This was a very pleasant surprise. Seeing that IRS logo on the corner already convinced me of a good time: as a fan of REM and particularly their oldest records, this was practically a welcome home. Tracks like Our Lips Are Sealed and Skidmarks on My Heart are just great vibes, and How Much More and You Can't Walk In Your Sleep embody that great jangle pop sound.
With consistent, sure-of-their-own-identity albums like this, you sometimes get songs that are good but don't really shine in sequence, like This Town and Fading Fast. Still, the Go-Go's also explore a bit more melancholic, darker and angular side of jangle pop in tracks like Tonite and Lust to Love. And once We Got the Beat pops up, you can be sure your ears will perk up.
I'm feeling a strong 4 out of 5
I've never really bothered to look up New Order other than their singles. I found their previous album, Power, Corruption & Lies, quite passable and with the obvious lack of Blue Monday on the original tracklist, the album didn't stick with me. And with no obvious hits on Low-Life, this album seemed even more daunting, especially with that non-descript album cover
And wow what an awkward beginning. Love Vigilantes is an awfully awkward ballad, with Bernard Sumner proving that yes, he had to be coaxed to be the singer. Add in some awkward stomp rock drums and I fear some really dated music is coming up. Which is really most of this album: Bernard Sumner singing like the guy who had a few too many drinks at the karaoke bar, blaring synths, and I guess there's some drumming. The album tries to convince you its melancholic but really the fragrance I would give it is cheddar.
The only highlights for me are in the middle, when the album sounds a-typical. Sunrise sounds like a sudden The Cure-cut and instrumental Elegia is nicely moody. This Time of Night is the only song where their melancholic mood works.
Perhaps New Order isn't the band for me. I only really listen to two or three singles from them (guess which ones are the latter two because we all bloody know what the first is), and even with Joy Division I only play Unknown Pleasures.
Feeling a strong 2 to a light 3
What is it about the late 90s to early 2000s that produced great, introspective albums about living in a bustling, business-never-sleeps city? Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea captures that feeling so well, the hecticness and the constant presence of possibilities just around the corner, contrasted with the wish of finding a place of calm in the maelstrom as well, reflected in its consistent switching of hectic, loud songs with floating, dreamy songs.
Good Fortune and A Place Called Home are two of my favourite songs and they're placed here back to back, the former embodying that feeling of sauntering through a city with a close friend or a significant other, the latter embodying that liminal feeling of being exhausted in public transport, heading home at full speed but not feeling quite there yet. And embodying that combination of "we're here together while the world spins around us", we have Thom Yorke joining the album in This Mess We're In.
Elsewhere you also get PJ Harvey's trademark grimy rock, from the starting stomper Big Exit, to The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore where Harvey lets out a belting scream at the end. And of course the superlative horny single This is Love.
As the trip-hoppy track We Float closes the album, it's almost tantalizing to wonder about this period of time in 2000, the turn of the millenium, where everybody thought history ended or at least thought the future was going to be hectic but inspiring, before the real storm crashed onto the shorebanks of the city.
I'm feeling a strong 4 to a light 5
As my first Stones album, this is probably not the most exemplary Stones album, but it kinda also is? Feels like the Stones were so deep in their imperial phase, they didnt give a fuck by putting lushly produced epos right next to the blues.
I'm feeling a light 4
For a notoriously artsy, underground band, this is quite a cozy and intimate listen. Like sitting in a room with your art school friends, just joking about (I'm Set Free) and saying some weird shit (The Murder Mystery), but also showing you their most vulnerable side (Candy Says).
Light 4
And don’t forget to listen to Anohni's cover of Candy Says
dont look at the score, i had to delete an accidental rreview
museum of modern art-core
A very pleasant surprise. Says on the tin: blues music but with energy and rhythm. Suggesting a brevity and joy of life despite the upheavals and uprooting the band had to endure. Would like to see them live.
A pleasant listen, which is probably damning it with faint praise. According to Wikipedia, the album explores "themes of insanity, deception and rootlessness—the title refers to a fever suffered by sailors during long hot voyages." If this album explored its small sonic idiosyncracies or the nautical vibe more ala Ween's The Mollusk, I'd probably love it more. Instead it's overbearing production makes it sound more like a lesser U2 or INXS or R.E.M. circa Out of Time. Still, that's not bad company.
Strong 3, eeking out to a light 4.
I'm surprised at the sound of this album. For an Industrial album, I expected something loud, abrasive and noisy. And while there are moments like that, such as in the tracks Hit by a Rock and Walls of Sound, what underpins this album is an understated, unsettling ambience.
Opener I.B.M is a great introduction, setting the tone with lots of random noises building tension around an underpinning signal. Weeping starts oddly serene with an echoing guitar, before quickly turning to that muted sinister sound. Most understated sounding song goes to Hamburger Lady, which somehow is the most famous song from this album as the lyrics are gruesome.
It's this variety of sound that makes this album influential. I get flashbacks to Boards of Canada in Hometime, with its explicitly homely, childlike veneer over something dark, as well as Kraftwerk in AB/7A with its simultaneous chirpy and cold sound. And Steve Albini must've surely listened to those chainsaw guitars on Dead on Arrival.
It's that focus on almost homely horror, instead of the baroque operatic shocking the genre would (d)evolve to in the 90s, that makes this album great and probably made Throbbing Gristle hit too close to home for all the conservative haters calling in in Death Threats.
(Still, it still feels that with the original album art (and that includes more than the cover) it does cross a line like those acts in the 90s did. And a cursory Wikipedia read about it's members is... not reassuring)
Light 4
quite frankly this album slid off me after song 6. and that first song, jesus
1
I like the instrumentals the most, and Mr. Blue Sky of course, but to be honest this album isn't diverse enough to justify being a double LP: so many songs are just massive ass production pinning simple mod-tempo songs. And any double LP better be worth my fucking time.
Strong 2 to a light 3
Classic, is probably the word for this album. Rock aficinados probably know My Generation (a great fuck you song in which the f-word is on the tip of their tongue) and The Kids are All Right, but in many other songs of this album, you're getting a good, raw time. Only downside are the covers, which don't sound bad but do sound like it's probably more worth it to listen to the originals.
Strong 4
prepare to purify yourself in the waters of lake minnetonka
At the beginning, I was afraid this was gonna be the bad kind of indie rock: effete, kind of muscleless and too basic. Something easily slottable in a Spotify playlist and promptly forgotten. Thankfully, Wild Beasts' lead vocalist quickly assuaged these worries, as his operatic vocals underpin the songs and give it something to bounce off to. Surprisingly never a dull moment.
Light 4
First album of Elton John I've listened. At previous albums from legendary artists I've barely truly listened to, I could say "this pretty much encapsulates the artist" whether it's their down-to-basics debut or their opulent imperal work. But at this album I'm like "hmmmm it's not as flamboyant as I expected, but it also drags on for way too long." It's only nine songs, but most of them cross the 5 minute mark and don't hold my attention to be honest, with the obvious exception being Tiny Dancer.
Hope next time Elton pops up, it'll be a proper experience.
Strong 3
too easy listening for my taste. probably not the fault of the musicians of this album, its just what it is
strong 2
noodling so long youll be fucking slurping for ten minutes straight while your teeth go sore
Strong 1
[in Dale Cooper from Twin Peaks' voice] Damn fine Psychedelic Pop!
elvis stop eating the microphone
Strong 4
As a Bowie fan, I have to admit I have never fully listened to this album. In Bowie's lore, this was positioned as the radical break from Bowie's glam past into his new soul era, but also as an awkward transitional phase to his artsy era.
But in reality, what Bowie sets out to do here is plain: create 'plastic soul', a good if maybe inauthentic replications of the soul and funk sound Bowie was falling (back?) in love with. And these are some damn fine songs, 'Win' and 'Can You Hear Me' have a nice smooth sound to them, while 'Fascination', 'Right' and the famous 'Fame' have that funk edge to them.
But the real distinctive quality is Bowie's performance. He sounds less passionate and more desperate and exhaustive, his highs and sustains creaking along the edge. You can immediately hear it in the opening track 'Young Americans', and the undertone pervades the entire album. It's a type of distant paranoia that Bowie would further indulge in in his next album, Station to Station (a personal favourite), although for obvious reasons that paranoid path is not one to walk long term.
What is long term is the strong backing band that Bowie has assembled here, which he will play with for the rest of the 70s and his classic era, such as the Berlin era, and which will form the really secret sauce of those albums (it's not Brian Eno, well known people are not secret sauces). Fans of Bowie's artistic records do themselves a misfavor by skipping this record.
Strong 4
way too many slow jams goddamnit. the fact this gets a three shows you the strength of good singles.
Decent 3
David Bowie's troubled masterpiece. At this point in his life, the glam-studded, flamboyant star of Ziggy is long gone, rotted away by David's cocaine addiction. Bowie's alter egos at this point are just a thinly veiled facade of his demons: cold, unpleasant, and paranoid. And yet, Station to Station is one of Bowie's best albums, and an important stepping stone to his upcoming Berlin Trilogy.
Everything Young Americans was is here, twisted and stretched to its breaking point. Where Bowie's performances were distant in that album, here they are outright worn-out and paranoid. The title track is a ten minute epos, starting off appropriately with the quiet sounds of a train arriving before the feedback of a guitar, the heavy drums and bass, and the dark funk rhythm guitars herald the arrival of the Thin White Duke. First underpinned by Bowie's languid singing about the occult, the song suddenly snaps in pace as the piano enters the fray, and Bowie sings more quickly and paranoid. "It's not the side effects of the cocaine" indeed. The line "It's too late" eventually repeats ad infinitum as the song fades out.
Even in the other songs, an undercurrent of paranoia is prominent. Golden Years is a perfect Elvis pastiche, in particular his bloated Vegas years. A deliciously slick guitar plays as Bowie plays both the desperate, high pitched pleader as well as the distant background watcher. "Run for the shadows." Stay is a great rocker, with an appropriate spotlight for the lead guitar in the intro and outro. "Please do something" TVC15 lulls you into a false sense of playfulness with its propulsive piano, guitars and "oh ohs", before Bowie sings about a demonic television. "Oh my T V C One Five. Oh oh. T V C One Five." The occult has never been this catchy.
Between the massive tracks, Word on a Wing and Wild is the Wing seemingly act as palette cleansers, as pretty ballads on the surface. However, Bowie himself claims no respite, as he cries and pleads in these songs, his voice cracking at times.
A great album, but with the important proviso that suffering never is a prerequisite for great art. Bowie himself would luckily beat his cocaine addiction. However, he would not even remember making this album, and the album itself sounds like you're in fugue state. One could even argue the Berlin albums sound like a man trying to come down and clean up the mess. We're at least lucky Station to Station wasn’t his last album.
Strong 5
Before Brian Eno was 'The Godfather of Ambient', Brian Eno was a glam rocker. Even still, you could (if maybe bad faithy) say in both eras he was a pretentious, self-described 'non-musician'. For example, in the very gay atmosphere of glam rock, Eno's bragging during an interview by Chrissie Hynde about his hentai collection and Japanese style of downstairs shaving reads as tryhard.
Still, his flourishing works very well musically with glam rock;. In another universe, 'Needles in the Camel Eye' could be a smash glam anthem, but Eno uses harsh drums, an eternally ringing guitar and carnivallike cheesy keyboard to spice it up. 'Baby's on Fire' creates a comically dark mood, before introducing a slicing guitar. 'Driving Me Backwards' is a sleazy, Broadway-esque song, complemented with an intense wah wah guitar at the end. And 'On Some Faraway Beach' starts out as a nice instrumental, but gradually builds up in grandiosity.
It's his already sharp focus on interesting sonics that makes this album worth a listen, even if 'Eno is leading the album out with a pissing metaphor' is not the type of Eno he's most famous for nowadays.
To be honest, when I first listened to this album a long time ago, I may have had way too high expectation. An album with such a legendary lore, born out of the remains of an ambitious plan to create a epos about the unity Rock brings, it almost sounds like you're in for a Prog Rock Masterpiece. It doesn't help that Baba O'Reily is such an all time classic track, with a Philip Glass-esque synth line underpinning the entire track, effortlessly rocking with melancholy as Roger Daltry sings about the teenage wasteland, eventually ending with a violinlike guitar and an actual guitar. It's such a great opening track taking you to so many places in five minutes...
...and it's probably unfair to the rest of the album that it creates such high expectations of ambition that many of other tracks don't really want to strive for in the first place. But perhaps listening to a bit more Who albums as a reminder that they simply make Great Rock and the rest of the album reveals itself as simply the work of a very confident band, bringing songs that swing between rocking and melancholia effortlessly.
Strong to YEAAHHHHHHHHH 4
Oh Morrissey, you fucking twat.
I am begrudgingly a Smiths-fan; I love their singles, but their albums don't really click for me. I like Morrissey as an atypical gay icon, but the less said about his abhorrent politics the better. So when the melody maestro Johnny Marr says fuck you to Morrissey and splits up the Smiths, I wouldn't expect the first solo album of Morrissey to be of note.
Well, that same duality of man can be found in this album. Part of this album is Morrissey in all his narcissistic grandiosity, now commanding all the musicians to his beckoning. Alsatian Cousin is a great opener, a sludgy track with a mean ass bass to back it up. Everyday is Like Sunday finds Morrissey pulling out the orchestra to prove his music is as grand as his ambitions. Late Night, Maudlin Street demands you to hear Morrissey out for a straight 7 minutes, but the instrumental vibe is good.
But part of the album sounds like Morrissey taking it for granted and not giving a shit. Little Man What Now is nice acoustic tinged ditty that's maybe a tad too short. Angel Angel We Go Together is another throwaway track, except this time Morrissey wastes the strings. Treat Me Like a Human Being and I Don't Mind if You Forget Me have some naff instrumentals, and frankly from that point onwards the album is forgettable (even though yes, Margaret Thatcher deserved the guillotine)
The duality is most apparant in two tracks, Suedehead and Bengali in Platforms. The former is a great ass track and one of my favourite songs. Even though the instrumentation sounds too much like Johnny Marr circa Strangeways, Here we Come, that's not really a mark against the song because it sounds so damn good. Morrissey is also not overstretching himself and just writes a good relatable song about longing gay love (The fact that Morrissey is fanboying about James Dean in the music video and limits his autofellatioing mostly to the first 30 seconds helps).
But Bengali in Platforms... oof. Don't think I want to hear a song from a future almost-UKIP voter about the plight of immigrants, just because he has a boner for the guy. Plus there is that orientalist cliche in the 'lets sample some exotic music'.
Morrissey wants to prove two things with this album. He wants to pretend he is still that effete, relatable uwu man (even though the album is called Viva Hate), and he also wants to pretend he is the next Big Hot Shit who doesn't need the Smiths. Considering after this album he barely makes something of note and that he dropped the effeteness for muscles and the racist subtext for more blatant racism, well, at the very least this album is of note for like a couple songs and nothing else.
But hey, in my opinion that's the average Smiths experience.
Mid 3
it's just great rock with a little tinge of 80s production
light 4
R.E.M.'s weakest album so far. At this point, R.E.M. has long left behind the moody post-punk of methodical jangle guitar and kudzu-thick mumbled lyrics in favour of clean, anthemic alt-pop. After their previous record "Document" had already given us two great pop classics in "It's The End Of The World As We Know It" and "The One I Love", R.E.M. seemed poised to lead the alternative revolution into the mainstream, to become the American Smiths.
And thus, Green is... fine. Just fine.
In opener 'Pop Song 89', Michael Stipe suddenly finds himselves in the rung of the famous, asking around for help on how he should be a pop star: should he sing about frivolous stuff, or should he use fame as a platform to speak up, only getting tepid 'ayes' in response. Unfortunately, it's the unintended thesis of the album: you're getting both politically engaged songs and frivolous pop, but neither is executed in a passionate and memorable way.
Stand is the sell-outy, child friendly pop single of the album, and it doesn't work as Michael Stipe is bad at sounding like he cares about kids stuff, sounding more like he is distant. Say what you will about 'Shiny Happy People', but at least his tone works for that songs. He certainly doesn't sound happy in 'Stand'
'Orange Crush' is the anti-war song and while it sounds good and my favourite cut from this album, it feels like there is something missing. The chorus and verse neatly follow to each other without modulating too much in the process, and without Mike Mills' dependable backing 'oooohhhs' in the chorus, it would probably be as forgettable as all the other songs on the album.
It's just weird that, despite having two albums before that sound just like this one, "R.E.M. puts on the big anthemic pants without losing that thick Southern mood and queer/left-wing ethos" this one is downright forgettable. Perhaps it is forgettable because it is too much like those previous albums. R.E.M. may have become more popular with this formula, but it was apparant some change was needed in order to stay sustainable. And luckily, it would come; R.E.M. hasn't even reached 'Losing My Religion' yet. But for this album, it's unfortunately too late.
RYM gives this album the genres "Neo-Psychedelia, Post-Punk, Jangle Pop." Kind of an all-over the place variety of genres, so it's just better to say this album sounds like 60s hippie pop given a little bit of early 80s punk energy. But that feels too slight of a description. This is a great pop album that somehow manages to foreshadow a lot of trends of the alternative 80s, being long before the trend of 60s nostalgia, Pixies-esque obsession of quiet-loud dynamics, and Johnny Marr's jangle maximizing the sound of the guitar.
I Wanna Destroy You is a great opener and mission statement. Amidst jangle pop with a delicious twang, the singer belts out the title of the track. Kingdom of Love has a great interplay between the first calmer section of the chorus, and the second meaner section of the chorus. Positive Vibrations definitely brings the punk speed to the late 60s love songs a la Beach Boys, esp with the sitar sprinkled in. I Got the Hots sounds sleazy in an almost cute way, especially with that inversion of tone in the chorus, even ending out in a rocking tremolo. And Insanely Jealous of You builds up subtle tension, punctuated by a delicxious guitar, before the singer repeats the jealousy. All of these are just S-tier songs.
Granted, the album doesn't always have killer songs hiding great ambition. Tonight is a bit more of a traditional love song. You'll Have To Go Sideways is another exercise in tension building, although this time it starts louder, and kinda stays that way. Old Pervert is another sleazy song, but a bit more punky. Queen of Eyes is a really pretty and almost romantic song, that's unfortunately a bit too short. Still, these are not bad songs, just A-tier songs which still showcase the great talent of the band.
And all is again great with the closing title track of the album, carrying the romanticism of Queen of Eyes and fleshing it out with the track dynamics and build-up that The Soft Boys have shown in the previous tracks.
A damn fine album with a effortless faux-psychedelic sound and swagger.
Decent 5
The singles are Rock classics, no doubt about it. But if you wanna discover if there are some gem deep cuts inside, don't bother.
Strong 2 to light 3
What is it about Soul music being such a comfy warm blanket in the winter times? Or is it because Marvin Gaye is known for wearing beanies?
Strong 4 to light 5.
For their eventual reputation of over-complicating (and over-sleazing) things, Van Halen's first album is just great rock 'n roll songs (hell, they even cover the Kinks here!) Good call to put the elaborate guitar playing in a very tight framework of just 3 minute songs, making them not overstay their welcome, but perfectly packing a punch.
(plus the fact 80s overproduction hasn't hit hard rock yet helps as well)
Decent 4
Deerhunter was never meant to be a pretty band. The accidental brainchild of gay frontperson Bradford Cox, they had always meant the punky band to be a side-project, only finding the side-project blowing up in the cool and hip indie sphere of Pitchfork as the band gradually turned more ambient and neo-psychedelic. But that mean, abrasive and standoffish undercurrent still stayed, just hidden under layers of very pretty guitar noise.
Halcyon Digest is Deerhunter's peak in creating beautiful soundscapes. Earthquake, Sailing and Basement Scene are great vibe songs, gently creating a watery soundscape to create a melancholic mood. But even in these songs, there is something uncanny going on: Earthquake has those gulping sounds and very soft but thumping percussion, Sailing has droning guitar feedback buried in the background, while Bradford covers their voice in layers of feedback and compression in Basement Scene. They evoke a sense of nostalgia, but it's not a simple nostalgia; more like something has burned off the edges of the memory, whether by the difficulty of recalling, or because the memory is actually painful.
Surrounding the slower songs are some great poppy and punky songs like Don't Cry, Revival and Memory Boy. But even in the seemingly happier songs, the lyrics carry a sinister undertone, like the subject is actually going through something traumatic; Don't Cry suggesting a target of paedophilia being poached. Main single Helicopter is inspired by the fictional story of a gay victim of human trafficking falling from a helicopter. He Would Have Laughed is an eulogy to a friend of the band, comprised out of a repeating weird melody, seemingly random phrases, before after five minutes the clouds seem to part and a folksy guitar appears as the line "Where did my friends go?" is being sung, before the melody returns and after a short while, the song suddenly cuts out, almost as a metaphor for the last moments of consciousness before dying. Sure, dealing with such subject matter seem to be a little tactless and crass (again, that mean undercurrent), but these songs share that subtext of gay anger and longing. A confusing feeling, but Bradford Cox never plays their cards straight in this album. It's always pretty layers stacked upon sharp layers.
However, the other members of the band help this album from sinking into despair. Moses Archuleta's simple, no-nonsense drumming gives the songs a lumbering sense of force, while co-songwriter and singer Lockett Puntt gives two great songs acting as counterforce. His songs Desire Lines and Fountain Stairs are almost anthemic and U2-like, especially with that repetitive drive from the guitar, were it not for the longing vibe.
With the sense of anthemic drive, the beautiful guitar tones and the gay subtext all in perfect balance, its easy to see why this is Deerhunter's most beloved album. Still, it's not quite my personal favourite album. I tend to gravitate more towards the earlier Microcastle, for its better sense of drive, or the later Monomania, for taking the angry subtext into text. Even Fading Frontiers, which is a way more uneven album than the rest of their catalog, has better pop highlights with even prettier sounds. But still, Halcyon Digest is a damn fine work from one of my favourite bands.
Decent 5
The best Coldplay album, according to people who hate Coldplay (which I used to, now I'm just more eh about them), and it's due to blatant rockist allegations: when Coldplay ripped off the ashes of post-Britpop/Radiohead (somehow), instead of insert-inescapable-current-pop-trend here.
Yes, this is Coldplay before they were the anthemic pop band they would be know for, and this more stripped back sound reveals hidden and surprising strengths. Don't Panic is surprisingly light on its feet thanks to that fast but quiet drum beat; within two seconds, Coldplay deliver a perfect slice of pop. Shiver reveals Coldplay can rock out but still be romantic and soulful a la Jeff Buckley (if you wanna accuse them of ripping an artist off, accuse them of ripping off Jeff Buckley. That accusation makes more sense than Radiohead, considering Thom Yorke was also lifting Buckley's tricks). High Speed has a nice spacy, dreamy vibe, showing the band has an interest in interesting sonic texture, which would serve them later on.
However, the basic template sound also reveals known pitfalls. Yellow and Trouble are well-earned classic singles in Coldplay oeuvres. But if you listen to the other ballady songs on the album, you can tell the good reason they were not the singles; they're way too long and slow, and very superfluous in light of the existence of the singles. Spies is nice, but Sparks is meh, We Never Change is flat, and Everything's Not Lost sounds overwrought, like what a Coldplay song sounds like in the head of Coldplay-haters. (And of course, this album has inoffensive but still forgettable throwaway songs)
It's a nice album and feels very early 2000s, but it does sound very basic in places, and you can't fault Coldplay from wanting to move on from that onto higher peaks.
Strong 3 to light 4.
CW for the album: very high pitched noises.
In one of his long deleted videos, former Pitchfork-scribe Chris Ott described the social purpose of noise pop and shoegaze: to create a space where the shy, introverted people could enjoy and celebrate pop music, without the baggage that popular music entails. It's a very romantic and intimate music, but also in a way that intensely filters anyone not interested in appreciating its idiosyncracies, and the pop stars will not try to invite you; you will have to find your way in.
The Jesus and Mary Chain wanted to be popular, or at least their manager hyping them up and their trolling interview with Belgian tv presenter Bart Peeters (in which they bullied him for liking Joy Division) say so. But listening to the album, you might be wondering if they're actually serious. It's has loud ass feedback and high-pitched noises that would make the Sex Pistols sound like quaint background music. Yet, The Jesus and Mary Chain still use sweet and short bubblegum pop as their building blocks, making a Ramones-comparison more apt. The album sounds indeed like the ethos of shoegaze: make the catchiest music imaginable, but only for those willing to climb the wall of noise.
Or at least, that's the platonic ideal of shoegaze. In practice, the album is very basic in both its pop melodies and noise sounds. In terms of the latter, the album kinda relies on its high pitched feedback a bit too much, so that it sometimes sounds like an exhausting crutch. On the pop side, a lot of the melodies can be very basic and not memorable after you're done listening to the song. It also doesn't help that Just Like Honey is just the perfect song on earth, sounding as sweet and romantic as the sweet natural product in its title. Still, there are also some great fast punk songs to offsets these weaknesses from time to time, like Taste the Floor. And as a reminder not to take this all too seriously, It's So Hard shitposts the album to a close.
It's not hard to see how this album became so influential, not just for the development of shoegaze, but for the broader marriage of the two polar opposities of approachable pop and impenetrable attitude, that is taken more for granted today. Still, that's a lesson that's sometimes forgotten; I see older generations who were there to see the Jesus and Mary Chain live completely forget this lesson when they see younger ~~and queer cough~~ artists for a younger generation. Not everything has to be for you, if you vibe with it that's cool, if not just leave as fast as possible, if the noises haven't chased you away yet.
Strong 3, light 4
For many, this is Queen's best album. A nice blend of fun songs but also very ambitious songs. Considering they were almost fucked by their management (called out in the opening song "Death on Two Legs"), this album sounds like a last hurrah; why not make your most fun trolling songs (I'm in Love with my Car), a sci-fi song hidden in a folsky song ('39), a fun pastiche (Seaside Rendezvous), an encompassing epos (The Prophet's Song) and most off all, a queer cowboy song about regret and shame (Bohemian Rhapsody) if it might be the last chance before the managers leave you bankrupt?
Decent 4
i feel like you need to put on a loop of nonstop stadium screaming in the background to truly appreciate this.
check out im happy just to dance with you,
and i love her, things we said today; theyre nice deep cuts
light 4
The first, and last, Bowie album I got to experience while it dropped. It started with promises that his next album would be jazzier, as ambitious as his legendary work. Bits and pieces of the title track would appear, before the glorious full ten minutes dropped in November. I instantly fell in love with it; it sounded so fresh, so creatively rejuvenated, yet also familiar; the mysterious sound and lyics evocative of Bowie's previous occult masterpiece Station to Station. "In the villa of Ormen, stands a solitary candle." What did the lyrics mean? Is Bowie gonna release more creepy, artsy music videos? How was the rest of the album gonna build off this epic sound? Needless to say, I was properly hyped.
In December, Lazarus dropped. It was a bit slower, more straightforward than Blackstar. Bowie's vocals were more direct and impassionate. Yet, foolishly, I didn't get what he was trying to say. "Look up here, man, I'm in danger."
On January 8th, the full album dropped, and I listened to it for the first time as I went back home from college. 'Tis a Pity She Was a Whore sounds energetic and propulsive, while Bowie sang smokey cool lyrics. Sue (Or in a Season of Crime) is frantic and off-kilter. Girl Loves Me is creepy. I got what I wanted, but it also felt in a way overwhelming.
And then, like the clouds parting, Dollar Days and I Can't Give Everything came up. The former is melancholic, while the latter is hopeful, yet also whistful at the same time. This was a great album and a new second wind, I thought, and I hope Bowie would make more great music in the future. I went online and read some reviews. One of them even commenting on how obtuse the album was, in a positive manner, and how we may never decode the meaning of the album...
Next Monday, news broke that David Bowie had died. Suddenly, the message of the album snapped into focus. Bowie was saying goodbye, making one final album as a parting gift, to prove himself for the last time and try to make amends for the Grim Reaper. Like doofuses, we all had missed the lyrical content and musical ambition for what they really were, too late to really appreciate the great work and the great artist while we still had it. Bowie knew however, and even he, like all artists in their final years, felt regret that there was not enough time to say everything he wanted and could say before the end.
Cherish the moment.
Arcade Fire's peak. Supposedly. With the album infamously winning a Grammy to the confusion of Poptimist "Who the fuck is Arcade Fire" Twitter, it seemed like the Pitchfork-nerds had won and indie rock was gonna rule. And I've always felt to that sentiment: "Thanks to this album? Really?" Conventional discourse pegged this album as better than its predecessor Neon Bible. I disagree, this album is worse. It's supposedly "less epic, more stripped down" than Neon Bible. That's false, its bloody longer and too long. But also true, because it doesn't have quite the bombastic soundscape as Neon Bible. That honestly is a negative for me; how many albums can boast having a fucking church organ!??! With almost 15 years behind us and with the foresight that, no, indie rock did not Own Music, the question that remains is: is this actually a good album on its own or not?
You'd be forgiven for thinking it is an album of the year, based on the first few tracks. The opening title track immediately introduces the premise of both nostalgia for as well as disgust of Suburbia via a fictional suburban effectively. The track leads nicely into the next track Ready to Start, a good barnburner. Rococo, Empty Room and City with No Children are a step up, each song creating a unique sonic different from the other, the first having slow decay of the decadent, the second mixing punk with chamber music, and the third doing Arcade Fire's trademark anthemics.
However, the conceit of "stripped down Arcade Fire" means that, slowly over the course of the album, you notice the band reusing their sonic and lyrical tricks. Modern Man is a nice but inessential track. Both Half Light tracks are long and meandering, as is Suburban War. Month of May feels like a repeat of their previous punky song. And Wasted Hours sure feels like an apt title. By the time Deep Blue plays, I realised what was grating me. The basic songs put more focus on Win Butlers singing. Problem is, he sings very basic shit. Not necessarily wrong shit (you'll have to wait till the album Everything Now for that), but shit that doesn't make you go 'aha' or articulate a known feeling in a new, precise way. It's more like rote teenage shit we all wrote that is at best not very unique and at worst cringe.
The album sputters on until the second-to-last song Sprawl II; a slice of pure, affirming synth-pop not by Win Butler but Regine Chassange. If only "Arcade Fire goes back to basics" was more like this.
Usually when an artist is in their imperial phase, they tend to overdo stuff just to see what they can get away with. Fans will praise that stuff, while detractors look around confused, asking how everyone is overlooking the obvious problems. The Suburbs is Arcade Fire in their imperial phase, but for some reason they chose to both overindulge as well as strip back. In doing so, Arcade Fire turn their biggest strengths into their biggest weaknesses. Epic orchestras become an overreliance on everything-but-the-kitchen-sink instrumentation. Ambitious concepts become way too long pop songs. And the earnestness of the lyrics become very Basic lyrics by Win "I am a creep yet I describe myself being in an open relationship" Butler, sometimes so Basic they fall back into being pretentious. But that's a Reflektion for another time.
Strong 3
wait these guys are british?
Light 4
That brief moment when Neo-Psychedelia hit the pop charts. Taking the blueprint The Flaming Lips had established for the psych sound of the 2000s, blown-out drums, melting guitars, simple and escapist lyrics, but replacing the fuzzy synth textures with sharper synth hooks, MGMT hit it out of the park with the songs Electric Feel and Kids. The album itself has great cuts, especially at the beginning. Just a simple delight.
Decent 4
For a band who essentially wrote the template on which 90s alternative rock would be based upon, their 1990s work is regarded as lesser than their 80s work. Sometimes for valid reasons (increasingly marginalized contributions by bass legend Kim Deal, to the point frontman Frank Black even steals her background vocals), sometimes for lesser reasons: Bossanova does not neatly fall into the loud-quiet-loud dynamic the Pixies have popularized. Instead, this is where Frank Black's fascination with space begins, complete with a much grander sound.
Cecila Ann and Rock Music act as tonesetters for the albums, the former establishing the space surf rock and the latter reminding you Joey Santiago still was the premier guitar noise pop craftsman while Frank belts out his characteristic nerve-popping screams. Velouria is the real start, a theremin in the background underpinning the heavy guitar blasting off the song.
Some of the songs are very short, par for the course for the Pixies. Alison is a fun, fast rocker, over in less than 90 seconds. Dig for Fire is a rare and nice upper song for Pixies standards. Granted, it's not always a slam dunk: Blown Away and Hang Wire are admittedly a bit too standard Pixies, while Stormy Weather is a throwaway joke track (but then again, not all Pixies albums are free of fluff).
But the real strength of the album is when Pixies establish something that's not traditionally Pixies, like a more mysterious mood during Is She Weird and Ana, or longer songs that take you on an adventure, such as All Over The World (which feels like two Pixies songs stitched together) and The Happening. Granted, the changes aren't that radical. Don't expect Pixies to suddenly turn into Yes; those longer songs are four or five minutes long compared to the standard length of 2 minutes for the band.
Perhaps it's because of those subtle differences that for many, this album pales in comparison to its precedessor Doolittle. Still, for me this is my favourite Pixies album. The Pixies have always flourished in the weird, kitschy and the sci-fi, and Bossanova exemplifies that strength in spades (hell the cover looks like an old Universal Pictures logo). Or perhaps it's because in subsequent albums, they become both too different and too similar to their classic work that Bossanova gets hit by association. Whatever the reasoning, if you like the Pixies, you do yourself a disservice by skipping this album.
Strong 4 to a Light 5
Out of all the big Grunge bands, Pearl Jam is probably the uncoolest. For a genre that was marketed as more austere, punk and down-to-earth than the hair metal of the 80s, Pearl Jam seems to disprove this notion by showing grunge can be as slick, heavy and appreciative of classic rock (and long-haired) as glam metal.
A lot of Pearl Jam's strengths on display on Ten are probably also very controversial for the grunge snob. The songs are on the long side for rock, often containing guitar solos or other musical show offs, or veering off into the melodramatical. For example, in classic track Even Flow, the guitar is flourished with some light, glammy tremolo. (Some tracks even feature odes to bassist legend Mick Karn; what is less grunge-like than tributes to a glam new waver?)
But the most controversial part of Pearl Jam is probably Eddie Vedder's singing. Even though slurred singing is a proud tradition in alternative rock, from Michael Stipe to Kurt Cobain himself, Eddie Vedder sings out of theatrical passion rather than ironic ambiguity, which gives songs like Black a lot of power, but is probably tragically uncool in the "real" (read ironic) 90s. It doesn't help that Vedder's mumbly style sometimes clashes with the clear stories he wants to tell; Alive has long been misinterpreted as a life-affirming song, and I only get the meaning of Jeremy because the music video has made it explicit (despite the bands protestation for literal music videos and the censorship of said video ironically also twisting the meaning into something more gruesome)
Perhaps because Pearl Jam was not afraid to bear their hearts, their loves and passion, into this album, that made a lot of detractors say Pearl Jam wasn't really grunge when not only do they embody many of the facets of the genre, they (in one form or another) have been at it the longest before the break-through of grunge. Perhaps in being so passionate and as theatrical as the hair metal of the past, they were too real for the "REAL" 90s. Or at least this album was.
Strong 4 to light 5
Cocteau Twins' most popular album, and probably not coincidentally the one that overlaps with Shoegaze's imperial era as well. Both Dream Pop and Shoegaze started out deconstructing pop music by transforming them into something unrecognizable. In early Cocteau Twins, the atmosphere was inscrutable and Elizabeth Frazer's singing even more cryptic and siren-esque. By the early 90s, both genres had come up with an unique sound out of their experimentations and were now moving back to pop: what would be the most approachable, poppiest music they could make without losing that characteristic sound?
Here Cocteau Twins presents ten simple pop songs laced with their own sound thats probably one of the best ways of introducing someone to Dream Pop (without immediately throwing them into the deep end like you would with Loveless). The textures the guitars produces sound unlike anything you have ever heard a guitar make, almost closer to a jangly chippy synth. And Elizabeth Frazer, though now more discernably understandable, still sounds angelic. It gives the effect of her singing being both a sweet and lovingly way but also a fundamentally not 100-comprehensibly way, still allowing for an air of mystery to pervade.
You can't get closer to heavenly vibes than this.
Strong 4 to Light 5
There should be an edict that songs longer than four-and-a-half minutes should be reserved for prog, jazz, dance etc and not for beatles-inspired pop rock
For some reason, art rock liked to cosplay as world music in the late 70s to mid 80s. Peter Gabriel, Japan, Paul Simon, and of course Talking Heads prided themselves on using "exotic" (hurl) sounds and introducing them to the world. Maybe it was because as the synths became more and more prominent and rock more cliche, something was needed to keep it fresh. Maybe it was because samples were becoming a musical instrument of their own. Or maybe it was because Fela Kuti was that good.
Anyway, I have to admit, this specific niche of music is a bit of a guilty pleasure for me, and My Life In The Bush of Ghosts slots right into it. You get a series of sleek Funk instrumentals that build a great, unique mood. Mea Culpa is almost postapocalyptic, with distorted voice clips sounding like a barely transmitting radio broadcast. Help Me Somebody has delicious polyrhythms with that distinct 'Remain in Light' flavor. Regiment has Lebanese chanting trading off with Frippian guitar. The buildup to the ending of The Jezebel Spirit is great, and Mountain of Needles is basically Brian Eno showing off his nice synths.
It's a nice album, even if it's influence is a bit overstated and you should be critical of whether those samples from Arabic sources were actually paid.
Light 4
