1001 Albums Summary

Somebody Loves Me is corny. The bass in Thinking of You is impressive. He’s the Greatest Dancer is still amazing, even if I can’t help but hear Getting Jiggy Wit It in my head when it plays. Only got through side 1.

Production and guitar by Todd Rundgren. Forgotten about that. Always thought the popular songs sounded a lot like Springsteen. Didn’t realize Roy Bittan and Max Weinberg played on it. No wonder. Enjoyed the first two songs. Then Heaven Can Wait killed the momentum with its sappiness. And the saxophone and backing vocals on All Revved Up were kinda grating. Side Two kicks off with Two Out of Three. Mediocre. Then comes Paradise by the Dashboard Light, which I’ve long had a soft spot for. In fact, I’m beginning to see that I like the two rock opera type songs on this record the best. And then it gets maudlin again for the final song. At least for the first three minutes or so. When it breaks out it ain’t so bad. In summary, Meat Loaf can sing. I like his voice. But he’s only as good as the material. And honestly, I liked this album more than I ever would’ve guessed.

I thought the documentary of the same name came out first, then this album. That this was essentially a soundtrack. Wikipedia says I’m wrong. The album came out two years prior to the movie. Strange. It’s weird to think how ubiquitous this CD was. I think every educated white liberal of the intelligentsia owned a copy— proof of which can now be found in thrift stores across America. It’s like a new generation’s version of Herb Alpert or Martin Denny, or maybe more appropriately Getz/Gilberto’s Girl from Ipanema. Ibrahim Ferrer even got to be on a Gorillaz’s album, for crying out loud. (On a darn good song, too, I might add.) I guess this phenomenon wasn’t solely focused on Buena Vista Social Club. There was quite a lot of interest in World Music genre in the late ‘90s. David Byrne, Ry Cooder, Paul Simon, Damon Albarn, Beck, and more were touring with/producing/releasing albums by/heavily influenced by/featuring world music artists. You can make of that what you will. I saw the documentary as a high schooler with my hero/quasi-mentor Walter, a middle-aged librarian and movie buff, at my favorite movie theater back in Jersey, a grimy, rundown place that somehow stayed in business charging only 3.99 for a ticket and free popcorn with unlimited refills. (One night a week you could also get unlimited pizza for only $1 more.) I enjoyed the film. Walter thought Wim Wenders did the musicians an injustice by cutting away during songs and not letting the audience hear any (or very few) songs in their entirety. I hadn’t picked up on this, which made me admire Walter even more. Don’t know whatever happened to Walter. He had profound low stakes influence on my life. He didn’t want to be a manager or library director. He just wanted to do his job and go home and watch movies. He would buy bags of used VHS from the rental places and lent me a ton of movies I wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Thanks, Walter, wherever you are. My copy of the CD hasn’t made it to the thrift store. It sits on the shelf, though I can’t remember the last time I’d listened to it before today. It’s still very good. Ferrer is my favorite singer of the group. I have a solo album by him too, and it’s also really good.

This album and El Camino will always hold a special place in my heart because they were my oldest son’s favorite albums when he was a toddler. Consequently, I’ve listened to both of them— though, to be honest, El Camino got the most rotations, by far— front front to back many, many times. More than many albums that are objectively better. Oh well. They’re both fun albums. And they rock. No shame in that. I have friends that love the early Black Keys albums and think the band had sold out by this point. I say if ever a band benefited from selling out, it was the Black Keys. I don’t care for the white dudes playing the blues vibes I got from the early stuff, not that I’ve given it much of a chance; too reminiscent of Blueshammer for me. But this is much less self-serious. Or maybe that’s the marketing— the clever album cover and the entertaining music videos. Either way, it’s just fun.

Day 5 (I think), and the first album we’ve gotten that I don’t own in one form or another. (Yes, I own a Meat Loaf album. I have hoarding issues.) Also the first one I’ve never listened to before, even though it seems like an album I should have and like. A lot critics and bands I like are Thin Lizzy fans. Out of the five or six albums we’ve been assigned here, one would guess that Meat Load would’ve been the album I’ve never heard (though truthfully I’d never listened to entire thing before). Some might even think the Pointer Sisters, but only those who were unaware of my soft spot for disco. I’ve listened to some album cuts from Thin Lizzy, but never gotten into them enough to make it through a full album. Which leads me to the album itself. I don’t have much to say. It didn’t really do it for me. I skipped through sections of songs just to get to the guitar solos. I liked the several hits I already knew. The band sounds good. I think it’s just that the songs weren’t catchy enough for me. And I just didn’t respond to the lead vocals with much feeling. I can see the appeal but I fell asleep before I got to the end. Maybe I’ll give it another try down the road.

Day 5 (I think), and the first album we’ve gotten that I don’t own in one form or another. (Yes, I own a Meat Loaf album. I have hoarding issues.) Also the first one I’ve never listened to before, even though it seems like an album I should have and like. A lot critics and bands I like are Thin Lizzy fans. Out of the five or six albums we’ve been assigned here, one would guess that Meat Load would’ve been the album I’ve never heard (though truthfully I’d never listened to entire thing before). Some might even think the Pointer Sisters, but only those who were unaware of my soft spot for disco. I’ve listened to some album cuts from Thin Lizzy, but never gotten into them enough to make it through a full album. Which leads me to the album itself. I don’t have much to say. It didn’t really do it for me. I skipped through sections of songs just to get to the guitar solos. I liked the several hits I already knew. The band sounds good. I think it’s just that the songs weren’t catchy enough for me. And I just didn’t respond to the lead vocals with much feeling. I can see the appeal but I fell asleep before I got to the end. Maybe I’ll give it another try down the road.

For a long time I’ve wanted to like this band much more than I actually do. They’re a couple songs on their album before this one that I like. Wasn’t getting into this one all that much.

I’ve never understood how so many people worship Bob Marley. I like him enough but they’re are a bunch of other Jamaican reggae/ska artists I like a whole lot more.

Mixed in with the Helen Reddy, Anne Murray, and Barry Manilow albums in my parent’s record collection were a few gems that made a huge impact on me as a kid. One was box set of Motown hits and another was Stevie Wonder’s Talking Book, from which I would play Superstition over and over. In high school I scored multiple Wonder albums— this one, Innervisions, and Fulfillingness’ First Finale (the ones with similar cover art)— in one lucky purchase. Sadly, I can’t say I’ve listened to this one much since then. It’s 7 a.m. on work day and I’m in the basement with it on now. One of the nice things about this music group is that it’s forcing me to listen to things that have been sitting on my shelf for a long time. Things I’ve wanted to hear again but haven’t made the time for. (Not to say I own every album here. There have already been several I haven’t heard or heard of.) It’s also nice to force myself to write— something I haven’t done regularly for years. This is becoming a music diary. Rambling musings I’m sure no one else wants to read. Anyway, I pulled out my vintage copy— it’s got the 24-page booklet advertised on the front cover; the completist in me is frustrated that it’s missing the bonus 7 inch with the extra tracks. Oh well. Some of these songs are familiar once they come on. Some of them I don’t ever recall hearing. Stevie really runs the gamut of styles on this— funk, r&b, prog, experimental soundscapes. I’d forgotten how good it is.

Like a lot of high schoolers in the ‘90s, I listened to the Eagles. It’s weird to think about some of the old bands whose careers were given new life during that time. The Beatles were unsurprisingly back in vogue because of the Beatles Anthology, but who would’ve guessed that Aerosmith would be churning out hits, or that Billy Joel would be cool again thanks to River of Dreams, or that hell would freeze over and the Eagles would return? Weird times. And also like a lot of record collectors my age, I started buying albums in the ‘90s because they were much cheaper than CDs. (Plus the covers are so much cooler.) You could find records for a quarter at yard sales and for a buck or two at thrift stores; if you were lucky you might even get a bunch for free from an older relative who had upgraded to CD or just didn’t care that much about music anymore. Can’t remember if I bought this one or got it from my aunt’s collection, but I listened to Hotel California a lot in the late ‘90s. I loooooved the melody and guitar solos on the title track. I’m almost embarrassed to admit I also thought Life in the Fast Lane was a cool song. I wrote the above before actually listening to the record again, and it’s funny how much my memory differs from reality. First, I thought I’d listened to this entire album a whole lot, but that must not have been the case because I only recognized a handful of songs. I must’ve only listened to my favorite tracks and skipped the rest. Second, I could’ve sworn this album rocked a lot more heavily than it does. I remember attributing this to the addition of Joe Walsh, who I had thought gave the band a much edgier sound than their peaceful easy feelin’ early days. This isn’t really the case. It’s about half rockers and half classic Eagles MOR. A lot of the songs aren’t all that memorable. Even New Kid in Town, the only other song title I recognized, isn’t all that great. Nothing on Side 2 jumped out until the closing track, Last Resort. Finally another song I remember listening to a lot. I still really like it, even if it’s a bit schmaltzy. (Was that a key change? I think so? Nice falsetto at the end there, Don.) Also, Don Henley was the drummer. How did I not remember that?

At least it was short… I owned the Complete Discography disc at one point. Could’ve sworn I still had it, but I probably traded it in because I couldn’t get into it and never listened to it. I like Fugazi and even some Rites of Spring. I think I don’t much care for Ian McKaye’s voice. I can handle it in Fugazi; he doesn’t scream as much, plus he shares lead with vocals with Picciotto, so it balances out a little. I think it also helps Picciotto shares songwriting duty too. I’m no expert, but I’d say he keeps them from making every song into anti-capitalist screed. There’s only so many times you want to hear the Communist Manifesto set to music. Also, I can’t take the jackhammer rhythms of most hardcore. There comes a point where playing fast becomes almost meaningless because everything blurs together into pounding noise. I like the few songs here where things slow down some. There are a few monster riffs here and there that are cool. Otherwise, this really isn’t my thing at all.

This is the only Smashing Pumpkins album I own (not counting a burned copy of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness), and I don’t think I’ve ever listened to the whole thing before. Smashing Pumpkins has always been a singles band for me— I’d say about five of their singles were favorites of mine back in the ‘90s— mainly because I can’t put up with Billy Corgan’s whiny vampire vocals for sustained periods. He’s best taken in three minute doses. I think his image was also a turnoff for me. He seems like a pompous ass. That his band mates all seemed to hate him doesn’t help. (I laughed while reading the liner notes a minute ago; the acknowledgements start off with ‘the smashing pumpkins, in a rare showing of unity, wish to collectively thank the following…’) Over the years I’ve listened to them less frequently. The teenage angst isn’t as appealing these days. Listening to it now, I have to admit this record sounds really good. Even on songs I don’t particularly like all that much the guitars soar, the bass bumps, and the drums power the whole thing. ‘Today’ is still my favorite song on here. It floods me with memories of teenage depression and overpowering emotions. I remember playing the opening riff on my electric guitar and thinking I was so cool. Overall, I think it’s a good album but not one I’m ever going to give heavy rotation. I’ll probably continue to listen to my favorite handful of songs and skip the rest.

This is the first album we’ve been assigned that I unequivocally love.

My cool uncle, who introduced me to a lot of great music, played me The Smiths in the mid ‘90s and I thought it was the worst thing ever. I didn’t understand how anyone could like Morrissey’s voice and thought the band sounded way too ‘80s, at a time when that was an insult. Keep in mind, most of my favorite bands at the time had rejected everything from the previous decade and were fronted by cynical, aloof, angry, masculine heterosexual dudes who mumbled or growled. And they loved distortion. The Smiths were jangly and used reverb. Morrisey was camp, theatrical, a romantic, earnest, literate, seemingly humorless, and perhaps most damning of all effeminate, possibly even— gasp— gay. He actually crooned and used proper diction. It could’ve been music from another planet as far as I was concerned. It didn’t take long for me to tell my uncle to turn it off. This was clearly not a band for me. Years later I returned to The Smiths with a more open mind and discovered I actually liked them a lot. This was the album that first got me into them. I finally understood Morrissey’s sardonic wit and doomed romanticism. Some of the music still sounded a little dated to me, but I could appreciate Marr’s guitar mastery and the unsung rhythm section of Joyce and Rourke. I even came to like Morrissey’s unique voice, though it’s his lyrics that will always be the band’s greatest strength. So many quotable lines. I don’t think The Smiths ever made a perfect album. This one has a few not quite great songs on it, but the highlights are so good that I’m giving it a five anyway.

I can understand why this album would be celebrated. Sarah Vaughan has an accomplished voice. It was nice mood music. I can imagine playing it in the background over a candlelight dinner with a lover. But it’s not my thing.

Robert, you couldn’t find 1,001 albums better than this? Surely you weren’t trying very hard. Couldn’t you have just tossed on Bowie’s tenth best album if you were having a hard time meeting your quota?

By gad, verily. It has ephemeral whinging aspects. I got hit with a wave of nostalgia when I pulled this CD off my shelf, not because I remembered or even liked any of the music, but because the call letters for my college’s radio station were written in sharpie on the insert and disc. It hit me that I’d bought this at a sale the station had held one weekend in somebody’s garage at a house off campus. It was one of those sales that still haunt me— it only I wasn’t a broke college student I would’ve made out like a bandit. As it was I spent the $10 or so that I had and came home with this and pile of other choice 90s/early ‘00s indie rock and odd assortments. Some of the other discs I’ve actually listened to in the time since. Not this one. Probably played it once or twice when I got it over 15 years ago. Been collecting dust since. I’m pretty sure I got in the first place because it was on a pitchfork list of best albums of the ‘90s. Can’t remember if I already had other Fall albums at the time. Maybe Perverted by Language and/or This Nation’s Saving Grace, both of which I like more, though I can’t say I’ve listened to them all that much either. I can’t remember if I also knew that Pavement were big Fall fans. Maybe I did and that influenced the purchase as well. Anyway, I liked this album this time through more than I remembered or expected to. There are a couple songs that have been stuck in my head, and some lines that I found downright hilarious, including the ones quoted at the top of this review. Then there are moments, especially in the second half, where the music is very odd and it feels like someone left the tape running and Mark E. Smith rambled on unrehearsed about whatever popped into his head. There are bits that I can’t tell if I love or hate, like the cover of Chic’s Lost in Music, which sounds like someone drunkenly mumbling over the Rocky soundtrack. I honestly didn’t realize it was a cover at first— I thought they’d lifted portions from a disco song as some sort of post-modern statement, but that the rest was original material. And then there moments that remind me of my reaction to Tim and Eric bits— I felt like they were parody or supposed to be humorous but I felt like I was missing the joke. Is the joke it’s terrible on purpose? Like some of the ‘90s techno/industrial elements. My favorite songs hewed closer to the classic Fall post-punk sound, sometimes with little updates for the ‘90s. Anyway, I hated or was bored by half the material, but I actually really enjoyed about half of it. A mixed bag.

Still sounds really good. I don’t like the two songs with Beth Hirsch as much as I used to— her vocals give me strong ‘generic late ‘90s female guest singer’ vibes. I think I’d still like those two songs with a different lead singer. Someone with breathier vocals like Francoise Hardy, who sang on one of the b-sides of the Sexy Boy single. Anyway, Sexy Boy is still great. I’ve had it, along with Remember and Kelly Watch the Stars, stuck in my head on a loop for the past several days. Several of the instrumentals deserve mention as well, providing some of the strongest material on the album. I’m glad this still sounds good. I really liked Air’s material up through Talkie Walkie, after which there seemed to be a sharp decline in Air quality. I’d probably give this a 4.5. Some days I round up and some days I round down. I’m feeling generous today.

The hits on here (and they’re almost all hits) still get me excited, even after years of hearing them on classic rock radio. Another 4.5. Today I’m rounding down.

You’re probably better off listening to Elvis’s singles from the era rather than this album, but it’s still pretty good.

Look, I really like k.d. Lang’s voice. She’s an amazing singer and makes this album listenable despite its flaws. That said, the slick production grated on me at times, especially all the tracks with goddamn lame-ass bongos.

It’s probably not fair that I’m giving this the same rating as yesterday’s album— k.d. Lang’s Ingenue— but that’s the problem with the five star system. Lang would’ve gotten a 2.5 if we were giving out half stars, and Steely Dan would’ve gotten 3.5. But I rounded the former up and I’m rounding the latter down. I like Steely Dan, but I’m more partial to the earlier stuff.

This is a guilty pleasure of mine— it’s the only AC/DC album I own and the only one I’ll ever need— though a little goes a long way. AC/DC is a one trick pony, and it gets tiring hearing the same song over and over again for a full album. (The bass player could play the same single note in 4/4 time for the entirety of the album and it wouldn’t sound out of place.) And that’s not even getting into the questionable or problematic material. There’s a distinction between prudishness and lasciviousness, and AC/DC can switch sides. Sex is a lot of fun, I don’t think most people would argue that, and there’s nothing wrong writing about that. In fact, that’s what rock and roll is all about when you get down to it. However, when it turns into objectification, misogyny, and rapey-ness, and it often does, it becomes harder to justify. Lines like ‘don’t you struggle, don’t you fight’ take the enjoyment right out of it. Or when you talk about ‘given the dog a bone’ and it dehumanizes the other person, it just feels icky. Some may say all AC/DC is like that, and they may have a point. I still like Hell’s Bells, Back in Black, and You Shook Me All Night Long, though the other material makes them harder to enjoy as I get older.

I’m not a metalhead, so this isn’t really my comfort zone. What turns me off with most metal isn’t usually the music itself but the vocals— I don’t like screaming, yelling, and or even too much macho growling. Luckily, Rob Halford only does the latter one of those three, and he does enough actual singing that I was able to listen to the whole album. There were times when his voice got on my nerves a little, but not as much as standard metal vocals. As for the album itself, I was surprised to realize I was already familiar with two songs. I’ve liked Breaking the Law for a long time— it and You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’ are the two songs I readily identify as Judas Priest. What I didn’t realize was that Living After Midnight, which I’ve heard and enjoyed on the radio many times, was also them. Both are super catchy and have been stuck in my head for the past 24 hours. Some other things that stuck out— some nice drum fills and guitar riffs in the first few tracks and an amazing guitar solo in Grinder. On the downside, there were a few songs where the vocals began to annoy me a little, but the biggest turnoff for me was United, which seemed really corny and out of place for me. The version I listened to online had Red, White, and Blue tacked onto the end as a bonus track, which I didn’t realize until after, and I was just thinking ‘another hokey patriotic song? What’s with these guys?’ So maybe that colored my opinion too much. Maybe I’d have given this four stars if I’d listened to the true record and not a special edition.

I really liked one song. I would like the entire album a whole lot more if you removed the vocals (and therefore lyrics also) on almost every track, leaving just weird ambient noises and programmed loops. I actually liked that part of it. As is it almost sounds like Beach Boys harmonies over Aphex Twin, and I’m not sure that’s a winning combination. They warped and distorted the vocals on the one song I liked, which made it fit a little better with the music. Our Mutual Friend Mike introduced me to Animal Collective circa 2007ish? I say introduced because he told me I had to listen to them, though I’d already read about them on Pitchfork. I ripped copies of Feels and Sung Tongs and had them on my hard drive for a long time, during which I never listened to either in its entirety. The little bit I heard, plus the interviews and reviews, really made me hate them. And I still wanted to hate them. That I enjoyed this even a little goes against my moral fiber. They seemed like the worst type of pretentious, humorless modern hippie hipsters. Ugh. I’d like to take this moment to talk about Pitchfork. This album made me think about the site— I came to odd realization that I’ve been visiting almost daily for over twenty years, even though it’s not what it used to be. Now it’s much more professional and slicker due to its corporate overlords. It has wider appeal and is much more objective in its reviews, no longer ignoring wide swathes of music styles in favor of white boy indie rock. But in a way it has suffered for improving. It’s lost its personality. The funny thing is it was probably already past its heyday when I started reading it in the early 2000s. To me the most important thing I ever got from pitchfork was its original list of best albums of the ‘90s. That’s how I got obsessed with Pavement. More often than not I disagreed with their ratings and found their reviews either snotty or pretentious. Heck, I barely even read most of the reviews. In twenty years of visiting the site I can think of only a handful of articles or reviews that I loved for the writing. (Best of all, an article called Twee as Fuck. Look it up.) What I found most useful was their most divisive and mocked element in the early days— the ten point rating scale. Seeing their ratings and reading the two sentence blurb at the beginning of each review has allowed me to keep my finger on the pulse of modern music. This is not to say I never found music via the site. For every Animal Collective there was an Arcade Fire (who may now be lousy but whose first album was like a jolt of lightning). Back to Animal Collective: Two Stars.

If we’re interpreting the name of the book/list literally as albums you need to hear, in contrast to albums you need to know about because of their cultural significance, then Culture Club does not belong on this list. This album is boring as hell. It’s all watered down reggae and world music and gospel. It’s offensively bland. For someone who made such an impression with his image— I mean, I was really young so maybe I’m wrong here, but Boy George was an outlier in the cultural landscape at the time— the music is surprisingly nondescript. It sounds like something my mom would enjoy. I’ve heard Contemporary Christian Music artists who make edgier music than this.

One of the great mysteries of life is how an artist can stumble upon three minutes of transcendent perfection and never be able to produce anything that even remotely reaches such glorious heights ever again. Another Girl, Another Planet is such a great song. I played it twice in a row while going through this album. The rest of the album is serviceable, workmanlike power pop, though none of it is especially catchy or memorable. Years ago I bought a two-disc set that contains the first three albums plus singles after reading about The Only Ones in one of my favorite music books, Kim Cooper and David Smay’s Lost In the Grooves. I don’t know that I’ve ever listened to the whole set. I usually get to Another Girl, Another Planet and listen to it on repeat.

I like the rhythm section. In fact, the whole band sounds pretty good as a unit. I guess I just didn’t find many of the songs all that catchy. And I don’t think I care all that much for Chrissie Hynde’s vocals. It’s not a voice that grabs my attention.

The first side is hotter and more buttery. Really love the first two tracks. So cool. Side 2 is still good, but doesn’t hit me as hard.

As much as I ridiculed this at first, there are enough songs I liked that I can see myself returning to this multiple times and it growing on me with each listen. The guitar solos and interplay on songs like Zip City are excellent, and there were some clever lyrics once I got past the twangy delivery. The overarching theme is actually ambitious even if my initial impression was that the whole point was ‘there’s no confederate flag in the back of our pickup so we’re okay.’

It still boggles the mind that Gorillaz is Damon Alburn’s claim to fame in America (well, that and Song 2), and that what seems like a one-off side project would turn into a long running series of albums under the Gorillaz moniker. In 2001 my music buddy Jeremy and I bonded over this album— it hit that sweet spot in the middle where his hip hop interests and my indie rock obsession met. To him it was a new album produced by Automator (and even featured his Deltron 3030 collaborator on two tracks), and to me it was a new project by the guy from Blur. (Did we both already like Cibbo Matto at that point? I think so? That was another bonding point.) Anyway, as Jeremy convinced me that rap is awesome and provided me with an important education in hip hop, this album helped ease me into a world of discovery. Thank you, Gorillaz and Jeremy. These days we don’t see much of each other, but you made a big impact on my life and there will always be a special place for you in my heart.

Industrial lounge music?

Let’s start with this: I love Neil Young. I own a slew of his solo albums, archive releases, and records from bands he played in. He may be the most represented artist in my collection, excepting Bob Dylan. His creative output is probably second only to Dylan in terms of quantity of quality releases, and if the ‘60s belonged to Dylan then Neil’s decade was the ‘70s. Harvest is not my favorite album, even if it is really good. The two orchestral songs have always seemed out of place and keep it from five stars for me. Otherwise, I enjoy every song. My favorite Young works are his jams with Crazy Horse, so it follows that my favorite songs here are Albama and Words, though the loose, country twang of Heart of Gold, Harvest, and Old Man, etc. are a close second. Heart of Gold may be slightly corny and overplayed, but I still love it. The band gels— those harmonies, the loose (yes, I’m using that word again but I can’t think of a better descriptor) rhythm section, the pedal steel, the sound of the acoustic guitar, and the harmonica. It gets me every time. Out on the Weekend and Are You Ready for the Country are not as well known but they’re also standout tracks for me. I absolutely love Words as the closing track— the rhythm and especially the guitar work. The solo that starts off with the faintest tapping as if barely played and slowly builds to stabbing screeches is amazing. I have to end with this: my wife hates Neil Young. I think he’s great road trip music and she forbids me playing him in the car if she’s with me. And I get it, his nasally high pitched voice isn’t for everyone. She also doesn’t care much for anything that has even a hint of country to it, so that’s an added detractor for her. To each their own.

I’ve always wanted this to be a five star album for me. It’s got a such a mythic reputation, a great cover, and the first three tracks are such bangers. But there’s a long section in the middle where it always fails to hold my attention. My mind begins to wander and I can never remember what the tracks were when I think back on them. Sure, the last three or four tracks are strong closers, but that middle section drags me down. Some of it may be the sequencing, starting off with the heavy hitters and getting me all amped up before quickly dropping into it a series of long, moody pieces. (And then a series of short clips? Strange.) To me Entroducing is more a showcase for the breadth of DJ Shadow’s tremendous skill rather than a cohesive album. It’s astonishing on a technical level but it doesn’t always flow for me. And I could really use some rap on some of the tracks. (Which may be missing the point… oh well.) That said, the tracks I like are amazing. The way the drums are sequence or programmed or whatever blows my mind. I’m not sure how he does it, but nobody does it like he can. And the scratching, though not as prominent, is always impressive. One also has to be wowed by the way he seamlessly weaves all the disparate parts together so that the end result appears to be an organic whole. Anyway, I’d probably give this 3.5 if we had half star ratings. This is probably heresy, but I’m just being honest.

In the ‘90s I was a ‘I like all music but rap and country’ snob. My two favorite radio stations were the tiny independent, college radio-like station that played lots of punk and indie music and the large corporate owned station that played alternative rock. The Score was huge enough that it crossed over to the latter station, where Killing Me Softly and No Woman, No Cry were kept in heavy rotation. The station also gave some time to Fu-Gee-La, making it one of the first rap songs I begrudgingly acknowledged as cool. I’m pretty sure I bought a copy of The Score a few years later, making it one of the first rap albums I owned. I wasn’t a full-blown hip-hop disciple yet— that wouldn’t come until the early to mid ‘00s— but this album started me down the path. The seeds were planted. I judge most music on how it hits me on an emotional level, and Fu-Gee-La still sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it. In fact, most of this album still hits hard, some of it out of pure nostalgia. Lauryn and Wyclef are both excellent— is there a better pair of rappers who can also sing?— while Pras, well, if there are too many MCs and not enough mics then we know who should be the first to go. Poor Pras. He’s not good, but he’s not bad enough to keep me from loving this, and at least he’s used sparingly. There are a few songs that aren’t as good as the others, mostly in the back half, though none of them are so bad that I have to skip them every time.

I was going to say that like a lot of people my age I discovered the Meat Puppets because of Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged session, but I realized that’s only partially true. My actual first encounter was hearing Backwater, which was a big alternative hit in 1994, and I liked it so much I taped it off the radio onto a cassette on my boombox. That they were signed to a major label and receiving airplay in the first place can most likely be attributed to Nirvana— record execs were signing all sorts of alternative bands in the post-Nirvana boom, especially bands Kurt approved of. At the time I thought the Meat Puppets were a new band. They sounded like all the other young groups on alternative radio at the time. (I would make the same mistake with Violent Femmes…) I had no idea they’d already been around for over a decade until after I’d heard Unplugged. I think I may have gotten Too High to Die first, though I only liked Backwater and quickly traded it in. I remember being excited when I found a copy of Meat Puppets II in the cutout bin at the CD store at my local mall. I also remember being flummoxed by what I heard when I first put it on. I liked the three songs covered on Unplugged, but what the heck was going on with this album? There were elements of country, there were several instrumentals, the playing and singing were kinda sloppy, the distortion on the guitar sounded flangey (which was definitely not cool in the ‘90s), and the whole thing sounded cheaply recorded— this was definitely not the Butch Vig/Chris Lord-Alge radio-friendly pop punk I was used to. All of those things may have been detractors at the time, though they eventually became the reasons I grew to love the album. (Listening to it now, I wonder how much of it unconsciously influenced me to want to make a country punk album when I played in bands in the 90s and early ‘00s— something none of my band mates ever were interested in, haha. The sound in my head was pretty much what several of the songs on here are, more punk than country, unlike the popular alt-country bands of the era.) Anyway, this is a weird but charming album. It surprises me that I don’t own any other Meat Puppets records. The only other one I remember ever listening to is Too High to Die, and I can only recall Backwater from that one.

A couple songs on the first side keep this from being a five star album for me; it’s more of a 4.5 in my mind. The second side, however, gets all the stars and is immaculate from beginning to end.

One perfect song followed by 9 inferior copies (including an icky paean to statutory rape), then one change of pace before the closing carbon copy. But oh, the glory of the title track, which is quintessential rock n roll. There aren’t many lines better than ‘and that’s the way I like it, baby, I don’t want to live forever.’

This is the only Captain Beefheart album I thoroughly enjoy. Stuff like Trout Mask Replica is too experimental for me. I like him more when his weirdness is tethered to traditional form. Here he’s still strange and unique and unpredictable, but he’s matched with songs that are catchy and flat out rock. This is one of my favorites of the Nuggets psychedelic garage rock era.

I liked this a lot more than I did the other two times I tried listening to it— once when it first came and out and then a second time about a year or two ago. It’s not that I disliked it before; it was more that I didn’t understand the fuss (which sums up my feelings for Ye in general, at least before he became an insufferable media personality). Maybe it’s that I listened to it on headphones this time, or maybe I was more open-minded. It’s a great sounding album. Kanye has always been a gifted producer, and listening this time I can see why this was so beloved by the pitchfork crowd. It sounds like a rap album created specifically for a pop/indie audience, an album designed for wide appeal. I admit that the hooks can be very catchy, the beats are often creative, and the layering of samples and harmonies can be superb. My issue is that I still don’t think Kanye is a very good rapper, and he’s especially not as great or witty as he claims to be in all his bravado. This time I around I didn’t mind so much, but I was slightly irritated by some of his cringy punchlines— like ‘they forgot about two things, my black balls’ for example— and times when his rhymes are forced or repetitive (like when he repeats ‘power’ and ‘hour’ in the chorus to Power— once is cool, the second is too much— or the song where he won’t stop repeating something about seeing hands up at the concert.) The thing is, he brags about being the best but is constantly overshadowed by the guest verses. I was enjoying Gorgeous as a solid song with great production, and then Raekwon dropped his verse and blew Kanye out of the water. He brought it to a whole ‘nother level. Same with Runaway— good production, decent rapping, but Pusha T’s lights out final line is the focal point, the most memorable part of the song. Rick Ross, Nick Minaj, Kid Cudi and even Jay Z (another rapper I’ve always thought was overrated) all make memorable appearances that steal songs or at least match Kanye’s verses. I guess you could say Ye has a great talent for choosing collaborators who fit his songs. And I am impressed by the scope and ambition of this album, including some of the reccurring themes and topics Kanye chooses to rap about. I get now why people love it. But I don’t think his skills as a wordsmith match his ambitions or his talents as a producer.

I remembered this as a five-star album. I guess I’d forgotten about a few mediocre tracks in the middle. It’s still got a lot of good stuff, and I like how Bowie helped Iggy go from unrestrained wild man proto-punk front man, all hot and heavy, to detached, cold post-punk crooner. It makes me want to listen to Lust for Life again and see if it’s still a five star album for me. I always liked that one better anyway.

One of my favorite bands. They didn’t release a bad album in the ‘60s, and this is one of their best.

The infant stages of punk. The Stooges were still finding their feet here— they wouldn’t hit their stride until their next album. There are some great songs on this one, but there’s also the tremendously dull We Will Fall (Asleep?), a ten minute momentum killer that feels way more like a John Cale song than a Stooges jam. (Hey, I like John Cale. It just feels out of the place on this album.) But let’s all agree that I Wanna Be Your Dog is one of the greatest song titles in rock n roll.

I like sexy Marvin more than socially conscious Marvin.

Maybe more like 4.5 for me. I like the second album more, in part because the three Dylan songs here aren’t are as good as the Basement Tapes versions.

A fun album. Bjork before she became too self-serious. (Or maybe Bjork’s seriousness counterbalanced by Einar’s goofiness.)

Hadn’t listened to this in quite a long time. I’d forgotten just how good the band is, as it tends to be thought of as a showcase for Janis. But the rhythm section is locked in and the guitar solos are excellent. I especially enjoy the songs featuring interplay between the two guitarists.