I’m shocked to see only one 5 star review for this. All I can say is what this meant to me when it came out. As a kid who was unsure of where or how to fit in, this was a world that I could inhabit. This was a place that felt like it belonged to me and that had tremendous depths to explore. Maybe it doesn’t sound new or different because of everything that’s been influenced by it. It was just serious enough to take seriously, just fun enough to be fun, just rocking enough to be rock, and just different enough from everything else to define the alternative. For an album this weird to be as successful as it was in the monoculture times, and break through to present itself to kids like me was almost a miracle. It was a gateway to a million other things but on its own it just about saved me.

Based on this project, I’m starting to see “he played all the instruments!” as a warning sign, not a recommendation.

Something about African rock always excites me—these distant cousins just sound right together. This record really succeeds in incorporating western influences in a natural way, on top of the Malian Blues that’s already an exciting hybrid. There is also a lot of variety here, from the rock focused Soubor to the Ali Farka Toure influenced Wayei to the acoustic Petit Metier. Musicianship is great, vocals are great. Plus the record is an act of defiance against repression and religious fundamentalism, so what more could you ask for?

I can’t get past the falseness of this: attitudes, ideas and styles borrowed but not understood. It’s grating, repetitive, and empty. An idiot’s idea of what a modern blues record would sound like. They really kind of exposed themselves with that cover of “Never Gonna Give You Up.” It’s so utterly inessential, so offensively soulless, it’s an absolute train wreck. They made it so easy to compare them to the real thing though. You just switch over to Jerry Butler’s version to hear what the song would sound like if it meant anything. Then you could listen to Eddie Floyd’s cover to see how an artist could actually reinterpret it without ruining it—that is if they had any inkling of how to feel music. That was my breaking point. I only had one song left but I couldn’t bear to listen to any more. Goodbye forever Black Keys.

If you think about it, even now there must be at least a million people in the world who would say their favorite band is Boston. Life is weird. I never knew anything about this band, or cared to. I just learned that one guy played most of the instruments, which makes a lot of sense. The playing is all showy, gimmicky, grating, and empty. That kind of consistency is only possible if all the pieces are the product of the same ego.

My first album from the list. Bombastic, silly, pretentious. Not worth a repeat listen.

David Watts to Waterloo Sunset. Golden age Kinks.

Just great.

Pharaoh’s Dance, Spanish Key, John McLaughlin are jams. The others were a bit too discordant for me.

Great musicianship, but not something I'd ever listen to again. This whole record is just too self-satisfied. It would almost be better without the vocals.

So much fun! I had never heard many of these, which made it feel surprisingly fresh. Just judging this as an album of music, it's beside the point whether these records are as good as the sources. The blend of musical traditions gave them a special flavor that's worth experiencing. It all feels very human, and even the flaws made me smile.

This was all new to me. It feels like they left these songs sparse to let people fill in with their fears and hopes about everything that lay ahead. The theme I got was that we could choose to disconnect from our past and turn it and ourselves into something new. Must have been a revelation at the time. Even though it was years ahead, this album gives me a powerful nostalgia for '80s futurism. I don't think I'd ever just listen again on a random Wednesday. But if I ever need to jolt myself into that headspace, this would definitely do the trick.

Struggling to get through this one. Every time one of these songs starts to develop into something good, he introduces something cheesy and it all comes crashing down. If the idea is to be the soundtrack to an imaginary film, I keep thinking it's a disappointing sequel to The Saint (which to be clear is already a pale imitation). The strongest feeling I get from this is that I'd much rather listen its influences (blaxploitation soundtracks, Madchester/electronica). Calling it a 2, but that's generous.

I got really excited for a new discovery from the opening track, but my opinion of this record kept drifting down as I listened to it. The style, instrumentation, and feel should be right in my personal wheelhouse. The drumming in particular is pretty great in spots, and that goes a long way for me. Unfortunately, I just felt that the record never rose above that promise. If it only had a little better dynamics within the songs, development over the course of the album, lyrical substance or style, or vocal performance, I could have been hooked. That's not to say it's a bad record, just that I needed it to have one of those things to give it enough shine to be special. I listened twice, but I don't think I'd ever listen again. I'm sure others could describe it better, and I don't know the context of this artist or album at all, but it's a kind of mellow modern psych/indie rock with female vocals. The lyrical content, as the title suggests, is borderline metaphysical. It seems to be about tapping into a oneness with other people and the universe, finding a hidden truth, ignoring noise. It was fine, but just a little hollow--kind of like a boring person describing a dream or an acid trip that was life-changing for them. Hard to figure how this album could be seen as essential. There are plenty of albums on this list that I absolutely hate, but I have to admit are important in one way or another. This kind of feels like those albums that end up on a bunch of year end lists, and then 3 years later they're utterly forgotten.

My favorite Adele album. She was absolutely peerless and put out a record that showcased everything she does to perfection. So many high points.

Sparse, understated. Showcases his expert songwriting and sensitive singing. He manages to say so much, with so few words, about what people need and what they’ll do if they can’t get it. Above was my reaction without knowing that many of these songs are covers. It’s amazing that his interpretations and the material he added joined these pieces together so well.

Somehow I’d never heard this whole album. Growing up on classic rock radio I’d heard the singles. But they make a lot more sense together. This record feels ahead of it’s time. From the opening notes it’s hard to believe Cinnamon girl was released in 1969. Listening to it today, the extended meaningless solos on Down By the River are a real test of patience. DBTR almost ruins this record for me, but Cowgirl in the Sand saves it. That initial punch after the intro blew me away, and then the first solo is so much more purposeful than DBTR, and the band grooves so hard off it. By the time the second solo comes around I’m ready for something off-kilter, and now the manic energy of it makes sense and lasts just long enough. When the lead blends back into the verse playing a sweet distorted melody, it’s pretty much perfect. As it fades out, I’m ready to play it again.

I guess this is better than their later nonsense. I had a little goodwill for them because when I was a kid learning to play their riffs were really fun. Actually listening to the record is not worth the effort though—no hidden gems. I feel like I’m now absolved from having to keep an open mind about this band, so at least I got that out of it.

Not quite as great as some of what came after, but what a great start. He already knew how to construct a dynamic song and how to write simple but effective lyrics. Not a bad song really but I especially liked the final three of a Mystery Man, Luna and the all time classic American Girl.

Something about these totally overdone arrangements and her generally super straightforward phrasing just bores me to death. To me this is pop not jazz and utterly missing any of the spark that makes jazz worth listening to.

Has a few moments of substance that go beyond gangster fantasy, especially in the second half. I don’t think a lot of rappers then or now were urging listeners to do something about child abuse. Or being so straightforward when it comes to the impacts of systemic racism. He’s saying some important things in 1991 that Americans are just starting to acknowledge in the third decade of the 21st century. Lifestyles of the rich and infamous is a highlight, also escape from the killing fields. I got more out of it than I expected but it’s not something I’m going to be listening to too often. The production let him down somewhat I think—I know this is classic west coast style (heavy on the James brown samples) but a lot of these beats are just kind of flat. If it were a little more focused (like 45 minutes instead of 75) and the beats were a little stronger, this would have gone to the next level for me.

Just couldn’t connect with this. Pleasant, super competent music. It just doesn’t mean anything to me unfortunately. It’s dance music and demands too much attention to be background.

This sounds like a missing link between 80’s pop styles and 90’s alternative pop. “So Here I Come” is a standout and a great example. Dense samples you couldn’t get away with anymore, like De La Soul’s classic lost albums. It’s smart and fun and has things to say. I remember Buffalo Stance and Kisses on the Wind, but there’s a lot more here.

Sunny early 80s new wave. The musicianship and arrangements are really strong. Reminds me at times of XTC, Talking Heads, and The Beat. Pretty fun but somehow a little slight.

Too old for this.

Clayton’s playing is just unimpeachable here. Technically brilliant and full of soul. John Mayall’s vocals/piano/harmonica are to my mind just about adequate, if not especially convincing. He’s at least earnest; and even if it’s influenced by Otis Rush or Buddy Guy, it’s not a cringeworthy imitation like some others of the time. John McVie is doing his thing on bass. Drums are a little all over the place—WTF is happening on that extended solo on “What’d I Say”! Pretty good horns. “Steppin’ Out” absolutely rips. Clapton’s guitar is a 5 and worth coming back to, while everything else is a solid 3, so I’m calling this a 4. Will definitely listen to this again.

A little disappointing. Two great classics but no hidden gems for me. I think I’m good with their greatest hits.

What more can you say about this. Beautiful, devastating, a masterpiece. I’ve listened to this record hundreds of times yet I’m overjoyed to have it pop up here so I can listen again.

This seems like music that’s really of a time and place that is not mine and I have no interest in visiting. It’s dance music that to me doesn’t hold a lot of interest as something to listen to in normal life. The repetition really got to me, filling me with a sense of dread. You mean I have to hear this same meaningless thing at least four times in a row and there’s nothing I can do about it? I can appreciate the skill it took to put this together, and they were certainly successful in creating a certain atmosphere, but I’m glad I’ll never have to experience it again. Also what was up with copying multiple elements from the Beastie Boys “The Maestro”? I wondered if it was based on the name dispute with the original Dust Brothers who produced Paul’s Boutique, but that’s not one of their songs. It was off-putting either way.

Definitely agree this is an album you should hear before you die. I had no idea these guys were talking about all kinds of social issues, while simultaneously blazing past all reasonable limits on shredding. They seem to take the music/technique seriously but themselves not too seriously. I don’t think I’ll ever take the trip again but it was quite a ride.

Couldn’t get into it. It just felt very phony to me. I don’t need Billie Joe to tell me how to feel about George Bush, or anything else that actually matters. What on earth is the point of slick, serious Green Day? Don’t get me wrong, I also dislike the rest of their music. But my sense of it is that it at least has a certain integrity in being the anthem for a kind of kid who actually comes from a totally safe suburban home, but chooses to be a dirtbag because everything else is too much effort. Or maybe it’s just that one song.

I could listen to this album every day. And every day would be better for it.

What an insane debut. She goes from the unstoppable cosmic blast of joy in Girls Just Want to Have Fun, to the tenderness of Time After Time, slays a Prince cover, turns out an anthem about masturbation in 1984, and drops one of the best sing along songs of all time (All Through the Night). And that’s just in the first 6 songs. I’ll admit I haven’t listened to the back half too often. She threw a decent ska track in there (Witness)—OK I can go with her on that one. “I’ll Kiss You” is a little iffy but I can’t fault the techno funk intro at least. The Betty Boop interlude “He’s so Unusual” is harmless fun I guess. “Yeah Yeah” almost sounds like Oingo Boingo in a good way, but the vocal overdubs are a little too distracting. OK now I get why this might be a little overlooked. The huge drop off of the last three leaves you with some doubt about where the record stands in music history. But I don’t care. She did 5 stars worth in the first 20 minutes, so she gets to flex on the world with a weird victory lap after that.

A wet paper bag of an album. Pointlessly joyless.

More melodic than I expected, but the industrial noises did get annoying in places. If ambient means inoffensive background music then this mostly does the trick. This would be a good soundtrack for a video you’re trying to make look cooler than the subject matter really is. Like a retrospective of a late-90s visit to E3.

Half of these are all time greats. I’d say it’s similar to Elvis’ first album or a the Beatles’ in terms of quality and consistency—maybe even a little better than both. But even the oddities are cool. It’s kind of fun to hear him lament his bad luck in love with a reference to his empty Coke. Listen to this record if you need to be in a better mood and you only have 26 minutes to get there.

Wow—really enjoyed this. It’s a witty, fun, varied record. Making me rethink my prejudice against “punk.” I hope there’s more like this out there! As an aside, I had to do a mental reset on this because Apple had the release year as 1988 which must have been a reissue. 1979 makes a lot more sense.

A very “lite” version of late 80’s alternative rock. It’s like if your favorite band sat down with you and every time you said, “This is my favorite part!” they cut it out. The lyrics struck me as either trite or just uninteresting, and their cadence was often awkward, so no help there. Pretty inessential.

If the premise here was to take cheesy ‘80s songs and strip them down and use their best parts to make something better I could get behind it. I somewhat enjoyed the fun that the disco/80s sources brought to it. But I guess I just don’t like this genre because at best this just felt unfulfilling. At worst, anytime there was a vocal sample, sooner or later I was forced to skip. “Drop the Pressure” was particularly bad. The word that came most to mind while listening was “insufferable.” I wanted to like it, but upon full consideration, I can’t deny the conclusion. I hated it.

Trying to listen to this with an open mind because I’ve always had a probably irrational dislike for Jay-Z. Something about his style has always rubbed me the wrong way. On the second time through I’m starting to get it. He definitely does what he does with a lot of skill, and maybe that’s masked by the looseness of his particular style. Seems to me that his strength is not so much the vocals in isolation but how they fit the beats. I get why people like it, it’s just not for me. In terms of production, Kanye somehow knows how to make the classic soul samples sound new, so his tracks are pretty enjoyable. You have to give him that even if he’s a morally bankrupt human being. The production is strong throughout really, and the consistent feeling I got from the beats is that they sounded expensive, which I guess fits. Jay’s lyrics in general are fine I guess. I’m not impressed with his wordplay or metaphors or anything. And some of it is just tedious or corny. Hard to excuse the casual misogyny and homophobia—this record was made in the 21st century. A couple of tracks rose above but even then I didn’t learn a whole lot or find anything that spoke to something unique enough to stick with me. He tried to address that in the music by saying it speaks to people living like how he grew up. Fair enough I guess. But it is possible to create great art from the perspective of a minority culture without having to cater to a majority audience. So I’m not ready to call this a classic just because other people really liked it. All in all, I appreciated the craft of this a little more than before I actually sat down and really listened, but it’s still not something I’d choose to listen to. I can at least say I listened to it now so I’m not coming from a place of ignorance.

A nice blend of genres that at the time seemed cutting edge, especially for dance music. It still works but I think it would only really impress with the benefit of nostalgia. I’m guessing it probably means a lot to people who went out dancing to these mostly positive songs. As a suburban kid in the USA, that was not my experience of it unfortunately. None of the songs blow me away at this point—even Movin on Up or Loaded. Still it’s a pleasant enough way to spend an hour and think about a time when it still seemed possible that humanity might get it together.

Something about African rock always excites me—these distant cousins just sound right together. This record really succeeds in incorporating western influences in a natural way, on top of the Malian Blues that’s already an exciting hybrid. There is also a lot of variety here, from the rock focused Soubor to the Ali Farka Toure influenced Wayei to the acoustic Petit Metier. Musicianship is great, vocals are great. Plus the record is an act of defiance against repression and religious fundamentalism, so what more could you ask for?

It’s funny how a slight change in the ratio of ingredients can throw off a recipe for one person or perfect it for another. To me this has so much good stuff, really the whole instrumental core of grunge. If you stirred in some melody and some lyrical subtlety it would be all good. And then add a dash of rage for spice and it’s perfect. Instead we got no melody, all rage. I’ve always found that kind of punk/hardcore vocals a little dull but also whiny—impotent really. The lyrics here are not too bad but when coupled with that vocal style, they just make my goodwill and patience evaporate. At the first sign of pretension, I’m out. I’m sure there are lots of people who love this record because it’s giving them a double helping of what they like best. But to me it’s just unbalanced. I was absolutely the perfect age for this record when it came out, but I had no interest in it then; and I think honestly if I had sat down and listened to the whole record as a teenager I’d have had the same reaction as today.

This feels like a big part of the soundtrack to my early childhood, I think because this was the sort of thing everyone seemed to agree was pretty good at the time. This is what you’d expect to hear in someone’s car or on TV as an example of modern music. It has one great song in Shining Star. Plus Reasons and Africano are pretty solid. Otherwise super-polished and inoffensive.

Not a lot compelling here. Some very earnest lyrics, but not in a charming way. The music is barely above easy listening. And somehow she seems to be both over singing and barely awake at the same time. As remarkable as that is, I can’t imagine why this was put on the list.

I’m so proud of myself for spotting Michael McDonald on backing vocals on some of these tracks! Nothing more to say.

An absolute gem. This is the first album I got here that I had never heard at all, but I absolutely loved. Great songwriting, production, and performances. It has depth and soul and grooves.

For me, these guys have a double album’s worth of incredible music if you put it all together. I’m not sure any of their original records is an all time great, but even if so, this is not it. One 5* song here, two 4*, one 3*, and some self-indulgent duds.

A little dull, sometimes repetitive. Cinematic, but what’s the point?

Big dumb fun. Bang a Gong was not a fluke—although it is by far the best example of its species. This shares some DNA with Bowie, but it’s all somehow less evolved. I don’t mind the nursery rhyme lyrics, B-minus solos, or caveman drums. You just have to put it on and not think too much.

Thanks to this project I’m now familiar with Willie Nelson’s great Red Headed Stranger, which sets the bar for a love/jealousy/murder/redemption cycle. This record doesn’t manage to rate a comparison. There are some flashes of greatness—Streets of Bakersfield in particular. There was also some moderately clever wordplay and at least it wasn’t wall to wall culture wars posturing and cartoonish stereotypes like some modern male country artists churn out. But it’s a little too glossy for me, even though this is supposed to be a more roots alternative to mainstream country. The big problem was I just couldn’t feel enough from these songs to make me want to listen again. Unlike Willie, Dwight wasn’t able to bring me into his world enough to get over the repellence of his characters. And maybe I’m too sensitive but I thought there was a hint of antisemitism in “I Got You.” And “Dixie” and “rebel” are words that have meanings—they’re not just synonyms for the South. So you can take your traitorous, racist, revisionist history garbage and shove it, Dwight. There’s too much great music in the world for me to waste another minute on Dwight Yoakam.

Pixies get an automatic 5*. The moments of gathering energy, chaos barely controlled, followed by frantic eruptions still kill me. I love Kim Deal maybe more than any other musician. I was at the rock and roll hall of fame and the thing that geeked me out the most was that they had one of her basses. This album was tested under extreme conditions today—running late to school with my son and he was freaked, but this insane record somehow calmed him down.

If you think about it, even now there must be at least a million people in the world who would say their favorite band is Boston. Life is weird. I never knew anything about this band, or cared to. I just learned that one guy played most of the instruments, which makes a lot of sense. The playing is all showy, gimmicky, grating, and empty. That kind of consistency is only possible if all the pieces are the product of the same ego.

Malcolm McLaren doesn’t add a whole lot. Most of what’s worthwhile here is better appreciated from the original sources. Hip-hop is a very misleading description for what this is—mostly a compilation of music stolen from different African musicians.

Appreciate the dense lyrics and Blackthought’s sometimes impressive wordplay. Don’t appreciate the inconsistency and sometimes immaturity. Pretty cool but I don’t think there’s enough here to convince me to return.

A slightly more rock version of English folk music evolved than Fairport Convention, with a dash of soul from Steve Windwood’s vocals. Pretty good stuff!

Music for dorks, wimps, geeks—my people, who could never be cool enough to be cool outcasts. Still sounds totally unique.

I know people love this record but I just find it creepy. So much is devoted to weird revenge fantasies with a not-so-secret core of misogyny. If that’s what you think of people, Jarvis, you’re a miserable bastard. And if these are just characters I can’t imagine a situation where I’d want to spend any time with them. I was not blown away by the musicianship. The singing was off putting and also unskilled. I didn’t think there was a lot of great song craft here. I’m glad I didn’t waste any time on it when it came out.

I haven’t heard this in a few years and I’m so relieved it holds up. Maybe the messages are pretty simple, but they still resonate. We all need to feel sometimes that the struggle is worth it, just to make it through, or if we’re really lucky to try to actually build something. The mix of electronic sounds and more traditional instruments in psychedelic pop felt new and exciting at the time. It might feel like it’s of a time now, but I don’t think it’s dated. This album helped define a sound that feels familiar in retrospect. Just because one of the most popular current reviews is someone trying to appear cool by dismissing the whole album by saying “plagiarism,” let me just say, “Shut the fuck up.”

Solid post-Beatles pop from a journeyman band with all the tools. This is the sort of record that you hear and think there must be lots more like this out there—just good pop music that’s not groundbreaking but has no serious flaws. But it’s not that common at all. The songwriting, musicianship, and especially the brothers’ harmonies are all strengths. That’s why you can listen to the record the first time and think these must be famous songs; I must have heard them before, even though you haven’t. Glad I heard it.

The sound of 1994 for me. I can’t be objective about it. I love every left turn no matter how questionable. They tuned up all their previous phases and turned out an epic feast. It seemed to cover every possible aspect of my life in some way: playing an absurd amount of basketball (badly but with a certain flair), trying meet girls, broadening my musical horizons, working on being a better person, just goofing off with friends. I might actually love Paul’s Boutique or Check Your Head more, but this one is peak Beastie Boys for me in many ways.

Let down a bit by this. I hadn’t heard it in a while and I remembered really liking it. She never really seemed to live up to her potential. Listening to this now I think I heard it at the time with the hope that she would. Somehow the record itself feels like a reflection of that as even the songs don’t seem to develop enough.

My favorite record by one of my favorite bands. No skips. Rips at any volume and in any setting. Kim Deal is the absolute best and her singing and playing are the soul of the record to me. But all the parts are great. On this, which must be way past my 100th listen, I’m really listening to the drums the most. So tasty, but with so much variety to them. Listen to the tom tom madness and weird fills on Dead and then the straight ahead snare/tambourine On Monkey Gone to Heaven. Totally different and you can’t imagine either song having the same impact without them.

This just isn’t what I listen to music for. All the digressions and unusual rhythms and chromatics and other gimmicks are very jarring. They make it impossible for a song to establish a mood, let alone lead anywhere. It’s almost worse that they sometimes flirt with building a serious groove, because it is such a let down when they then pull the rug. This album really is a chore to listen to. If you’re wondering why other reviews mention a cover of America, apparently there are different versions. If you were spared like I was, I think you can consider yourself lucky.

I can’t get past the falseness of this: attitudes, ideas and styles borrowed but not understood. It’s grating, repetitive, and empty. An idiot’s idea of what a modern blues record would sound like. They really kind of exposed themselves with that cover of “Never Gonna Give You Up.” It’s so utterly inessential, so offensively soulless, it’s an absolute train wreck. They made it so easy to compare them to the real thing though. You just switch over to Jerry Butler’s version to hear what the song would sound like if it meant anything. Then you could listen to Eddie Floyd’s cover to see how an artist could actually reinterpret it without ruining it—that is if they had any inkling of how to feel music. That was my breaking point. I only had one song left but I couldn’t bear to listen to any more. Goodbye forever Black Keys.

The popular songcraft here is strong but the problem is that it doesn’t serve much of a purpose. If you took Paul McCartney at his schmaltziest, added some overproduced Paul Simon with all the substance trimmed away, and finished with a dash of Elton John glitz, this is what you’d get. He absolutely nailed what he was trying to make, it seems, but it’s all so flavorless I can’t imagine why you’d want to try it. Plus the second half really reveals a core of misogyny that poisons anything decent there.

Wasn’t terrible. It just felt like the fusion was the point. That seems to have been enough for people not to mind how shallow and safe it was in a lot of places. For me, a bunch of B to C level parts didn’t magically add up to an A. It’s funny that David Hidalgo (of Los Lobos) guested on this because I was thinking as I listened to it how much more depth Los Lobos has if you want to hear music that blends mainstream US (folk/blues/rock) and Latino traditions. And then I was thinking how many better versions of conscious old-school hip hop there are out there from this era (for instance Dilated Peoples or Jurassic 5), and up pops Chali 2na. Not that those groups are anything earth-shaking. But they do a much better job of scratching that particular itch. On a final note, I was playing this out loud and the last track “Cuando Canto” came on. My son, who is a pretty fluent Spanish speaker, came by and without prompting said, “Wow those lyrics are not very good are they.” And now he keeps singing “Cuando Canto” at random moments to annoy me. So for those of us who don’t speak Spanish, we don’t have to feel bad that we’re not giving it a fair shot—seems it’s equally bland in both languages.

I’ve always disregarded this album for fairly superficial reasons, and really based on one song—Doll Parts. First, Courtney Love is just not a great singer technically. Listening to the album now, I can see how her voice works better in more aggressive, punk-leaning songs. But totally exposed on “Doll Parts” I always found her voice annoying. Second, the rhythm of the guitar and vocal on Doll Parts are so simplistic and awkward, it always sounded to me like something a band of junior high kids would turn out. And to be honest the lyrics are just dumb. I was surprised by the more sophisticated music on the rest of the album. I didn’t hate it to be honest. But I think the flaws of Doll Parts are there in the rest of the record too, and they’re enough to make this something I probably won’t listen to again. This melodic, softer version of Hole needs a stronger vocalist than Courtney Love to pull it off. And I think some of the songs are mixed to give more space to her vocals in a way that makes them feel a bit neutered. I’m probably too old now to be hearing the rest of these lyrics for the first time, but a lot of them are pretty dumb.

Listening to this album for the first time in years I was struck by how much I liked the production. It just sounds great—clean and full but not too slick. I was surprised it’s even 45 minutes because it’s full of great songs but it never drags for me. What a fun record.

I know this is one you’re supposed to like. It’s important and you can dance to it! But I always wonder if the critics who said this was one of the best records of the 2000s ever dust it off and listen to it now. And did they ever dance, or did they just imagine that they might? I could see this meaning a lot to the right person if it came to them at the right time, but I’m kind of surprised at the level of reverence there was for it generally. I mean … it’s fine really. I thought the lyrics were a little overwrought. The singing was a little overstylized and underfelt. I like dense layers and there was a lot to discover if you listen closely, so that was a plus. And they did try to build some tension and textural changes. I didn’t think they 100% succeeded in making those into compelling grooves though, or in using those changes to build something moving. Without achieving a climax of one kind or another, sometimes the music just felt heavy—overloaded to the point of being suffocating. I think they got closest on Golden Age, which is almost great. But even there, I was dying for it to break through into at least one moment of ecstasy or else chaos. I guess since it seems to be ironic/warning they didn’t want to do that. A lot of talent went into this, but it never got up high enough for me to want to listen again. Its a weird 3 for me because if it could have lived up to its ambitions, I can imagine a world where it’s a 5. But since it didn’t, it’s almost worse than something simple done well. I don’t want to hear it again so maybe it should be a 2. But what the hell.

Based on this project, I’m starting to see “he played all the instruments!” as a warning sign, not a recommendation.

Big nope. I don’t know what they intended but to start right off the bat trying to profit off the atrocities of the Holocaust means I can’t listen any further.

RHCP got stuck in a paradox, I think. Who could have predicted that these knuckleheads would make it into the 90s, let alone a new century? When you’re around that long, you have to evolve. But you can’t totally leave behind your identity. Well the core of this band’s charm doesn’t look good on a bunch of guys turning 40. And what exactly does barely clever raunch evolve into? As this record shows, definitely not wisdom. They used up whatever they had on Blood Sugar Sex Magic. In my dream, they made a deal with John Frusciante in the middle of the Blood Sugar Sex Magic tour that they would go out on top if he would just cheer up for a minute. They played a last triumphant show with Nirvana and Pearl Jam in support (look it up), gave each other a big hug, and called it a day. Through many twists and turns they all found their way back to each other and today they run a garden center together in Torrence. They look their age and they never ever mention that they were once a band.

The record shows off what Johnny Cash has left and what he doesn’t. To me, a song that’s kind of monotonous and slow, like Hurt or Personal Jesus, just becomes painfully dull when it’s slowed down. What’s he supposed to do with it really—there’s no way to perform it with emotion. I really can’t stand the production on those experiments either. They’ve thrown all kinds of layers on them to make them sound ominous or dramatic, and it comes off as really phony. Bridge Over Troubled Waters is pretty egregious. The production is so bad that at points they forced him into William Shatner territory. This man with such a unique voice, that miraculously still worked was reduced to an awkward croak. The number of Johnny Cash recordings left to come out were clearly numbered, and they wasted a precious few on some nonsense. I’m not his biggest fan even but that seems just plain wrong. I will say he does a pretty good job with Desperado, but I just hate the fuckin Eagles, man. On the other end you have some of his own songs, or other country or traditional songs, and his interpretation really shines. He’s obviously mastered his craft over decades. His voice isn’t quite as strong anymore (but pretty good all things considered—especially on Streets of Laredo). For me, that shines a light on everything else he brings to the performance. 3 stars for an icon proving his status; minus 1 for some atrocious choices made by other people who thought they were clever.

I wish reviews could be downvoted, so we could take collective action against morons who think it’s funny to discriminate against redheads. How pathetic a person do you have to be to try to inflate your self worth by putting down people with a different hair color. The best thing you can say about yourself is at least I have the same hair as everyone else? On the flip side, this album sucks. As an official defender of redheads I hereby give you permission to hate it on its own merits without worrying about being discriminatory. I believe the last song has an attempted dub breakdown in the middle, which is just unconscionable.

Moronic

I’ve probably heard this more than any other album ever. This time through I tried an experiment and listened to it more as a metaphor about bringing more love into our lives in every way. Of course it’s an album about sex and romantic love. But I think Marvin had a much broader version of love in mind too. He’s pretty straightforward about it at times but also I think he just had his love dial turned up. Try walking around with the security of If I Should Die Tonight (if you can manage it), the openness of Let’s Get it On, and the joy of Keep Getting It On, and the world is a beautiful place.

I’m shocked to see only one 5 star review for this. All I can say is what this meant to me when it came out. As a kid who was unsure of where or how to fit in, this was a world that I could inhabit. This was a place that felt like it belonged to me and that had tremendous depths to explore. Maybe it doesn’t sound new or different because of everything that’s been influenced by it. It was just serious enough to take seriously, just fun enough to be fun, just rocking enough to be rock, and just different enough from everything else to define the alternative. For an album this weird to be as successful as it was in the monoculture times, and break through to present itself to kids like me was almost a miracle. It was a gateway to a million other things but on its own it just about saved me.

Seeing this cover pop up reminded me of when I saw it for the first time in 1997. I was doing DJ slots at odd hours on our college radio station and there was a big bin of new CDs we were supposed to choose from for some required proportion of our shows. One of the jobs of the volunteers was to review these albums and put brief notes on the cover so the DJs would have an idea of what to check out. This one said basically don’t be fooled, I’m a sensitive singer songwriter. I can’t remember what songs I played at the time but I do remember thinking that was spot on and I happily played this record every show until it dropped out of the new music bin. The next memory I have of this is listening to it more and more after graduation, driving around LA. I played it for my younger brother and said to him I love this guy, he’s kind of folky but his music really rocks. As I played it for him I kept saying OK I think this next one is a loud one. I just had the impression that these were dynamic songs with some kind of strong life force. This was before these songs became famous for being used in movie scenes to telegraph melancholy. Although they’re sometimes dark, I didn’t think of them as being just that. They’re expertly constructed, layered, and dynamic, musically and lyrically. There is anger here, frustration, alienation and loss, but also joy and hope. I’ve listened to this album hundreds of times. Sometimes I play it as background music because I know it so well, it doesn’t even engage my brain enough to distract from whatever I’m trying to do. I can literally sing along while reading something else. Other times I play it to get into the headspace of driving around LA, feeling the unique atmosphere of the city. Sometimes I listen close in headphones and try to pick out something different—one of the layers of guitars or vocals, an odd shift in timing, an unexpected chord change. It’s always rewarding. I guess what I’m saying is, this is not a one-note artist or record. Try listening to this record when you’re happy. Last time I heard it was riding the train down the pacific coast to San Diego. It was equally amazing as a soundtrack to bleak downtowns and glorious beaches.