gems following it, it's still an instantly iconic opener for this double album, with its tongue-in-cheek, abrasive, free-flowing-harmonica-enhanced marching band shenanigans and its biblical/druggy double-entendre "Everybody must get stoned!", bellowed during the chorus. I wonder if this is where Cypress Hill got the idea for their song of the same name, by the way. Associating Bob Dylan and Cypress Hill in the same sentence gives me giggles, but with Dylan, unexpected connections will unavoidably surge, so vast is the scope of references and striking turns of phrase used in his songwriting, leaving an imprint in collective consciousness like very few artists ever did. I've only adressed the first song of this record as I'm writing this tentative review, and I've already penned two paragraphs. Quite odd when "Rainy Day Women" is not even my favorite song in the album, I have to say... No wonder so many authors produced mammoth essays, articles and books about Dylan. No wonder some university teachers can spend a year-long syllabus just talking about the man and artist. You see, the genius of Bob Dylan does not only lie in his stellar songwriting and performances--it also lies in the way he inspires others to write striking turns of phrase in their turn, and how his songwriting elicits so many interesting interpretations and memories. Take some of the 5-star reviews written for this app: "It's like a folk-rock *Ulysses* or something" says one reviewer. Also referencing James Joyce, and addressing Dylan's notoriously "difficult" and "unprofessional" singing, another reviewer wrote: "I really want to give this record 4 stars to punish it for having the vocals of an out of service oscilloscope, but fuck, it is too damn good. It would be like marking down a James Joyce novel because of his punctuation style." And concluding this comparison between *Blonde On Blonde* and Joyce's literary skills, one last reviewer tagged the record as a "poetic odyssey". Those comparisons involving Joyce are not only brilliant--they also sound legit, deserved, and totally heartfelt. The best homage you can give to the winner of a Nobel Literature Prize. Yet those raving reviews are not only about literary references, they also movigly evoke their writers' deep relationship with Dylan's body of work. As when this reviewer described a mystical, transcendent experience he went through as he listened to *Sad-Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands* while bed-ridden with the flu... Or when that other reviewer reminisced about once listening to the whole LP on a jukebox in New York and how such a mundane act might change your whole life... So rich is this album, so fecund, that it soon becomes a hall of mirrors where each and every listener can recognize their own soul being reflected in them. Truly "universal", in the first meaning of the word. Rather than "muttering small talk at the wall", I will abstain from attempting to describe how good *all* of those tunes are, and most especially *why* they're so good. Many reviewers using this app have already done so. You would have to pick one particular line, and say why it's so witty / hilarious / moving / interesting / mysterious / ominous / poetic / wonderful for another lengthy parargraph. You would have to compliment each excellent and effective guitar or organ or piano fill as played by Robbie Robertson, Al Kooper, Paul Griffin and all the other wonderful players in the album. You would have to praise the way in which Dylan uses certain arragements and smart chord changes in a large chunk of those compositions to make them go beyond their initial bues-rock / folk-rock templates, and this in a way that always enhances his vocals and lyrics. But as I said, other reviewers did this better than I could ever do it myself. All I can do is list the most legendary songs in this double-album (the first one ever in the histroy of "rock") and leave it for others to elaborate on them. It's true that the record only hits its *real* stride with the third track musing between the differences between impossible, ideal perfection and the all-too-human yet also "humane" frailty of life experiences--it's that simply terrific song "Visions of Johanna", with its incredible narrative arc (how striking are those lines from it singled out by another reviewer, by the way: "The ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face / Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place"). But if the *first* real gem comes up on track number three only, it's neverending fireworks after it: there's "One of Us Must Know"--probably one of my favorites Dylan tunes ever--, but also "I Want You", "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again", "Just Like a Woman", "Most Likely You Go Your Way and I'll Go Mine", "4th Time Around" and "Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowland"... And the songs I haven't quoted here are excellent as well anyway. Even "Rainy Day Women". As I said earlier, this review is tentative at best. It's hard to put into words what this record does, and this with *both* words and music. You can return to *Blonde On Blonde* for years and find new things to admire in it each time. Others have pointed this out elsewhere, but the cover of this LP nicely sums up how you can only approach this behemoth of an album through the most "oblique" ways. Just like that picture of Bob, sightly unfocused, everytime you think you're nailing what makes the record great, something else turns up, and the picture becomes slightly muddled again. Yet you can't help look at it, as mundane as the picture is--just like some of the music on it may seem mundane at first glance, only to reveal its treasures during the hundreds of subsequent listens that will inevitably follow. 5/5, what else? Number of albums left to review: 295 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 311 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 169 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 228

Interesting listen since I only knew Simon's 1972 solo debut and 1986's *Graceland*. A couple of moments in this LP foretell the "global sounds" of the latter, but *Hearts And Bones* is still very much a transitional effort. Worse, its "lively" cuts are plagued by the usual shameful eighties production shenanigans (gated drums, weird synths, disgraceful overproduced arrangements...) Fortunately, the intimate ballads mostly enhanced by Simon's delicate playing on his acoustic guitar (ballads such as the title track, "Train In The Distance" or "René And Georgette Magritte...") aged far better. No surprise here. That being said, the overall construction of this LP is utterly strange and pretty unconvincing, even with these good cuts in mind. The second half of the first side is a huge letdown, for instance, with its emphasis on the two-part song "Think Too Much": by the time you reach the synth-heavy "a)" section of this composition (inexplicably placed *after* "b)" AND another short track between the two), you feel like Simon is hammering some sort of obfuscated point home without ever justifying why said point should be so important for the listener. And the repetition of the mantra giving its title to the two songs even becomes grating. Don't think too much? Yeah, I've heard you the first times, Paul. Apply your own advice and don't overthink it, please! Don't get me wrong, I understand the "thematic" concerns about the opposition between heart and mind Simon feels so concerned about... Yet musically speaking, the whole thing is sort of a cheesy borefest, to be honest. I've just read that Art Garfunkel was supposed to sing with Simon on those tunes, initially, thus marking an umpteenth attempt to reunite the cantakerous old couple again. Seems like the two men's deep-seated resentment (and even hatred) for each other ruined everything before Simon ever had a chance to set his original plans into motion. Yet one can't help feeling that maybe Garfunkel was right not to associate his singing skills to this project. Compared to the two boys' heyday in the sixties, this thing would have probably sounded ridiculous if it had been released as a "Simon and Garfunkel" record. An interestion curio closes this LP, "The Late Great Johhny Ace". This song is interesting for lyrical reasons, because Simon here weaves a tapestry starting with Kennedy's assassination and ending with the one of John Lennon, turning the songwriter into a chronicler of the demise of the sixties' utopias (just like Bob Dylan recently was when he released his own "Murder Most Foul" epic). And it's interesting for musical reasons since Philip Glass composed the orchestral piece ending this song (and album), with his unmistakable flourishes--sweeping, repetitve and hypnotic for sure. Yet that's it. This record is never thrilling, only "interesting". And its flaws are too obvious today to make it an essential one anyway. As of now, it seems to me that only the 1972 solo album and *Graceland* can apply for that much-coveted position. So, next please... 2/5 for the purposes of this list of essential albums, which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 294 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 311 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 169 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 229 (including this one)

"I might come to a conclusion other than that which is absolutely necessary" and yet it's one that I want to utter in the same annoying, hackneyed and ultimately boring 'conversational' tone as the one Lloyd Cole uses in the opener of this record, and this conclusion is that blabbering each and every thought that pops out of your mind in an overaffected and histrionic drawl just because you are aroused by some girl who is herself "sexually enlightened by Cosmopolitan" doesn't automatically make said thoughts interesting or revelatory for most listeners--especially when the music over which you sing those banal thoughts is so bland, predictable and "middle-of-the-road" itself, not to mention produced with a blatant disregard for dynamics that could at least make up for how unoriginal the same music is, i.e. never as interesting as the one Johnny Marr wrote for the Smiths for instance, a good reference point to state how Lloyd Cole himself piles up misfires after misfires as a frontman, vocalist and lyricist compared to, say, Morrissey, another "histrionic" singer for sure, yet one whose eighties recordings can still mesmerize listeners today--contrary to Lloyd Cole, whose own "overkill" mode sounds like a total act and not something that comes out of his heart--and that's not even taking into account the frequent odd meters in his lyrics, as established earlier, suggesting that the man was so pretentious and full of himself that he thought each and every word he wrote should be uttered on a bar not fit to receive all of them, whereas just changing the phrasing or the choice of words could have been a more elegant solution, especially when said words often don't express anything precise or cohesive anyway, and when the way they are sung doesn't save them either--when the mannerisms and the pretense just ruin the few things that could have been salvaged on a musical standpoint--and if you feel like it's exhausting to read this long-ass paragraph complaining about *Rattlesnakes*, just imagine how utterly exhausting it was for me to listen to this dated and flat music for 50 minutes straight, which felt like two hours, honestly: all of this explains why Lloyd Cole doesn't "need my sympathy", and why "I wont read [his] poetry", to use the man's own words in "Charlotte Street", one of the rare cuts in this record that's *slightly* memorable, but which, very ironically, might just betray the fact that Lloyd Cole And The Commotions were themselves aware they could easily pass off as total bores for a lot of listeners not necessarily inclined to put up with the self-indulgence of their "sophistipop", an overall style from the dreadful eighties that was so awkward AND pretentious that it should probably be left in the dustbins of music history today, a few decades later, as competent and even "skilled" as the players are on this record (like that string section in the title-track, or in "Down On Mission Street", for instance--songs that are still listenable I guess, but more for their lush arrangements but for the compositions per se), because--let's face it--at the end of the day, bad taste is bad taste, no matter how good you are as a musician and a composer ; and sophistipop, often favoring style over substance, often made things worse in that regard, and if you add those odd meters and cruelly self-conscious lyrics, the whole thing becomes unbearable, once again, which is why with their jangle-pop energy played in the same early years of the eighties, the Smiths or REM could still improve such an initial "histrionic" formula at least, and this in ways Lloyd Cole And The Commotions never even seemed to consider for one second (except from that frankly awesome amplified guitar solo at the end of *Forest Fire*, admittedly, but once again it's another case of a great last-minute flourish in a song that doesn't show much in terms of hrilling elements elsewhere), and so all those missed occasions to write and perform something genuinely *good* probably explains why the record drags on and on with no precise destination in mind, just like this review, but also like a lot of the individual songs in the album, which often end on an unresolved note, especially on its second side--unresolved notes not even giving a somewhat mysterious undertone to the proceeding, only an "indifferent" one, just like a dead-eyed stare worthy of the one a dead-brained zombie could send you back right before you shoot its face off just to come out of this unfortunate encounter alive, and then forget about the whole thing just for the sake of mental self-preservation. Blah. Hated this record. Hope you can picture the reasons why I did by now. But if not, it's not even an issue for me, very honestly. And I rarely say that. So, next, please. 1/5 for the goals of this list, i.e. listing 1001 "essential albums" for me. Which translates to a 6/10 grade for more general (and maybe more "objective") reasons. (5 for competent playing + 1 for a couple of memorable moments pestered by an utter lack of taste and/or compelling dynamics). Number of albums left to review: 293 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 311 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 169 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 230 (including this one)

Lots of great reviews for this undoubtedly "essential" record, and the best one is *this*, here copied in full: "If the drum breaks, bass lines, and in-your-face horn sections couldn't push the revolution to victory, nothing was going to do it." Amen. Please press the "like" button for that one. If you're reading this, you've probably seen this other review before. Where shall I start myself? Well, at the beginning of the album, of course: title track and opener "Stand" is an anthem for the ages, yet one must also point out how "sly" and "stoned" that chord progression on its verses sounds for anyone rooting for off-kilter harmonies. Sorry, couldn't resist this bad pun. But seriously, when his heart was into it, Sylvester Stone could pull off very sophisticated-yet-"catchy" stuff out of his brains and hands. And I feel like music fans don't underline this enough. After "Stand" comes a track whose offensive title says so much about the demise of the utopias that had previously been embraced by the majority of the US population at the tail end of the sixties. Coming from a unisex, interracial band, such a concept for a song is edifying. And frankly (but also unfortunately), the lessons of that swampy bluesy cut about tensions between "races" have still not been fully learned in 2023. Get educated by the street-savvy wisdom of Sylvester Stewart, kiddies. It's "simple' wisdom, but the latter should always be in our minds. Next comes the insanely groovy jam of "I Want To Take You Higher", another cut for the ages, whose length could have been doubled, so terrific the result is. Man, that bass slaps, and so do the drums parts, the horn solo and the vocals! And that main hook on the guitar and bass between the jams! *Everything* slaps *hard* actually. Higher and higher and higher, you don't want that song to end. Probably one of the studio performances of the band that best represent how good they were live (see also the Woodstock recordings for that!). Boom-shakalaka-boom! That iconic mantra has been stamped in public consciousness for the decades that came after! Sure you must file it under "essential", right? "Somebody's Watching You" is probably a lesser, "lighter" track compared to the rest of the album, but its subdued tones and paranoid lyrics also foretell the darker moods of next album (and other masterpiece) *There's A Riot Going On*. And it allows you to catch your breath a little after "I Want To Take You Higher", at least. Next comes the one-two punch of "Sing A Simple Song" and "Everyday People" (closing side one and opening side two, if I'm not mistaken). "Sing A Simple Song"'s titular program is somewhat belied by how sophisticated the composition is, once again--it's actually a very "meta" song suggesting the listener should get his easy pleasures where he can in a world faced with some many "complex", systemic dysfunctions of society. Which is why where the major-chord climax "do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-ti-do" surges at the end of each chorus, it's nothing short of revelatory. I don't feel like I have to say much about "Everyday People", it's one of Sly And The Family Stone's most famous signature songs, and listening to it for the hundredth time doesn't take away how elating the vocals on its stellar chorus are. This is the song that best exemplifies how powerful Sly and The Family's rallying cries to unite folks of all stripes, races and creed could be. But it's also a smoooooooth and sweet tune, as powerful as its chorus is. And yet its lyrics are nothing but naff or naive if you pay attention to them--the woes of class struggles and unchecked capitalism are taken into account in the picture Sly Stewart is here painting for us. So "Everyday People" is not only iconic. It's also a cut that aptly sums up what Sly And The Family were all about. Anyone knowing this album a little knows that "Sex Machine", the moody and funky instrumental track that follows "Everyday People", is probably a little too loooooooong for its own good, as "evocative" as its build-up is (a-hem). Had this somewhat self-indulgent jam been replaced by the handful of singles released right after *Stand* (legendary "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)", but also "Everybody Is A Star" and "Hot Fun In The Summertime"), this album would have been *perfect*, enough said. After this relative misstep, *Stand* ends with yet another iconic track, fortunately: "You Can Make It If You Try" is part of that vein of optimistic hits that Sly And The Family Stones will always be remembered for. As pointed out earlier, next album *There's A Riot Going On* will explore the other, darker, coke-fuelled and paranoid side of that elated coin. But I guess that's a story for another time, kiddies. 4.5/5 for the goals of this list selecting the best LPs of all time, here rounded up to 5. Which translates to a 9.5/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 4.5). Number of albums left to review: 292 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 312 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 169 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 230

Whether it is acid-rock, psychedelic rock, or proto-hard-rock, one thing's for sure, the title-track taking up one side of this LP (side B) is surely a "historical" document, thanks to its instantly recognizable minor-key riff. I have a sneaking suspicion that said bluesy riff was nicked from other artists in the past, but I can't ascertain it as of now, and have neither the time nor the interest to dig any further to prove my words. Yet other rock musicians stole it from Iron Butterfly in their turn, with only a few changes in the notes here and there, that much is sure. What's hilarious is the initial meaning of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" (in the garden of Eden). Pot-smoking and enunciation issues can thus unite to create iconic pop-cultural moments. I doubt 17 minutes and an overlong drum solo right in the middle of those 17 minutes provide anything that this barebones song initially needed, though. And then, there's the other side of this record (side A), with its quite banal sixties rock dirges displaying rather disgracious vocals and pointless noodling on the organ, with its player desperately trying to ape The Doors' Ray Manzarek to boot! Note how this organ solo uses the first notes of "Light My Fire" *several times* at the end of "Most Anything You Want*, by the way--c'mon, weren't there other *less famous tunes* to plagiarize in 1968??? I mean, seriously??? Oh by the way, Wikipedia points *this* out: "[*In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida*] was the biggest selling album for the year 1969 in the US, although Billboard does not give any exact sales figures. For a number of years it was the biggest selling item in Atlantic Records' catalogue." For any "boomer" out there complaining about the heavy marketing of "bad music" these days, a friendly reminder: heavy marketing of bad albums has existed *since the beginning of "pop music"*. Many testimonies tell of the heavy rotation of Iron Butterfly on the radio during the sixties. Turns out they were the tree hidng a far more interesting forest when it comes to "psychedelic music". Because honestly, and apart from the overlong title track, this album is quite "meh". I get that a lot of folks who were teenagers during the sixties have some fond memories attached to this record. But as someone younger who yet loves this era, I think this album didn't age well at all, let's be a little honest for one second... 3/5 for the purposes of this list gathering "essential albums". Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general puposes (5 for competent playing + 2.5 for the title-track + 0.5 for the rest of the album). Number of albums left to review: 291 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 312 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 170 (including this one for "historical" reasons, but I highly doubt there will be room for it at the end) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 230

Didn't understand the Beatles comparisons routinely associated with *Skylarking* when I first got aware of the latter's "reputation", but I have to admit that I had only browsed through this album before, and now that I gave it a proper listen, I can see where so many people (and critics) drew that comparison from. With their lush string sections, sophisticated-yet-airy myxoldian chord sequences, and catchy vocal harmonies, "Ballet For A Rainy Day", "1000 Umbrellas", "Season Cycle", "Big Day" or "Dear God" sure have a Lennon/McCartney flavor to them. Just as I wrote it for my previous review of later half-succesful XTC LP *Apple Venus vol.1*, that doesn't mean Partridge and Moulding are exactly in the same league as the Beatles' legendary songwriters. Yet you would have to be tone-deaf not to hear the connection here. Apart from that, you have an interesting string of songs opening the album, namely "Summer's Cauldron", "Grass" and "The Meeting Place" (the two latter being singles for the album)--with a few moments in them rather recalling Brian Eno's pre-ambient-era pop rock experiments than anything Beatles (and maybe also reminding of album producer Todd Rundgren's own off-kilter endeavors in a somewhat similar pop experimental mode). Weird-yet-hypnotic short cut "Another Satellite" also made me think of circa-*I Love You* Beach Boys, when Brian Wilson's late seventies insanity brought him to unwittingly foretell synthpop shenanigans that didn't really exist before the eighties. And somehow, that endearing cut reminded me of Animal Collective as well. Evidence enough that there is something truly timeless in some of the songs displayed in this LP. Unfortunately, you also have a fistful of naff songs in it that are heavily indebted to far more overblown eighties aesthetics, such as "That's Really Super, Supergirl" or "Earn Enough For Us", in spite of rather groundbreaking production values elsewhere which conversely aged quite well. Worse, those sorts of tracks are just a pretext for XTC to exert their muscle memory and rehash their earlier pop-rock-by-way-of-post-punk highlights. Except that this particular rehash is nowhere as good as most of the tunes from *Drums And Wire* or *English Settlement*. And they don't really fit with the rest anyway. Add a couple of fillers into the mix, and that's one point taken away from the whole thing. Because beyond the letdown that those individual songs are, they also hurt the album's momentum in several crucial points of the tracklisting. That said, I admit I was still pleasantly surprised by this record overall, contrary to the earlier admittedly superficial listens I had given it. Turns out I pushed the "like button" for some of the 2-star and 3-star reviews on this app before I got the chance to revisit the album myself. It's something I shouldn't have done. Hence why I won't hesitate to give at least four stars to this thing, to make up for that blunder. So if you want to help me repair my mistake, please push the "like" button as well for my own review, ha ha. 😉 A few words about "Dear God" to end my tentative blurb now: once again, this complaint about organized religions is not really up to the level of John Lennon's own gem about the same topic from *Plastic Ono Band*, as another reviewer estimated in here. But c'mon, it's still a great song, both lyrically and musically (that final climax!). I've just read on Wikipedia that this tune--missing from the first version of this LP, and then quickly added to it thanks to its success as a single stateside--has been placed between "The Man Who Sailed Around His Soul" and "Dying" for the 2016 release. And honestly, it's right where it should go, instead of the last slot, as on the Spotify link given in this app (and also in the previous releases). Having it at the very end made it look like a last-minute addition that stuck out like a sore thumb. Now you feel like "Dear God" is truly part of the overall "program" offered by this loosely conceptual album. Not sure if such a concept about "cycles" is that deep or enlightening in the long run. But as long as the music supporting it goes from decent to excellent, I see no reason to complain here. 4/5 for the purposes of this list, translating to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes (5+4). Number of albums left to review: 290 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 312 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 171 (including this one, and I swear I will try hard to place it in a high position in my own sublist) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 230

I've often said in my reviews that I'm not too much into country or country-rock, but it seems *Car Wheels On The Gravel Road* is one of the (stellar) exceptions to this rule of thumb, which proves the reputation of this record is well-deserved (at least for me). Maybe it's because of the overall "sound" of the album, very much indebted to nineties alt-rock as well, or because of William's voice--rough around the edges in ways that I usually love, and reminding me of other "alternative" artists such as Lisa Germano. Or maybe it's just because of the great songs and instrumentations--catchy on the surface, but also displaying some interesting textures for the genre once in a while--accordion and/or quite noisy electric guitar riffs played by expert musicians around Lucinda. And the lyrics are so damn evocative: you really feel like you're sharing the routines of distraught young or middle-aged women living in the deep south, stuck in old houses with a quaint charm sprouting out of fields in the sticks, going from boyfriends / husbands doing time in jail to other deadbeat alcoholic boyfriends met in seedy dive bars, or visiting piss-poor friends and their families in the neighboorhood. "Leaning against the railing of a Lake Charles bridge / Overlooking the river, leaning over the edge / He asked me; "Would you jump into the water with me?" / I told him: "No way baby, it's your own death, you see". Those lines ending " 2 Kool 2 Be 4-Gotten" are just one example of how evocative those lyrics can be. There's not a single dud in this LP, at least if you take it as a panorama of all that country-rock has to offer when it's aptly written and performed. Sure, you have some unavoidable musical and lyrical clichés here and there, but the latter are always served with some tasty gravy on the side. Some isolated diners found on the road can sometimes serve you meals as memorable as the ones of fancy restaurants, as "simple" as those meals can look on the menu. Because *all* those songs have something valuable to bring to the table, and the dynamics of the tracklisting, the way those cuts displaying so many different moods are following each other, create one of those records that are always a "joy" to return to. The lively jam of the penultimate song bearing that name is one of the highlights of the album by the way, and so is the simple-yet-heartfelt acoustic ballad "Jackson" closing the proceedings. And speaking of highlights, opener "Right In Time", the title-track, " 2 Kool 2 Be 4-Gotten", along with that other acoustic ballad "Concrete And Barbed Wire" and that killer cover of Randy Weeks' "Can't Let Go" are not to be missed as well. So I'm delighted to add Lucinda Williams to my list of "exceptions" when it comes to country and country-rock (Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, The Flying Burrito Brothers, along with some strings of songs by Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton or Marty Robbins). And I'm ready to leave a huge tip on the table. 5 stars then. Number of albums left to review: 291 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 313 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 171 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 230

I'm in two minds about the inclusion of this album into the list. On the one hand, it's well-crafted hip hop from the golden age of the genre, with a lot of topical points mixed with the expected braggadocio, and the whole is still relevant or at least interesting to hear today. The DJ Muggs-produced cuts are unmistakable, and they provide a fun listen. On the other hand, I feel like there's not much in the record that hasn't been heard elsewhere, and often in an even more striking fashion. Musically speaking, what DJ Mugg produced for Cypress Hill or House Of Pain is surely more memorable than his work for Ice Cube, for instance--as good as said work is. And lyrically speaking, you had rappers who went further and better when they explored the topics Ice Cube is exploring here. Maybe it's my *relative* bias against west-coast rappers influencing me too much in this case. And maybe it's because the rich history of hip hop is not limited to this "golden age" and particular place in the US, which means that other times and geographical areas "represented" in the genre should be included in this sort of list. Singles "It Was A Good Day* and "Check Yo Self" are admittedly nicely done. But the whole shebang is surely "dated" for younger ears, and it's not as if the record was truly groundbreaking in any sense at the time (contrary to NWA's *Straight Outta Compton* or some Dr. Dré-produced records--closely related to Ice Cube, of course, and featuring him in many instances). The thing is, hip hop evolved extremely *fast* in those years. Wu Tang Clan released their debut the year after, and it wouldn't be long before acts such as Outkast, Snoop Dog or Eminem changed the game, once again. When facing such formidable competition, I'm not sure there will be room left for any Ice Cube records when I reach the end of my own list. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of essential albums. Which translates to an 8/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3) Number of albums left to review: 290 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 313 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 172 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 230

Funny that I had to read the reviews on this app to now realize how much of an influence Stevie Wonder was on Jamiroquai. The latter's hits were unavoidable on European radios during the nineties, you see (American friends in this group might not have been aware of the ubiquitous popularity of Jay Kay and his musicians across the pond at the time). Yet to me, what that band was doing was just cheesy commercial ditties with obvious earworm characteristics, never eliciting more than an ironic snarl on my part. Now that I've discovered Stevie Wonder's stellar seventies discography, I admit that I've started to wonder if I could take Jamiroquai a little more seriously. It seems so obvious now that this act was just following a soul-funk tradition I didn't know much about at the time. And since I've recently warmed up to said tradition, maybe it was for me to reassess what I originally thought about that act. The thing is, there will always be a huge difference between skillful imitators aping geniuses and the geniuses themselves. Stevie Wonder had a knack for incredible chord sequences and wonderful textures, at least in his run of gems starting with *Talking Book* and ending with *Songs In The Key of Life*. To be candid about what I think Jamiroquai were doing one decade and a half later, it's the sort of knack their musicians and composers rarely display, I'm afraid. What's missing is a truly creative spark going beyond the formula that was used for the two hit singles opening the album. The latter are still catchy jewels today, I'm not gonna lie, and there it does feel like Stevie Wonder could have written them (most singles from Jamiroquai's next two LPs also convey this sort of miracle, by the way--evidence enough that this formula was well-thought out at least). And the title track and "Revolution 1993" convey very intense and contagious energy at times--suggesting that Jay Kay and his mates might have been a treat to see live on a purely "technical" and performative standpoint. The rest is quite "meh", however. A lot of the compositions sound lazy to me, and so do a lot of the lyrics, as "conscious" and topical some of them try really *hard* to be. Worse, the instrumentation is often all over the place, with all sorts of innocuous and awkward funky licks on guitar, synths, horns and whatnot, all of which soon start to cancel each other, as if thrown onto the wall in a haphazard fashion, and therefore giving no rhyme nor reason to their presence in the mix. As a result, a lot of those jams sound interchangeable to me, and the vocals rarely elevate them to a genuinely exciting proposition. Stevie Wonder's seventies "deep cuts" very often had something thrilling or endearing or interesting in them. Here it's the contrary, up to the point where Jay Kay and Co.'s own deep cuts often borders on muzak (or elevator music). Finally, what I also found a little grating as I listened to this album was its relative lack of "identity", both on a sonic and a songwriting level. A lot of style, and not much real substance. You can't take Jay Kay's calls for "revolution" seriously, for instance. His music is too "happy-go-lucky" for that--and too formulaic, also, in spite of the topsy-turvy arrangements on it, very ironically. There's no real "tensions". No real stakes. No real... soul. Interestingly, this album starts and ends with a didgeridoo sound, in a somewhat vain attempt to create a distinctive "mood" that would go beyond the expected soul-funk-mellow-pop proceedings found everywhere else in the record. But as such, this colorful addition is merely a gimmick, and not an element making a lot of sense or leaving a memorable imprint in your mind. And this as supposedly "fun" and lively as the last track displaying that didgeridoo sound is. Like all the other gimmicks in the album, it's one that suggests the going-ons of a mind-numbing party pillaging "cool" ideas from the past without ever giving back something relevant in return. You can even end up doubting that real flesh-and-blood partygoers are enjoying this party, if you see what I mean. The album is *too slick* for that. And conversely, it's also too gratuitous and confusing at times. And those characteristics only add to the overall stifling effects of the music, unfortunately. Flesh-and-blood characters also need to *breathe*, you see... Really hoped to discover something I had missed for no valuable reason when I was younger (reasons going from snubbery to lack of openmindedness or sheer ignorance...). Maybe I still have those flaws and I'm lying to myself. Or maybe those flaws are *within* this record, and it's the old fans of the latter who just fail to see them for what they are. In the end, all I have is my subjective reckoning to solve this equation. And what my own reckoning tells me is that *Emergency On Planet Earth* is *not* an essential album--"cultural appropriation" or not, and as "professional" and "competent" as this record is overall. 2.5/5 for the purposes of this list, rounded up to 3. Which translates to a 7.5/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 2.5). Number of albums left to review: 289 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 313 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 172 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 231 (including this one)

I don't know what to say... This live hard rock record is quite dumb and cheesy, but also fun, in a way. As it is fun to finally discover where the Beastie Boys stole the "This next one is the first song on our new album!" vocal snippet opening their album *Check Your Head*. Always thought one of the Beasties did that vocal skit. And never realized that the *original* "first song" was actually Cheap Trick's "Surrender", a power pop tune for the ages if ever there is one. Yet this doesn't necessarily mean this record should be automatically deemed as "essential". To be fair, I can't fathom why the songs on this live album were such a huge success compared to their studio versions, whose overall sound is still better than the one on this particular LP. Maybe it's because the latter has been marketed as a kind of "greatest hits" at the time, in spite of the convenient legend saying that it was not seriously promoted by the band's label at first. Or maybe it's because of the performance of this specific concert, even if what was supposedly memorable in said performance completely went over my head, if I'm honest about it all. One thing's for sure, "Surrender" is still a great track, whether played live or in a studio. And so are "Big Eyes" and "Need Your Love", as hackneyed and naff as their lyrics are. Yet, once again, should their live versions be favored just because *At Budokan* was Cheap Trick's commercial breakthrough in a year now mostly remembered for plenty of classic rock, prog rock, punk, and post-punk artists that had nothing to do with Cheap Trick's self-indulgent, shallow pleasures. And those neverending screams of Japanese girls in the audience now sound quite grating on a purely sonic level, and even a little embarrassing--especially juxtaposed to the boyish concerns of the lyrics written for most of these songs. Finally, the artwork is ugly as f*ck. Yeah, I'm gonna leave the benefit of the doubt to this one, but as of now, I'm far from being fully sold. So what's next now? Peter fr*gging Frampton? 3/5 for the purposes of this list. Which translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. (5+3) Number of albums left to review: 288 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 313 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 173 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 231

Here I was looking up why there were quotation marks surrounding the title of this record on Wikipedia, and before I could even realize what I was happening, I fell into an endless rabitt hole filled with interesting tidbits from all over the world--tidbits about the history of Germany, the Berlin wall, about the nazis, the soviets and the cold war, but also information about Krautrock, or about the painter Heckel (whose "Roquairol" inspired the artwork), or about what sort of instrument the Japanese koto is, since Bowie plays it on the wonderful ambient instrumental "Moss Garden, and also how you can play said instrument. Those online adventures sum up why David Bowie is such a monument. Everything he did was at the crossroads of so many important traditions or legacies. I'm still not fully sure about why there were quotations marks around the "Heroes" title (the explanation Bowie gave--that it was some sort of irony on the concept of heroism--is flimsy at best). But it doesn't matter. Like so many Bowie LPs from the seventies, "Heroes" is "special". Hence the quote-unquote thing. What makes the album so special is also the epic title-track, obviously, and how its gradual 5-minute build-up reaches the sky like a V2 rocket. Eno and Robert Fripp's contributions on the song are stellar, and so is Bowie's performance. Its vocal melody, and intricate instrumentation make it a composition or the ages, literally speaking. And its lyrics tell a timeless yarn of hope and resilience in the face of adversity, perfectly summarized by this image of a young couple kissing at the foot of the Berlin wall, which famously inspired Bowie to write the song. It's just mind-boggling learning the single was not an immediate success at the time. But when you think about it, it makes sense: Bowie was sometimes so ahead of the game that it often took years for general audiences to catch up. Speaking of "ages", moody "Sons Of The Silent Age" is another great song in this LP, with many catchy moments in it. Conversely, the two tracks opening the album, "Beauty And The Beast" and "Joe The Lion" are admittedly a little linear, messy and rough around the ages, and so is "Blackout" at times--explaining why I would take a half-point to the perfect grade I usually give to Bowie albums from the seventies. Within the "Berlin Trilogy", *Low* is admittedly the most successful endeavor, and *"Heroes"* will always suffer from this comparison. Even if Bowie's passionate vocal histrionics ultimately save those less striking cuts from being left aside, very fortunately. And then, there are the ambient instrumentals written and recorded under the guidance of Brian Eno for the second side--following the exact same template found on *Low*. "Sense Of Doubt", "Garden" and "Neukoln" go from groovy to ominous, and from nicely pensive and meditative to heartrending and tense (that saxophone free-jazz-indebted solo Bowie plays on "Neukoln"! So tense and cinematic!). Some critics argued that *"Heroes"*'s intrumental side is less "cohesive" than the one on *Low* as a result of this broader scope. But I think the fact this second side explores more varied moods compared to its *Low* counterpart is actually an asset. Especially since Bowie, Eno, and producer Tony Visconti had the brilliant idea to end said second side (and album) with a proper song this time--catchy "The Secret Life Of Arabia", probably the second best tune in the whole album, right after the title-track. Therefore, and even with its minor flaws, *"Heroes"* is still a "classic" David Bowie album. Its few valleys are forgivable, and its peaks are as legendary as the ones found on the previous LPs released by the British rock star. 4.5/5 for the purposes of this list of essential albums, rounded to a perfect 5. Which translates to a 9.5/10 grade for more genral purposes (5+4.5). Number of albums left to review: 287 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 314 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 173 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 231

Gonna start with a neutral 2.5/5 grade because of how supposedly groundbreaking for the genre of thrash metal this album was in 1986. Then I'm gonna add bonus or penalty points depending on the flaws and assets I perceive when I listen to this record. We'll see where that leads me in the end (I honestly have no idea of the final grade as I'm writing those words): Incredibly virtuosistic guitar solos: +1. I'm not keen on gratuitous virtuosity, but I have to admit those solos are impressive and even pretty fun to "follow". One critic even compared them to Jackson Pollock's "drippings". An apt comparison. Current score: 3.5. Rick Rubin's *dry* production values: +1. A welcome corrective to the awful overblown production values in this genre during the eighties. It would take years for similar acts to catch up. This allowed *Reign In Blood*'s *sound* to age quite well (as "dated" and "cliché" as the *music* on it is today, admittedly). Current score: 4.5. The lyrics of *Angel Of Death*: -1. The real issue here is not to say that Slayers are "nazis". They collaborated with Ice-T's Body Count, for instance, and I don't think that collab would have gone on well if they were indeed admirers of the swastika. As Wikipedia points out, the band's members stated that they did not condone Nazism and were merely "interested" in the subject. Here is the sort of fascination for "evil" you can find in Joy Division and Motörhead, and I have no real problem with it, as limited and immature as that behaviour is. But it's the "way" that Slayer tackle that particular subject that is pretty stupid and, let's face it, totally irresponsible. Current score: 3.5 (A quick aside on that subject: "Angel Of Death" being a *first-person account* of Dr. Mengele's atrocious acts in Auschwitz, Jeff Hanneman's lyrics did not need to establish that Mengele was a monster, as Hanneman himself remarked. Everyone with a shred of intelligence and decency left in their souls knows it, of course. But just going for cheap thrills with a detailled account of Mengele's infamous tortures of his "patients", without anything in said lyrics conveying the bigger picture that the Holocaust is, is turning this heavy subject into a scary joy ride at Six Flags, or into an entertaining spectacle found in a cheap horror/gore B-movie. Worse, it can allow *genuine* nazi scums with brains the size of a pea to have fun and celebrate the memory of Mengele. Which is dumb as a bell. I'm not saying music should always be "moralist" or fully "responsible". But there should have been something in the lyrics preventing real nazis to enjoy the song. Like, I don't know, presenting Mengele as an inadequate character for a normal job, and who had no real "power" apart from the pain and death he inflicted on his victims. A couple of lines about that would have been enough, and they wouldn't have veered the initial "provocative" tone of the song off-course. This is not something Hanneman had given a lot of thought about, unfortunately. I know *some* metalheads are not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but jeeze, connect you brain cells a little. Unless you have no problem being associated with nazism. But in that case, you have no brain cells left in your skull anyway. So don't complain if outsiders of the genre call you out with a few unpleasant monikers, please. You reap what you sow). Back to my bonus points / penalty points now... The odd meter of the lyrics, not fit for the bars that welcome them (and the resulting lack of enticing or merely effective rhythm in the vocal parts): -1. In all honesty, this is an issue pestering a lot of "classic" thrash metal albums (see the early Sepultura LPs, for instance). But it's not because fans of the genre are notoriously deaf to that aspect that I'm gonna refrain from giving that penalty point. Please, Slayer fans, understand that this is probably one of the features of thrash metal that are always gonna be off-putting for most listeners, even those interested in "extreme", aggressive genres. It's a problem that has been solved by other sub-strands of metal, fortunately... Current score: 2.5. The lack of variation in the compositions: -1. Always the same tonic for the chords, aside from a few lazy modulations, always the same fast-paced pattern on the drums and the muted-palm thing on the guitar... And most chords are interchangeable anyway. It's annoying as f*ck. Other "repetitive" styles can be redeemed by other elements in the songs (example: the energy of the vocals for punk and hardcore-punk). But as said earlier, the vocals are just meh here. Nothing to save most cuts between "Angel Of Death" and the title-track from oblivion. What you have here is basically the same song *times ten*. Current score: 1.5. The evocative, expressionistic artwork of the cover: +0.5. Can't give a full point for that, because it doesn't change anything to the music... but metal albums covers showing *genuine* artistic flair are quite rare. So I had to take that artwork into acount somehow. Current score: 2. Can't see any other redeeming elements in this album, though. Is 2/5 my final score? Maybe not, because I found this on Wikipedia: "When asked why *Reign in Blood* has retained its popularity, [Slayer's Kerry] King replied: "today, no one would give a shit. It was timing; it was a change in sound. In thrash metal at that time, no one had ever heard good production on a record like that. It was just a bunch of things that came together at once." We're going back full circle to my first bonus point about the album's production values, and I could almost give a 0.5 point to King (and by extension, to Slayer) for being so lucid and even humble about the whole situation. Indeed, no one would give a shit if this album came out today. And this avowal also suggests that *Reign In Blood* sounds pretty dated by today's metal standards, which is a little problematic for genres supposed to thrill or even "shock" their audiences--as if the edge of your knife wasn't so sharp anymore, to use a metaphor I've already used before, albeit for different reasons... Adding that 0.5 point, actually. Just to state that I understand that this record is "objectively" important, even if I wll probably never listen to it again.. Do I round up to 3, now? I will, only to underline how fitting the current global score of this thing is, as "important" as *Reing In Blood* is to some ears. Because this record's existence doesn't elicit anything to me beyond giving it bonus and penalty points. It makes me "feel" nothing. Which is why, in the end, a "neutral grade" is perfectly suited for it. To paraphrase "Piece By Piece", "No emotions, *maths* are all I see". Number of albums left to review: 288 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 314 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 174 (mostly for "historical" importance, but I doubt there will be rrom left for it ine the end). Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 231

A significant act foretelling many later developments of the "rock" idiom taken in its largest sense, which is why it is still remembered today, I guess. Compared to debut *Psychocandy*, this one is more restrained and less noisy, obviously. Oddly enough, you don't really feel like the first album had a real drummer (Primal Scream's Bobby Gillespie), and this one had a drum machine, ha ha. Those horrid eighties "gated drums" aesthetics are to be blamed here, that goes without saying. Apart from that, a cool LP, drawing as much from the Velvet Underground as it draws from the Beach Boys. The best of both worlds for me (and probably the *worst* of both worlds for some other listeners, lol). 4/5. Number of albums left to review: 288 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 315 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 174 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 231

Got aware of Graham Massey and his electronic band 808 State through Björk, since the man co-wrote the music of "Army Of Me" and "The Modern Things" on *Post*. *90* was released six years before that, and listening to it, it's not hard to understand how groundbreaking this record was for the whole acid-house genre. Lush textures and adventurous forays abound, and 808 State rarely dig the same groove twice. Which, in this particular genre based on *repetition* is rather commendable. So just like what LFO (another act harbouring a Björk collaborator) did to darker, more minimalistic strands of "house music" when they released their debut *Frequencies*, Graham Massey and co. accomplished something extremely valuable in the field of electronic music. They made it sound vital AND digestible in an album format at the same time. And that's quite a feat when you're playinng those styles. The highlights on 808 State's subsequent albums (*ex:el*, *Gorgeous* and the criminally underrated *Don Solaris*) are even *more* impressive, by the way. Unfortunately, the tracklisting on those later records is also admittedly bumpy--always with a few outlier cuts that are far from matching said highlights. In comparison, *90* is a much more cohesive and *tight* listen. Each track perfectly flows into the next, even if *all of them* explore very different moods--you're never quite sure of what you can expect, and yet the left turns still make a lot of sense. So yeah, why shouldn't we select this one? I still think that compared to *90*, the first half of *Don Solaris* is near-perfect, though. Give it a listen if you're interested in electronic music in the broadest sense of the term. For that last LP 808 State released during the nineties (not counting B-Sides and remixes compilations), the band went far beyond acid-house--they also successfully tampered with abstract hip-hop, pop-rock, drum'n'bass, big beat, steel drums and steel guitar samples, among many other things. The second half of that 1996 album loses the stellar momentum built up in the first, hence why you can't call this other LP *cohesive*. Yet the sounds on it aged a little better than the ones on *90*, I think. *90* still had one foot in the eighties, you see (it's sort of implied in the title, right?--this record references the decade to come, yet it was still released in *1989*, mind you). It's nice that 808 State pointed the way forward, yet they couldn't *fully* get rid of a few "clichés" here and there. At least, the album sounds less "dated" than New Order's *Technique* or Johnny Marr and Bernard Sumner's *Electronic* project. When referencing that particular British "genre" (and the years said genre thrived), anthology lists always quote those two albums. *90* is rarely quoted, though, and honestly, it is clearly a notch above both of those records. Which is why I'm glad Björk made me know this album and the band that released it. You can always count on her and her insatiable quench for interesting collaborators to discover other great artists. 3.5/5 for the purposes of this list of essential album, rounded up to 4. Which translates to a 8.5/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3.5). Number of albums left to review: 287 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 315 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 175 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 231

An "avalanche" of stellar compositions, striking moods and darkly poetic lyrics. That album opener, bearing the name I've just put between quotation marks, is probably one of the most dramatic things Leonard Cohen has ever played, thanks to its obsessive acoustic guitar arpeggios and minor-key-yet-majorly-cinematic string orchestrations. No wonder Nick Cave covered it by the way (in a quite disturbing "punk" fashion). On the "literal" other side of this great record, "Famous Blue Raincoat" is certainly one of the most heartbreaking melodies the Canadian songwriter has ever written, which is saying *a lot*. And in between (or after) those two cuts, "Avalanche" and "Famous Blue Raincoat", a string of gems: "Last Year's Man", "Dress Rehearsal Rag", "Love Calls You By Your Name" and "Sing Another Song, Boys". In the middle of the dark, dark beads making up that necklace, the ephemeral moment of levity the mock-reggae and out-of-tune lead vocals of "Diamonds In The Mine" supposedly bring to the whole affair sticks out like a sore thumb at first. But listen closely to the lyrics and the raucous voice of Leonard, here in a rare exaggeratedly expressive mode, and soon you'll understand that there's as much passion in this cut as there is on the other ones. The apparent self-deprecatory façade is here so aptly translated to the music itself, you could easily blink and take the whole thing as face value. But the lyrical and musical posture found here also betrays an awareness of the deeper pains that lie behind such a "play". And make no mistake, that pain is the same as the one found in the seven other songs. An avalanche of high art indeed. Number of albums left to review: 286 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 316 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 175 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 231

I own all the Byrds albums from *Mr. Tambourine Man* to this one (in a CD format). But as fate dictated, there was no room left for *Sweetheart Of The Rodeo* on my shelves. Given that this record is secretly a "Gram Parsons And The Byrds" record, I took this as a sign from the gods of music and placed the CD on my smaller "country / country-rock" shelf. Admittedly not as meticulous AND charming as Gram Parsons' next adventure with The Flying Burrito Brothers, this record is still an endearing historical document as one of the very first examples of "country-rock". What's interesting is that if you focus your attention away from all those pedal steel guitars parts (so ubiquitous in this album that they verge on being annoying at times), you soon realize that the songs are far more diverse than they sound on first listens. Moments where you can recognize the previous version of The Byrds are nice, for instance--thanks to their flower-power vocal parts, partly hidden by all the C&W twangs and wizz. Apart from the two Bob Dylan covers bookending this record, and the two Gram Parsons compositions on side B, everything else is covers of mostly country stuff I don't know much about. The Bob Dylan and Gram Parsons tunes are the clear highlights of *Sweetheart Of The Rodeo* tough. Dylan's original versions of " You Ain't Going Nowhere" and "Nothing Was Delivered" would only be revealed with the eventual release of *The Basement Tapes* in 1975. But "A Hundred Years From Now" was a song specifically written for this album, even if Parson's vocals were "erased" from it--officially for contractual reasons. And it's a country tune for the ages. 4/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential" albums. Which translates to a 9/10 grade, partly for "historical" reasons (5 + 4). Number of albums left to review: 285 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 317 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 175 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 231

Reading the "Reception" section of the Wikipedia page for this album, my jaw went all the way down to the floor. It's not that this album is utterly bad, apart from one truly awful cut (more on that later)--it's just that it's so... innocuous overall. The heaps and heaps of praise given to it sound unwarranted today, very honestly. The record starts with a lethargic 'British indie" cut, whose name I have already forgotten. Hit "Brimful Of Asha" follows, but likewise, its overall energy pales to the Fat Boy Slim remix made out of it, as other reviewers suggested. Two uninteresting dated hip hop instrumentals with pointless DJ scratches are then delivered--not '"dated" in 2024, I mean, but already far beyond their peremption date in *1997*, the year *When I Was Born The 7th Time* was actually released. Dan The Automator produced far more enticing and effective tracks in the same genre. Why the hell did he help produce this thing? So it's a very inauspicious beginning for this album, to say the least. Sitar-enhanced "We're In Your Corner" fares far better than any of the four first tracks, fortunately--the instrumental bridge is even incredibly pretty, a piece of evidence that if Cornershop had given a little more thought to their plans when writing this album, they could have pulled off more interesting compositions like this, at least. Too bad that the track after, "Funky Days Are Back Again" sounds like a parody and nothing else. I know a lot of pot was smoked during the making of this LP (one sound engineer even ended up at the hospital because of it!). But for chrissake, the pile of turd that this "song" is is so self-indulgent, and its lyrics are so horrible, that normally, even the most potheaded freak out there should more or less quickly realize on the next day that this track was better off being erased for the dignity of all concerned parties. Alas, it was not erased. More pointless scratches ensue, and then comes a spoken-word interlude over field recordings of oriental traditional music. By the way, the guy talking to us on that interlude is... Allen Ginsberg. Er... OK. Doesn't save the track from being a footnote written in tiny-ass letters on both the books of music AND poetry. Bummer. Tablas and sitars are sampled for the next one-minute instrumental cut. Uh-huh. What's the point, once again? Some sort of big-beat-meets-indie-rock follows thanks to "Big Ships". Thanks but no thanks. I like most styles from the nineties, but here is simply the *worst* example of what this decade offered from time to time. All style no substance. At that point, you pretty much know this record is either a one-star or a two-star album. "Good to Be on the Road Back Home", featuring alt-country singer Paula Frazer, gives you a little hope this is at gonna be a two-star album, given that it's a *proper song* at last (and quite a good one at that)... Except that everything after is, for the most part, minor or rather banal hip hop doodles, once again. Plus a grating cover of a once great Beatles song. If really I had to follow the initial requirements of Dimery's original list, I would give a rare 1.5/5 grade to this thing (rounded up to 2). Which translates to a 6.5/10 grade for more general purposes. There are only *three* tracks on this thing that are worth listening to (one famous hit, plus two good tunes). Clearly, an "essential album", this doesn't have the makings of. Number of albums left to review: 284 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 317 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 175 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 232 (including this one)

Stone-cold masterpiece. Spiralling between the early punk spirit of the New York CBGB scene and the more intricate ornementations of classic and psychedelic rock--or even the ones of more leftfield genres such as jazz and prog-rock (fortunately translated into a very dry, "direct" fashion)--*Marquee Moon* slaps you in the face with its (literal) brilliance. It's also a showcase of how Fender guitars can dazzle the listeners when they're into the right hands. And it foretells the post-punk era that would take over a couple of years later--a splash whose ripples can still be routinely heard today in current "rock" bands. The title-track is a composition for the ages, of course. On its own, it warrants a place for the album it gives its name to into such a list. From the repetition of the two signature quavers opening the song--acting upon Television fans like that bell Pavlov used to make his dogs drool--to that legendary Tom Verlaine guitar solo building up into the track's climax--before one last round of that memorable verse-chorus sequence--"Marquee Moon" is probably one of the most important songs of all time. 10 minutes of absolute wonder. That solo is not only a "technical" feat, you see, it's also an exhilarating, gripping piece of music--going against all the clichés associated with said exercise at the time, and proving that virtuosity could be used to express taste, sensibility and inspiration instead of a void "macho" posturing. *Marquee Moon* is not only an essential listen because of its title-track, however. Actually there's not a single dud among those eight songs. Personal favorites can vary from fan to fan, but opener "See No Evil", with its gnarly main riff, " Venus", with its snarling-yet-seductive vocals, "Elevation", with its guitar "scales" intruding on Verlaine's scansions, "Prove It" with its early rock flavours and stop-and-go shenanigans, and closer "Torn Curtain" with its heartbreaking chorus (nicely modulating away from the deadpan mood of the verses), are cuts that you can't forget once you've heard them. And so are menacing "Friction" and delicate "Guiding Lights". Influential, groundbreaking, technical, heartfelt, subtly textured, *Marquee Moon* also offers very straightforward pleasures. It's both a simple record and one that's actually quite complex if you choose to get lost in its many intricacies. The best of *both* worlds. And even more than that, the best of almost all the relevant music worlds you could get exposed to in 1977 (a stellar year for music, to boot). 5/5, what else? Number of albums left to review: 283 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 318 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 175 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 232

Like all records by Björk, this heartrending "break-up album" (chronicling the dissolution of the Icelandic singer's marriage with conceptual artist Matthew Barney, and how to pick up the pieces from there for her and their daughter) is something you can advise most people with an open mind (and a taste for the dramatic) to listen to. Driven vocals, apocalyptic beats, tragic strings and long tunnels of despair abound in this beautiful record, along with faint glimmers of hope at the ends of said tunnels. Surely, you could find ways to add this striking LP into your own rankings. Except for one little detail... Robert Dimery "forgot" to include other seminal and pivotal Björk albums in his original list--albums whose impact and groundbreaking nature is agreed upon by most professional "critics" out there, but also by music fans of all stripes. Those albums are 1995's *Post* and 1997's *Homogenic*. And you could also probably include 2001's *Vespertine* if there was a little room left for it. Of all the omissions inside the 1001 Albums book--usually about other genres such as jazz, post-rock and (post)-hardcore--the absence of those records is one of the most glaring examples you can find, unfortunately. Indeed, and oddly enough, Dimery and co. only selected first album *Debut* within Björk's discography, and then they included the far later *Vulnicura*, but also *Medullá*, a more experimental LP using human voices as its main conceptual thrust--an impressive effort, but with results that are also a little topsy-turvy at times. I have nothing but benevolent feelings and even sheer love for those later albums, but c'mon--if you can't identify an artist's *true* magnum opus, how can you hope convincing newcomers of those artists' greatness with other records that are obviously a *tiny notch* under them. It's as if Bob Dylan was quoted only for *Blood On The Tracks* or *Time Out Of Mind*. Which would mean that *Bringing It All Back Home*, *Highway 61 Revisited* and *Blonde On Blonde* had been left aside. Quite ridiculous. To be fair, all of this is not the sole reason I'm taking out a point out of a perfect 5/5 grade for *Vulnicura*. That point is also taken away because the heavy subject matter this rather admirable record deals with makes it an arduous listen at times. The thing is, if Björk had found ways to transcend her personal pain into something less solipsistic and a little more universal, those songs would have been even more impressive. But I readily admit that I might be nitpicking here. Whatever the case may be, give this one a listen. Because whether she's in pain or not, Björk's music is always one-of-a-kind, that much is for sure. 4/5 for the purposes of this list gathering "essential albums". Which translates to a 9/10 grade for more general purposes. Number of albums left to review: 281 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 318 (including this one, at least if *Post* and *Homogenic* are also in my own list--and make no mistake, they *will* be quoted!) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 175 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 232

As the Allmusic review points out, *Dance Mania*, Tito Puente's best-known and best-selling album, "came ten years into his career, but at a time (1958) when the craze for mambo and Latin music was beginning to crest". This mostly explains why this album would be in Dimery's list, but I guess another reason is the tight, explosive-and-yet-glossy big band *sound* of this release, clearly transcending such son cubano / son moteno style into an offering that a lot of American audiences could fall in love with at the time. Cuban music is a universe I know very little of, but browsing through Tito Puente's gargantuan discography, you feel like the man covered a lot of different genres related to this part of the world--genres such as afro-cuban percussions, cha-cha-chá, jazzier adaptations, later rock-inspired polyrhythmic shenanigans, and a vast array of more traditional styles whose names and rhythmical features I would be at pain to remember, not to mention *identify* or even *describe*. Being born and raised in New York, and studying at the Julliard School of Music, Puente was certainly the right talented fellow to make this type music popular in the US during the fifties and the sixties. And as a skilled player of timbales (a basic Cuban drumset) and marimba, he sure knew how to slap! As far as general audiences go, Puente's most celebrated composition, "1963's "Oye Como Va", was famously covered by Santana in *Abraxas* a few years later. Listening to *Dance Mania*, you can't help thinking that this is a *clearly* popular track that's missing in this record, even though a lot of the cuts actually foretell that later hit's infectious rhythms and flavoured arrangements (the album it's from, *El Rey Bravo* is actually less tight than this one, but also more adventurous sonically speaking, which is interesting...). Guess I understand the rationale that made Dimery's team think *Dance Mania* is a must-have, given its former popularity and inclusion in the US' National Recording Registry. I would lie if I said I was 100% blown away listening to it--some of the tunes sound a little alike to me--but my ears are probably at fault here. That said, there are a lot of various arrangements and individual performances that hit the mark, that much is for sure. And the production values are stellar for 1958. 3/5 for the purposes of this list of "essential albums" (might bump it up to a 4 later, because I readily admit that I need to get acquainted with that overall genre--one that such list needs to spend some time on). Which, for now at least, translates to a 8/10 grade for more general purposes. (5+3). Number of albums left to review: 280 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 318 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 175 (including this one, most probably). Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 232

By the end of the sixties, a decade that went so fast that it's even hard to keep track of it *today*, Elvis was already outdated, out of touch, and even a little ridiculous. Only a miracle could have made him relevant again. This album is that miracle. Drawing from a southern soul / country-soul genre that was as enticing and vital as the best rhythm and blues still hitting the charts in 1969, using warm soul background singers to support Elvis' stellar vocal performance, and displaying a near-spotless catalogue of tunes from great songwriters (some of them unsung or unknown at the time), *From Elvis In Memphis* marks a great come back for Elvis Presley--more so than the one formerly orchestrated by impresario / agent Colonel Parker when Presley returned from the army around 1960: here it was mostly a marketing ploy. But with that other "return", you also have a real, pivotal album to celebrate. And since it's one of the best LPs ever recorded by the "King", it comes as no surprise that it's still fondly remembered today. I'm gonna be honest, the first time I *really* listened to this album, I expected to react derisively to it. 1969 seemed so far from Presley's heyday that I thought it would be impossible for me *not* to compare it to what was going on elsewhere in that year. But the quaint yet decisive charm of *From Elvis In Memphis* is actually that it's both of its time somehow, and yet also timeless. If there's admittedly a minor share of filler songs to be found in the record's tracklist, most of the cuts are still irresistible. Cuts such as "Wearin' That Loved On Look", "Only The Strong Survive" or "Long Black Limousine" (whose only flaw stems from the lyrics--it would have been much more impactful if the fact that the song is about a funeral had been revealed *at the end*, instead of spilling the beans at the very start). Plus "I'm Moving On" (the lively groove on that one is infectious!), "Any Day Now", and of course "In The Ghetto", a surprisingly socially-aware tune, but most of all, a moving--even a *devastating*--capper for the original LP. Please don't miss the bonus tracks added to the CD / digital version of this LP (singles and leftover cuts recorded for the same sessions), as each one of them is worth the price of admission here. Among them is the memorable "Suspicious Minds", made famous again when Fine Young Cannibals released their own cover version of it, and also the incredible "Kentucky Rain" with its lush orchestral flourishes, unexpected chord and rhythm changes, and catchy three-note staccato pattern--played on an hammond organ, I think, and then echoed by the string section. Like the songs from the original album, those tracks are cinematic and evocative. They could be played in the background of a scene of a film taking place in the deep south, and be a perfect musical illustration for whatever drama was occuring onscreen. 4.5/5, rounded up to 5. Number of albums left to review: 279 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 319 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 175 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 232

I own this record at home, and obviously, its main selling point is the song *I Want You*, one of the best tunes Elvis Costello has ever written: it's raw but melodic, it's disturbingly blunt and disarmingly honest... yet it's also catchy, simple, and frankly endearing--and this, as painful and even *ugly* as the feelings expressed in the song are. It's quite refreshing that Costello, always mired in all sorts of sophisticated, borderline-"literary" posturing, could find it in him to pen something so direct instead in 1986. In the album reissue's liner notes, Costello claims that the melody in the verse of the song was inspired by a Japanese folk tune, which is kind of hard to believe. But whatever the case may be, there is something truly universal in this tale about jealousy and unrequited love. Which is why it hits the intended mark. About the rest of the album, I'm not gonna lie, it's pretty good. A bit rough around the edges, a bit messy--but that's actually an asset after the stifling dynamics and hackneyed production values of the records that preceded it. Not to mention the annoying verbose mannerisms of *Imperial Bedroom*--where you simply want Costello to buckle up after the third song. Costello fans would probably cry foul play after reading my words, but most people and their mothers outside that circle of fans know that including *This Year's Model* and *Armed Forces* in such a list is more than enough to give Elvis Costello the place he deserves there. Robert Dimery thought very differently, unfortunately--how many Elvis Costello albums are in his damn list? 6? 7? Honestly, I've lost count... Now does that mean there's no room for *Blood And Chocolate* in my *own* list? Well, the jury's still out on this one... On the "Pros" section, there's Nick Lowe's "loud" and very "live" production, which honestly aged better than the one on the albums before, as I said earlier. Hiring Lowe, the man responsible for the aesthetics of *This Year's Model* and *Armed Forces*, was all that the Attractions needed to sound good again. And there are still some interesting studio tidbits sprinkled here and there (some reversed tapes, some *subtle* echoes, some quick off-kilter effects adding to those already "noisy" sessions). Yet as off-kilter as those tidbits are, they never ruin the overall dynamics. Even better, those details even give a sixties near-psychedelic subtext to those tracks. Which is good. Especially for a record released in 1986. Another thing for the "Pros" section is the sheer quaity of most of the songs. Opener "Uncomplicated" is exactly what its title suggests, "I Hope You're Happy Now" is textbook Costello (in a good way), but the album really hits its stride with the long postmodern epic "Tokyo Storm Warning", near-Dylanesque in both its musical and lyrical flourishes. Closing side A, there's "I Want You", but I don't need to say more about it than what I have already stated at the start of this tentative review. And closing side B (along with the album), you have four great cuts that go in interesting, less forceful directions: there is the strange-yet-fascinating "Old Battered Bird", quite hard to describe, but very ominous and evocative, as when Costello lets out those chill-inducing yelps over a rather atmospheric bakckground. You also have the sardonic-yet-subdued "ballad" "Crimes Of Paris", the more textured "Poor Napoleon", and the merseybeat-inspired last track and catchy earworm "Next Time Round". In the "Cons" section, however, all the tracks I haven't quoted are more akin to the "automatic mode" version of Elvis Costello and the Attractions after the release of *Armed Forces*, with a lot of words sung by the man, and a lot of chords played as well. And consequently, those other songs don't have much in them that could make them memorable. Costello, as often, is too damn *chatty* on those cuts. Truth be told, he's chatty in the good songs as well, but if the music doesn't have the right hooks to make that aspect bearable, it becomes a bit of a chore to go through those other tunes. Reading what I've just written, I reallize my "Pros" section is bigger that the one for my "Cons". This record is also the last one of the "classic" tenure of Costello's collaboration with The Attractions (in 1986, his relationship with the band had soured to the point that it was better for everyone involved to go their own way for a while). So in a sense, *Blood And Chocolate* is also a "historical" album. Giving it the benefit of the doubt, then. 3.5 for the purposes of this list gathering "essential" LPs (rounded up to 4). Which translates to a 8.5/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3.5). A quick note about my ranking of Elvis Costello's albums in Dimery's list. To this day, the man is still far from being my favourite artist of all time, but since I've started this project, I've warmed up to his music somehow. My grades (and reviews) for *This Year's Model* and *Armed Forces* were quite harsh, I know it now. Today, I would rate both those albums with a 4/5 grade. Which, coincidentally or not, is the grade I will also give to this later album. Won't change my 1/5 "protest" grade for debut *My Aim Is True", though, *That* record was dull, no question, and you can bet your boots that if Costello had not had the career he had afterwards, everyone would have forgotten about it... Number of albums left to review: 278 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 319 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 176 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 232

I have the stellar first two tracks of this album available on a physical release at home, energetic "Hair Of The Dog" and insanely catchy "The Passion Of Lovers" (that goddamn short screeching guitar hook! Or is it a synth?). Plus the incredibly moody and mesmerizing title-track closing the proceedings. Indeed, all three of them are included in the Bauhaus "Volume 1" compilation, that I can't praise enough for anyone interested in the first years of the legendary British band. Those three cuts are as good as goth-leaning post-punk can get, enough said. But what about the other songs in *Mask*, then? Like *some* of the compositions found in previous Bauhaus albums, those other tracks sometimes can't avoid a few hackneyed clichés typical of this genre, with unfocused ditherings and pointless minimalistic dirges that can leave a bad taste in your mouth--that bad taste is probably left *on purpose*, know, but still... Fortunately, three other songs from the original tracklisting of this LP are well worth your time (I'm not bothering about the CD bonus tracks, here). There's "Kick In The Eye", a weird-yet-lively funk-inspired song that draws from Bowie circa-*Lodger* or *Scary Monsters...*, dark and hopeless "Hollow Hills" and its haunting guitar shrills that can remind you of the most ominous instrumentals by Godspeed You! Black Emperor, and "The Man With The X-Ray Eyes", an infectious earworm that should have found its place in the "Volume 1" / "Volume 2" compilations, but inexplicably did *not*. So that's three stellar songs and three other very good ones over ten tracks. Not so bad after all. Please also check subsequent album *The Sky's Gone Out*, one of Bauhaus' most adventurous LPs, which also explores soundscapes related to krautrock and also--I shit you not!--*dub and reggae*. And this in ways that are often as fascinating as the ones they use for their more expected post-punk output. Going back to *Mask*, I feel like this album should have a 3.5/5 grade for the specific purposes of this list of "essential albums" (here rounded up to 4). Which translates to a 8.5/10 grade for more general purposes (5 + 3.5). Number of albums left to review: 277 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 319 Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 177 (including this one) Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 232

*Better Living Through Chemistry*. Given the innuendo pointing to drug use in the title of this record, I'm gonna assess the latter the way a drug dealer measures the content of his "product": Big Beat formula = 3 points. It's lively and you can dance to it (4/5?), but it's not a genre that aims for "substance", very ironically. It's all about *style*. (No, 3/5!) Peremption date :  - 1 point. This thing already sounded pretty dated only a few years after its release. Electronic music always points towards the future, yet the future is often unkind to it. You need a few specific addition to examples of this umbrella genre to make them hold water one or two decades later. Can't pinpoint this specific additions in the album. No instantly recognizable and memorable hits : - 1 point. "Going Out Of My Head" points towards the bangers that would make Fatboy Slim famous with album *You've Come A Long Way, Baby* (this one's a keeper!), but the man wasn't quite there yet with this track. You have the "fake rock", copied-and-pasted guitar riffs, but not the infectious vocal samples that could allow you to file this cut with the best Chemical Brothers and Prodigy hits. Worse, the rest is a little "meat-and-potatoes" when it comes to electronic forays. See the next paragraph. A few groundbreaking arrangements that hit the mark : +1 Some of those arrangements are still too much indebted to older examples to house music and techno to allow me to give more than one bonus point to this thing (which only emphasizes the "dated" aspect of this record). But you gotta recognize that *Better Living Through Chemistry* was at least groundbreaking because it helped spawn new sounds now associated with that Big Beat thing. Too bad that this subgenre had a very quick peremption date itself. End score: 2/5 for the purpose of this list gathering "essential albums". Which translates to a 7/10 grade for more general purposes. Next, please. Number of albums left to review: less than 300, approximately (I've temporarily lost count here) Number of albums I'll include in my own list: half so far, approximately Number of albums I *might*  include: a quarter, approximately. Number of albums I'll never include: another quarter (many others are more important to me, including this one)

2003 was the year fake siblings and real divorced couple Jack and Meg White were crowned as the most important act currently performing by rock fans all over the world. *Elephant* is not even my favourite album of that year--that would be Grandaddy's *Sumday*, closely followed by Yeah Yeah Yeah's *Fever To Tell*--but it sure had the necessary material to reach that much coveted status for a lot of listeners in 2003--even in front of the excellent *You Are Free* by Catpower, or The Strokes' *Room On Fire*. This album is a devilish hit machine, enough said--recycling blues tropes into miraculously fresh reënactments, one track after the other, with some other suprises added to the mix. Obviously, opener *Seven Nation Army* is one of the most impactful and most memorable rock songs ever released this side of the year 2000, an earworm whose bassline has conquered every sports arena out there--quite an hilarious feat given that the instrument playing that bassline is actually... no bass at all! After that now-legendary opener, "Black Maths" and "There's No Home For You Here" dig that same garage blues-rock trench further to great effects (that short repeated break with haunting vocals on the latter is a moment of pure wonder). Then comes Burt Bacharach and Hal David's "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself", in an iconic cover version if there has ever been one in The White Stripes's discography. I still remember the first time I listened to the song as played by Jack and Meg. It was during a festival in Paris where The White Stripes were performing--I wasn't really a fan of the band back then. But dicovering the band onstage *before* I properly listened to their albums was a privilege I will always be grateful for. And I remember how awestruck I instantly was when I heard that cover. To me, that was the key that unlocked their world. Since we're talking about The White Stripes as performers, a quick aside about its members' musicianship here. Jack White is obviously a great guitar player--not so much a virtuoso, but rather a careful craftsman using every skill in his book and pedal in his pedalboard to make his instrument shine. But the true enigma when it comes to musicianship within the band is Meg White's minimalistic drumming style. Drums are usually a pretty "formatted" instrument. Either you have a good sense of rhythm as a drummer or you don't. Usually, drummers just *can't* have the sorts of weird idiosyncracies that can be found in a guitar player, for instance--where a lack of technical skills can be mitigated by an instantly recognizable, very personal playing style. Drums are way too pivotal for the structure of a song to allow an overabundance of those, well, "irregularites". But the way Meg White plays those drums authorizes that, miraculously. For instance, her kick on the bass drum on fast tracks is actually quite... irregular, to use the exact same word I used before. But here, instead of ruining the songs, said irregularity actually adds to them--because it brings a welcome ambiguity and *literal* timelessness to those tunes already drawing from all sorts of American grassroots traditions. The whole White Stripes guitar-and-drums dynamic sounds legit, authentic. And so do the technical "flaws". And when you factor in the relentless "drive" that Meg emphasizes in most of the cuts on this record, her style becomes a pure treat for the ears. Going back to the tracklist, I'm gonna play the fast-forward button and leave aside the three cuts after "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself". Not that those cuts are bad--they even add intimate, folk textures to an album that's far more varied that The White Stripes' reputation lets on. But we need to move to the real "meat" of this record quick, which is the *whole second half of the album*--proving that *Elephant* is not merely the "one with *Seven Nation Army* on it", but also the probable equal of *White Blood Cells* in terms of overall quality. For example, as obvious as it is that *Ball And Biscuit* rips off countless blues acts from the past, the result (and that iconic guitar riff), is simply, utterly, irresisitible. And so is "The Hardest Button to Button" with one of the catchiest guitar and drum interactions ever penned by the band (which says something!). Truly one of the five most memorable songs ever written by Jack White. "Little Acorns" explores darker territories with its borderline-hard rock/heavy metal mood and its parody of self-help advice in the lyrics. "Hypnotize" then goes full-blown "lo-fi", with welcomed punkier outcomes when it comes to both sound and performances. Following that short cut, "The Air Near My Fingers" offers a wealth of other iconic riffs and vocal parts. Plus having that rhodes piano double-tracking the guitar riffs was a stellar idea to push the enveloppe just a little sonically speaking, just the way the sound of this record needed to be "pushed" towards its end. Finally, "Girl, You have No Faith In Medecine", the last rocker in the album, gives you the feeling that it has existed for the last four or five decades, just like 80% of the other songs on *Elephant*. One little meta-joke-of-a-song after, with a guest singer named Holly Golightly suggesting the possibility of love triangle rock fans shoudn't fantasize about *too seriously*, and the album is over. Revisiting it, I thought I would nitpick about a few things and give it a 4.5/5. But nitpick, I will not. The *Elephant* is out of the room from the get-go when you start spinning this LP. Because the "deep cuts" have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and the highlights are just incredible. 5/5, then. Number of albums left to review: 275 Number of albums from the list I find relevant enough to be mandatory listens: 321 (including this one) Albums from the list I *might* include in mine later on: 177 Albums from the list I won't include in mine (many other records are more important to me): 233