If this album doesn't make you want to pull a rail of the dirtiest coke/meth you can find in the worst part of England, I don't know what's wrong with you. I'm gonna give this one 5 stars, because for it is the platonic ideal of what it is. There's no making an album more this than this--if that makes sense. It feels like the future in which the worst has happened. So it seems like we're all on track to living in a Prodigy soundtrack. This from start to stop relentlessly executes its near singular visual. But, for real this fucks. It kicks all kind of ass. Breakbreaks, disgusting synths, high BPM, thrusting, violent dance songs. It feels like an album to fuck or to kill to. Maybe both. Heaven help us.

***3 Nary an edge to be found here. Maybe in the lyrics? Even the moments of angularity go down smooth. Peg is a good song, don't really need much else.

****4 What a great band. Categorize this one as trippy, psychedelic summer fun. Wide ranging influences, excellent, technical, joyful guitars. This one hits my sweet spot. The vocals are good, if a little dated "indie"esque. It flows nicely as an album, revealing more diverse influences as it goes along. Rocking to experimental to pastoral. First time listening, will definitely give this one many more spins. The band name had put me off, it being pretty bad, but man, as bad as their name is their music is good.

I’ve just begun my journey, and three albums in, this is the first one that I’ve actually heard many many (many) times. When this album came out, I was living in a two bedroom apartment in Atlanta, with a powerful speaker system, a bong, and new (now ex) wife. This album featured heavily in my life at the time. I had seen Soundgarden before their major label breakthrough success. On the Loud Love Tour, I stood right by a speaker and my ears rang obnoxiously for three days. I feared that it was permanent. So this was one of “those” albums—an album too inextricably bound to a long-ago life period to ever achieve any amount of distance from it. Their gestures towards dark psychedelia seem only half the way there. My guess is that Kim Thayil was the true head in the band, whereas the rest maybe were more a preponderance of beer drinkers. Their heavy, gloomy cock rock is when they gel as a convincing unit. But they really are a mix of the two. I just think they are better at straight heavy doomy rock than sonic exploration. Kim was always the most interesting element of the band with his raga-tinged solos. Head Down is their most on-the-nose psychedelic offering, but it really covers no new ground and is lyrically and musically obvious. Half is actually adventurous, but other than the sweet raga lick (it seems wasted here). It's not good. The singing is off key and by Ben Shepard. Limo Wreck might come as close to a satifying synthesis, but the chorus is not as strong as the verse, but the middle-end bit is pretty sick, with proggy changes. Seems scared to stay there though, and they pretty quickly return to the middling chorus for the end. Spoonman is kind of what they are best at. A sick, non 4/4 riff, slightly inane lyrics and Cornell caterwauling. Black Hole Sun, is impossible to get distance from. I really like it. It holds up, but, man, I've just heard it too much and in too many different contexts to actually know what I think. Kickstand is the most filler song on this album. Which is saying something given the vocals on Half. Never should have made it on. Pure cock rock, even if it had a little irony baked in. Fourth of July was my favorite cut on the album when it first came out, and probably still is. The mega-downtuned, distorted guitars grinding along was definitely the new idea of grunge before it broke big, and this song is a perfect example of this. Best lyrics, mood. Just want to bury my head in the speakers for this one. Just Like Suicide: good build and gnarly solo from Kim on this one. I thought I'd like this album more upon re-listen, but, alas, it is merely good, not great. Some really good songs and some that don't stick. Surprisingly weak choice for an opener given the better choices. This is definitely a bloated album that could have been much better through subtraction. The highs are pretty high, and the lows are meh. Stand outs: Fell on Black Days Black Hole Sun Spoonman The Day I Tried to Live 4th of July Just Like Suicide

Ok, this seems like it was a hoot to watch and the recording is very good. The horns are very present and high fidelity. Polished arrangements. For jazz, it feels meticulously orchestrated and oddly constrained. Like jazz in an expensive suit. Mannered. Except for an extended drum solo at the end. Each song feels like an exhibition. Can comfortably say that this, as well respected and heralded as it is, is not my jam. Is this the pinnacle of urbane jazz? I don’t know. All I know is that I’ve tried listening to Duke Ellington before, even had a CD, and it left me mostly cold. I can see why bebop and less-buttoned up strains of jazz followed this stuff. I am, however, deeply ignorant here. The thing is I do enjoy big band stuff with singers, but just can’t get down with this.

Like most double albums, this has bloat. Personally, the bluesier numbers could have been left out (Custard Pie opens and is a pretty disgusting metaphor for pussy eating—for better and worse Robert Plant oozes horniness), but man, once Kashmir hits, this thing takes off. The ascending looping progression creates black magical tension, beautifully relieved by the descending chorus. In the light is a perfect companion to Kashmir with a spacey beginning followed by one of the sickest riffs in rock. Ten Years Gone, again, is a compositional masterpiece just bursting with complementary ideas. Still, one wishes this were pared down into the impossibly good album it could have been. One can really feel just how much of a “band” these guys were. It feels like you’re in the room a lot of the time. Even though much of it is elaborately composed, it feels loose. The drums swing and the whole group swaggers together piratically. It goes without saying that Led Zeppelin delivered a sound that was near impossible to duplicate. Technically virtuosic yet

One of those perfect albums of sustained mood. I’d put in the same category as Disintegration even though they are miles apart musically. Probably the most perfect album for classy relaxing after a day of work. A musical drug. When I was a kid, I viscerally did not like the crass honking of certain saxophonists, and that led me—wrongly—to think I didn’t like the instrument itself. The playing on this album is so melodic, breathy, and tasteful, it has an erotic/narcotic flavor that I think only the saxophone could deliver. I never really got jazz, but I get this album. The lightly plucked bossa nova guitar provides the perfect pillowy backing for the saxophone, and the mildly intoned vocals. Everyone strives to set a certain tone and mood. And it succeeds perfectly.

A poison pill wrapped in beauty and humor, this album is amazing. Bittersweet. The language is simple, yet clever and devastatingly potent. The arrangements are delicate, lovely and pastoral. The humor softens the bleakness. Truly an album of the human condition. The protests are potently stated for lack of stridency. Sick people in a sick country consuming themselves through appetitive desires, imperialism and capitalism. It yearns for a simpler, more rural solution to the ailments of the world, but these are but fantantasia. A eulogy for America. Folk/country music relies on the strength of the lyrics, and this album would be near impossible to be surpasses on that measure. The production has a light touch. No strings or studio tricks here. But that works very well because it puts Prime, his unpretentious, sincere vocal delivery and lyrics at the forefront. The backing band is gentle and melodic with sweet phrases of lap steel and occasional violin. There is zero new musical ground being broken here, but it serves its strengths perfectly. A beautiful, pure, honest work of art

When this one came up on the page, I was like, "who?" "What?". I have no idea what this album will be. Genre, nothing. Exciting. The album starts with smooth R&B Soul, follows it with a very funky song--I think we might be getting somewhere here!--and then for the rest of the album goes back to smooth R&B Soul. Nothing--for me--extraordinary here. The singing is good and soulful, if nondescript. The guitar playing is jazzy, clean, melodic, subtly interesting. The keyboards are good, though veering only slightly into synth cheese here and there. When it was over, I thought "that was it??" I probably won't be returning to this one.

This album was released when I was 12/13 years old, so still a huge time for radio but MTV was ascendent, and a huge time for me as an adolescent. When you are young there are so relatively few albums that you've listened to. So some of these songs are deep-carved into my brain. I did not have this album and I had visceral reactions to some songs at the time. This will be an interesting listen. Ok, so when I was a kid I remember waking up to Karma Chameleon on my clock radio and disliking it viscerally. I thought it was vacuous, redundant and irredeemable. I don’t think that I’ve changed much on that front. An ear worm for sure, but in this case that is a bad thing. I dislike the excursions into faux gospel, of which there are a lot of them. Perhaps in a bid to give them more authenticity, they often have an emoting Aretha Franklin-type singer going ham in the background. She sounds much like the Dark Side of the Moon background singer, but here it doesn’t work for me, as it somewhat does there, due to the fact that it’s put in a gospel-lite setting rather than a contrasting one, like histrionic psychedelic prog rock. Changing Every Day is where I found some relief, having a jazzier chord progression brought forward by a nice sounding bass line. It kind of gave me slight Police vibes, which might not be too far fetched given the time and place they both were operating. In fact, the bass is the best part of this album. There are also some passably tolerable 80s funk disco tracks. But they are kind of tepid in both categories. Lyrically,musically this whole thing is a trifle. I suspect that any transgression was in the presentation. Which is cool, but really wish there was some music to match. It has its fair share of Time Capsule 80s benneton ad social justice cheese like Melting Pot. My favorite track might just be the instrumental full-candelabra and strings cinematic affair closer, Romance Revisited.

I wrote a very long review of this and it got flushed. A sonic confection. Every single penny is on the screen. Razor sharp, lyrical guitars. Almost, no definitely a flex in its own ability. No mere group of mortals could have created this. Biggest surprise: She Makes Me. An almost velveteqsue psychedelic beauty

Lemme guess—this is from Presummer of Love Sanf Francisco or LA? Very of it’s time. Not a bad thing in this case. This is an interesting document. Sometimes good, sometimes up it’s own ass, but it is the record of believers in the thing they are creating. This thing has jazz flute all over it, occasional harpsichord, jazzy vocal lines and of course bluesy belting one’s as well. It’s obvious that this album came before they had standardized mixing practices. The drums and bass are mixed hard right, with guitars often left and the vocals sitting in the middle. I’m sure that when stereo became available, hard panning probably seemed logical. She Comes in Colors is my favorite representation of just pure colorful psychedelia. Revelation, the long long exploratory end track is not as great but was probably fun to drop acid to before acid went mainstream.

I listened a lot to this album in the 90s when I was then married to a hippie girl. I enjoyed it, in spite of my then acid-punk leanings. She dragged me to a show—I was being a pill about it—and I ended up maybe enjoying it more than her? I remember just saying that “it’s just a bunch of old guys up there wearing it out”. Of course now I’m a year away from how old Jerry was then. He died later that year I believe. So upon relisten. Not bad, the only real clunker is Operator. This is one of two albums held up by Deadheads to counter the argument that they couldn't write a good album, and sure, they did that. This one does not betray AT ALL what the band is remembered for today, which is psychedelic exploration. They tried to write a hit album ala CSN&Y and kind of succeeded. But, as surprisingly good as the harmonies are--given how bad they often were live--do they hold up against other California harmony bands of the time? I don't think so. Anyway, Friend of the Devil is a timeless americana classic. And Ripple is good shit. Other than that, you know, the Dead are better at other things. This album doesn't, and doesn't want to, show what they were capable of achieving via an inspired Dark Star, and ok, but on the album-making front they are outclassed by many many other bands.

*Rubs hands* I loved Radiohead so much that I've distanced myself from them. Weird? Maybe. They were my favorite band. I idolized them. I just thought that maybe I got too caught up in them. So, other than hearing a song here and there, I haven’t listened to an album of theirs straight through since maybe A Moon Shaped Pool. It will be interesting for me to revisit them from a more neutral perspective, if that's possible. Love this album. It’s gonna be a 4.5 for me. Really kind of mostly gentle and spookily atmospheric. As always, interesting production, with little fleeting soundscapey sounds melting into strings, vocals and who knows what else. The people who don’t like Radiohead, I get. This isn’t dance music, this isn’t singles music, it’s not mood music, although it does evoke a mood. But this stuff is like beautiful art house cinema. Evocative, impressionist, deliberately obscure rather than audience pleasing. It has moments of sublime sad tenderness and fragile beauty that’s just not going to be the reason a lot of people are looking for in music. No shade to them. Thom gets some grief for his obscure lyrics, but they work so well in these contexts. They keep the song eternal. The meaning is in the emotions. Not Absolute Music or Program Music but certainly arguments for both. Who else does Radiohead than Radiohead? But Bodysnatchers is a fucking ripper.

An album so good as to cast doubt on other 5 star ratings. Sublime is often overused, but here, well, it is as properly descriptive as possible Darkly romantic, gossamer to muscular crescendos. This album, often one song will run the course of human emotion. There are albums and artists that reasonable people may disagree, but this one is not. A singular talent. An unarguable masterpiece. Fight me. Her piano playing is almost as great as her singing. Although it’s kind of silly to say, because they are one beautiful thing together. People often are their own best accompaniests for obvious reasons. Hendrix for example

3.5 This came out when I was in a band, and very much making the scene. Which is appropriate because the bands of this time were very much scene bands. Debauched Indie primitivism, like a less rootsy white stripes. The amps sound explosive, and the buzz saw riffs serve their purpose if break no new ground. Perhaps the most innovative thing from the guitars is the rhythmic use of harmonics. A lot of cross pollenation between these guys the strokes interpol and white stripes. Although I suspect that the white stripes were more copied than copiers. Karen o has a direct edgy, delivery. Not a lot of tenderness or range. In maps we get as close to that as she gets. But that’s ok, the bluster and the cocky swagger is kind of what we’re here for. A bit different in that the dumb bluster and raw sexuality is being delivered by a front woman rather than man. Cool?

One of those albums I could almost listen to from my brain. I have listened that many times. The howling opening riff was always something to aspire to as a guitar player. I listened to this when it first came out, but it became more influential to me in the 2000s, as I was finding my way forward in my own music. His use of whammy continues to be deeply influential to me. A feast of wobbles, more of a heroin shot and bong rip than an lsd trip. A visionary work. Definitely feels like a coherent statement chasing an incoherent feeling. Mixing distortion with melodicism. And som simple jazzy progressions with zero of jazz,s showy vertuousity. Clancy but never grating. Everything buried beneath effected layers. Like a portrait under water. What album sounded like this before this. Nothing I believe.

Never knew nothing about this before listening. Not the era not any songs no nothing. I maybe knew that Nas was a rapper. That’s it. And I’m tripping. It had interesting jazzy samples. No doubt someone who knows more about rap could dig into this deeper, but upon first listen, I cannot.

What is this? Chamber indie? Baroque pop? Anyway, this album has some of the most annoying vocals ever. Jumping notes and climbing and descending scales at will, the lead singer is grating and has no real sense of melody. This album is also very ungroovy, which can be ok I guess, but here it is just a bit unpleasant to listen to. The beat will slow down or speed up suddenly in ways that may surprise but don’t really serve the song. There are obviously some talented musicians involved, but it’s nothing I would willingly listen to again. Oh, and I hate the particular strain of dry electric guitar tone and scribbling lines. Unpleasant. Serious theater kid energy. I’m tempted to rate this lower, but I can see why it probably hit at the time

a fantastic album to lose one’s mind to. Demented . One sees how Primus (certainly), Ween, and the Butthole Surfers would not have existed without The Residents. Creepy storytelling, strange moods, twisted humor. The synths are lightly detuned, lending an eerie air to the proceedings. Vocals are sped up or slowed down to enhance the unreal affect. 3 minute songs make this thing go down easier than it otherwise might. Muffled drums in the background, mixed in such a way that one questions whether they are drums at all. I guess this could go for many instruments on this album. Guitars are barely guitars, basses barely basses. I’m sure this helped usher out the peace and love drug era and help enhance the vast, weird, disturbing promise that lurked in LSD all along.

It starts with a paean to gender hierarchy and partrarchy Stronger Than me where she chides a weaker man who she demeans as gay and a ladyboy. I do think that I’d she’d live she would see this differently. Throughout the album there does seem to be internalized misogyny, most obviously on Fuck Me Pumps where she ruthlessly demeans gold diggers. I think there’s a lot of obvious pain and self loathing here. I think although there are several nods to hip hop and r & b, this is essentially a conservative album pulled nearly directly from the American Songbook. The twist is in the direct, personal, sexual, and emotional rawness in the lyrics. The music itself is indebted to figures of the past such as Billie holiday and Sarah Vaughn. Her delivery is direct and authentic. Technique never gets in the way. She was obviously a very great vocal talent. It would have been interesting to see her develop. Alas.

A fun exuberant album with sixties pop flourishes, and nineties aggression. Clangy overdriven Beatles/Kinks chords. Bowie glam. Lightly Distorted Vocals not mixed for clarity. Throw this on at a party and get the energy pumping. This one feels like it would be comfortable sitting in a six cd changer for six months to a year

Bauhaus really kicked off one of my most favorite genres of music—goth rock—so a lot of points for that. I haven’t listened to an entire bauhaus album all the way through before this one. I am well acquainted with Bella Legosi’s Dead, and this album stylistically adheres close to that formula—no real changes, sparse, creepy effects, evocative, strangled vocals, a general atmosphere of dread. Good shit! It always fascinates me how much of the post punk stuff was directly influenced by dub reggae, as reggae has kind of spun off into its own kind of dead-end, backwards-looking genre, while post punk keeps roaring along. The sound effects and bass lines were cribbed from dub. The relative few changes (often none) probably taken from dub. I’m just going to assume that massive amounts of ganja was smoked in studio. Which might not be the vision one has of goth rock, but I find it to be one of the sneakiest most psychedelic genres. Love and light was associated with hippie psychedelia, but there were darker, and sometimes, more true alleyways to be explored, as many people who had bad/deeply strange trips can attest to. It’s sort of the way the word “dream” has been associated with lovely things, when dreams, more often than not are alien, weird and terrifying.

There might be an album out there to change my opinion on REM (pretty ok, I guess) but this isn’t the one. In the end it’s just a little bland for me. Jangly folk indie rock. Obscure oblique lyrics were very influential to the indie artists of the 90 to the current day. The National Radiohead have cited stipes approach.. The lyrics are the worst when they slide into direct earnestness, which they do quite a bit on this one. No matter how lush the orchestration no one wonders if the songs began with cowboy chords on an acoustic guitar earnest vocal delivery

Tremendous, interesting chord progression of La La for You. Deeply, perfectly funky So You’re Leaving.subtle arpeggiated guitar parts. Gently flicked chords. Lovely beds of organs. Green’s voice is front and center, as is right.

3.5 Kind of dreading this one. I actually listened to Blue Lines by Massive Attack before this one, so should be interesting as they kind of come out of similar ideas. Ok, I'm actually shocked at how much I enjoyed this, as I always found Moby to be annoying as a person. But, man, this album sounds really good on headphones. I'm sure there's some issues with the use of samples from POC spirituals and songs in general, but who care? They are used to really good effect and sound much better than whoever, i assume it's Moby, is singing. I don't know if I'll be saving this one to my library, but I gotta hand it to the little bald creep--this sounds pretty damn good. It does have a fully realized, effective vision, not overly intellectualized. Of course there are the of-its-time ubiquitous record scratching effects that I could do without or much less of, but whatchoo gonna do. The repetitions and loops do create hypnotic effects. The tossed off and improvised become solid and composed through repetition. The breakbeats aren't groundbreaking, but within the chill, reverbed piano lines and rootsy samples, serve the songs well. I'm shocked.

Great album. Definitely one of those in-the-room recordings, no doubt because it was. Ry Cooder's purist, naturalistic fingerprints are all over this one. I think presenting these "folk" or "world" artists in these stripped down studio environs could possibly imply a subtle, rarely addressed racism. Or at least classicism. But who knows.

This one is hard, because I've listened to it so much in my life, and especially in a very important and extreme period, and there's just no extricating from that. I'm not even going to try. The first song La Femme D Argent, well, if every song were as strong as this one, this would be an easy five. Just a fantastic, chill, composition with one of the best basslines out there. Unfortunately some of the other songs feature soul-lite singer, who, while not bad, nudge this one out of the realms of perfection. Still, one of the most important albums of my life.

The music is spooky, eerie and atmospheric. The samples are often from science fiction, horror, or porn. This is one of the most scatological, anal-obsessed album I've heard to date. Poo poo, rectum, and the like are oft-used terms. This is strange. I like it?? The music I very much like. The lyrics, man I don't know. It's like a filthy, sexist, (homophobic?) B-movie. Which is sometimes good? I don't know, this is an interesting album unlike anything else I've ever heard.

No idea what this is. Ahh, punk, as most would come to know it. Plenty of power chorded youthful energy, with the occasional minor barre thrown in for mood and menace. Glammy, theatrical vocals, clever word play. Still, not reaaally my cup o tea. A bit one note and simple unmagical as I find most punk

3.5. Might be higher. Might be lower. This one I need to listen to again. I was a huge fan of Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, so this should be a slam dunk for me. But wasn't. Of course, I was listening to that album around when it came out, and maybe just the slacker 90s ethics spoke directly to me at the time. Everything kind of tossed off, sloppy, cool for its lack of care. I'm a different person now though. Anyway, this album is D\deliberately offkilter, imprecise tunings. Non genred songs. Two chord strummers where, due to the odd tuning, the guitar player has no idea what two chords they are. There are hints of shoegaze in a couple of songs, but this feels mostly original. This album does not feel overburdened by its own ambition. Effortless singing and playing in not the traditional sense of "effortless". So yes, I think I like it, in an opposite-of-dream-theater kind of way. But maybe I will like it more on repeated listens. I seem to remember that I had this album, but it never grabbed me. I feel like its reputation is that of the best Pavement album. Not to me. Not yet

This one is 3, maybe heading to 4 upon repeated listenings. This album is very funky, although it's missing a key component of funk–some looseness of wrist. This shit is tight, often over-caffeinated (over-coked?) highly BPMed, and right on the fucking beat. That said, it is a very quirky, unique-sounding work, with repetitive, droney (mostly in the funk way) soundscapes, and David Byrne's alien observing human lyrics and delivery. I could talk myself into four stars for this one, but I don't know if I'll be saving this for repeated listenings, which is generally my bar for four.

This album is appropriate, following Remain in Light. Great album, wish I could write more. Still sounds fresh. Playful, sonically adventurous. Absurdist lyrics, warm embracing production. Guitars are beyond inspiring

3.5 Ahch. Rating these things is usually so difficult given that you can't give half stars. This one is close to a 4 for me, the sustained vibe is immaculate. Just chill as fuck. The loops the synths, everything layering nicely, gently. Laid back. I'm sure this is a lovely album on X. What knocks it down for me is the very 90s england lyrics around rasta-lite one love-ism. I think had the album closed a little stronger it would have been a four for me. But I can't quite bring myself to add this one to my library.

3.5 Wonderful melodic tunes. The pent up creativity can be felt. Unleashed in a colorful, tuneful slide guitar lines and well-micced acoustics. Still, most songs hew pretty closely to pop structures and I would have liked to hear more experimentation, although the three disc album does get there at times, notably with Out of the Blue. But yeah, overall a great album. However whe you put two versions of the same song on an album… well, come on now. Love the descending chord moves that the Beatles loved so dearly in their later years ala While My Guitar Gently Weeps, and they are all over this one. Close to a four, but I don’t know if I’ll be adding it to my library

3.5 This is one of those bands with a handful of chord progressions, but they have good ones. Phil Spector's influence is all over this thing, especially in the booming trademark intro drums. Transmutating 60s bubblegum into black licorice. The singer's languid baritone exudes cool partially due to its resignation. There is numb pain here. It’s a dim light in the fog. This one doesn't have the razorblade guitars of Psychocandy. More pallatable, less harsh.

Wasn't so sure when I started on this one, the first few songs sounded a bit glam and theatrical for my taste, but as the album progressed, the experimental sides began to reveal and I liked it more and more. Bryan Ferry's theatricality also grew on me as it was surrounded by braver and braver instrumentation. I give up, I really like this one

6.5/10 I was a huge Jane's Addiction fan when i was 19. But we'll get to Nothing's Shocking later, I would imagine. This is a band that is trying to take a big swing. Does it work? Mostly. While the first half of the album sticks mainly to what worked for them before, with strong, fast heavy songs designed for the mosh pit, the second half of the album definitely cribs from the more ambitious Led Zepplin songs. Long, many changes, pomposity, grandiousity, it's here at in Three Days and Then She Did. Those songs pretty much hit the mark they're aiming for. The drugs are working. Unfortunately the last two songs are limp and drained (Of Course and Classic Girl). The drugs fail them. This is an album that fail to cohere as a whole, and whose parts just don't quite all work. Steve Avery rules though. He caries and propels the last parts of Three Days on his very able back. No wonder this was the last thing of note JA ever did. In fact, I think Eric was a key part and when he left, the magic was gone.

Sure there are many, "we are having a blast doing drugs in the studio", but this one stands out as one of the best. Wild, inventive effects and long arrangements or non-arrangements. But when this thing gets down to business, man, it gets the fuck down. Needless to say, this is a super-funky album. But the party goes beyond dancing and into more cerebral spaces. But a lot of pocket playing on this.

7/10 Is there an album from the 70s that sounded more 80s than this one? Which only shows how influential this album and their aesthetic was to prevail in the coming decade. This, however, has none of the pop pithiness that would go along to define the eighties. Not afraid to hang around with fairly redundant, hypnotic synth pads and melodies for long stretches of time, with occasional unemotional singing over it, this really is one of those albums born out of theory and the brain rather than the heart. Which is cool. Devo would play to these same experimental, thematic figures, but with tighter songs.

Doves came along amidst what I would call a post-Radiohead and, to a lesser extent, post-britpop wave that included bands like Elbow and Coldplay. They were in a group that was exploring softer, less-stereotypically masculine approaches to rock. Now I was deeply enraptured with some of this stuff, and Doves in particular. I was in a band and in some ways Doves represented what I then saw as a high water mark. So of course, it's impossible to impartially (if there is even such a thing) judge this album. It's too entrenched in me. This is a beautiful sounding album, full of soundscapes pulled from all over. Strings, latin percussion, sound effects, the kitchen sink, all lovelingly woven together. This is a studio album and was perhaps the opposite to a lot of "back to the garage" stuff that was going on at the same time (hives, strokes, white stripes etc. etc. etc.) The songs are ambitiously written, with an ear towards emotionality rather than the intellectual approach of prog rock. I love the singing, and the guitars come in and out tastefully. New York is a miss for me lyrically, although pretty great musically. I think it must of been inspired in that immediate post 9/11 era that sometimes gave over into maudlin sentiments such as "we're all better off in New York". Sure, Jimi. Anyway, this album is full of lush melancholy and bittersweetness and care and ambitious cinematic orchestrations. I never quite understood why Coldplay was allowed to sell out and Doves never did. But I'm glad they didn't.

7/10 This one is hard to rate because it was the one Beatles album that my parents owned. Even as a child I could feel the "sixties-ness" of songs like The Word. I liked this Beatles album, but it was never my favorite. I get that this is when they began morphing into the psychedelic band that they would become, but this one feels like it has a foot in both worlds and doesn't quite surpass the version they were before or the version they would become. Really noticed how great Paul's bass playing is on this listen.

7/10 BB was never my favorite of that generation of blues players, mainly because his guitar playing sounded a bit thin, and he didn't dig in to notes quite the way Albert King or Collins would do. But man, this is a very good live album. His singing really hits the spot. The raw emotionality is moving and convincing. The stage patter is so professional, you can just feel how long he's been doing this thing. The album is tight and without a wasted moment. Probably my favorite BB King album so far.

If this album doesn't make you want to pull a rail of the dirtiest coke/meth you can find in the worst part of England, I don't know what's wrong with you. I'm gonna give this one 5 stars, because for it is the platonic ideal of what it is. There's no making an album more this than this--if that makes sense. It feels like the future in which the worst has happened. So it seems like we're all on track to living in a Prodigy soundtrack. This from start to stop relentlessly executes its near singular visual. But, for real this fucks. It kicks all kind of ass. Breakbreaks, disgusting synths, high BPM, thrusting, violent dance songs. It feels like an album to fuck or to kill to. Maybe both. Heaven help us.

8/10 Oh what one can do with mono. What can one say, this is kind of the pinnacle for the soul genre. Otis digs in and delivers with emotional singing over mid tempo arpeggiations with horns supporting and energizing the whole thing.

8.0 First all, is Tom Waits doing black face? Nevermind. Anyway this live album is certainly a mood. Literary in the from the gutter, bukowski drunk, ways. He spins long vivid scenes and metaphors and lines and routines that call to mind nothing less than a high minded comedy routine over an ambling, tinkling jazz soundtrack replete with the occasional toss off scatted line.This is an urban album (what ever the opposite of pastoral would be) that feels like it's romanticing a lost LA of a distant-but not too distant past, and Tom Waits portrays the down and out jazzman pinballing through late night scenes to morning regrets and cycling on an on. Its a schtick, but a pretty good one and the late night, gin soaked, gutter-poetic mood is here from the start to the end.

7.0 This one surprised me a little bit. I really kind of liked this one. Very 80s, and could have been just another forgettable timepiece, but what makes this album shine and makes it worth revisiting is Lauper herself, who squeaks and yawps with abundant personality and gleeful. It has it's weak moments, strangely the first song falls into this category, but on the whole this a solid album, and I may even listen to it again someday. high praise indeed!

7.0 Nilsson really shows his ability to write catchy and sometimes moving tunes. One can see why he was so heavily covered. Unfortunately, for me at least, he is also able to render catchy-as-fuck but annoying-as-fuck ear worms. The mean mr mustard syncopations are all over this, but the writing is often wry and sincere at the same time. It really is a broad mix in this album. Ballads, expansive rock, you name it.

6.5 Are these lo fi beats? Is this what I missed? Anyway, twigs sounds like she's edging for half the album. A very horny album. Albums designed especially for horny teens is nothing new, but this iteration is definitely different. Beats, but not really danceable. Filtered synth soundscapes, beeps and bloops, stops and starts. Interesting stuff. Experimental even. Feels gently futuristic. Probably a lot of sex with drugs involved have occurred to this album. Would not be surprised if this was the construction of a savvy producer, rather than the vision of twigs herself. But I haven't looked into it

2.5/10 The original purateens. I was here, in punk clubs and this shit just never grabbed me. This could be fun in a live, sweaty punk club, but it doesn’t need to be an album. Is there anything more annoying than being scolded by a know it all teen? No.

8/10 Fairytale music? Lit major songs? Ren Faire chamber pop? Music that tries to imagine a world where Bach never happened? I can see one medieval studies major saying "Finally! Someone is making music that caters to my exact tastes!" Sometimes she sings with hints of Bjork and Billie Holiday. Anyway, this is highly original, impeccably crafted, and maybe a little annoying-cutesy? She wields her significant vocabulary in a way that mostly isn't offputting. I think the word "twee" was thrown about indiscriminately regarding stuff like this. But this is too good for the label. Regardless, I like it very much, it's pretty awesome and who am I to judge music this much of itself? I am no one. I am overawed by its creator.

7.5/10 This is Muddy Waters live, and it delivers. It feels like a band that never has a bad night. Like can't have a bad night just how much they know what they are doing. Muddy Water's singing is just so, I don't know, "on". Like I can't imagine him ever singing a bum note, because it doesn't sound like he's every reaching for anything other than what comes to him at the moment. I'm not rating this one higher because of the repeats. It's just not good for an "album" experience for me

1.0 Look, there’s some good guitar, bass and drumming on this album, but Anthony Keidis brings everything down to 1. He sucks such ass. Just creepy, hair sniffing, shitty singer. Hate him.

These songs are works of art. They go deep. They often have unconventional, exploratory structures but always feel pure of intention. From the heart and the head, but much more towards the heart. The sax playing is very melodic and soulful. Beautiful stuff

6/10 A mixed bag, mostly bad. The attempts at pop and more excruciatingly, blues, are mediocre at best. HOWEVER, the two vibey, definitively psychedelic songs , Light My Fire and, especially, The End are great and where this all comes together. The half baked poetry works so well in the end, who cares if he was play acting being a shaman? If one acts hard enough one will occasionally become that thing, inhabit it. The End also shows kriger to be a real progenitor of raga-inflected psych guitar. People are still mining this vein. But it can’t be overstated how the absolute pillar of this band is the organist Manzurich. To myself the circus organ lines of Light My Fire were a definitive sound of the 60s. I doubt that this band could have made it nearly anywhere without him holding it all down.

8/10 If you asked me if I liked u2 before this, I would have told you “mostly no”, but c”mon, this album slaps. It’s atmospheric and rocking, things that don’t so often go together outside of shoegaze. Bono, though, annoying lyrically, shout-sings with passion, and The Edge, though in no ways flashy, has quite a distinctive right hand. This album is a bit punky new wave, which is really perhaps their sweet spot. But haven’t listened to a lot of them before.

3/10 The Dylan for Coke Addicted Scenesters. James Murphy, has production talents for sure. He even puts on a good, high energy show (or used to). But the lyrics, the singing, and the emotion are all missing critical components. These songs all sort of hit one sort of vibe and stay stubbornly put. Sometime that vibe works, mostly. The lyrics are the puddle-shallow concerns of a a stereotypical hipster. James' vocals are limited, uninteresting, and don't convey much. This is an energetic album, but gets that from its BPMs rather than from any sort of emotional lift. The synths I'm certain are all analog and properly vetted for whatever version of authenticity James feels he must hew toward to stay in the "In" crowd.

7/10 The themes of this album are like if a 13 year old norwegian teen only listened to the fantasy/nordic songs of Led Zepplin and cranked those up to 10. So, yes, a cartoon. A pulpy, garish cartoon of raiders and raided, vanquishers and vanquished. But so sincere in its love of such things, that this becomes something of a campy masterpiece. The musicianship is very good and has wonderful arpeggiated solo bits that stand on their own. This album ROCKS, but isn't terribly deep.

6.5/10 This one was a baffler. It starts out with a song that sounds like it could have been the opening for a late 90s sitcom. Poppy grunge. But then it gets weirder, more slippery in style. This album sounds like it was made by a 75% less talented Brian May and Freddy Mercury. Which is to say the singer and the guitar player are very talented indeed. The lyrics are earnestly political and the clear tone of the singers voice is set at odds against the tougher guitars. It's almost proggy at points, but still feels like it can't quite be all it can because of the gravity of the late nineties. I don't know if I like it, but it did confuse me a bit. Which, bravo!

6/10 Morrissey, not a lovable figure as of late, but arch and witty with razor sharp claws. I don’t know if this is his best, but it was likeable enough

8/10It's impossible to extract history from the current experience, but let's just say that I mowed a lot of lawns to this album in middle school. And I really loved it. And haven't listened to it since. But, man, this, as far as I can tell, holds up and is a slamming album. Every song is at least good, and every other song is at least very very good. Great synths, compressed guitars, dramatic squelched vocals, slippery basslines, and a good dash of 80s horniness. I added this to my library.

8/10 A lullabye for death. This is one long reverbed-flanged-tremolo-ed out sigh. The singing barely rises beyond a mutter, the guitars strum on a couple of chords (usually fifths) and gentle sounds wash in and out. He took Velvet Underground songs and took them in an even dronier direction. There isn't the frisson of john cale's screeching viola or the building tension of guitars. There are peaks but they get there languidly and never get too clamorous. This is an album of resignation and oblivion. It feels rather lovely.

8/10 A lovely sounding album. It’s nearly perfectly laid back, nary a rushed beat to be heard. It, is of course, wholly unoriginal in content if not content. A pedal steel sings bittersweetly over a bed of gently strummed guitars—making a convincing argument that that instrument is the best result from ever having plugged in any guitar in the first place. This album is perfect for something… a lazy day by the river, perhaps. This one came as a surprise as I thought the Byrds were purely a twelve string psychedelic act. This one is pure, near-edgeless country, recorded with pristine care

Good 90s metal

I enjoyed this a jammy vibe. Nothing super crazy, but just a nice hang in a jam session with pros who are vibing rather than flexing