Perfectly fine but massively overrated since day one. I refuse to continue that trend.

Australia's “most original band”? Maybe. “Least talented” seems a safer bet. Can you tell this book by its cover? You can.

Utterly unparalleled in quality, coherence, depth and range of emotion, plus epic singalongs, (personal) protest anthems twinkling tunes and tender – even heart-breaking – ballads. Not only are there no filler cuts, there’s nary a wasted note and Dylan’s voice has never been stronger nor clearer, and never more assured in delivery. One of the best records of all-time …. Easily top 5.

Just when you thought metal could go no lower, along comes to Linkin Park to add the most annoying elements of several other genres (especially emo) to drill deeper still. The combination of sheer awfulness with utter pomposity is potently toxic to the ears of anyone with any taste at all. How it sold 32 copies, let alone 32 million, boggles the mind, but that's popular taste, innit. See The Onion's Winner's History of Rock and Roll for the imbalance.

Such lovely, lively lo-fi. GBV keeps excellent company, too; that the streamers go from last cut of the record to an excellent cut from Yo La Tengo (a most egregious exclusion from this esteemed index) tells you what you need to know. Their brand new record (fall 2022) suggests how close RP has stayed to the vision, though perhaps not always to the optimal effect.

Feeling this is a little too quiet and modest (the original “twee” album maybe?) to be a full five stars but there are a few gems – ”Fly” and “Northern Sky” (the latter truly an all-time gem). I listened to this record so often in early 2000s that I may have worn it out. Also is downgrade due to “it’s been underrated so long that it actually become overrated” syndrome and the suffering at the hands of Wes Anderson. 4.1

Opener sets the tone, with just wicked, haunting guitars and drums so distant in the mix, like they were recorded down the hall in another room. A little less droning, a bit more melodic and touch more energetic than Seventeen Seconds. Still brooding but not as comprehensive a gloomfest. Is this record to emo what Gregorian Chant is to contemporary classical music? 3.65 but a reluctant 4 due to lack of hits and because their best work was still ahead.

Perfectly okay, but a bit maximalist and just too big for my tastes. I confess to some bias: my slots for this type of band and from this era have long been filled to capacity (and then some).

Everything a classic rock album should be – loud and proud, impassioned and (okay, sure) a little bombastic. They steal the blues template blatantly and shamelessly, of course, but somehow they expand, amplify and make the blues their own (e.g., “How Many More Times”) much more effectively than other bands that took the same starting point. Awesome opening moments on both “sides” – the drum-spliced riff on “Good Times, Bad Times” and the organ on “Your Time Is Gonna Come.” Plant is surely the best of this generation of vocalists – selling “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You” like an actor dying on stage, with such rollicking drama in the arrangement in the playing. Page is just a genius, unleashing massive, outlandish solos and jagged riffs, and then applying the subtlest of touches (e.g., the slide echos on “Your Time” and the pastoral bits on “Black Mountain Side”). And has there ever been a more authentically druggy song than “D & C”? Bonzo and JPJ lay down an appropriately bottom-heavy beat – like immovably leaden. One of the best debuts in rock and roll history, surely. My 16-year-old self is delighted that this record still sounds as good as it does.

Perfectly fine but massively overrated since day one. I refuse to continue that trend.

Gritty and funky, sad and even silly at time – a true career renaissance after 29 records and a stage setter for the sprawling and even weirder work to come in the decades that followed. There's a direct link from this record to Rough and Rowdy Ways! I'm a Lanois fan and love the atmospherics, but get the criticism of some of the production choices. Several of these songs that I turn to time and again, but a few mehs make me round down to 4 from 4.5. Maybe a slightly shorter record would have been better.

Sure it's demonic but its obnoxiousness is the bigger problem. The odd interesting figure and the mellower sections ("Piggy") and parts of the last song suggest that this project could have been much less of a spectacle, if not fully redeemable.

Perhaps the best Beatles record not made by the Beatles, this is maximalist chamber pop that veers into overindulgence now and then. Partridge sings like McCartney and writes songs like Lennon. There’s real joy and some pathos, and the quality is sustained at a high level across the record even it’s occasionally too clever by half. 4.2 for 4.

Sandy Denny's amazing vocals and the band grinds, chugs and sweeps over the folk material, updating it for modern times in ways that feel energizing and innovative on the one hand, and spiritually respectful and true on the other. There are dark and haunting moments, too, that add to the richness.

A masterpiece on multiple levels –  beats and samples, the rhymes and flows, plus world-class production. Plus, a ton of fun to listen to. Humor underrated in every genre of pop music and Tip et al make it look/sound so easy. Loved it 30+ years ago (Christ, can it be that long!?!?!) and it sounds just as good today.

Some cliches live up to the reputation, don't they, and I suppose IB was one of the reasons the ‘60s were the ‘60s? This could provide the soundtrack to any number of films from that decade. It’s heavy-heavy, with a bit more organ than ideal, and too sprawling, generally. (Infinite Jest might be the In-a-Gadda-Da-Vida of contemporary novels.) But the songs are surprisingly layered and varied. If you’re up for (maybe I mean down for) the heaviness, it’s a solid listen throughout, even intermittently tuneful and sweet. Not terrible for being terribly cliched, in other words. It would be cool to hear some contemporary groups cover these songs, but current acolytes seem thin on the ground. Still, it’s easy to see how they might have become Pink Floyd. “Flowers and beads are one thing" -- truer words have never been spoken. A for effort – meaning 3.6 for 4.

This was the record that made DS so popular that no one liked them anymore. Like everything they did, it’s of very high quality, but this one lacks life and edge. Serious points off for becoming ubiquitous (and thus annoying) in my first painful year of college (not entirely Knopfler’s fault it was painful) and generally being too polished, slick and too big a hit. Demerits also for using state-of-the-art (also smug) ‘80s production effects (keys and synths especially, Sting backing vocals). And for parodying MTV while being totally of it … by design and in execution. They wanted it both ways, I suppose, and got it. Trigger warning on the homophobic language, too – oh, that shameful go-go decade. The “Money for Nothing” hook is great, if obvious. “So Far Away” and “Walk of Life” are pretty good, too. “Your Latest Trick” and “One World” are tops to my ears, and the more considered non-hits in the middle and back stand up better than the chart-toppers. It’s interesting to me that the record ends very quietly, in contrast to the very loud opening hook of its most famous song. As a whole, it’s all far below (less artful, less serious, way too obviously reaching for mainstream acceptance) than the previous work – the first record, Love Over Gold and Making Movies especially. I like that it freed Knopfler to do what he wanted but he never got his mojo back (commercially or artistically) and has mostly noodled since. Sorry, book editors, but the production here makes this anything but “timeless” – who can hear this and not think mid- to late ‘80s? You want timeless, try “Water of Love,” “WIld West End,” “Romeo and Juliet,” “Skateaway” or “Telegraph Road.” One must be careful not dismiss things just because they’re popular, but, while this deserves a 4, I’m protesting and penalizing with a 3 because everyone (even the authors) still overrates this at the expense of the earlier, simpler and superior efforts.

Sharp and edgy as you’d expect, with a little more fluidity in the drama and darkness than on earlier records, plus a new inclination to droning. “Spellbound” sets a decent tone and “Arabian Knights” is strong. The vocals are distinct and memorable, though occasionally, it sounds as if she’s singing from down a long tube. The slashing-echoing guitars are intermittently interesting (e.g., “Into the Light”). Still, overall, this is hardly a masterpiece and fails to fully move. One’s now and then reminded of Adam and the Ants (which may or may not be a good thing). If this was the beginning of Goth, one wonders what the fuss is all about. Perhaps one has to be a sensitive and alienated adolescent to fully get it.A flat 3 (i.e., no bullets).

Big step up from previous records, this is mature and interesting and (befitting the title) a little dream-like. “Under the Pressure” is great here but has been elevated to epic proportions live. “Suffering” is also great. The rest of the record sets a mood, contemplative and near trance-like at times, but driving at others. There’s an expansiveness to the songs and the playing that seems like a perfect balance of the auteur effect and jam band tendencies. Subsequent records are even better – further growth – but this is an easy, straight-up 4.

I was unduly suspicious, though admiring, back in the day. It all felt a little too much, both too obvious and too cheeky. My suspicion came from too many young women (albeit cool ones) liking them, a general preference for more artful Anglo angst (aka, The Smiths) and perhaps a reluctance to embrace such raw emotion (not a trend that’s necessarily gone well since). It’s pretty bright for being so dark and holds up pretty well; a lot of volume gets produced from the small-scale configuration, plus generally crisp playing and a solid differentiation of songs. The records beyond this got pretty shaky pretty quickly. But the 4 is merited.

Creative and interesting, arty and glam, but, like everything involving Lou Reed, there’s more than a little pretension involved. Plus, it’s a bit over-indexed on Weimar/Berlin Babylon cabaret songs (as well as being oversexed, generally). The record seems to do what it sets out to do, but it all feels very much like playacting, with LR being coy about how camp he wants to be and placing style over substance (maybe blame Bowie for that). This is maybe the best thing he ever did, but it doesn’t fully preclude my view that he’s a little too famous for being famous and rode the VU’s and Bowie’s coattails. 3.4 for 3.

Consistently interesting and engaging, thanks to the instrumentation and atmospherics. Very distinctive voice, sort of wearied and soulful at the same time. Strong drumming and cool guitar effects on “Rolling.” I love the tone on “Piano Joint,” “Hard to Say Goodbye” and “Final Days.” A masterpiece of mood and vibe and fully deserving of its many accolades. 4.4 for 4.

Moderately interesting and energizing, this record reads like an amalgam of the contemporary indie/alt scene – some math rock, chillwave and slowcore elements and the odd shoegazing moment all thrown in the mixer. The synths and keys threaten to overwhelm a few tracks, but combine intriguingly and to strong effect with the core on a few cuts. I’m not sure how this snuck by me in real time, and I plan to listen again, but I don’t imagine I’ll find any great initially unheard depths. 3.4 for 3.

Most influential band of all time, blah, blah, blah. There’s less to like here than on the other records, as much as one admires the experimental bent and iconoclasm, which doesn’t fully come off anyway. “Sister Ray” is as gritty as art/noise rock got, but just because it was among the first of its type doesn’t make it a masterpiece. Anyone annoyed by Reed’s talky vocal style will be sent over the edge by “Lady Godiva’s Operation.” The muddy, submerged production is a big part of the issue – one wonders what this lot would have achieved with modern technology, including sampling (Cale’s later work suggests what might have been). The record’s commercial performance suggests sometimes bands get what they deserve, while its critical reception shows the power of revisionist history. 2.5 for 2.

Sweet, steamy and groovy – what’s not to like? It’s as if Marv is going for spirituality, too, a Song of Solomon for the sexual revolution. 4.2 for 4

I'm afraid I have to be true to my early-30s self and honor this record, because I loved it then. It was sad (as I was by temperament) and serious (as I ever hoped to be) and at times beautiful (ditto). It really does hold up pretty well, sounding gorgeous, substantively stylish and professionally made. But, God have they been mostly awful ever since (the Styx of this generation, as J. Hoberman once put it). 3.5 for 4.

Big, blowsy and beautiful, this is state-of-the-art late ‘90s rock from a fully mature band. No real clear hit jumps out but it’s solid from top to bottom, with every track offering something of interest. The mini-solo guitar flourishes in nearly every song are grace notes amid very interesting instrumentation and production choices (strings, bells, synths, acoustic instruments, etc.). The mood and tempo stays in a comfortable middle range with both hard edges and mellower moments to up the drama. This just sounds great, and is well worth knowing (not to mention another listen). 3.7 / 4

Is fully what it is – which is mainly chaotic and screechy. I guess you had to be there. Might also help to know more about the jams they were aiming to kick out and how/why they were/are different than countless other politically outraged combos yowling their heads off in garages around middle America. Maybe just screechier and more chaotic? The big, slabby, psychedelic guitar riffs are decent; one half-expects them to break into “Wild Thing” at a few moments. Their oft-repeated “thank yous” at the end of every song are interesting; for outraged protesters, they seem awfully grateful and even mannerly toward the audience (not that that’s a bad thing). What this is not is musical or very listenable. Like, literally – it’s nearly impossible to hear what’s being shouted … er, sung. Also seems worth noting that a good bit of what's audible sounds like it might be about love and, you know, girls, not the military industrial complex, the pigs, racism, etc (though of course one can make out a bit of that stuff, too). Lastly, would Sun Ra consider this a tribute? Maybe including one (or more) of his records would help us know. 1.5 for 2 (and only because rounding up makes me feel slightly better about my lack of political commitment and because I’m sure the live shows were fun and as many got laid as achieved consciousness-raising).

Really holds up well. The songs are all mini-masterpieces and my amazement at its quality seems as fresh 40+ years on. The songs are interesting and accessible and the playing suggests the band is having fun and there are just enough barbs, bitterness and irony to elevate it above commercial pop. The pure New Yorkiness is great, too – think early years of SNL and Woody Allen and the Big Apple’s bankruptcy. We know “Only the Good Die Young” is a great rock n roll song because Catholic mothers all over the country were warning of its evils in the late ‘70s. Only dud for me is the snoozefest “She’s Only a Woman.” The reprising whistle ending is a nice touch to close out a fun and musically substantive ride. 4.5 for 5.

Love the jazziness, the flow, and the sheer all-over-the-place-ness of it. I lack historical perspective on and deep knowledge of the genre, but know full-on artistic commitment when I see (or hear) it and this is definitely that. Plus, lots of fun hooks and echoes – “we gonna be all right” indeed. Engaging and cool and a helluva lot of fun. 4.5 / 5.

Fun and one-of-a-kind. I wish it didn't sound so much like a novelty act. "Gigolo" is great, as is "Buona Sera" but I don't dig what he does to "Basin Street Blues" (which sounds just like "Gigolo" btw) and "Sleepytime" (which is meant to be soporific, editors, and certainly not to be hollered). Hard not to admire just how all-in he is here, and sure the band is tight and boisterous, but does it all have to be so jokey and schticky? Again, this is fun, but at best these are a few songs to know, not a record you must hear before dying (especially relative to the many, many other worthier jazz options not pictured here). 3.1 / 3.

Let’s start saying the obvious: Bruce is an all-time talent/genius whose average work (which this album feels like) is often well above the best output of other artists. And isn’t this a record we already know and is already too well known (and suffers from being so) and therefore needs no more knowing (or listening before death) and indeed might benefit from less knowledge? How would we feel about this record if it hadn’t been such a big hit. Tunnel of Love, for instance, would be more worth knowing (for being less well known and certainly less appreciated). There many good-to-very-good songs: “Bobby Jean,” “No Surrender,” “Downbound Train,” “I’m Going Down,” “Darlington County” are a clear notch down from Bruce’s best, though much better than mere filler and – again – much, much better than average outputs from lesser artists. Indeed, some of these songs would be the best work of other artists. So, this is largely down to how we feel about the “hits” (what charted, got radio play) and “the hit” (title track) in particular. “I’m on Fire” is a very good song, lovely and a touch haunting, but more accessible than mysterious (let’s be honest). Listening from the distance of years now (first time in near forever), I’ve noted the way the guitar sounds like “Every Breath You Take” which makes real sense, right, in the context of the reaching for commercial impact. “Cover Me” is basically replacement-level Boss, pretty good, pretty urgent, but non-transcendent. “Dancing in the Dark” is a good song, quite enjoyable, but in the broadest and most obvious way (the synth is vaguely AMSR, plus Courteney Cox [blah, blah, blah]). “Glory Days” I find obnoxious largely for 3 reasons: 1. the keyboard schmaltz (whatever) and 2. (more importantly) because it could/should have been much better. Imagine it as a dark ballad – solo acoustic, say – the bittersweet sentiments call for such. 3. The “speedball” for “fastball” mistake is borderline unforgivable, even allowing for the possibility that Bruce was attributing to the character in the song (though even he should have known better and I see no evidence of it being a druggie joke [by either Bruce or the song’s narrator]). Which brings us to the title track: “Born in the USA” is straight-up a great track. But the mass misinterpretation by huge numbers of listeners (many of them credulous, uninformed and uninterested in communities such as this one) begs the question of Bruce’s culpability. Could the anthemic-ness have been toned down to honor the darkness more directly? The song is dark, Bruce’s is ranting cri-de-couer-like, but rock fans (even his) want to, you know, rock, so here we are. It’s the dividing line of taste for entire generations and is so often the case the sheer numbers of my fellow Americans seem to be on a different side than the one on which I’ve landed. Has to be a 4 but a conflicted one, with multiple caveats.

Decent but iron-deficient. Minimalist to the point of approaching insubstantiality. Like a one-track tape of a Cure recording session. More dozy than dreamy. The biggest problem is that all the best hooks and grooves are cut off prematurely. There’s a likable modesty that avoids twee-ness (thank God) but never gets beyond or resolves the pleasant state of suspension it reaches on track after track. One wonders, for ex, how the undeniably (and inoffensively) groovy opener would sound like if left to fully expand and turn into, you know, a song. Similarly, “VCR” works as an homage to old tech, but the downside of that authenticity is that it risks sounding like an outdated video game (albeit one played by emo-tending lonelyhearts). Another ex: “Islands” raises the heart rate briefly and then, well, ends. The best hooks on the entire record – as on “Night Time” – need (and deserve) more space and time, too. The overall effect is awfully ‘80s – who else wants Bronson Pinchot or Griffin Dunne to star in a movie to which this is the soundtrack? The record merely interests, never impels. 3.1 (but only for pro-genre bias) / 3.

This is included ironically, right? Or just for time-capsule effect? Because this is about as banal as pop music can be. It ranks with sugar-free gum, shag carpet and curling irons as ‘70s cultural touchstones.

No album title in this collection more accurately reflects its contents. While Kylie’s presence offers a nice break from the mostly tedious vocals, this is mostly gloomy and turgid (but one should have expected that). 2.5 > 2

Eerie and dreamy and totally cool, but also static, almost posing. It could do with some tunefulness. It’s all moods, with little flow and next to no harmony. Trip-hop is not aging all that well; here, the over-reliance on the same little scratchy sound-effect speaks to a passing (now long past) moment of coolness; these songs are equally transitory, if still cool, which lands them somewhere between triviality and ephemerality. 3

There are high degrees of interest and variety throughout (e.g., chiming “Words, the highly distorted “N.Y,” dreamy and thoughtful “Sulphur Man”). Overall, it feels an update – and building on strengths of – classic Mancunian sounds. The sound (vocals in particular) start to wander, concerningly into Coldplay territory late on, without fully blossoming into full self-importance and pomposity. Straight-up likable and engaging and worthy of further listening.

So good, so deserving of broader awareness and appreciation and so damn fun. Tight playing and witty lyrics. “Let the Sad Times” and “Wham Bam” are faves. Thanks to Dwight Yoakam for keeping the torch alive.

So now that raves are done, shouldn’t we be one with such as this? The songs get to a place but no further, though these sound (very) slightly less dated that others in The P’s dreadful oeuvre. At best, this is a soundtrack for a movie I’m glad not to be watching or a video game I don’t want to play.

It’s easy to like an artist that saves the hit to the very end. “Constant Craving” is a great song, and the lead-up is languid, then charming, then stylish, then smooth – every track thoughtfully conceived (merging jazzy torch songs with country textures) and executed with verve and polish, the singing assured and accomplished, the playing distinctive and adroit. Well done, k.d.

Any record that opens with “Sympathy” has a huge headstart, but it builds from there; just the transition to “No Expectations” points to the mostly mellow and sometimes lovely journey ahead. “Parachute Woman,” “Jigsaw Puzzle” and “Factory Girl” are all underappreciated gems. The playing feels loose, almost tossed-off at times, but it’s actually quite crisp and controlled – what the Stones did best, not exactly making it look easy but looking cool and insouciant while doing it well (and sometimes wild). All that plus “Street Fighting Man,” the awesomeness of which is easy to forget somehow and a truly great closer (\"Salt of the Earth\"), a fitting and graceful crescendo. The straightforward approach and seemingly narrower ambition paid out an incredible yield – the best-ever Stones record (no mean feat, that). 4.8 / 5

Tense and dramatic, with some quite engaging ideas presented, but very little tunefulness or resolution. Too arty by half.

Clear muscular hip-hop. Shout-out to Kevin Loughery’s footwear is a personal highlight.

As unsubtle as LC’s voice is, the lovely and light-touch accompaniments make the record. Consider the quiet, pointed strings, barely audible aria-like vocals and picked flamenco riffs in the background of “Blue Raincoat.” The piano on “Sing Another Song” is more prominent, but plays the same role, both underpinning and elevating the emotional power, and enriches the quite engaging singalong. The lilting backing vocals on “Joan of Arc” (and another mini-singalong chorus).

Artful and elegant and evocative, has the feel of fully hand-crafted and intensely personal music. The combo of synths and strings is most impressive, really thoughtful textures with the observational lyrics and actorly delivery makes this feel quite a literary record – just a lovely summing up of what it means to be alive. “Automobile Noise” is a particular fave among uniformly strong tracks.

I mean, it's fine, but who cares? The brass and percussion are dead tight but I can't speak to why this is innovative or what makes it a must-hear. Appropriate for some settings, I suppose but not that many.

As good a reggae record as I've ever heard. The Tosh songs are faves among almost uniformly excellent tracks. Nothing not to like here.

Australia's “most original band”? Maybe. “Least talented” seems a safer bet. Can you tell this book by its cover? You can.

Didn't know this record on the whole, only a few of the hits, and so was skeptical of his reputation. Pop music distorts our perspective but going back years/decades later can redeem. It's really very good overall. The distinctive voice and delivery. Authentically psychedelic, with some madrigal vibes here and there, but much less cliched-seeming or caricature-like than many other records of this era sound today. Glad. to discover 50+ years on.

As with so many things Bowie, it’s overly affected and overdone. Ronson overplays and the shrill edge grates after just a few tracks. Major points off for the seriously misguided “Let’s Spend the Night Together” and the quite turgid “Jean Genie” the appeal of which has never been clear to me.

All the songs are great (or nearly so) and everybody who ever set out to do a break-up album (or poem or novel) can only dream of such success. Still it’s maybe not as interesting (for not being as sprawling or messy) as Tusk. I don’t really follow the song sequencing. The opener and closer both feel out of place – not the best way to start or end. Everything in between is aces, as one used to say, if a little too neatly packaged.

A most pleasant listen if slightly pretentious (just too earnest) at times (see last cut). Some lovely moments – the title cut/opener, and “For Emily” – and pretty authentic as a ‘60s artifact (both a weakness and a strength). One tries not to let anti-Simon feelings that have emerged in the years since (not just cultural appropriation but the sense of entitlement and just being insufferable as a person) cloud one’s objective judgment on this one.

This is a classic of tone and one can make a case it’s his best written album overall; it is to Born to Run as Nebraska is to Born in the USA.

Really good and unexpectedly substantive . The sax steals the show on several cuts and this one’s easily my fave version of “All Tomorrow’s Parties.”

Winsome, groovy and trippy (maybe to a fault with “Space Odyssey” and the uber-outre “Moog Raga” on the expanded version). Such a great brand that went from strength to strength during these years, despite turmoil. This album holds up excellently well and their influence shines through.

Not sure what to do with that title. I think I heard this record in late '90s but it didn't stick. Glad to hear again, though probably unlikely to stick, which means I can’t pack it as a desert-island disc.

Elegant and elegaic. A fitting swansong for a constantly evolving artist.

A clear bridge form punk to post-punk, one hears a lot of what was to come in the 1980s and ‘90s. The sneering vocals sound an awful lot like The Fall. The Smithereens stole “Memories Are Made of This” for “Blood and Roses.” and doesn’t “Orstralia” sound like “Sweet and Tender Hooligan.” 3.5 rounding up for being so influential.

I hated this much less than I expected to 40 years on for putting up with its popularity live and IRL. The engaging opener sets the tone. Still, it remains way too dancey-cheesy for my tastes. Of this ilk, give me the way cooler and much cheekier Blow Monkeys, more raffish Duran Duran and in all ways superior Style Council.

Just enough indie rock vibe and energy (“Regular John,” “If Only” “You Can’t Quit Me”) to keep this from being another tired and redundant hard-rock/metal-adjacent record (though “Walkin on the Sidewalk” and “The Bronze” get pretty close). Not my thing exactly and won’t listen again (might try Kyuss), but a few appreciable hooks save this from full-on forgettability.

Has not gotten better with age, though perhaps not significantly worse either. MJ really gives himself over to these songs, breathlessly so at times, but there’s far, far too much going on productionwise (heavy synths, overreaching guitar solos, the seven-layer vocals, the odd outer space sound effect). There’s a straining for maximum impact on many songs that don’t offer a ton. The musical equivalent of daytime TV, which was big back in the day, but not really worth watching – neither then nor now.

The Platonic Ideal of big doofy rock, early ‘70s edition – with all the self-indulgence and useless, feckless excess you’d expect from a live album. The vocals are overwrought, so many misbegotten arias (though our man Gillian seems distinctly underpowered and non-god-like on beginning of “Highway Star” and “The Mule” and quite shaky “Space Truckin’”). The solos (both keys and guitar) on opener gets us straightaway into Spinal Tap territory, as does the subject matter (boss hot rods and bitchin’ Camaros, one supposes). “Smoke on the Water” gets off to a false start and sounds offbeat, like they couldn’t get the hang of a hook they must have already played thousands of times. Might it be said they explored virtuosity in a hard rock context, thereby staking new ground that jam bands (including mellower, pacifistic sorts given to softer drugs and disinclined to put armadillos in their trousers) would later explore and colonize (often overstaying their welcome)? Sure, but whether that’s a feature or a bug depends on one’s tastes. This is decidedly not to mine, because the longer it goes on, the more tedious it gets, which, one assumes, was not the intent of this allegedly epic effort.

Very much the kind of thing you’ll like if you like this kind of thing. Excellently well executed with lots of high-level soloing and some huge, way-swinging hooks. Such well-integrated playing – orchestral and strong in the details, too. Highlights for me include “After Supper” and “Lil’ Darlin’.” Shouldn’t the Foo Fighters cover “Flight of the Foo Birds”?

The name of the record and the cover shot are ridiculous -- could not be more so. It's easy to see why this dinosaur disappeared from the earth not tool long after this.

A record in my sweet spot, a high water mark of my college radio prime. I still have the vinyl shared promotionally by the record co. Every cut works well on its terms, and the record is the antithesis of the one-hit-wonder in that sense, but it’s hard to believe they never made another album – sound like the perfect got to be the enemy of the good. The final track still amazes, pulling together the records many to build something new; the whole is very much more the sum of its parts, which might also be said of the record a whole.

Low key and lovely, maybe not my favorite Drake, but awfully good. “Saturday Sun” is a career highlight. “Time Has Told Me” and “Cello Song” are also great.

As good as this type of dance-plus music can be. It's a little angsty, as if we're dancing to forget and be free of the pain. The bass lines and epic and most of the synth hooks hold up. It gets a bit same-y toward the back.

A hip-hop album that seems to want to be an industrial or noise rock album. The bombastic rhymes are well matched by the bombastic samples and the “more is more” production choices, sound effects and beats. Its popularity is what it is, one supposes, but this fails to land for me.

Wild and loose but also beautifully layered. Bolan had a great voice and there's a sense of anything goes to the production – reaching for max impact and the big gesture, even in the acoustic songs. A big, messy, sprawling work of rock and roll art.

Sweet and soulful. Layered and lovely. Joyous and uplifting. “It Ain’t No Use” is great.

Mostly good unclean fun. The surfer-slacker vibe is not real credible given how much they wanted to be — and succeeded in becoming — big stars. Repetitive AF with nearly every song having the same gronky and crunching guitars and greasy licks.

Generic-sounding. Uses the same shaking effects and jittery beats that one hears everywhere. Vocals are fine, her voice is here and there lovely but nothing to get excited about here, but one allows for the possibility that, not knowing the genre, one may be missing considerable subtlety.

This isn’t the best he’s done, but I love what he does and this works well throughout.

Way better than other metal on this list, primarily because one can hear the playing, which isn’t to say it’s actually worth one’s time.

Challenging but still pleasurable. Ellingtonian in a good way, though darker and more discordant, and maybe outright sexier, too.

The hype to quality ratio is still too high but there’s much more to this than one remembered. The record is pretty fun and listenable, with some thoughtful songs that cool things out. Still, this is much a better record than one would have suspected. The covers are mostly dumb but the record isn’t nearly as naughty or silly as one might have suspected. The hype was of unsuitable “The-Beatles-Are-Coming!” pitch and the one mega hit plus one big one (“Two Tribes”) seeming like maybe it could last, which of course it didn’t any more than a minute.

Awfully ‘80s sounding for a hot, 21st century act from NYC. Way more disco-y and synth-y than I recall. The producer’s love for all things Duran isn’t too terribly concealed here. Is the fadeout synth revelry on “Dragon Queen” a sample of Tangerine Dream or just an outright ripoff? The latter, quieter half of the record is much preferred. Feels richer and less frantic/forced. Not terrible, certainly, but not deeply moving or elevating either.

Extremely polished and accomplished and benefitting greatly from expert production (which is a reminder of why at least one and probably multiple records from The National should be in here), this is the work of a maturing artist.

R.E.M. at their loosest, most confident and most fun. Great mix of tunes, “A Finest Worksong” is an awesome opener (banged live, too), “Exhuming McCarthy” a boisterous blast and “King of Birds” a beautiful toning down toward the end. I’ve never loved the hits as much as others, though “The One I Love” holds up as a lean, classic. I have a long history with the band so hard to stay objective, but this record still sounds bold and fresh and fun, and continued R.E.M.’s hot streak that lasted well over the decade, a run that holds its own against that of any other band, ever.

Raw and authentic as Janis always was, but more polished and tighter than other of her records (especially those with overly loud Big Brother). Lots of winners here, including "Bobby McGee," a classic among classics, and really no losers on either side. There's also a touch of sweetness to these blues that belies the early death.

Just not qualified to judge this but I enjoyed hearing it and I will listen again. I get the links to doo-wop and gospel, though I have no clue how innovative or subtle, etc. this might be. One is glad that world music, a mockable trend, did offer benefits such as introductions to bands such as this.

One can’t hate grooves this fat (pre-Phat) just because they’re disco. Much of this feels more like R&B (the languid pop of “Savoir Faire,” the R&B ballad [not quite slow jam] of “At Last I’m Free”) than the much reviled d-word genre. If you can’t dig this (and these bass lines in particular), your problem is much bigger than disco.

While the music is pretty dull and doofy, this is lyrical poetry of the highest order, no? She had the face of an angel Smiling with sin A body of Venus with arms Dealing with danger Stroking my skin Let the thunder and lightening start It wasn't the first It wasn't the last It wasn't that she didn't care She wanted it hard And wanted it fast She liked it done medium rare I mean, these guys must be scholars of the pre-Renaissance Italian troubadours of the 12th-century – the golden age of the sestina (which “Touch Too Much” clearly is, with only the slightest modernizing modifications) – to write such refined verse.

This is how English rock singers and indie rock bands were supposed to sound, circa 1992 – just the slightest sneering to the singing and the loosest . So call it state-of-the-art. This band is in one’s sweet spot, both temporally (i.e., era) and stylistically (i.e., a phile of Britpop in all its forms). But the operative question here is how well it holds up, and the answer is, very well.

Like so much of mid-’80s pop, the synths date this and it doesn’t hold up quite as well as one would’ve thought. A handful of great songs but a few too many throwaways.

Cool and moody, tough and tremulous, this is gold-standard indie rock of early 21st century, or any era, really. Awfully Big Apple for a non-New York record. “Good Fortune,” “The Mess We’re In” and “You Said Something” are all major tunes. “Horses in My Dreams” is haunting and austere and “We Float” about as hopeful as the uncompromising PJH does. Sounds both very much of its time and timeless.

Meh. Janis would get a lot better and not sure BB&THC were ever any good.

Metal is dumb.

There's no doubting that GM has a great voice and the sales figures are impressive but also tired by now, well past its sell-by date and pretty forgettable overall. “Kissing a Fool” is an all-time personal fave (how much more frequently one wishes these pop stars would go classic and/or cover traditional standards as it hihghlights [maybe flatters] their talent). "Hand to Mouth" is good, too, but much of the rest suffers from overpackaging and overexposure (which do go together, don't they?). Bright shining pop music so polished and sheeny that it's no wonder he wore shades. For all the shiny surface, the substance (if there was any) has long since died off.

Way overdone from top to bottom, with too much of everyhing (including her star power and ambitions). Simple pop songs, infectious dancey hooks are made to bear too much weight (primarily of Madonna’s artistic and cultural ambitions) – one hears a star wanting to be even bigger and brighter and the songs aren’t the right platform, lacking much more than glittery surfaces and studio tricks. The songs aren’t necessarily bad – ”Til Death Do Us Part” and “Promise to Try” have their appeal, but even “Cherish,” the best of the lot, ultimately fails to move one beyond the sense of “oh, that’s sorta pleasant.” The whole thing nets out as just okay, which hardly seems worth all the effort and expense. One gets the feeling all of the songs would’ve been improved by abridgement. It’s a truth not commonly enough acknowledged that pop songs such as these falter once they get past the 3-minute mark. … their sell-by date is three minutes. The claim that this is best pop record since Revolver is ridiculous.

Another mega-pop artist one struggles to get and/or is not much moved by.

Bleak and grim and utterly beautiful. It’s amazing that an artist would go this direction at such a point in his career and fully explore one dimension of his talent and creativity. “Atlantic City” and “Open All Night” are great, but “Mansion on the Hill” and “Highway Patrolman” are sublime. The last section lags a bit, which is the only thing keeping this as sub-5. And I’ve always wondered: who dances to “The Night of the Johnstown Flood”? 4.5

Raw and rocking. Moon's bashing is a highlight. One prefers their studio work, which favored their artfulness and melodies (and made Daltrey sound better) over the pimal energy on display here, which is considerable. This isn't to be underestimated and shows off their extensive range and how they predicted both mod and punk. Somehow, tis' easy to overlook how great they once were; perhaps they didn't fly quite as high as the Stones (though one could make the case) but then they've not quite as fully embarrased themselves (though getting quite close) with umpteen farewell tours.

Huge overrated and not nearly as powerful, poetic, passionate as it desperately wants to be. It works in moments, but not in any sustained way and it just sounds raw and exhibitionistic and overly emoted now. Who cares enough about "Gloria" to search for the irony or the deconstruction? Same as the imagistic dream of "Horses" morphing into "Land of a Thousand Dances." Its reputation seems vastly overblown all these years on.

Meh to middling. One likes the attempt to pare back a bit, to aim for intimacy and quietude, rather than oversinging as Frank was way too wont to do, but it just fails to move. One wishes editors found other jazz or samba records or others by Jobim rather than this obvious-seeming choice.

Overstuffed with too many ideas and just too much going on. Awfully fun, but ultimately the center does not hold.

What a waste of time and anger. There seems a distant chance Ian Mc has a sense of humor about this ... but it's distant. One pities all the people who had these t-shirts, as if the in-joke was worth knowing.

The sweet slow numbers are better than the debauched rockers. Bonus points for the iconic (for once that overused word is accurate) cover imagery.

Haunting and haunted. Hard to imagine a more intense process of turning grief into art.

Rawer and angrier than debut, but neither as affecting or effective overall. Undeniable intensity and points for originality on Dylan cover and artiness on "Man-Size Sextet" but otherwise more rancorous than memorable.

More monotonous than hard-core. Maybe because of all we've heard in the years since, this sounds like your basic funky metal (and not all that heavy either). And, hey editors, where exactly is the reggae?

Back in Black AC/DC 2.5 2 So much of this is hard to credit and/or take seriously, even if they had a notably tight and crisp sound for a hard rock band of this era. One confesses to have once liked this (as an adolescent, of course, but even then knew enough to keep it to myself and view this as a guilty pleasure). “You Shook Me” is all-time pure rock song. The rest is pretty flat and meh – some of it would be offensive if it weren’t so moronic (e.g., “Givin’ the Dog a Bone,” “Let Put My Love Into You”) “Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution” is a clear case of protesting too much. In the canons curated by teenage boys, this would rate much higher of course.

Original and excellent throughout. "Party Girl" and "Accidents Wil Happen" are career highlights but every track has considerable merit.

Music at its most mystical.

If the reputation is that the band barely talked to each other – that it was a bunch of solo songs and performances – then I suggest more bands take that approach. Some very good songs here ”– “Expecting to Fly” and “Broken Arrow” and “Everydays” and “Hung Upside Down." It wasn't hard to see how these guys would go on to do such great work.

Rockin and cool, some epic reach that still feels rootsy in grasp.

Awfully good to be so little known. Cope deserved more, though the tunes are quirky and they get a little synthy at times (curse of the '80s). Still, one hears easily how they were admired and imitated -- classic intense New Wave, with some dark humor thrown in.

A delightful crowd pleaser for all ages, this record threads the needle between the excesses of both glam and prog, primarily by focusing on great hooks, tunefulness and fun. Indeed, one traces a likable lack of embarrassment about making music to be enjoyed. Jeff Lynne does it all – compose, orchestrate, sing and entertain. A few top-class songs ("Turn to Stone" and "Sweet Talkin' Woman" and "Mr Blue Sky" [basically light opera]) plus lots more fun ("Birmingham Blues") and a few credibly poignant moments ("Steppin' Out" and "Big Wheels"). One believes ELO is unnderrated given that they are accessible and (at least somewhat) derivative of the Beatles and didn't act like tortured artists. But one counts 8-10 first-rate and near-canonical songs in their library that hold up well 40 years on, which can only be rated a triumph (even after discounting for the work on Xanadu and with the Traveling Wilburys). 4.3/4

Great raw and psych-y blues, vintage-sounding but layered and enriched to modern standards. Last few cuts are excellent and deliver more via less banging than earlier cuts.

Every jazz record in this collection seems to scream for more jazz records in this collection. Maybe Sassy oversings (or overemotes) onm a few songs but my is the voice a powerful thing of beauty.

Fun to hear and hard not to like, but sorta basic and casual-seeming.

Just classic and vintage. The playing is so good and the odd time signatures (which have been overemphasized) simply don't get in the way of anyone's pleasure.

Utterly unparalleled in quality, coherence, depth and range of emotion, plus epic singalongs, (personal) protest anthems twinkling tunes and tender – even heart-breaking – ballads. Not only are there no filler cuts, there’s nary a wasted note and Dylan’s voice has never been stronger nor clearer, and never more assured in delivery. One of the best records of all-time …. Easily top 5.

Eerie and likably weird. One likes the understatement and minimalistic, almost downbeat feel of this.

What vibes and what solos. Still packs a punch. Only knock is that "Watchtower" feels a bit out of place here, as great as it is.

Like bubble gum, the flavor wears out soon and one is left feeling a bit sticky. Still, what we sensed on first listens in 6th and 7th grade – the newness and power and freshness; the screaming shininess – is not entirely lost on us even now, all these productive and cynical years later.

Isleys are seriously under-appreciated, both as hitmakers and players. There's some great playing here and rich interpretations on the covers.

It grooves and it swings and the first few cuts have a slightly exotic feel, but then vibes its way into a sorta generic ‘60s energy. Glad to know it (if only for the epic “Revelation”) but one won’t be playing it at one's funeral.

Mature and balanced, a very good record and by aiming for more understatement than in previous efforts, Morissey wins bigger. The controlled melancholy works beautifully. This is how pop stars can/should age gracefully.

So much more than the title track and "Vincent." Didn't know what to make of the record in high school and college; now it makes much more sense as substantive (and earnest) easy listening. One gets why DM's half-conceived as a one-hit wonder and got imprisoned by title cut, which can be hard to take seriously, but still entertains and reads like just about the best of heartfelt creative-writing-seminar, collage-y cultural history cum criticism (Dylan without the obscurity, say).

Tuneful and melodic from the first to the last not, with great hooks and several absolute classics of the genre (starting with "Birdland"). Has aged extremely well (one woudln't have guessed), but masterful playing is timeless, innit? An outright pleasure to hear (on one's deathbed or any time) to be reacquainted with.

Ready to Die The Notorious B.I.G. 3.7 4 Not entirely one's joint, but one likes the mix of East Coast attitude with West Coast vibes and the uniqueness of the voice, as well as the leanness and tightness of the overall mid-tempo mood. One can speak to the authenticity or the credibility of the tales of hustling and sexcapades.

Sign me up for no guitar solos and a simple approach that actually proved quite influential. Still, the record sounds utterly simplistic and almost like a novelty act. Might they be the exact midpoint between The Monkees and Sonic Youth?

Sure, it's direct and clean, but also sounds a bit light and tinny, doesn't it? Maybe even tame. Rodgers' voice frays noticeably on "Rock Steady," undercutting the promise of the title. Takeaway: people in the '70s would buy anything sold to them, musically. This feels like testament to the dodgy taste of mid-'70s rock and roll simpletons, of which there were clearly many. "Don't Let Me Down" is homogeniety itself -- beat and rhythms, solo and vocals (but no doubt would sound great if one were waving a lighter about in one of that benighted era's acoustically unsound arenas) and not even close to John Lennon's tune (of which this seems a half-cover). "Movin On" is okay but far from compensates from many other faults (the unconvincing faux drama of the title cut –– "ooh, we're shaking in our boots, you're so bad!" –– and the silly paean to "Seagull").

A few engaging and immersive tracks but just too synthetic and disco-y to attain anything like timelessness. Editor review seems appropriately unsure on the same point, which makes this record, as enjoyable as it is, an obvious candidate for being dropped.

It all sounds so familiar – the chiming and jangly guitars, the countrified frills, the dreamy lyrics, the tension between mellowness and a druggy sort of edginess – that it’s hard to remember how new it must have sounded in the mid-60s. It sounds so much less dated than much else from this era. One likes their take on “Rider,” an often dull and flavorless ‘60s chestnut.

A masterpiece – maybe THE – masterpiece of indie rock. Certainly the Smiths best record, which is no small feat.

Somehow not as good or fresh or original-seeming as it once was, without being in any way bad.

Cool and pleasant. Alternatively meditative and (lightly) energizing. Best songs: “ISI,” “Seeland” “Leb Wohl” and “E-Musik." More satisfying than Kraftwerk, but not without clunkers, such as "Hero," the grating vocals of which breaks the proto spa-chill effect.

Roils and moils. Some great licks and cuts on first half, second half darker and more exploratory. One likes both halves, while recognizing the merits of the target criticisms (i.e., too-cool-for-school, prententious-in-its-artiness/avant-garding).

Ranging from dark and soaring epics to the sweet and tuneful tite cut and it’s all about ambiences and textures throughout. Seemed one-of-a-kind when it came out and fascinated everyone, putting Cool Icelandia back on the map. The scale and dreaminess hold up pretty well.

Timelessly excellent funk and samba. All 70s music should have been this rich and compelling. Sounds contemporary still.

Ahead of its time re collaging and world music? Sure. Interesting? Not so much. This suffers from the science experiement effect and a massive lack of lyricism and musicality.

Just when you thought metal could go no lower, along comes to Linkin Park to add the most annoying elements of several other genres (especially emo) to drill deeper still. The combination of sheer awfulness with utter pomposity is potently toxic to the ears of anyone with any taste at all. How it sold 32 copies, let alone 32 million, boggles the mind, but that's popular taste, innit. See The Onion's Winner's History of Rock and Roll for the imbalance.

A bit too raw and confessional. One much prefers Summer Lawns, which is of more interest musically and less painfully vulnerable.

Hard to say where homage and admiration bleed into appropriation but one's always had a soft spot for this record, despite being Simon-bearish generally (for reasons of being overrated and difficult to work with). "Diamonds" is one of the best tracks of the decade, transcending the shiny-tinkling '80s production vibes. Quite a few other very solid tracks make for a thoughtful and mature record overall.

A religious experience for jazz fans, but for others probably not so much. It's elevating and otherwordly, but other more accessible Coltrane albums (My Favorite Things, Giant Steps [not Boo Radleys for Chrssakes!], Blue Trane, Soultrane, Ballads) are just as worthy of inclusion, through for different reasons.

Cold and charmless, sterile rather than sophistcated, records like this gave New Wave a bad name.

So many other 'Mats records could/should be in this list but this is completely worthy candidate. A sometimes great, sometimes indifferent band that is perhaps the essential '80s indie rock band – “Unsatisfied” and, “I Will Dare” “Androgynous,” “Seen Your Video” “Sixteen Blue” and “Answering Machine” all very strong, too.

Original and different. More folk than prog, and slightly underrated (though for a reason). Anderson is a good singer and is easily a top 5 all-time rock and roll flutist.

Pretty cool it was chart-topper. No doubt the controversy helped sales and Cube was afraid to dial up the posturing, though whether or not it was authentic or legit one isn’t qualified to judge. Worse was made of all the riotous energy of post-riot, post-Rodney King, LA than this record. “Good Day” and “Check Yo Self” are the highlights.

A very cool mid-80s sound coming in a few years early. Intersesting and edgy, without feeling quite like a major hallmark. Still bonus points based on all the goodness to come, best signalled by the steel drums rather subtly slotted into the opener.

Truly one of a kind, Monk's compositions are both off-kilter and highly enjoyable. The top-notch players around him make this record, which is only one of several of his that could/should have been included.

Decent, middle of the road tunes, well executed, but lacking in much that’s exquisite or particularly memorable. The whole thing is fine, just fine.

Probably as good as prog rock can be, with lots of rich textures and interesting vibes, and Anderson's memorable vocals, But then there is just enough of the worst of progr, too – frequent and jarring shifts in mood and tempo. Roundabout” a great opener followed by the absurd (not in a good way) “Cans and Brahms." Similarly, "Heart of the Sunrise" is compromised by arty effects and excess sophistication. "Long Distance Runaround" is among the best Yes ever did. One is surprised – and not a little embarrassed – to have any affection for this band. Really, one should loathe them, but there are hooks and melodies enough to overlook the prog guilt-by-association effect.

Catchy and memorable, this is an inspired piece of pop music combined with insightful social observation.

Not bad and certainly bouncy, but It’s possible the artists are having more fun than most listeners will. Does it sound dated? Indeed it does.

One is not fully educated on Afrobeat but straight-up musically, what's not to like? Driving beats, sweet rhythms and grooves, pure energy and passion – and such large portions. If you don't like a solo, just wait a beat and more are on the way. One is glad to have heard, plans to hear more.

So many strong songs how how Radiohead was the best rock band before coming the best band, period. Three classics  – "High and Dry," "Fake Plastic Trees" and "Black Star" – plus several other plus-plus tunes. There's a case to be made that this is their best album, but the case is obviously complicated by how many other great ones there are. Only legit beef is that first side is better than last.

Oversexed lyrically and overwrought vocally, if musically interesting in a basic, groovy kinda way. We’ve surely reached peak TB, and one thinks the cult can only – definitely should – get smaller.

It’s a little punky, a bit grindy and sort of rock revivalist, but for all those reasons, it’s lost a little bite and energy.

If you know, you know.

One gets a pre-James Brown vibe. One gets the feeling that this is pure music, deeply primal and truly rhythmic. One admires more than loves it.

Pretty cool, with likable vibes and some lovely moments that float free of pop music strictures, but a bit on the synthetic and over-determined side. Quite a few good songs but goes on a bit too long. The voice is distinct and she's got talent and ideas to burn, but one can't help thinking that the critical reputation is a touch higher than merited by the actual output. It's interesting, yes, but feels inorganically so, as if that was the only objective (there are worse sins). Bjork's got just maybe a bit more than her due down the years.

The future certainly doesn't sound like it used to sound. It's worked out to be more interesting than JMJ seemed to think it would be.

The essence of excess. Things weren't going to go any better later.

Some seriously atmospheric voodoo jive here, plenty dark and vaguely haunting. The call-response and groovy, hushed drumming on “Walk on Gilded Splinters” is the highlight. Vintage and authentic.

Big – maybe a bit too big at time, in the trying-too-hard sense – but the voice is a powerhouse and there's an early feel after just a few cuts of an unimpeachable (playing solid, production top-notch), instant classic. But listening onward, the vocals are overcooked, the drama forced. This is music for the masses, particularly that huge segment that cries at mediocre, made-for-TV* dramas. *Now made-for-streaming platforms

So sharp, so good. "Common People" and "Disco 2000" and "Something Changed" are droll and excellent in their own way. "Pencil Skirt" and "Underwear" are also delightful. One misses the golden age of such listenable fin de siecle snark.

Feels a little tired but then ends quite pleasantly hazy. A spiffed and modernized Stones sound, a kinder-gentler Oasis. All-around groovy and the mellower the better. The band seems to have been quite opportunistic in blending clubby-ravey tropes with an indie rock heart. Doesn’t seem like it should work as well as it does. Last few cuts best.

One hears plenty of the "old weird America" – consider the haunting sweetness of "I'm Counting on You" and the straight-up eerienees of "Blue Moon." The simplicity – even purity – of the playing is very attractive and one wonders if contemporary acts wouldn't benefit from adopting such a direct approach. Sure, it can seem corny, but it feels almost punk consideiring the schmaltzy, sequined endpoint to come. In other words, one gets why Elivs was Elvis. Points off for "Tutti Frutti."

Utterly antiseptic and more synthetic than sincere.. Will age about as well as cubic zirconia, though one suspects some stylish people in stylish capitals found this a stylish auditory accessory for at least a season. (Note: from the review linked on the official site: “Many will argue that 2-Step/UK Garage is a shallow, one-dimensional genre that will fade like overchewed gum. However, albums like “Sincere” go to prove that UK Garage is more than a fad.” Editors seemed to go with “fad” [one thinks “shallow and one-dimensional” to be more on point descriptively] as it’s been pulled from the official list and is now “ex.”)

Fine – perfectly fine – for what it is, but also basic and slight and just endlessly straightforward. Notes all fall into place, not one of them is risky. Plus, a "Good Golly Miss Molly" cover? I mean, why? It's okay not to be psychedelic or hippies (which they don't actually sound that different from); it's good to be competent and crisp, sure, but isn't it reasonable to expect some imagination, for Chrissakes.

Like a lot of his records, it starts out playful and upbeat, and then drifts into contemplativeness and melancholy, with a few tracks seeming to aim for outright inertia or dead air. The latter half is more effective. "Here He Comes" is one's fave and decent enough but as a whole this falls short, largely because it seems a tale of two sides, neither of which excel. The new-wave/indie rock feel, however Talking Heads-esque, is unconvincing (no singer Eno) and there was much better ambient to come. Thus, the effect is more experimental than effective. Still, it's Eno so 3 stars minimum.

One remembers wanting to be as funky as "Ma and Pa" and "Bonin' in the Boneyard" and "Ghetto Soundwave." Alas, one was not, not really, in one's heart of heart. The horns are a major plus here. While the overly thumpifying bass and fly, bouncy ska-punk mash-ups worked only briefly, and only on a few cuts and gave rise to much that was meh and much that was outright annoying. If there was room for only one superstar band from this genre and time, one wishes it were Fishbone and not the RHCPs who became increasingly insufferable over the years and ultimately, absolutely execrable.

A minor miracle of pop music, absolutely cool and substantive and rich. There are a few all-time cuts and not a single dog. "Light My Fire" is a top-10 essential rock-and-roll song, transcending time and genre, a perfect balance of hook and ambition and seriousness. It truly makes one listen. Amazingly, this has not been made worse by its popularity or hipster affectations or the presence of the utterly insufferable Manzarek or the fact that one over-loved it as a kid (by which one means took it too seriously). It's not even diminished by the fact that "20th-Century Fox" reminds one of one's ex-wife. The playing is great throughout. A true landmark and milestone which feels almost forgotten today.

Yes, it’s not a bunch of three-minute pop songs, but no it’s not classical music either (nor a classical rock fusion). In fact, it’s really not that weird or challenging at all. Which might be another way of saying times have caught up to King Crimson. “21st-century Schizoid Man” is accessible, not that arty and pretty dumb overall. “I Talk to the Wind” and “Epitaph” are a lot more interesting, but not so way out there besides their length. “Moonchild” seems more indulgent than innovative. Title cut is pretty pretentious but still worth hearing; the reaching for heaviness feels earnest, in other words. Just not that different for such a cult-y and allegedly obscure classic. The cover art feels like heavy metal, or maybe prog rock’s breakthrough gestures have just become the norm. Still, extra points for originality (even when it wasn't in the band's best interest) and influence (not all of which was propitious).

One is post-structuralist (perhaps even anti-structuralist) in other art forms, but in music generally and electronica in particular one finds formlessness much more bug than feature. Even allowing for objective to create an authentic soundscape, the spoken-word segments are more annoying than enlightening. The vibes are okay but, like many mediocre offerings in this segment, it all feels pointless, all premise and no resolution, as if something missing, which it is, of course, because this is a soundtrack. In fact, what this most sounds like is a resume for someone seeking production or soundtrack work, which it seems to have worked out to be.

Such lovely, lively lo-fi. GBV keeps excellent company, too; that the streamers go from last cut of the record to an excellent cut from Yo La Tengo (a most egregious exclusion from this esteemed index) tells you what you need to know. Their brand new record (fall 2022) suggests how close RP has stayed to the vision, though perhaps not always to the optimal effect.

Hooky but trite and overrated. “Enjoy the Silence” and “Policy of Truth” are not bad, but there's a silliness factor that one struggles to look past – just hard to take them seriously, despite (or because of) their becoming unaccountably huge. "Personal Jesus" is as annoying as an earworm can be.

A delight from top to bottom.

Decent and authentic-seeming, though perhaps too overt in its desire to be a rock record and also a bit all over the place. One much prefers “Are You Gonna Go My Way.”

Such richness of soul, groove and funkiness that so much of contemporary pop music is put to shame. And yes I suppose I mean "Western" or non-African anyway. This would be a genre worth learning more about.

Better than one remembers. The synths on "Jump" and "I'll Wait," which felt selly-outy then are nice leavening to the drive of the usual VH attack, while "Panama" and "Hot for Teacher" prevent it from becoming too full-on a kinder, gentler Van Halen. One finds this more than marginally less clownish than their other records. Mabye not fully mature but at least maturing. Given one's past loathing of this band (and their fans) one is surprised how much one enjoyed.

Such richness of soul, groove and funkiness that so much of contemporary pop music is put to shame.

Works well enough in the gym and, one supposes, at the club, though you'd really have to ask the kids. Besides the pure energy aspect, this, like most dance music, gets repetitive to the point of tedium awfully quickly and, thus, falls well short of one's minimal requirements for worthwhile listening. Perhaps there's craft one might notice if one knew more about the subtleties of the genre, but any sense of artistic merit is nowhere to be found and further study seems a non-productive exercise given that one's time is finite and one is, as the book title reminds us, going to die some day, which will certainly come to pass before one hears this record again (at least intentionally).

Rock operas and other mega-ambitious pop music projects often fail for reasons having to do with basic incoherence but Townsend knew what he was doing and built this to work narratively and musically. The silliness and creativity of The Who Sell Out is put to better and more focused effect. It's sort of mid-tempo throughout (as if to keep things under control) and some songs are too quickly done, but generally everything works on its own terms, which aren't necessarily transcendent, though there are moments – "Christmas" is the highlight, but "Overture" and "It's a Boy" and "Acid Queen" and "Tommy Can You Hear Me?" are all strong and almost moving. One admires the concept and, for the most part, the execution. It is quite strong which is impressive enough, considering just how much worse it could’ve – and probably should’ve – been.

A direct, gritty and highly mature record, B&C has held up extremely well, perhaps because it seems less overtly angry (more resigned) and the sarcasm more understated than the previous records. Still there's plenty of vinegar, this being EC. The no-produciont-is-the-best-production vibe is great, especially for this era and gives a very warm sound. On the downside it's also slightly less fun and tuneful. Best cuts are "Home is Where ...," the vintage "Hope You're Happy Now," "Blue Chair" and the rousing closer "Next Time Round." And one's always had a soft spot for the powerfully unenjoyable "I Want You." The depth and substance are powerful throughout and sustain interest across a full listen. A strong outing from top to bottom, with remarkable consistency across every cut, and quite underrated in the end, it must be said.

One likes a madrigal, especially when they're dressed up with sitars and glockenspiels.

Yet another Bowie record. The style suits Pop, Lou-Reed-esque inclinations, and one can hear lots of the goth and industrial to come, but these aren't necessarily benefits, and one wonders why this record is even attributed to Pop. And certainly this doesn't sound like a record to quit drugs by. "Nightclubbing" is a plus track and this version of "China Girl" was certainly to be excelled. But beyond a few other interesting textures, there's not that much here. Which leads one to believe this seems like a plot to get yet another Bowie record in this list when there are already far too many.

Wonderful record all the way around – unhurried, mellow, contemplative – exactly like a great road trip (surely just a coincidence). The guitar playing is excellent – who knew Joni had such axe chops but Jaco's name should be on the masthead, too. Speaking personally, this feels like peak Joni: "We got high on travel / And we got drunk on alcohol / And on love, the strongest poison and medicine of all." First two cuts are most engaging and the last a beautiful closer.

In its favor are the relatively clean production, the obvious politics, some broad hot licks and a band name/album title that is ultimate in truth in advertising. On the downside is the adolescent rage, the sameyness, and the length – my god, is this too long. Generic, white suburban rage is all fine and perfectly acceptable in its place but really should avoid going on too long – an analogy to outgrowing one’s youthful idealism. This record could’ve conserved energy and increased its impact by being 33-50% briefer. Beyond a few glimmers of impressive playing, it’s not really necessary to hear this before death unless one plans to die very young – and before developing more refined tastes.

A record of the highest quality, with not a bad or uninteresting song in the bunch. This is an easy inclusion in the list and it makes no sense that it's been dropped. The National merits at least three other records; they were the best rock band in the world for a good long run of years, offering a higher-class product -- smarter, more stylish, and thoughtful and interesting -- as people of taste know. Editors reveal themselves to fall quite short of that standard by overlooking the National.

Not one's thing to be honest, but this is a far sight better than quite a few other punk records here, thanks to the cool attitiude, hookiness and brevity of most of these cuts. One thinks it's okay to prefer REM's version of "Strange." That cut triggers the best run of the album – "Fragile" and "Mannequin" are especially good.

Just oozes authenticity. This is perhaps a bit less raggedly confessional or emotionally raw as some of her other records, which might cost a bit of power, but it also avoids the risk of sloppy sentimentality (which has been a bit of a occupational hazard for Lu) and gives a sense of control and mastery of every song. This is musicmaking at a very high level, well conceived, extremely well executed, and not overdone or showy. Every song works, and the first five are uniformly strong. The songwriting is terrific, the playing expertly professional. She's a true artist it's hard to believe there's only one of her records on this esteemed list.

Every time one listens to TJ&MC, one wonders why one doesn't do so more often. The balance of sweetness and sonic fuzz makes for a deceptive softness – yes, dark and soft and sweet is quite an apt description of this record. There's a likably consistent mood and tone across the whole thing that easily transcends any sense of sameness.

It's hard to believe how many hits this record spawned given her grating voice and the ultra-cheesy '80s synths. Good for her personal triumphs and all that, but this is more a souvenir of a time, here and there pleasant to hear (the melodies on "Time After Time" and "All Through the Night" and the ska-y guitars on "Witness") but not anything like timeless musical.

Old-school in the best way. There's a directness and seriousness that sets PE apart ... the black CNN indeed – see "NY Post" and "Arizona" which are the top cuts within a very cohesive and fully engaging whole.

Relentlessly clever and wholly original. Simple, to the point of basic beats and effects and very talky rapping seem like they should not work but somehow they do – largely because they suit the mock-heroic, quotidian epic of the rhymes (has a rap record ever so glamorized or got more from watching [or repairing a] television?). There's a humor and even a sweetness that not many other rappers could deliver.

Just awful.

Perhaps the best hard rock record ever made, with so many hooks, so many great melodies and powerful moments.

A delightful listen. The substance, craft and attention to detail make it hard to believe that it's a debut.

So much richness of soul in this, which can feel like a lost chapter of the '60s. The production feels a bit rough and muddy, it's music to take seriously, even as one is enjoying it pretty deeply.

Delightful listening. Though one can't speak to this record's place in any historical context relative to Brazilian music, it is undoubtedly fun and lovely and relaxing and caipirinha-friendly.

If one could only hear on a dusty Western road with hours to go on a long drive. A classic of Americana, with professional playing, crisp production and pretty great storytelling, Hemingwaysesque at times. A lot of hearbreak, blood and death for such straightforward singing.

Pure and haunting and true, no matter if musical hipsters are making the music. Sometimes the homage is better than the original.

It asks a bit of the listener, doesn't it? Certainly, it's not their best record, but deeply interesting throughout, if lacking in the killer or truly first-rank track. Opening of record sets the tone, for a band clearly in transition and very much in the mood to experiment.

One must not be in the target demographic. It's all very, well, melodramatic, though one can't say he wasn't warned. Only by grading on the curve would this rise to the level of mediocrity.

Likable and fun and different. Baroquely layered and danceable (if one's into that sort of thing).

Classic and full-on Stonesy - it's the non-hits that drive the quality, really – though it's not their absolute peak. One feels the need to shower after hearing "Can You Hear Me Knockin'".

Direct and templated bluesy psychedelic rock from the '60s of which there is much too much on this list. Nothing distinguished here – not the vocals and the jamming is replacement level for the era. Maybe was influential the, but today is merely not bad and sorta boring.

Stunning and exquisite. Not just the production and playing (obvs), but also the sense of languor and the extremely underrated lyrics (which people seem to both overthink and underaopreciate). The hits are top-notch – "Peg" is an all-time top-five groove, inclusive of any and all pop music genres and "Deacon Blues" is a Cheever story that just happened to get near the top of the charts. The opener, title cut and "Home at Last" are all extraordinary. Sure, it's dad rock and yacht rock -- for dads and yacht owners who possess taste and intelligence and a mature musical palate. People who don't find this interesting simply cannot themselves possibly be interesting. They certainly lack taste and probably fear jazz. One recalls loving it upon a first full listen as a teenager and the record only gets better with each passing decade; in other words, the more music one hears, the better Aja gets, a sure sign of quality.

It's often called "sweet" soul music for a reason, as this recording makes abundantly clear. What SC says from the stage is not to be fully trusted as the tempo differences between the fast ones and the slow ones are simply not that great. He's fully committed, but smoother and more genteel than say James Brown. There's an innocence and ebullience that's easy to like and infectious (cue the crowd noise); this is the stuff of which Saturday nights were made for a generation of Americans that largely got us started on this musical journey.

Thought this would just be early '90s silliness but the vibe is very chill and cool, indeed. The "Girlfriend" Prince cover is a winner and "Waterfalls" barely cracks the top 5 on this record. Has held up well, for the most part, though a few jokes try to hard and don't land, for which an R&B record nearly three decades old can be forgiven.

Classic from the first note, with epoch-defining opening and closing cuts, and multiple other gems along the way. Leaving aside notions of cultural appropriation, this is Stones at their most credibly bluesy; they believe in what they're doing and doing it with great effectiveness and, in some places, legit pathos. Excellent throughout.

Credibly rough and tough, but feels filled with directionless, no-longer-applicable rage and not much hookiness (not to mention tunefulness or melody or virtuosity) to keep us interested. One posits that "Rock Star" would've been a better song had she leaned into the "Olympia-uh-uh-uh" motif rather than regurgitating another screamalong of which the album already has a preponderance. The next record was better. More fodder for the theory that that history will not be kind to the '90s as a musical decade.

There's an ebullience and willingess to throw everything behind the idea of funking freely that's a mark of genius. And plenty of quality matieral here – title cut, of course, but also “Dorothy Parker” and “Starfish and Coffee” and “If I Was Your Girlfriend” (which shows how less is more in terms of layering instruments and sounds) “Never Take the Place of You” (with pure ‘80s synth feel) and “Adore.” But there's also general sense of excess and indulgence that suggest the vision might've been better served with a bit of trimming and some general restraint (not the Purple One's groove, one knows). There are blind spots, too, an overrliance on those whooping little screams, for instance, on maximalist arrangements and on drum machines that have not helped up too durably and threaten the sub-top-shelf tunes, of which there's a surfeit here. The planned triple album would not have much helped. Put another way: there's a lot to like here mainly because there's a lot.

Fine and sweet and on doubting the lullaby appeals of title cut and "F&R" but oh so soft, like to the point of deteriorating. Bing Crosby would have been a more convincing bluesman. "Suite for 20 G" feels similarly out of place, with the add-on horns and electricity. Fine balladeer though he was, JT definiitively did not rock and could not wail and sounded silly trying to.

Generally likable but not very memorable, and nothing like life-changing. Fun but normie, and a bit tiresome, too, as it's not nearly as clever as it thinks it is. In the end, not much better than just okay.

Not terrible but not as shocking or operatic as it clearly aimed to be. Triple points off for inspiring the likes of Reznor, Manson, etc. Today sounds like generic, replacement-level '70s arena rock, and pretty meh besides, which must seem the ultimate in faint condemnation to the involved perpetrators here. Maybe the guillotines and electric chairs and other stage theatrics were necessary to achieve full impact but then that completely undercuts the case for the lasting importance of the music. One doesn't think that nobody caring anymore can be put down to everyone's just being jaded nowadays. The editors' comparisons to Waters and Townsend are as perhaps the most ludicrous aspect of this listening experience, and certainly as shocking (and stupid) as Cooper having himself drawn and quartered onstage.

This is better than it seems it should be. First two cuts are both top-class, and hold up well. "Second-Hand Woman" is an embarrassment really, as much for the troglodytic content as for the hideously '80s hook and the thin disco beat. "Slowdown Sundown" and "Spanish Dancer" right the ship, but only briefly, until the Jan-Hammerian "Night Train," another time-traveler that feels ready to explode when contacting 21st-century air. Considering how one's never liked Winwood's way-back-in-the-throat voice, one's surprised to find this of substantial quality ... the pluses meaningfully outweigh the Ultimate '80s embarrassments.

The first major advancement of one of the pre-eminent (but most sneakily) innovative bands around. Things would get even better but the excellence on display here is unquestionable.

Tedious and awful. Ice Cube mixes things up a bit but this is nu metal at its most noxious.

A fun and funky blend of styles.

One-hit wonder for a reason and he should be grateful about that. Manifests every cliche of singer-songwriters and not in a good way.

Too clever to sell, wasn't it? But still a delight to hear and engage with. There's maybe a cottagecore or cozy mystery effect here that belies the more modest (if more biting) ambitions relative to their peers in this era. The Kinks are among one's personal national musical monuments / treasures. "Waterloo Sunset" is priceless.

As good as chill can be and ever got.

Sharp and lean but seems maybe slightly too impressed with itself. One finds their street claims about pistol-whipping, etc. to be non-credible, really, and the Chinese restaurant skit isn't exactly the height of with social consciousness now is it? There are sweet moments – "Killing Me Softly," "No Woman, No Cry" and "Fu-gee-La" but overall it's never quite one's bag, but one doesn't begrudge the massive commercial success; far less records have sold more.

Utterly charming and winsome, and novelistically rich in emotional and intellectual content. It's easy to mock this band as the height of Millennial tweeness or cottagecore, but one finds it hard not to like and admire the work, given its orginality and the band's ability to do so well what they so clearly set out to do.

Has any record more frequently featured the expression "Do it" more often or had a singer use it more with more conviction, despite the repetition? Likely not though the necessary research to confirm won't be done for reasons of time consumption. Echo are a better band than one remembers, and there are many winning moments on this and a credible arty vibe and solid vocals and guitar work throughout. Not exactly a high-water mark of or post-punk or early alt or New Wave or whatever it's supposed to be called by this time. One doesn't think it sounds as dark today as it likely did then (and not early Cure dark anyway, which was a lot dronier); no these cats were hookier and quirkier, too, which adds up to lighter. Maybe doesn't quite deserve a 4 (and they don't really deserve three records in this list though one's enjoyed listening to the others [as one does in navigating the esteemed compendium] but it gets one anyway because of it's of one's vintage (slightly ahead, actually).

Strong contender for best album of all time. It is endlessly engaging, interesting and entertaining – and wildly so on all fronts. The full-on experimentation, the boldness and willingness to try on a lark, the offbeat McCartney and Lennon never better, each contributing both masterpieces and several priceless (and underrated) gems. George and Ringo at their best, too. If a mishmash, then a marvelous one. More like a transcendent embarrassment of riches.

What a talent. “Come Pick Me Up” and “To Be Young" are utter classics. My objectivity is tainted by a recent solo show one attended where he was utterly tedious and requested bars closed so he had dead quiet. One supports his sobriety and considers oneself a major fan but that's too much to ask. The world's top string quartets don't do that.

Dark, brooding and, at times, haunted. One loves the weighty-seeming introspection, like a cold grey day on the beach. There's a resigned acceptance to the tone that sounds like it was freeing in some songs and quite edgy on others. This sense of culmination, and of the need to move on, paid off very nicely for the listener. 4

One recalls feeling frustrated with E&tB in ral time that they only rarely went all in and many songs sounded half-baked or only half-committed to. Today, that seems very much a design feature, rather than an executional shortcoming. This record shows a band stretching its wings a bit and taking its time – either because they had the confidence to do so or because it was who they were, fundamentally, as a band. The use of strings in particular and the layered instrumentation are a plus. The "hits" hold up well, as does the record as a whole. The lesser known cuts offer value, too (see the twinned guitar solos on the mid-tempo "My Kingdom," a real highlight of the record and which really shoulda been longer). The closer is lovely and languid. It must be recognized that they've held up better than many of their peers, though this could be generational bias talking.

Master player at the top of his craft and delivers a great show, too.

Bowie at his best. The showmanship and storytelling silliness is de-emphasized, with a more sincere-seeming and serious-sounding commitment to actual, you know, musicmaking. The playing and tone are great throughout and there are no major lulls or tracks that are outright/obvious fillers.

How can a "fringe-rock artifact" be one of only a finite number of records one must hear? This is tedious noise.

Truly one of a kind, an unmistakable voice with a distinct style. One has always preferred her with smaller ensembles, but one should take the Lady in any way one can.

About as intriguing musically today as late '80s Balkan politics are relevant today. Different, yes, and perhaps worth an occasional consideration in a historical sense. But suitable for this esteemed list? No. This is a musical oddity, a satirical (perhaps bitting – it's hard for one to say when one doesn't speak the languages here) commentary on a political moment in time. It's also just straight-up odd, especialy the vocals and the rather haphazard contrasting of styles, metal chugging with minimalist keyboards and the stagey and bizarre-o vocals.

One digs an MC with style and originality. Three or four good to great tracks. The more melodic flows are best –- see "Selfish," see "Flowers."

This grows on one's slightly with more lisetning, but can't help resist thinking of how many similar acts were better/preferable – Nick Drake, obvs, but also Fairport, and, more recently, Belle & Sebastian or Richard Hawley. And TB isn't even in the same conversation as Dylan and Leonard Cohen. Even allowing for the "cult favorite" grading curve, one thinks TB is a bit overrated (largely due to the attractions of the tortured artistt/sensitive poet factor). Oddly formal vocal style, as if overtrained as a youth. And some of the songs reach excessively for a troubadour-madrigal vibe that sounds a bit silly today, however timely/on-point it might have seemed in the '60s. For instance, the title cut wants to be cinematic and comes across as an overdone show tune. The inclusion of both strings and winds and the song-cycle structure surely show the nefarious influence of prog rock on the folkies. "Pleasant Street" is easily the best song, followed by "Morning Glory."

The anger, which is the heart of the matter, feels considerably less than authentic, more privileged and performative, and nothing like righteous. Does that make her a Karen? One's always struggled to like Fiona Apple for her showiness and her silly expressions of aggression. She's just updated a 30-year-old record with some new sounds and song structures and settings – some pretty inventive – but considerable sameyness (especially of tone).

Sultry and soulful and just a touch raw, to keep it real, and the real deal this very much is: “My Coloring Book,” “Anyone Who Had a Heart,” and “Twenty-Four Hours to Tulsa" and “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” are all excellent.

Still can't tell if it's the punkiest sort of pop or poppiest sort of punk. Either way it works and it's not hard to remember how (or why) this was all the cool kids' favorite band back in the day.

Sleek, shiny and super catchy. Precision engineered, indie rock of the early aughts. Still sounds fresh but almost cliched at time, given how redolent it is of its time. "Take Me Out" is world-class hooky and "Come on Home" makes a nice (not-quite) bookend.

Unbearably cheesy, timelessly cheesy.

Terrific and understated. Groovy and thoughtful and has proven quite durable in that it still sounds great.

From High Lonesome to High Dysfunction to High Crimes and Misdemenanors. Friends and Enemies in Low Places all across Weird Old America, including all the best trailer parks, and different, non-best housing tracts. One could listen to this all day.

The dynamic is less loud-quiet than fierce-tender and it helps to have a world-class frontman who goes all in on effort and who seems to have born with a pure rocker’s attitude (e.g., not faking/posing at all). “Mountain Song,” “Summertime Rolls,” “Standing In the Shower” and the theme song are all classic, and the balance all add value in their unique ways. One always liked the hot-burning energy and the fact they haven’t sullied their legacy with endless reunion and multiple final-final-farewell tours. Still smokin’ hot after all these years.

One can kinda see how this was slated to be a big hit, but that's largely a function of it being pretty middle of the road, even a bit dull. The playing is pretty sharp throughout. One doesn't hear the "genius" the editors hear, but rather above average psychedelia that's nice to know that's at no risk of being worn out from overplaying. Demerits for dumb band name.

Only significant for what they would do later. This is too much of its time to have much appeal today, though. "Interstellar Overdrive" might be historically interesting but it's not a cut many, or any, PF fans think of first (or even tenth or 20th) when they consider what to play. Meddle, Animals and The Final Cut would have been far better choices on the merits.

A long-time fave, with so many highlights and memorable cuts, but an excess of filler (the spoken word bits do wear a bit). Maybe not aging quite as well as one expected.

Out there, just way out there. Otherworldly funky and soulful and still unprecedented and unrivaled in so many ways, not least in the sheer joyousness that is clearly involved in the making of this record.

Vintage quality through and through.

Likably slapdash and rootsy-groovy, and sorta proto-Kinks. Album gets sillier and less interesting as it goes along, feels like an overreaching, like they wanted to get into something like high concept, when the playing is quite sufficient on its own. Spoken word stuff is total waste of time and disrupts the flow.

Extraordinary chill for such harsh subject matter. Great all the way around, maybe Marv's best, which is saying a lot.

Straight-up awful, even accounting for the irresistible "Photograph." Records like give rock a bad name. Embarrassing.

Nothing wrong or offensive with this, but doesn't exactly jump through the speakers or headphones. It is a tick too sleepy even by the standards of dream pop, of which one much prefers the lilting, rather than the droning, variet, as manifested here. In fact, this drones to the point of being inert. One would like to compare this effort to their other records, but save for the odd outlier, they are quite difficult to tell part. Something like eight times now have they been have been on the same drone-rinse-repeat cycle. If Beach House are this generation's Cocteau Twins or My Bloody Valentine, one feels mainly pity for this generation.

Just not all that. Neither as clever-good as Pulp nor as epic-good as Oasis. And don't even go \"modern-day Kinks,\" as that's just an insult to the Davies (and an illustration of dodgy taste, generally). There are moments of undeniable quality here but not so many as to justify Blur being so impressed with themselves.

One is so easily transported back to the shag-carpeted basement rec rooms and bedrooms of one's youth, isn't one? The musicmaking craft here is of the highest order and a few of the songs are nearly unparalleled in being just so goddamn fun to hear. Such grooves as these make it hard to imagine a better or purer pop record ever being made.

Holds up well, especially the relatively complex rhythms and the understated guitar work, which one sometimes must strain to hear over the synths, which never reach "ultimate '80s" degrees off cheesiness but are maybe more prominent than might be considered absolutely ideal. Kerr is a strong vocalist, believable, concerned sounding, a less showy Bono. One wishes there was an auto production filter to hear what this record, made with the studio tech available today or in the aughts, might have sounded. One suspects they were great live and wishes one had seen them so. And hey editors, they ruled more in the early and mid-80s, not late.

Relatively interesting, with a few first-rate cuts, but not massively engaging or super intriguing.

Still excellent, but perhaps seems a little overlong today and a tad rando in the number of musical shifts. It does not quite grab one as forcefully as it seemed to do back in the day. Still so much to like with a half-dozen gems, easily. And some forgettable DIY (and emo) probably saw this as a jumping-off point, one doesn't think he can be held responsible for that. After all, this is much more sophisticated.