Pioneers of mixing hip-hop with house and jazz (in fact they were the first to do the former), Jungle Brothers pack their second album full of irresistible beats and singsong flow. Some of the rhymes are wonderfully corny in that special late 80s way.

A perfectly crafted album: dark without succumbing to utter despair, synths entwined with full-bodied drums, a vision maintained from first note to last. Depeche Mode enter the 90s at the top of their game and ready to conquer.

Younger listeners may not recall a time when Kanye West was a major tastemaker in hip hop, but this album made waves when it was released. And it wasn’t just the incredible beats-from wrestling with religion in Jesus Walks to the sardonic School Spirit, Kanye speaks frankly and cleverly about black culture and the absurdities of fame; and in doing so, changed the direction of hip hop.

Raw and full of nerve. PJ Harvey has the kind of voice to send prickles up the neck at its full power, defiant and aching.

A little baffled by the glowing praise Dear Science received from press outlets at the time. It’s perfectly acceptable late-00s indie rock, nothing more and nothing less.

I can’t think of another live album which so viscerally places in you in the setting of a concert. Perhaps more than any other American singer, Johnny Cash embodies the struggles of this country-and the ideals we aspire to.

An exploration of woman, both inside and out-from romantic relationships to psychoanalysis, Joni Mitchell applies both a light touch of humor and surprising maturity. The jazz-kissed arrangements help some of the heavier lyrics go down smooth.

The greatest band of all time bids farewell with a stunning, self-assured masterpiece. Sometimes tender, sometimes bombastic, a thrill right to the end.

An exquisitely curated collection of standards, back with a big band and anchored by Ray Charles’ sprightly piano and emotion-soaked voice. Melancholy, but in a way that doesn’t leave the listener feeling drained.

The jangly guitars and lush harmonies of the 60s meet the slick production of the 80s, and the marriage is blissful. To produce a debut this confident and fully-formed is rare indeed, but the Stones Roses manage with flourishes of true brilliance.

Pitch-black, gratingly harsh, and uncompromising. Trent Reznor exorcises his demons through a set of songs that demonstrate both his musical virtuosity and his desire to claw his way back from the pit of despair.

A bit too sprawling and uneven to be counted as truly great, but credit where credit is due-the Beatles fearlessly throw everything at the wall to see what sticks, and most of it does. Even ideas that aren’t fully formed contain intriguing lyrics and melodies, showing just how far they’ve come as a band.

The tail end of the grunge movement flirts with folk and blues and produces something pleasantly listenable, though not particularly groundbreaking. Screaming Trees’ final album points to the direction rock music would take going into the new millennium.

Pioneers of mixing hip-hop with house and jazz (in fact they were the first to do the former), Jungle Brothers pack their second album full of irresistible beats and singsong flow. Some of the rhymes are wonderfully corny in that special late 80s way.

The album that redefined what was possible with a guitar. Hendrix is of course transcendent, but attention should also be paid to Noel Redding (bass) and Mitch Mitchell (drums)-their tight, locked-in groove gives a sturdy frame to the six-string fireworks.

A perfectly crafted album: dark without succumbing to utter despair, synths entwined with full-bodied drums, a vision maintained from first note to last. Depeche Mode enter the 90s at the top of their game and ready to conquer.

T-Boz, Left Eye and Chili demonstrate why they’re arguably the greatest girl group of the 90s. Covering subjects from unapologetic sexuality to bewilderment at the quickly-changing world of the new decade, it’s erotic, funny and brash all at once.

“Cacophonous” is probably the best word to describe this album. Industrial music at its purest, combining disparate elements of metal, electronic music, even white noise-you’ll know pretty quickly whether it’s your thing or not.

Having laid Ziggy Stardust to rest, David Bowie turns his exacting gaze to the world of blue-eyed soul. Full of swagger, biting lyrics, and a loose jam-like atmosphere.

On their second album, ELP throw off the training wheels and show what they’re really capable of. The multi-part suite Tarkus is astonishing in its complexity, and the venomous Bitches Crystal crashes through the speakers like a speeding train.

One of the flagship albums of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal. Judas Priest know their strengths and they deliver with screaming guitars and Rob Halford’s inimitable snarl.

Overlong, incredibly self-indulgent, and full of pedestrian rhymes and plodding melodies. There’s nothing here that groups like Oasis and Blur weren’t already doing-and doing better.

A fabulously smooth jazz album, perfect for enjoying a warm cup of tea on a rainy day. The main attraction here is Sade Adu’s gorgeous voice; it slinks around a lyric like a silk scarf, finding the nuances with the greatest of ease.

Isaac Hayes takes the listener on a…well, soulful sonic journey through love and heartbreak. Finally granted creative control after a stunted debut, Hayes belts out jam session-ish versions of classics over a sweeping orchestra and his own pounding Hammond organ.

Knowing the context of this record-that Robert Wyatt was paralyzed by a fall from a high window just before recording, and music was basically all he had to live for-certainly helps increase one’s admiration for it. Its highly experimental and atonal nature, though, isn’t for everyone, despite the number of talented musicians on hand.

A bridge between the R&B and pop of Beatlemania and the cornucopia of genres that would characterize their later years. The Beatles incorporate folk, country and a bit of Indian raga for a jewel of an album.

Lenny Kravitz introduces himself to the world with an impressive and pure distillation of his talents-he performs all the vocals and instruments himself (then-wife Lisa Bonet co-wrote two of the songs). Several pieces arguably meander a bit too much, but there are some decent lyrical ideas presented therein.

Younger listeners may not recall a time when Kanye West was a major tastemaker in hip hop, but this album made waves when it was released. And it wasn’t just the incredible beats-from wrestling with religion in Jesus Walks to the sardonic School Spirit, Kanye speaks frankly and cleverly about black culture and the absurdities of fame; and in doing so, changed the direction of hip hop.

Raw and full of nerve. PJ Harvey has the kind of voice to send prickles up the neck at its full power, defiant and aching.

One of the building blocks of electronic music as it exists today. Through repetition and careful choice of effects and arrangements, there arises an interesting texture that really does replicate traveling through Europe via train.

The masters of funk at the top of their game, completely in control of every note. Both the originals and the covers sparkle with vibrancy.

At the tail end of Britpop comes a kinder, gentler Oasis. Nothing truly exceptional, but the sea shanty influences make for an interesting listen.

No other artist sounds quite like Frank Zappa. Combining jazz and psychedelic rock with how own bizarre sense of humor, Zappos’s first album after The Mothers of Invention is a fascinating window on his musical psyche.

Magnificently sung, regally arranged, bursting with joy and power. All hail the First Lady of Soul.

Generic, overly slick, and shiny with substance. Not a bit of it feels sincere.

Bohemian Rhapsody has more than earned its place in the pantheon of all-time great songs, but A Night at the Opera offers a bevy of auditory delights, from the Dixieland jazz of Good Company (all replicated with Brian May’s guitar) to the Motown pastiche of You’re My Best Friend to the intricate harmonies and apocalyptic imagery of The Prophet’s Song. With their backs against the wall, Queen produce an album that isn’t quite their finest work, but gives an excellent overview of their skill and their fearlessness to experiment with genre and technique.

The most proudly English of all the British Invasion groups delivers a treatise on not only the UK’s vanishing rural way of life, but nostalgia and how it can both enhance and spoil one’s perspective. Ray Davies really comes into his own as a songwriter here.

Utterly bananas and completely unashamed of its radical experimentation. It’s perhaps a bit too long, as many double albums are, but as far as first statements go it’s conclusive one.

The production on Aja is incredible: the sound is crisp and resonant, with each voice and instrument given warmth and depth. The songs themselves are a little more of a mixed bag: some may find the arrangements too noodly or the lyrics too obtuse, but the musicianship is generally impressive.

Not as purely funky as their later releases, but it doesn’t matter. This is a raw, rip-roaring musical merry-go-round with jaw-dropping guitar work.

One of the essential grunge albums, a harrowing portrait of the destruction and misery wrought by drug addiction. Sludgy guitars and yowling, pain-filled vocals combine to make this a memorable listening experience, if not an especially pleasant one.

One of the shortest albums on the list (maybe THE shortest?) at 15 minutes and 25 seconds, Group Sex goes by so quickly that one hardly has enough time to form an opinion on it. Lean, brutal, and full of the anger and uncertainty that many young people felt at the start of the 80s.

Radiohead expands their horizons, to fantastic results. Moody, almost baroque, with multilayered arrangements and plaintive vocal work by Thom Yorke.

Breakbeat with a side of industrial derangement. Arguably a little too long, but it starts and ends strong.

One of the 20th century’s most iconic voices takes on big band standards, with arranger Nelson Riddle (who you may know for his theme to Batman ‘66) giving them a jazzier touch. These songs may run on into each other, but Sinatra is incredibly charming and sings them almost with a wry wink.

The concept of soundtracking a nonexistent film is an interesting one, though it’s difficult to fathom what kind of film this might be. Some wild experimentation here, incorporating jazz, funk, and spoken word-it doesn’t always work, but when it does it’s an ear worm.

There are many singer-songwriters who fancy themselves poets, but none have quite the deft touch of Leonard Cohen. He’s not the most talented vocalists, but it doesn’t matter: he weaves a web of words that enchant every time.

For as modern as the arrangements of this album are, Kate Bush’s voice retains its timeless otherworldly quality. She has a clear vision of what she wants this record to be, an intimidate understanding of what women endure.

Apart from the iconic, Oscar-winning theme, these songs are probably best appreciated if you’ve seen the film beforehand. No doubt the musicians are sharp and the arrangements are smooth, but without context they just sort of drag.

A little baffled by the glowing praise Dear Science received from press outlets at the time. It’s perfectly acceptable late-00s indie rock, nothing more and nothing less.

Breezy, loud and fun, just what a Madchester record is supposed to be. A sign of what was to come in the decade ahead.

So much more than country, Golden Hour combines electronic, folk and pop influences. It provides the perfect backdrop for Musgraves’ exploration of loss, love and maturation.

An essential example of an overlooked gem that people are finally coming around to. Suffused with a gorgeous melancholy and intricate harmonies.

After his mental breakdown, Brian Wilson begins to experiment with more complex arrangements and abstract topics. An important stepping stone on the way to Pet Sounds.

When an album starts with a musical retelling of Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal, an eclectic listen is at hand. Not every song is a winner, but Walker was a gifted writer who knew his way around a turn of phrase.

Common has one of the smoothest flows in the game, and he puts it to incredible use on this album. But it’s not just about his lyrical dexterity-he speaks with emotion and frankness about his experience as an artist, a father, and a black man in America.

A hair away from careening off the rails, thumbing their nose at the establishment, Sweden’s loudest band brings back punk sensibility for the 21st century. Howlin’ Pelle lives up to his name.

George Jones is often cited as perhaps the greatest country singer of all time-though you may not know it if your first exposure to him is this album. His performance is solid, but apart from the first and last songs, none of these tracks have the staying power of classics like “He Stopped Loving Her Today.”

From first note to last, this album is indeed a tapestry of exquisitely crafted songs that flow along like the tide. Carole King had already proved her bonafides as a songwriter with ex Gerry Goffin, but here she demonstrates that she’s more than capable on her own.

Jazz in its purest form. A group of immensely talented musicians letting the music take them where it will.

Look, I’m far from a fan of Morrissey (both his voice and his personality), but even I must admit the Smiths are a good band. The instrumentation is tight and the lyrics have a poetic quality.

Out of all the progressive rock giants of the 70s, Rush had perhaps the smoothest and most creatively fruitful transition to the 80s. They may have a slightly more polished sound on Moving Pictures, but they still retain their musical proficiency and intricate lyrics exploring themes like alienation and technology.

Competently played, but the songs tend to blend together. The singer should stop trying to reach notes beyond his range.

The psychedelic notes sprinkled throughout do add some color, but often the songs seem to peter out long before they actually end. A good effort.

What sounds fairly tame in 2022 was a revelation in 1957. With his exuberant whoops, pounding piano, and playful innuendo, Little Richard helped build rock n roll into a cultural touchstone.

Profoundly unlike anything else at the time, and for that Suicide should be commended. But the droning melodies and disturbing lyrics definitely make this a niche album.

The Specials have a great talent for combining bouncy rhythms with sarcastic, politically-tinged lyrics. Perhaps the best 2 Tone group.

Dreamy Britpop that owes more than a little to David Bowie. Maybe a little aimless in the middle, but finishes strong.

Born to Die should be on the list instead. Lightweight and dreary.

Though they may not play fast and loose with song structures like the Grateful Dead or Phish, Pavement has the soul of a jam band. One of those rare albums where the back half is livelier than the front.

ZZ Top does Texas proud with this collection of crunchy, riff-filled Southern rock. No song overstays it welcome-the trio have an excellent handle on tight arrangements.

Musings on suburbia with her usual lyrical dexterity and folksy touch. There’s some excellent layering of vocals here too.

Spare and haunting in a way that leaves the listener oddly fulfilled. Just gorgeous.

With a name like Primal Scream, one might expect music that’s hard, nasty and brutish. Instead this album is melodic and flows easily from one song to the next, incorporating elements of dub and ambient music.

Not only a spectacular jazz album, A Love Supreme is a beautiful expression of the relationship between man and God. Coltrane’s saxophone wails and sobs like a sinner yearning to be cleansed.

Sheryl Crow has a fine voice, but the lyrics and song structure here don’t always match it. The popular singles are the definite highlights.

Slams one in the face with all the power and subtlety of a wrecking ball. The speed of the guitar work is impressive.

If the back half of the album wasn’t overlong, and a certain slur wasn’t part of Money for Nothing, this album would probably have earned itself a 5. But the parts of Brothers in Arms that work are phenomenal-Mark Knopfler is a perennially underrated guitarist.

The most notable thing about With the Beatles is probably its iconic cover, but there are plenty of aural delights within. John and Paul continue to polish their impeccable songwriting chops, George contributes his first number (even if he later admitted he didn’t care for it), and even Ringo gets to experiment with various percussive instruments.

The first rap album to top the Billboard charts, Licensed to Ill is a supremely goofy tongue twister of a time. Though the Beastie Boys later apologized for the casual misogyny in some of the lyrics, it barely impedes the flow, and the selection and arrangement of samples is masterful,

The second of five albums from Stevie Wonder’s classic period, and an extraordinary piece work. These songs are incredibly polished and mature for someone so young.

Kendrick Lamar weaves an intricate tapestry of rhymes and beats to explore being black in 21st century America. He is both knowledgeable and eloquent, joined by guests ranging from George Clinton to Snoop Dogg.

The title track is an all-time classic, but the rest of the songs-mostly covers with a few originals-don’t live up to the hype. Guitarist Steve Cropper is a gem throughout, though.

An unwieldy two-part volume of postpunk. Snotty but not unbearable.

It’s fine- Brad Delp’s voice is pleasant enough and the band plays competently, with a little prog flair. But there’s really nothing in these songs that dozens of other bands weren’t doing at the time, and it leaves the memory as soon as it’s done.

It’s been 30 years and this album feels more relevant than ever. Hard-edged without being discordant, full of righteous fury.

With a voice clear as a bell, Emmylou Harris brings her own gentle touch to a well-curated group of covers and originals. Those who normally disdain other artists attempting Beatles tunes may be pleasantly surprised at her melancholic rendition of “For No One.”

The skits may not have been wholly necessary, but this is still an excellent album. A worthy addition to the gangsta rap canon.

Punk takes on a more melodic bent here, but doesn’t sacrifice its spirit of rebellion in the process. When one of your songs ends up having its lyrics featured on John Peel’s grave, you must be doing something right.

Almost timeless in how ethereal it is. A great album just to vibe to.

A brilliantly constructed album from an artist taken far too soon. Savane reminds its listeners that the roots of most popular music really do originate in Africa.

The Summer of Love, compressed into one album. Grace Slick’s powerful wail soars over a moody bed of guitars, lending an uneasy thrilling current to the music.

The aural equivalent of spinning out on heroin. Dark and discordant, perhaps too much for its own good.

One of the shining lights of the late 70s punk and new wave scene at CBGB, Talking Heads are scrappy, jittery, and unlike most anything America had heard before. The darkness of the lyrics constraint beautifully with the chirping guitar.

Power pop at its very finest. Costello has both wit and wisdom in spades for someone so young.

Definitely Maybe wasn’t the first Britpop album, but Oasis’s debut is arguably what made the genre into a phenomenon. Rough around the edges, but has a delightful sneer.

The title track is a loopy acid rock classic, stretching out for 17 delirious minutes. Sadly, nothing else on the album even remotely measures up-Iron Butterfly weren’t bringing much to the table that other musicians weren’t already doing.

A trip-hop odyssey that at points loses sight of its destination. Alison Goldfrapp sings some lovely guest vocals though.

New Order says goodbye to the last remnants of Joy Division and fully embraces a more danceable style. Spacey, dreamy, vaguely threatening.

The way these samples are layered is just astonishing. The Avalanches really paved the way for so many electronic musicians after them.

Even when listening for the first time, Boards of Canada feels gauzy and nostalgic, as if half-remembered from childhood. Every song is a gem and this album is their masterpiece.

There’s no denying that Randy Newman is a gifted songwriter and arranger, but his voice might be the hurdle some listeners can’t overcome. For those who can, Sail Away walks a fine line between whimsical and just a bit too silly, and most of the time it maintains that balance well.

Sometimes albums one has always been told are “great” really do live up to the hype. Pink Floyd fire on all cylinders here, delivering a cosmic suite of songs-essential listening regardless of whether it’s synced to The Wizard of Oz.

Janet’s masterpiece (and perhaps Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis’s as well), a sprawling exploration of societal problems set to a mix of new jack swing, industrial rock and hip hop. Only the over abundance of interludes and a slightly dragging back half keep Rhythm Nation from 5 stars.

A heady dose of New Orleans, a mix of R&B and psychedelia. Probably even better when under the influence.

Containing THE riff for aspiring guitarists to learn certainly counts in Machine Head’s favor. But Deep Purple pack this album full of tasty runs and pummeling beats.

Paul Weller moves from the mod revival of The Jam to something altogether different. A pleasant mix of jazz and funk-equally at home in a Starbucks or while driving on a rainy evening.

The B-52’s prove it’s possible to be quirky without annoying everyone. Right from the beginning, they establish their unique identity by flirting with punk, new wave and surf rock.

Jazmine Sullivan has a wonderful voice and chooses her collaborators well. But this is an EP where the idea of it(women taking control of their sexuality and grappling with their places in a man’s world) is more intriguing than the execution.

“Mama Africa” brings the songs of her homeland South Africa to the rest of the world. This whimsical collection of songs showcases her Everly and beautiful clear voice.

Here we have a rarity in Britpop-a group mostly comprised of women! Elastica has plenty of punch and vivacity, but the songs sound a bit too similar to other groups of that time.

Who knew a folk album could go this hard? Yusuf Islam’s simple melodies belie the difficult questions the lyrics ask, particularly on the masterpiece “Father and Son.”

There is before Dylan, and after Dylan: not many artists can claim to have caused a schism in popular music like that. Whatever one feels about his voice, his passion and lyricism cannot be denied.

A nice variety of styles on display here, surprisingly funky in places-and soaring guest vocals by Sinéad O’Connor just after she hit it big. It’s just a pity that some of the best ideas are dragged out until they lose steam.

The second of Taylor Swift’s surprise pandemic albums, Evermore takes a gentler direction than its predecessor Folklore, instrumentally if not lyrically. The steady parade of acoustic pop might lull some listeners to sleep, but there’s quite a bit to sink one’s teeth into here.

The Beau Brummels start dealing in the psychedelic and abstract, with generally favorable results. It’s all a bit samey toward the end, but tunes like “Magic Hollow” are playful and spirited.

The ideal vibes for a peaceful, blue-sky Friday. Shuggie Otis manages to keep things moving steadily while still fostering a gentle chill.

Considering how close the Cure came to imploding during the recording of Pornography, it’s a wonder they managed to produce anything listenable, let alone an album so expansive and gorgeously melancholic. Special mention goes to Lol Tolhurst’s propulsive drumming.

Sounds like it was recorded in a bedroom by a bunch of friends (though it’s actually studio-produced), which gives it a charming lo-fi air. However, several songs don’t stick around long enough to impact the listener in any meaningful way.

Straight from East Bay, California, a ragtag trio of snotty stoners records one of the pillars of pop punk. It’s full of adolescent angst and jagged guitars, and it captures its era perfectly.

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Axis: Bold as Love keeps what worked about Are You Experienced? and somehow is even denser, even more psychedelic, even more beautiful.

One of country’s most iconic outlaws teams up with Billy Joe Shaver for songs celebrating wine, women, and the winding road. Though still in his 30s at the time, Jennings has a voice soaked in age and experience.

Underworld falls prey to a common failing of 90s British electronic albums: good ideas are present, but stretched beyond the point where they seem fresh or interesting. Seek out the rerelease which features Born Slippy. NUXX, their signature song.

The Chili Peppers were busting heads in 1991, but in the decades since so many bands have imitated their sound that it’s lost some of its magic. That being said, Flea and John Frusciante are fantastic players-just don’t pay much attention to the often puerile lyrics.

Outside of post-punk devotees, this album probably appeals to a very limited audience. Harsh and formless.

Elvis returns after three years in the Army-and consequently has lost much of the edge that sent a shockwave through American culture. His voice and band sound just fine, but the songs here offer little in the way of excitement.

Riddles wrapped in enigmas, all presented in a melodic package that helped bring guitar-oriented music to the forefront again. The beginning of an illustrious run.

The title track has become such a totem of American culture, its impact and longevity almost improbable (hell, for almost 50 years it was the longest song to ever hit #1 on the Billboard chart), that it isn’t a surprise the rest of the album trembles in its shadow. But that isn’t to say the other songs aren’t worth listening to: “Vincent” in particular is a delicately crafted ode to Van Gogh that is remarkably sensitive about the often-taboo topic of mental illness.

The Beastie Boys at last become Beastie Men. The subject matter is more mature, but the wordplay is still tongue-twisting and the sampling is still expertly layered.

CCR’s crazy hot streak continues with this nearly-perfect grab bag of rockabilly-flavored barn burners. Evocative lyrics and jangling melodies make a compelling case for John Fogerty being one of the best American songwriters of the past century.

Q-Tip once again proves why he’s one of the most eloquent and dexterous voices in the rap game. With socially conscious lyrics and crystal-clear production (including two tracks helmed by the late great J Dilla), The Renaissance is the full package.

Competently played and occasionally lively, but a bit too cold and sterile to be truly enjoyable. “Tinseltown in the Rain” is the obvious standout.

Once upon a time, in a Paris bedroom, two longtime friends made an album that would bring French house to the masses and change electronic music forever. Homework isn’t Daft Punk’s masterpiece (that would be 2001’s Discovery), but it shines like a raw-cut diamond, displaying the duo’s knack for selecting and manipulating samples to create something entirely new and irresistible.

Primal Scream certainly are unafraid to mash different genres together, and regardless of the results more bands ought to have that kind of creativity. This band is many things, but they’re almost never boring.

Still reeling from the sudden death of bassist Cliff Burton, the surviving members of Metallica pour their grief into this collection of angry, hard-edged screeds against greed and corruption. Of particular is “One,” a musical interpretation of Johnny Got His Gun that is sublimely horrific and still stands as one of the band’s essential songs.

Raw Power not only marks the beginning of David Bowie and Iggy Pop’s incredibly fruitful collaborations, but a more streamlined and powerful vision for the Stooges. Each song hits with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, all crunchy guitars and nasty attitude-just as the purest punk should be.

The album that finally broke Depeche Mode in the US. Hints of the gorgeous darkness that would define Violator and beyond.

The best guitarist the Yardbirds ever had steps out on his own in fine fashion-and brings Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood along for the ride. Six-string wizardry with a bluesy edge, tied together by Stewart’s uniquely gravelly voice.

Before there were Don and Phil, there were Charlie and Ira. The Louvin Brothers, also accomplished in close harmony singing, present murder ballads and odes to country living with both pathos and a bit of a wink.

A gentle and slight album, ideal for a lazy Sunday afternoon. Notable for having two tracks entirely dedicated to drum solos.

A shout of joy all the way through. Iggy Pop retains his punk edge but channels it through more varied songwriting and production (largely courtesy of David Bowie), to phenomenal results.

For an album that’s often considered Kid A’s reheated leftovers, Radiohead still manage moments of incredible beauty and complexity. Jonny Greenwood is in especially fine form here.

Music to hop a train and roam the Midwest to. Before he was defined by “Okie from Muskogee,” Merle Haggard and his band spun country gold out of this set of melancholy tunes.

Jam bands can be an acquired taste-some people love the expansive improvisation, some people find them aimless and pretentious. At Fillmore East manages to find a balance between these extremes with tight musicianship and some truly impressive guitar work (sadly Duane Allman would pass away only seven months later, leaving this album as perhaps his crowning achievement.)

During the recording of this album, Ray Charles became one of the few black artists in the early rock era to gain complete creative control of their music. He puts that control to phenomenal use here, interpreting folk and country standards with a blistering R&B flair.

A barnstormer of an album front to back. Heavy but melodic guitars, pounding drums, and Eddie Vedder’s iconic growl combined with introspective lyrics make Ten a grunge classic and one of the best debuts of the 90s.

Marvin Gaye has, perhaps, one of the most soulful voices ever put to wax. Most artist wouldn’t be able to make a truly “sexy” album without veering into crassness or cringe, but Gaye manages to craft something that is both tuneful and sensual.

Smooth as butter and packed with genuine feeling. The cover of “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” is top-notch.

Gangsta rap may have been conquering the charts, but a few lighter efforts like this one managed to slip by. LL sounds like he’s having fun, and the beats are mostly decent, but there are too many misogynistic and clunky lyrics to call this a truly classic album.

Ocean Rain is so much more than just “the album with that one song from Donnie Darko.” Filled with dreamy arrangements and obtuse vocals, it’s strangely reminiscent of the alt-pop that would develop in future decades.

There are interesting ideas and good beats hidden here, but they’re stretched out and repeated until they’re nonsense. The plot is lost.

It wasn’t the first concept album, but Tommy is arguably the one that made it a viable art form-and changed the Who forever. Towering, anthemic, and surprisingly vulnerable at times, nearly every song is a gem.

Eminem reacts to his newfound fame, with his trademark tongue twister rhymes. There’s fantastic production by Dr. Dre, and some lines are genuinely funny, but the pure shock of Em’s debut feels stale here (not to mention the shocking amount if homophobia and misogyny-I mean, there’s an entire song in which he imagines graphically murdering his ex-wife).

A spooky and atmospheric listen. Perfect for a slow afternoon, though the opening track could have used some editing.

Sprawling, messy, imperfect-but what a listen. Stevie and Christine are both absolutely on fire here.

Probably best when the listener is in fact partaking, but a good listen regardless. A trip-hop staple that takes the ears on a woozy odyssey.

An album that manages to combine danceable melodies with esoteric vocals successfully is rare indeed. If only the vocals weren’t buried so deep in the mix on some songs.

Released early in the pandemic and at the height of the Black Lives Matter protests, Black Is encapsulates that moment in history with blunt lyrics and glittering production. By all means dance to these songs, but your brain will be getting even more of a workout.

After two albums full of balls-to-the-wall hard rock, Led Zeppelin starts its third outing with a shining example of the same-and then says “okay, enough of that, let’s get weird.” From swampy delta blues to sprightly English folk, Zeppelin broaden their horizons and have a damn good time doing it.

Epic in scope but shockingly intimate lyrically, a project almost too ridiculous to succeed that somehow does. Wainwright’s vulnerability is his best quality.

Pure, shiny, hook-driven pop, and that is by no means a bad thing. Jim Kerr sounds great here.

Recorded in the last months of his life (and released two weeks before it ended), You Want It Darker is Leonard Cohen’s final masterpiece, reflecting on the pain and sadness he endured with a sense of acceptance-in the end, it might just have been worth it. Gravelly-voiced with spare instrumentation, this is a truly special listening experience.

The moment when Beyoncé Knowles became BEYONCÉ and firmly secured her place in the musical pantheon. Unafraid to express her sexuality, fully confident in her talents as a singer and ambitions to be an accomplished woman, she offers a beautifully realized sonic odyssey.

Deceptively bubblegum with a punk center, the Cardigans bring an edge to their work that sets it apart from similar American groups. Lovefool will forever remain their signature tune, but songs such as Been It, Choke and their spaced-out take on Iron Man are just as fulfilling to listen to.

An incredible melding of hip-hop and jazz, each track flowing seamlessly into another. A Tribe Called Quest adeptly make social commentary both fun and funny.

If at first the music seems too discordant and harsh, don’t be deceived. There’s a method to Monk’s madness, and soon the beauty and complexity of each track unfolds in a dazzling display.

Guitar virtuoso Steve Howe enters the fold, and at last Yes finally begin to understand what they’re capable of. Unorthodox arrangements and bewildering lyrics, Jon Anderson’s ethereal voice, Chris Squire’s delicate bass, Bill Bruford’s jazz-tinged drumming, Howe’s commanding guitar-all combine for a true prog masterpiece, and the start of a truly epic run for Yes.

Would probably have earned a 4 if not for the Phil Spector of it all. Still, the vocal harmonies are very pretty and the arrangements suitably peppy.

Loud, raucous and a hell of a lot of fun. Phil Lynott’s charisma and talent are evident even in a purely audio format.

Suzanne Vega has a sweet vulnerable voice and a poetic way with lyrics. It’s just a shame that these tend to get buried in mixes that are a bit too spare to support them.

Sailing on the lazy jazz river. Smith’s dexterity on the organ compliments the horn section and rightfully helped popularize the instrument.

Harsh, discordant and chaotic. The most acquired of acquired tastes.

An album which starts with one of the most misunderstood songs in popular music and never lets up the pace. Springsteen is an essential American voice , exploring the myth and reality of this country’s ideals and giving dignity back to the working class.

Madness pay tribute to their English roots with a dizzying mix of music hall, jazz and ska. Would probably be a 4 if not for the incredibly racist “New Delhi.”

A bunch of trust fund kids shouldn’t be able to make music this rough and rebellious, but somehow they hit the sweet spot. New York City Cops kicks ass.

Definitely lives up to its name. Layers upon layers of the very smoothest jazz, delivered as only Miles and his band can.

Having gone electric the previous year, Dylan further expands his sound and lyrical prowess. The musicians are sharp, the words sharper, the experience thrilling.

The man who perfected the Bakersfield sound doing what he does best. Bright and lively, if a bit samey.

The guest roster is impressive and the beats are textured and memorable. Arguably Kanye’s last great work before he descended into the sad, hateful man he has become.

The Queen influence is strong here, and generally that works in Muse’s favor. Matt Bellamy has many opinions about many things, and he seems passionate about them, but those feelings don’t always translate to entertaining, compelling songs.

America was changing, and Bob Dylan had his finger directly on the pulse. Through nine of the best tracks of his career, he expresses youthful fury and maturity beyond his years, at once poetic and clumsy, soulful and fierce.

A strange little album that works both as a whole and when considering each track separately. Somehow both folk-tinged and coldly experimental.

Her greatest triumphs were still ahead in her all-too-shirt life, but Amy Winehouse comes roaring out of the gate with a self-assured debut. Slinky, playful and sensuous.

Johnny Cash’s voice may be hoarse and tremulous with old age and illness (he died just under a year after this album was released), but it is no less powerful and achingly sincere than it was in his prime. American IV’s greater moments come in Cash’s interpretations of songs like Hurt and In My Life; while staying true to the original spirit of these pieces, he adds the hindsight of the joys and trials of his own life, which results in a tremendously moving listening experience.

How refreshing to hear psychedelic 60s music that didn’t come from the US or UK! An intriguing combination of bossa nova, pop and rock.

Knowing Syd Barrett’s tragic life story inevitably colors any listen to The Madcap Laughs with sadness and regret over what might have been. Though there are undoubtedly moments of brilliance, the sound overall is unfinished and nervous.

Beck’s idiosyncratic style finally reaches a wider audience on this, his fifth album. He’s unafraid to experiment, gleefully flitting between styles while keeping his quirks.

The beats are decent and the concept is amusing, but the flow is too sleepy and the lyrics seem shocking and gross just for the hell of it (count the number of times words like vomit, rectum and rape show up). Appealing to a very niche audience.

When the album opens and closes with two of the strongest songs in the Rolling Stones’ catalog, one could be forgiven for assuming the middle’s not much to write home about. But songs like Midnight Rambler and Let It Bleed showcase the Stones’ willingness to diversify their sound and make it darker (and, poignantly, feature Brian Jones’ final contributions to the band he helped form).

Heroes is spacey, unapologetically weird, with chords of vague menace and sly humor-and a treat all the way through. The title track remains one of Bowie and Eno’s towering accomplishments, building to a throbbing emotional climax.

Woodface is uneven, and perhaps a bit too weird lyrically to appeal to some listeners. But there’s a real joy in these songs, and the spirit of collaboration is alive and well.

Johnny Marr really is an underrated guitarist, knowing just what tones to give each song and delicately weaving them around the other instruments. It’s just a shame Morrissey is in especially whiny form here.

To the very end of his life (which came just two days after Blackstar’s release), David Bowie was unafraid to dip his toe into new musical waters; long past the point of having to prove anything to anyone, he still drew inspiration from hip hop and electronic music, art rock and jazz, blending it all into a dazzling, deeply emotional sonic symphony that stands with the very best of his work. A beautiful end to a singular life.

Usually prog and pop don’t mix, but Supertramp have found a way to combine them to generally favorable results. Some of the songs on the B-side are a bit too long, though.

The concept behind this record (the soundtrack to a noir film that doesn’t exist) is more interesting than the record itself. Several tracks do conjure up a nice spooky vibe, but not nearly enough yj warrant a repeat listen.

Making the “we have Björk at home” joke might be going a bit too far here-some tracks have an almost sinister air that’s appealing. But Fever Ray is similar enough to Iceland’s biggest musical export that one comes away feeling disappointed for what could have been.

What a wild time Sam Cooke’s live shows must have been! His passion and intensity are felt through every note of this album, as he wrings sincerity from each song.

An album best suited for late-night listening. Dark and ambient, if not really exceptional.

Janis Joplin has a voice that may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but you just know she’s pulling emotion from the depths of her SOUL. She elevates what would otherwise be unremarkable blues rock into jagged-edged paeans to love, freedom, and the eternal search for happiness.

Many genres are present here, but they’re not blended as well as one might hope. The singles are leagues better than the album tracks.

Some of the loudest, nastiest, sleaziest proto-punk you’ll ever hear, and that’s just how it should be. The New York Dolls laid the groundwork for so many bands they followed, yet they remain underappreciated.

The rhythms are airtight, the synths punchy, Mark Mothersbaugh’s vocals yelping along at just the right pitch. But the magic of Devo really takes hold once their real meaning clicks: wicked social satire masterfully painted with sci-fi and kitsch.

The album that told the world Smashing Pumpkins were here to stay. Excellent fuzz guitar work.

Proved soul wasn’t dead with the advent of the 80s, it just needed to adapt. “If You Think You’re Lonely Now” (yes, the sane song Mariah Carey references in “We Belong Together”) is a stone classic.