This is such a conflict. Do you reject what you know b/c the band members are racist assholes? I know that good can come from a trash heap. That people grow and growth is fucking hard. It is not linear. Once I held many of the same views. That we are toxic when we are hurting. There's maybe something really great here in this album but also it is a terrible place to stay or be stuck. I can't fully reject the South. It's in my heart so I can't fully walk away from this album. But I can't listen to it without all the extra convos that come with it. That makes it so goddamn weighty for something that is supposed to rock.

When one traces the origins of their meal, they discover that even a simple pasta has traveled extensively; the tomatoes are from Mexico, the wheat from Ukraine, the eggs from New England, and the onions from Quebec. This album, too, has such strong roots in so many different communities. It is a deliciously simple dish with ingredients from West Africa, South Africa, France, USA, and the Arabian Gulf. It isn't the kind of dish that you discover, beg your friend for the recipe, and put into your regular rotation of meals at home. And when you prep it, it takes you to all those different moments with your friends across so many different places.

Did I just play Guitar Hero or Rock Band? It's really hard to listen to this album and not pretend to press buttons on a plastic guitar. It's also near impossible to see this album outside this frame.

I must be a dreary millennial because I appreciate the lugubrious tone of this album. It’s a general album for a generation that is worse off than the previous, continuously blamed for their parents’ decisions—who gave us participation trophies? If a part of you doesn’t understand the mood of this album, then you might just be too old to understand this sadness is generally in our blood along with all the micro-plastics; like it or not.

I couldn't tell you what songs were on this album and I just listened to it. How is that even possible? Trying to think back, it is just fog. No outlines. No impressions. Not even the curvy, fluffy edges of a cloud. Just greyish non.

Bouncy and from a moment in time. Cohesive social commentary with enough little nuances in the lyrics to make you go back and listen. Kayne's struggles are wrapped in ego and hidden in plain sight.

Given the subject matter, I wanted to have high praise. My perhaps too honest opinion is that it is essentially an art project from a decent art school. The music feels like an after thought to "the message." I thought, maybe I could like it as background music but the art house nature keeps it from fading into the scenery. That all sounds harsh because I do appreciate and support the message and think there is some talented drive loops in there.

There are time-tested songs on this album--Norwegian Wood, In My Life, Michelle--but overall this is a album from its era. Listening to songs like Run For Your Life can be harsh in 2022 as an example of the worst of the era. The acoustic guitars and sitar still ring of flower power freedom. The elements of the best of the Beatles are here but the same is true of all the problematic elements.

This a solid background album that would be wonderful to have on a turntable while you go about washing dishes or baking. There are a couple of recognizable, stop-and-listen songs (Kashmir and House of the Holy) but many that fade into a general mood. Just when you’d forget the album was on because guitar solos went too long, you’d find it switches up to Boogie with Stu and Black Country Girl. The vibe changes enough to refresh but not enough to fully make you sit and figure out the actual lyrics. It was more than I expected but perhaps less than I’d usually attribute to a legendary band.

This surprised me. It was chill. I expected the synths and drumbeats and that it would bore. Instead, it felt like a long car drive; winding turns and interesting changing views along the horizon. I'm currently sitting in the airport awaiting my plane. I forgot I was deliberately listening and just let the album set the mood. The finale was especially poignant as crowds rushed to their flight. Sweet Dreams and This City Never Sleeps stood out—the former as the hit and the latter as the culmination. Other than that, I don’t know that I could recognize distinct songs in the way that I can’t remember all the named rural townships driven through on the way to the city. The drive was lovely though.

I really like Arcade Fire and I actually felt disappointed. The album felt monotone which is not what I expected from them. I wasn’t familiar with this album as a whole, just a few songs—and admittedly not my favorites. I wouldn’t venture to saying it is a bad album. It just wasn’t interesting. Not even from a manspreading perspective.

I don’t think I liked it but maybe I appreciate it. It has a serious and somber tone which is not what I associate with George Michael. Given that this came out in 1990, the background of the times heightens that seriousness—a closeted gay man in the midst of the AIDS/HIV epidemic. It isn’t enough for me to want to grab this album off a shelf. But I appreciate that it exists.

Loved the loops and beats but parts felt sophomoric at times. Little Simz had a strong presences but the choruses didn’t feel raw in an artistic sense; they felt under produced, just not on the same level. Lyrically, the content dives into some heavy places. I was torn at how much I fully like the album and, ultimately, decided on another round.

This album is the seed of much that came after. Hootie? Gin Blossoms? Toad the Wet Sprocket? The Wallflowers? I can't help but hear all of them here. Stipe's lyrics would make a radical professor proud and leave a weird, straight A student radicalized. If I hadn't been in kindergarten, it would have been a lot of fun to be in university in 1987 and playing this tape over and over for my roommates. They would all sing It's the End of The World as We Know It (and I Feel Fine) or The One I Love, then leave me to finish out the rest of the album while I draw my first anti-Reagan sign. There is something raw in this that fits college radio but not in a way that should be dismissed. It's like walking into a library with people studying in various corners--some stressed over exams and others flirting with someone too busy explaining the importance of a too-often-quoted philosopher--and you feel fine.

I honestly hadn't heard for The Yardbirds before. Given the timeframe and the rawness of the sound, it is clear that this is a root album. Plenty after could be said to have refined the pieces here. I found it enjoyable across the twists and turns of the album. It certainly wasn't polished but also wasn't flat. It was vibrant and groovy. Bluesy and psychedelic. And without the weight of all that came later. What it lacked in production, I think it made up in heart. Kind of like your favorite local band that just so happens to be 60 years old.

This album started with classic Elvis. Blue Suede Shoes is exactly what you want. Then immediately falls down, then never really recovers. There are still listenable songs on the record but nothing surpasses the outdated to become the classic beyond that intro. This might have been a firestorm in its day but it didn’t hold up for me. (Oh and Little Richard made the definitive version of Tutti Fruitti before this album even dropped.) The king is dead. Long live the shoes.

Want a weird album that is fun and just rocks? Listening I felt like my 6 year old dancing in the kitchen when no one is watching. Doesn't matter if the moves are good, just feel it. If you are looking for perfect pop gems, this isn't your album. If you want something that grabs you and is just beyond your reach of understanding why... this is your home. A younger, teenage version of myself wouldn't get it. Bowie's voice, the twang of the guitars, the general sound are rough and unkempt. But it isn't dirty. It isn't without discipline. It's magical and magic is strange.

Reminded me of The Smiths so immediately connected. Perfect for a gloomy, fog of a day. You want to relieve the angst of the misfit? Want to walk down the street while contemplating how you don't align with the world, sunshine or rain? This is a great album. Moody with great execution. I'll add this into my rotation when I want to spiral a bit but not get fully lost. More nostalgic sadness than capturing darkness. Of course, if you are on the beach in the brightness of summer, you are going to gripe that The Jam is trying to block your sun. You won't get a tan or play football in the sand to this album.

Old school and cool. There are some dips here or there in how strong some of the songs have held up. For an album that launched hardcore rap, it feels less hard and more a reflection of working class struggles for black communities. It is defiant and doesn't hide the pain but it isn't brutal. Perhaps that is how it holds up so well... it's truth speak. (Unlike other later albums which are closer to ego-centric anger displays) And the mix still feel fresh.

The instrumental work in this album was perfect for focusing on work. Smooth and easy. Martyn's voice, however, was less refined. Been listening to Nathaniel Rateliff and also Jake Xerxes Fussell. Their level of rough around the edges still blends right into their musical style. I did not feel the same with Martyn. In an album that lets you sink in, a singer being just outside that feeling leaves you unsatisfied. Also, the lyrics felt like poems a friend of my mom's would put into a Hallmark card. Sentimental, nostalgic and over the top cheesy.

Plenty that rocks in this album. Breaking the Law is still just pure anti-authority joy. Metal Gods just feels silly to me though. United is chant worthy. Beyond that, it's metal in a way that didn't feel weighed down with all the cliches.

Honestly, was hard to actually listen. Was just not that interested. The jam shows talent but I just didn't get into it. Is it me? Also, some of the southern, Dixie, references have too much of a weighted past to really enjoy.

Open straight into Guitar Hero. Grab the controller guitar and start wailing away. You will end up soloing on your air guitar later the day. Guaranteed. You wonder if there were fights behind the scenes on whether the singer or lead guitarist would get to let loose the longest. They seem to have mostly found a favorable balance. Also, how is that I want to sing along with songs that I most definitely should never attempt to sing? I don't have that range.

The sound was more Paris than Memphis. Is she singing to her French lover who is beckoning her across the shag carpet to the pedal covered bed? The album cover has her in lace and I can't help but wonder... is this her slip? Are we already in her bedroom? Her voice is seductive and a couple of songs really stood beyond that general sultry (Son of a Preacher Man) nature. But that energy is stuck in the transition from the 60's to the 70's--leaving a modern listener feeling that it is Mrs. Robinson's mother pulling you into the bedroom and no longer the free love of the youth.

Plenty of artist came after Faith No More. Did they do it the best? Nah. Did they do something original? Yes. Did it inspire a lot of great and crappy bands? Yep. Rage Against the Machine, Limp Bizkit, etc. I wouldn't say that I fully enjoyed the album. Plenty of eye rolls but they were talented and doing something different. That's admirable. Enjoyable all the way through? Not so much. Admirable? Yep.

Listenable to the end. It's a solid album. What I wasn't aware of was that so many of these are covers. Did that diminish the stars of others to have the Beatles putting it forth? It's interesting to dive in on that history.

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs are a three piece rock band in my mind; killer guitar and Karen O's lead force. It's Blitz! is just so damn dance-able. Keyboard, electronic drumbeats, and synths. Not what I think of when they come to mind but so damn fun, Reminded me that I should listen to We Are Pilots by Shiny Toy Guns. If there is a complaint, Yeah Yeah Yeahs love their long, drawn out, repetitive intros and endings to songs. But songs like Hysteric have almost a dreamy, haptic feel to them.

I don’t really know where any one song started and another began. This album blended so well without droning. Nothing stood out—bad or great. All of it was good. I didn’t get to full-concentration listen but I did get to enjoy. I enjoyed this as a rock-and-kick-ass-at-work album.

Ended up enjoying this more than Document overall. Maybe the highs aren't as high (hard to beat End of the World) but the overall album is solid and listenable across.

Modern Kosmology is an apt title. It was a bit like reading a horoscope page on Facebook written by your aunt. I’m sure it is appealing to some but I did not connect to it at all.

There She Goes stands out on this album. Like a big chunk of candy bar in a pint of ice cream. If the ice cream was pretty good local ice cream. I like to think that The La's are a really good local band that just happen to have recorded an album. They don't feel like a rockstar band. They're good and, most likely, fun to see live in a bar venue (not an arena). Just popular enough that they sell a few shirts to friends of family members. Not so popular that people bother you when you're sharing a beer with them at the end of the gig.

I couldn’t enjoy it. It felt like a Norwegian band trying to be an American punk band. The lyrics felt like either a thirteen year old wrote them or someone used Google Translate after watching SLC Punk. There are elements that show they are solid at punk/glam rock guitar but where are the hooks? And this is 1998, when punk is already grown up. So many great albums before this. Not sure why this was on the list. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t poignant. It didn’t even feel offensive in the way that punk is meant to be. If you ignore the lyrics, most of it was maybe good enough to be on a punk mix tape.

This album is that transition through your twenties from rebel punk to something more akin to a self-aware adult. There's plenty of playfulness in the lyrics that show adolescences isn't all angst. It is weird and something comes of it. The album also has enough changes in musical elements to feel whole and interesting. Enjoyed it overall.

The album has a nice split of brassy to string with Ray Charles holding it together. He’s talented and the music is full. Not sure I’d self appoint the genius title if I was Ray Charles buy that is maybe because Ray doesn’t feel as relevant to today.

I am so torn. On the one hand, this album is amazing. All that is put into the lyrics and the sound. It's beautiful and impactful. On the other hand, the vocals are so understated that it losses me at times. I so want to be a bigger fan and in awe. The story of how the art is made matters and it makes the album all the richer here. The more I listen, the more I can dive into the epiphany of each song as a counterweight to the lack of connection to the vocals. This will go in to my rotation b/c I like it but I want to love it.

Nasally soul put over electronic elevator music influenced by disco. All the good and the bad that such implies.

Penguin Café Orchestra is another art project. It’s weird and textured. But surprisingly enjoyable and playful at times. I wasn’t expecting to be pulled into the flow of it as much nor annoyed at the interruption of sudden stark sounds (which was the point, I believe, on “The Sound of Someone…”). In the age of Spotify sleep or concentration playlists, this album would feel defiant. In amongst every day, it felt like I took my coffee break at a museum’s cafe. Not revolutionary but something to talk about when I get back to work

What can you say about Bjork that isn’t true? I find myself asking “why am I listening to this?” alongside “why don’t I listen to this more?” Is Bjork an early YouTube star pushing limits for likes or a master artist? Who knows? After listening to this album, I have no answers.

There is so much happening in this album(s) that you kind of walk away in a haze. Did I just get hot boxed? There were so many interludes that maybe this is a montage? Also, who isn't on this album? 'Jova, yep. Rosario Dawson? Yes, and why... cause why not. Huge radio hits? Yep. Random radio plays? Yep. What is this? It's stanky. Also, it's long. Real long.

The Chronic is foundational in hip hop that can't be questioned. But, fuck, it isn't just constant overt homophobic, misogynistic themes. Knowing where Dre and Snoop have grown helps put it into perspective. What holds up are the hits (interesting that they also have less of the hateful themes).

Ritual De Lo Habitual is like leaving a raging party in the morning after that you don't regret. Your clothes feel stale and heavy with smoke. The taste in your mouth demands attention but the sunlight streaking into the room is splitting your head. You smile at the random bits of humanity strewn across mattress-covered, worn wooden floors. You might have underwear on but that is more than whoever is startfished out in the hallway. There's grit, survival, and celebration but it also can be a bit too much.

Listening to The Chronic and then The Predator, I almost wish these two albums were fused. They have oppositional strengths. Where Ice Cube is socially focused and taking the (violent) activist role, Dr. Dre is more focused on rep. On the flip side, the hooks and melodies on The Chronic are better built. There are hits on both albums but The Chronic has more lasting power based on melody alone. Any number of Karen's have listed out the problematic aspects of this album--and they aren't fully wrong (example: homophobic language). There is bravado with purpose and there is excess here, too. Ice Cube often is punching his own allies in the face in his outrage. A riot isn't clean but that also doesn't make it unnecessary. It requires you to ask the question "how the fuck did we get here?" and that is the point he's trying to make (hence all the interludes referencing his critics).

Pavement: Could this sound anymore 90's indie? Melancholic but not depressing. Not city or rural. Just suburban with a skateboard that doesn't do any big tricks. Not punk or private school. Just the kid in the middle of it all, trying to figure out themselves as a sophomore in college.

I love this album. I love this band. Saw them live twice (decade apart). Each time was the same. Loads of leather-elbowed types enjoying themselves to the limit, belting out the songs.

What if we made Massive Attack super depressing? And not just sad depressing. All of the different, dark shades of ugh, fuck, why, boo, and no. Did not know what to expect so was capture pretty solid in the beginning but was happy to let go of the headphones by the end. Can't brood that much in one go. Need some kind of higher hill view between the alleyways of despondent.

Man, I was loving The Low End Theory until Infamous Date Rape. The jazz influence :chefs_kiss:. The old school rhymes :dollar_sign:. This album is soooo damn good with a huge piece of shit sitting in the middle... The song is supposed to be anti-rape but fuck if it isn't exactly the opposite. Toxic masculinity at its finest--thinking they're an ally when it is just fuel for even more of the same shit.

Solid '60's soul branching towards psychedelic. Special? I don't know. Good album to put on and listen to on a lazy Saturday? Yes. It is fun to be tapping along to I Don't Love You Anymore. The contrast of that groovy, upbeat sound with a pretty harsh message is so cruel and satisfying. Not sure the combination was intentional. Groovin' still sounds like every windows-down song. This one is planted in the '60's but every era has a few.

The execution here is on point. Everything solid about MC/rapper combos is here. The flow is confidently smooth and laced with intelligence. The 90's is heavily here without needing all the "it was the times" qualifiers. Those pieces of The Chronic, The Predator, and The Low End that aged horribly are missing here without losing the cultural relevance to the moment of its creation. That elevates the work. Maybe it wasn't on the charts like those other albums but the slow burn here is a legacy play that'll last longer.

Red Headed Stranger is Country and Western at its best. Music that sways and pulls more than shows off. Lyrics that weave together complex stories that are built around simple emotions. A dance and a tap that is slow but hopeful. This isn't the best collection of Willie but it is a masterful showing of someone that is sharing the closest thing to universal truth.

Ignoring the cultural food fight over the band. This is a solid album for an average day. It isn't outrageous. It isn't in your face. It won't wring out every emotion and leave you a puddle on the floor. Instead, it'll walk alongside you on a cool autumn day. It will hum along with you on a commute. Don't Panic, Shiver, Yellow, and Everything's Not Lost will fill up so many of the spaces that make up the vast majority of our time. If you let it, it'll add a comfortable element to your mundane moments. Everyone like a good sweater. Hence its popularity.

You'll hear the hits from this album in almost any country on the radio. U2 steps into stadium world tours and FIFA sponsorship with this album. The highs are constant pop hits. The lows are forgettable. Lyrically, it feels like Bono found God in a dew drop on a flower and is trying to explain it to an elementary school. That should mean failure. Instead, they are accessible to the world. Translatable. It shifts the core from American radio to something wider. Can't deny that means something.

Beautiful and sad. Exactly the album you need in your twenties as you take punches from life, sort through hangovers, and wonder about all the possibilities. Figure 8 is for when you need to stretch through newly healed skin after the scab has fallen off.

As a 90's alternative fan, this just fit my sensibilities. How had I never heard this band/album before? The question behind the album's sound... what would a late 90's alternative band on an asteroid belt mining rig sound like? It's belter music influenced by some mixed tapes salvaged a passed down that contains Nirvana, Jane's Addition, Moist, and Chemical Brothers.

70's guitar rock at its purest. Your dad probably loves this band. They are really good at what they do. If it is your thing, you'll love them. Otherwise, they are worth appreciating.

The beginning of this album is Halloween jazz which fits its title. Weird and unruly potions and all. The B side had more replay capacity. Not my favorite Miles Davis album. Up and down for me.

Nothing here spoke to me. It was fine being in the background but I could never pull it to the foreground. Like it was afraid of the spotlight.

Fog rolls into a wasteland with an arcade ruled by a B-level Tina Turner. Spandex and vibrantly colored leather is all the locals have to wear. Suddenly, an average suburban white boy is ripped through a portal by an obnoxious sidekick puppet character. He’s on a mission to set the people free with his Walkman only he doesn’t know it yet. To slow him down, the witch-like Fake Turner replaces his hair-band rock tape with this album by manipulating the puppet. In a moment of desperation, a young punk scrambles out of the underground sewer world, crashes into him, destroying the tape. The under-dweller takes off their helmet with a hair sweep to reveal an Elizabeth Shue knock-off. The quest for the ultimate powered mixed tape begins.

What if country music ended up in a London pub and drank too much? This is the album. Bar bonding singalong of Hank Williams, the social commentary of punk, and the rainy days of The Cure. It's a weird bastard of a child that is surprisingly enjoyable.

I enjoy this album more now than when it came out. At the time, it felt like Travis would be another Radiohead but more radio-savvy. It would be a saturated market and overwhelm all music. Instead, the future has been more diverse and this niche has moved out of the mainstream. That left more room for this album. Happy to put it in the usual rotation.

It blows my mind that Johnny just knows and is in harmony with his audience here. That connection is so complete that it transforms the songs and their lyrics--becoming something more. The reaction of the crowd matters more than the content of the songs. They find a home, not in literal acceptance but in audacity. The audacity of swearing, of being there, riding the edge of crassness, and understanding something that they all share. The twang and railroad beat make this feel both fictitious and absolutely real.

Asked someone to guess when this album was released “1984. No, 1974. I really think it is 1950’s but I feel like it’s a trick question and the background guitar doesn’t sound like the 50’s”. 2005. Tried to understand why such an anachronistic album was including. Did not find the answer.

Did I just take an 80’s nap?

The difference between Dre, Ice Cube, and 2Pac? Depth. Dre and Ice Cube are at a high level of execution but they never quite hit to the prophetic poet. 2Pac transcends to a place where there's context, struggle, pain, release, and acceptance. This isn't about ego (though 2Pac doesn't lack there) nor album sales (even as money holds importance). There's more here worth seeing in total with all its edges. The album very much pulls from the 90's sound. It can drag on a bit. And 2Pac isn't a hero. He's a hole in the fence that allows you to see into a world that society tried to block out.

This album is a mostly well-balanced blend of the core Beach Boy sound with the wave of culture and music in 1970 that takes a new, darker turn. Long Promised Road hits hard knowing Brian Wilson’s story and is the top track. Some places wonder completely into the weird and get lost. But, mostly, I was surprised that I’d never heard this album. Shame on me.

I feel like this album was put in as a joke. Not even a good joke. Like the publisher thought "I could put in actual joke albums like Weird Al... No, people would know it is a joke. It has to be something with enough musicality and seriousness that they are caught completely unaware. Oh, I know..."

This is a live album without all the obnoxious fan noise and the need to play the radio hits. It is distortion in its natural form, enjoying the moment. You don't have to say "I wish I had been there" because you are there if you turn it up and give in to the buzzing in your ear.

A nice sonic space to be in while going about the world.

The songs are solidly built but what once was a rocker is now a sleepy roll.

Wasn't really listening until Bitter Sweet. That one peaked my attention a bit. The rest of the album felt alright. Others have gone over similar ground in more compelling ways (Bowie, Queen, Danny Elfman, et al).

When the lyrics could have risen to poignant, they felt forced. Chocolate Cake is a great example of a criticism that lacks artistry. Are they the cheap Picasso fake? Not sure they are trying to be ironic, just snarky. Overall, nothing here felt like it would have been in heavy rotation in 1991 and so is surprising to be on a list in 2022. Nothing here is bad. It is mostly well done. Just not enough to be memorable.

What is it about Stevie that something that could be boring is smooth instead? Too High done by a lesser hand would be a sleepy start. Instead, it is the smooth intro with a power lift (musically) in Living for the City. The lyrics and melodies blend in a great reminder of why it is called soul. Enjoyed.

I remember this album surprising me when it came out. Sea Change is more my speed. Acoustic, melancholic. It showcased a stripped-down Beck with a simple focus on writing break-up songs. It works. Beck feels sad and we all mope with him.

Lyrics were cheeky but boring. Maybe it was edgy but now just seems like that crass, drunk guy in the corner (looking at you Peaches). The constant organ in the background doesn't help. Drab curtains handing over a stage with worn shag carpet underfoot during an okay show. This album's lyrics just feel so heavily dated that they overshadowed the decent hooks.

This is a roll through a mountain range, peaks and valleys. All beautiful views even if not everything is spectacular. Some of it is simply enjoying the build and climbing down from the hits. I don't know how many times I have a bass line or melody from this album in my head. It can take days for me to identify it and recognize that I've just been feeling the wind and remembering that road trip through the mountains.

Did I just play Guitar Hero or Rock Band? It's really hard to listen to this album and not pretend to press buttons on a plastic guitar. It's also near impossible to see this album outside this frame.

Before hype. Before fans. This is just a crazy idea of an album that holds its core over time. Sure there is a lot of bloat later in this genre (and from this band). But you can tell they are doing something that they just really wanted to do. I can respect that. Is this inspirational magic? More like magic history. Better potions, darker magic are norms now. Worth adding to the athenaeum.

Enjoyable listen even if I had no idea what they were saying. I read that it would be strange time signatures so was expecting really out there music. Turns out, it was soft punk. Like a Suicide Tendencies that you can listen to with kids home—assuming that they too can’t make out any lyrics.

Little dude and I were listening to this album. I put it on pause and he complained until I unpaused. I think that about sums it up.

I didn't need to listen to the hits (though I did) so I spent more ear on the remainder. Maybe it was the recent watching of Stranger Things but I found myself loving Lonely in Your Nightmare and being enthralled with The Chauffeur. Oh, the classic statement piece that wanders and plays as the closer. It worked!

When the morning is full of small moments, a few rays are pushing past the curtains to the hardwood floor, and your partner comes up behind you with a kiss on the back of your neck, then this album should start automatically--so you can two-step together across the kitchen, past the pantry, and into the remembrance of the library of little moments that you share. The dance will end in a chuckle at how silly but dreamy it was to be absorbed into that moment.

When you have a sound and it comes naturally, that itself can seem inconsequential to some and powerful to others. Creedence is so distinct in their rasp and twang that anyone listening has been to the bayou, got bit by a mosquito, eaten a po' boy, got drunk on moonshine, kissed someone with either no teeth or really bad teeth, and stomped their foot along. Keep on turning and burning.

It’s hard to hit the mark when your aim is a complete concept album. Many have tried and failed. Pink Floyd are the standard bearers. Inadvertently, the album comes with not just itself but the phenomenon’s cultural grime. It actually muddies the water here. There’s a layer of Wizard of Oz and stoner space-out to push past to be able to listen with any real clarity. It’s worth that dive to hear it without the weight of “oh man, dude, you like really gotta..”

Orges and black queens. This is a nerdy album. Solid in its groundings. It feels more like Queen writing the soundtrack to their DnD game than a full serious album. Doesn't make it bad. Just weirdly enough, it didn't feel epic.

I must be a dreary millennial because I appreciate the lugubrious tone of this album. It’s a general album for a generation that is worse off than the previous, continuously blamed for their parents’ decisions—who gave us participation trophies? If a part of you doesn’t understand the mood of this album, then you might just be too old to understand this sadness is generally in our blood along with all the micro-plastics; like it or not.

If I’m going to go to a skating rink, I’d rather them play 80’s for the retro feel. Disco’s influence can live on but this album really just feels like old shaggy carpet—appealing when new but there’s so much grime ground into it that it’s best to rip it up and move on. Maybe save a sample for a strategically placed rug.

What is sensual is so personal that it is easier to come off as cheesy or spacey than meeting the moment. I don't know if she is off vibe or I am. Either way, I could not connect with this album until midway through. I really like the power in Kate Bush's voice. At her best on this album, she's a fusion between Tori Amos and Cyndi Lauper with powerful songwriting. There are just not enough of those moments to really power the full flight.

Rock and soul. Those are the two solid elements here. If my stats are lower only it is only that I just didn’t feel it. Just admired

Surprisingly, this was a great album for a long bike ride. The dancing tempo helped keep a pace with a cool down around the 10-mile mark. Total surprise.

Like fantasy novels? Like guitars? Want to be in the future from the 80's? Here is your one-way ticket to 2112. First track on the album will be your epic journey. The remainder are the little things that happen to you when you finally settle into your new wings at the spaceport of some ancient Syrian god. Good luck. God speed. And remember, you will probably find yourself with a very narrow niche of people so you better decide now if you really want to go.

When one traces the origins of their meal, they discover that even a simple pasta has traveled extensively; the tomatoes are from Mexico, the wheat from Ukraine, the eggs from New England, and the onions from Quebec. This album, too, has such strong roots in so many different communities. It is a deliciously simple dish with ingredients from West Africa, South Africa, France, USA, and the Arabian Gulf. It isn't the kind of dish that you discover, beg your friend for the recipe, and put into your regular rotation of meals at home. And when you prep it, it takes you to all those different moments with your friends across so many different places.

If you love drums, you'll love this album. If you are on a bike ride, you'll appreciate someone keeping an upbeat, rhythmic pace. It'll keep you going. If you are completely against drum circles, you'll hate this album.

90's R&B to the max. It is the "ahhhs", "owwws", bass, falsetto, and ranging of anything to come out of this genre around the turn of the millennium. And.... it's boring. So many came ofter and did it better. If this is a cornerstone, then it is one hidden and structurally great but the real magnificence of the building is everything on top. I appreciate this album but didn't enjoy this album--I would have expected the opposite.

This is a good album to add to the rotation. It has the hits. The albums plays well from start to finish. The songs are not all next level but the band's sound carries it through the weaker songs. In the end, it captures the Go Go's really well which elevates it to rotational status. That bright, energetic burst has been multiple times copied without diminishing the original.

If you want to be in that crowd, then live can swallow you and flood you with the vibe. If you are just listening to learn, it is hard to get into that groove.

Someone mentions avant guarde and I usually cringe because it has been done so badly. Bowie makes the unusual, alien, and sudden acccessible. Like he knows all those weird parts of each of us and can use that to interface with all the wider weird.

The sound here is unique. Most of that is in her voice. Moody and dark. Plenty of strings, flutes, and organs that just hang thick in the air. This album has a humid, oppressing feel. I don't know that I remember happiness when listening but I do feel the earth beneath my feet.

An influential album for anyone that appreciates The Go Go’s, Smashing Pumpkins. Not polished greatness. Not ceiling breaking. An album made of solid enough stuff to stick around after it added its own layers to the post-punk world.

I put this on and my partner immediately started dancing. She also noted that I should put on headphones so she can concentrate. That might say it all.

Time to drop some MDMA. Speed, sure? Then jump into the mix. Oh wait, it is a crawling pit of human sweat and ever-multiplying bacteria. Maybe I'll sit this out and appreciate that I'm not at a rave with overly confident teenagers in the year 2000. Now that this album isn't on constant play in every market, it is enjoyable for its hits and for dancing around the house with a kid.

I'm not going to be able to approach these without strong bias from my days in West Africa. Even if it is not something that would go into my regular rotation, this is an album that showcases a strong West African sound that fuses enough US/UK elements to be more widely appreciated.

The first few songs on this album had plenty of similarities to Postal Service. Wonder how much Pet Shop Boys influence their sound. There is some decent songwriting on this album but it is hidden by some pretty bland synth and drum machine combos that show their age. Hard to get beyond that so the album felt pretty monotone.

If Where the Wild Things Are was an album for adults. A brewing island of monsters that allows for our grumps and shadows.

Guitars, hotrods, suits, and beards. You know what you are getting from the start with this album and it drives all the way through with flames shooting out the tailpipe. Is that good for the car? For the world? I don't think it matters b/c it is lots of guitar on top of more guitar.

I really wanted more from this album. Listening after its been a few years, it just really feels like walking into the studio of an artist that is incredibly talented but can’t seem to finish what they’ve started. Unglazed vases, half-painted sketches, and unfinished novels strewn about. Lots of enthusiasm in the next project in the center of the room. The only thing finished are the cigarette butts heaped beside the mattress on the floor.

Perry took a bath and left a grungy ring in the tub that is this album. It's the grime that collects on you going out into the world, sweating on the streets. This album isn't an opportunity to cleanse. It this the reminder of the shit you've slogged through.

The Velvet Underground is a band that cool people always had on their list of favorites but I never heard them on their stereo or in their mix tapes. Was the aura of the band enough? The album has plenty to share. After Hours was even just a little pleasant surprise that could be thrown into any number of spotfiy lists. Maybe it was all just too personal to share. This is a replayable album. It has a consistent tone. It isn't hard to see why some would say it is borish. You get the critics about how it was mix by Reed. There are not enough flaws though to keep it from shining overall.

It's like someone made a collage that almost doesn't look like a collage. They put a lot of work into the flow of it and you really appreciate the attention to detail. BUT... the subject, theme, or general feel of the piece is just not that extraordinary. It doesn't scream listen to me AND THEN you find out it is a sampling album. It screams sample album from the beginning. Maybe they did it at a time when it was harder than just having a MacBook. Maybe they did it before others did. Maybe they spent hours pouring over each cut. Does it elevate the collage to the work of Basquiat? I think it falls short.

There are enough hits here that one knows from just being on the same block as anyone with a radio that the album almost auto gets three stars. But it is like a Coca Cola, good at commercials, you crave every so often, and it is bad for you if you constantly go for it.

A less rock n roll version of Bob Seger. A less hip version of Tragically Hip. It’s like all the pieces are there but somebody put the puzzle together wrong.

Proto-punk that will eventually lead to the Violent Femmes and plenty of Indie rock ala Modest Mouse much later--with plenty of genre influences strung in. Yet, I can't shake the clear 70's sound that lingers. An example of how this list often focuses on early creation points, not who did it best.

I wanted to like this but I felt stuck in an elevator. The longer it went, the more desperate I was to get out and move on to something else.

The songwriting here is next level. It's clear that he's a poet. It is also clear that you have to either love or overlook his voice to really love the album--each with its own ceiling. I did my best to ignore the Shatner-esque nature of his voice and spoken lyrics. In the end, I just wished that a bunch of different bands covered these songs to elevate them.

If you want to funk it up, then this is a good place to find yourself.

This is the King of Pop starting to find his feet. Only those feet are covered in platform shoes. Not quite ready to moonwalk through into legend. Some of this album showcases how MJ could surpass the trappings of a genre and redefine it--most of it holds to the aged disco aesthetic. Unfortunately, I'm not a big disco fan.

This album is all over the place; a hover car run through districts in some Bladerunner-inspired future. The rush, flashes of so many different styles, bumpy jerks of the turns, and the crashes into carts as you drive wildly down a market street are all here. It’s almost too much but a thrill.

Godfathers of grunge so I wanted to like this more. It was too much for me in youth. Too much for me as an elder millennial. Still not uncool enough in that cool way--even as I continually go back to Pearl Jam, Nirvana, etc. Maybe it was more a GenX thing--rebellion of the lumberjack and Microsoft kids before it was labelled.

I love that he broke this down. It made something completely outside my musical experience accessible. It is also clear that there is a tremendous amount of talent here with many years of study. In the end, my rating is of 2 stars is based on the fact that the music itself is not something I’d seek out. But now, I can better appreciate.

When something is new and revolutionary, it can later feel like a melodramatic imitation. The Kids and Sad Song seem self-indulgent in that “look everybody at where I’m willing to go” way. That diminishes the shine on a rather solid, mellow album.

I’m not at a British rave 30 years ago. If I was, then maybe this would be exciting, new, or revolutionary. Maybe. Hard to put it into perspective that far from the muddy aftermath of some boozed out, soon to be meth head’s first rave.

This album is on-point with the mixes and flow. So why does it feel like I'm being preached to by some overly enthusiastic freshman that thinks he's found some radical views on God and monogamy? This isn't speaking one's truth, it is judging and converting in hip form. Diminishes the talent here.

If you held on to JNCO's longer than you should, then you are probably still holding on to this album. There are radio hits in this album and Incubus was a top band in nu-metal but something here was rotten from the beginning and is now just washed out bones of a subgenre. Nu-metal's influence lives on even as its founding bands have fallen away because they failed to stay relevant or be outside their moment. Sorry, Incubus, you didn't get to fly away on that UFO that was going to take us all to a peaceful forest to trip out the rest of our days. Hope you aren't still sitting on the beach taking shrooms and waiting.

Given how much I enjoy other ABBA albums, I had higher hopes. There’s a carnival effect here that I can’t explain and puts me off. Dum Dum Diddle is a solid example. Sure Fernando rises above but too much of this album made me want to hit next track. Sorry, Grandma. I know you love them but this isn’t the one I’ll listen to over and over.

There is a lot of greatness on this album and some real cringe. Lemon? Uff, no. On a personal note, not my favorite Led Zeppelin album. The hits I know but aren’t high on my list. The rest wasn’t what I’d hope.

A big shiny robot comes and decides what will be played on the radio for all humankind. Some of the music just gets stuck in your head in an endless loop. The words don’t matter. Other songs have some meaning that you have no connection to at all. It’s there and whining its drill into the background of your brain. There is a flow but not emotions that register in your inferior flesh. I want to give this album a higher rating but I’m neither a robot or in a future ruled by them.

I couldn't tell you what songs were on this album and I just listened to it. How is that even possible? Trying to think back, it is just fog. No outlines. No impressions. Not even the curvy, fluffy edges of a cloud. Just greyish non.

House can be so boring unless you are in the vibe on the dance floor. This is the opposite. Radio playable. Stuck in your head. Simple but on another level.

Comfortable and approachable. This album is meant for a warm, peaceful summer day. You could fall asleep in the shade, reflect on a past love as you stare at the leaves above you. There are passing storms and distant thunder but the world is short of threats and open to possibilities when this album is on.

A breeze blows across the porch into a window, passes through a sunny room full of plants and people, swirls through an active kitchen, and out through the back door. Whispering along that wind is Joni Mitchell.

I made the mistake putting this on while walking to get my son. Strutted the entire way. What has it done to me? Did my kid just call me Daddio or is that just this album messing with my mind.

This album is a collection of so many things I love; great songwriting, immediately singable, alt-country, and the combo of complementing singers. Now need to go find this album on vinyl.

I could not be listening to this at a worse time. Because my reaction is “Dolly, you are singing about some bullshit in such a kind southern wink of a way and you know it. Quit couching toxic behavior in blessings. Being poor fucking suck. Damn that coat.”

Crosby is undeniably talented and I enjoyed parts of this album. Overall, nothing was memorable. I missed a spark somewhere.

This is a classic that feels like a classic. It has this moment that it is stuck in but represents that moment well. Like a wonderfully constructed museum piece. It is about that timeframe but also expansive enough to the current audience to enlighten them. Even if they don't have the full experience of that moment.

Country & Western by a British band that are incredibly talented. It's something different and fun. Is it the best of that genre? No. Does it expand rock? Yes!

An enjoyable elevator ride. What floor was I going to again?

This was the hardest rock band that the renaissance fair would allow to play for authenticity reasons.

There are some singer-songwriter chops here but Billy's accent just keeps me from getting into anything he's singing. It isn't his voice b/c he's modified his accent for other projects. Who knew that I definitely do not like this particular accent in a singer?

I really like The Smiths but this album is cutesy Smiths. The sound is there but the snarkiness of the song isn't all the appealing. So much better material from his band.

When you can remold stanky into a rallying cry, then you've done something. This is a freak flag flying and building the way for so many others to just do their version of weird.

Imagine that you can walk into a place where you know everyone in the band, you know almost everyone in the room, you've had hard times but the feel of the room counters that, and the music just sweeps through being a chant to an intimate, worn feeling. I'd shout along to these songs and hum them in the quiet.

An album that felt like it could've been important in 1966 but doesn't last the test of time. It is faded. An album to be found at Goodwill for a $1 to set a vibe at a '60's throwback party without everyone going... oh! that's the Beatles!

I try to get into Massive Attack but I think I missed the moment to really get into them. So I'm mostly just left with the theme song from House.

I've heard Biggie come up often in the gym or around. There's so much of his music that is of the moment and a deeper piece that extends beyond the trappings of a particular time. An album with a legacy that is both a reflection of survival and a clear look at rebellion without the Hollywood mask--a different mask still.

The first song is an ignition. First half is just gas and speeding on through. Then the turns towards the end get a little wobbly but it straightens out and finishes strong. Just like a crazy joyride with a bunch of kids with nothing to lose. Fun to be in that car. Scary to be in that car. Hell of a memory to have.

Not everything here is perfect. But it is unbelievable to think this was 1966. This album has enough in it to be a score of albums for other popular bands. It also inspired scores of more bands because there is depth here from a group that just like exploring the center to edge of music and back again.

Was is that I was in a bad place? Or maybe I like Gensis at such a different moment? This album was so hard to get. It couldn't be in the background but I couldn't get my head into it in the forefront. If it is a concept album, then I missed the premise.

This is such a conflict. Do you reject what you know b/c the band members are racist assholes? I know that good can come from a trash heap. That people grow and growth is fucking hard. It is not linear. Once I held many of the same views. That we are toxic when we are hurting. There's maybe something really great here in this album but also it is a terrible place to stay or be stuck. I can't fully reject the South. It's in my heart so I can't fully walk away from this album. But I can't listen to it without all the extra convos that come with it. That makes it so goddamn weighty for something that is supposed to rock.

The horns, the accent, and the voicing are just too much for my head. Hidden underneath are some pretty decent jams and pretty intense lyrics. It is a real slog to get through to that level and that is a bit of a shame. There was maybe more here than I ever gave credit for--one-hit wonder issues. That isn't enough for me to actually want to listen again.

Slim Shady was a mirror to misogyny. Eminem wasn't endorsing it as far as I saw. He was playing a character (maybe out of self-presevation) and just exposing the fucked up nature of it all. He was consumed by it b/c it consumes everyone and we just pretend like it doesn't exist. This is cringe. This is horrible. Even at the time, the satire aspect was clear but instead of that being the aspect picked up... people embraced it as lifestyle?! Like people that glorify Rick & Morty when it is meant to be a breakdown on the awful parts of us. When a mirror is held up to our worst parts that we could actually improve, we say "fuck it! that's my favorite part!" and that is the real legacy of this album. Unfortunate.

Fucking love this album! Mansize Rooster to Alright to Lose It is a great transition both musically and lyrically. This album solidly rocks with a sense of urgency, fun, and seriousness that is hard to pull off.

Depeche Mode’s best is a synth laden other world that is darker pop. At its worst, it is thrown cheese that missed its target and splatted on the floor in front of the goth kid. The first two tracks demonstrate it well. The rest of the album is a war between the two.

Three titans. Harmony. Pitch perfect times over slide guitars. Country in pure form. Unfortunately that comes with the down sides. Hymns of the patriarchy. Is she singing about loving Jesus or her husband? Is her husband God? Purposeful distortion that tastes sweet but is poison to anyone celebrating these titans.

I just couldn't get into this one. I got the theme. The instrumentals kept to the theme and were complex enough to be worthy of praise. Maybe I just wasn't in a dark, murdery type places. If I am, I know where to go.

I knew School's Out as does everyone that has ever set foot in a public school (or watch a movie about school from the 80's). It's fun but pandering. However, the rest of the album was more interesting than I would have thought. I can see why he developed more of a following than just becoming a one-off trend.

A peaceful serene trip through a valley. The fusion between western guitar and traditional northern Indian is seamless here. That's a pretty amazing feat.