Fun fact: I had to look up how this thing was formatted on a vinyl. Apparently it's split across two sides like normal? It would be cool if it all fit on one side and the other side was some design. Album #10. The tracks all sound the same. The refrains bounce off the walls. The vocalist clearly wants you to feel something. The subject matter resembles graffiti. The drums never stop. The cover art is sneering at you. The longest song is 1:35. The needle lifts by the time you've thought to think about it. It's timeless. No notes.

Fun fact: on this listen, my record player was stuck and I didn't realize it, so I started it four times and eagerly awaited those familiar pulses four times before I realized. Also my player was on 45 rpm throughout all of "Speak to Me". This is why siblings shouldn't get to borrow your record player over the summer. Anyways the fact that I already had this album on vinyl should start to clue you into my opinion. Fun fact 2: By coincidence I also happened to revisit the last two tracks of Division Bell today. Now THAT'S a weird one. Album #1. Was pretty nervous about this project seeing as I've tried similar large-scale music discovery initiatives before and they haven't persisted long, and this promises to take almost four years, but when I clicked the button and saw this album I let out an audible chuckle. What are the chances that the album most often crowned as the greatest of all time should happen to be my first review? DSOTM requires no introduction, not to me or anyone else. But while I'm here I'm tempted to reminisce about my history with Dark Side, if not Floyd as a whole because that would take much, much too long. But I can tell you how I remember first encountering Pink Floyd through this album on a sleepover with a friend in fifth grade, putting it on shuffle on Spotify and laughing off the confusion. Buying it on vinyl at Best Buy in sixth grade and listening to it with my mom, and being jump-scared by the chimes in "Time". Putting it on one time when I was sick and younger, lying down on a couch and falling in love with music. I now have eight dusty Pink Floyd records and two posters in my childhood room. My middle school yearbook quote came from this album. I wanted to name my dog Floyd. To this day, I cannot enter a busy airport and not listen to "On the Run". I've ignored Floyd a lot in recent years--probably a reaction to how pretentious and obsessed I was with them previously, as well as current Roger Waters--but you can't deny this. Probably not Floyd's best album, probably not even their most significant cultural impact, but this was formative. Looking forward to this project, which I now realize will involve a lot of looking back, which I'm learning to be okay with. Wish I'd something more to say, except bring it on.

Fun fact: I first discovered Elliott Smith through Rick and Morty. Go figure. Album #2. Despite how head over heels I was for Smith's music in ninth grade, I can't recall a time when I actually listened to one of his albums all the way through. So here we are! A definite all-timer, even if I think his later work carries the greater emotional punch with more interesting instrumentation to boot. (This opinion comes from not looking up the lyrics to this album, which I will continue my abstinence from. I can't be crushed today.) My preference for the more experimental portion of Smith's discography admittedly probably comes from the way I've traditionally discovered artists in high school: mixed in with playlists instead of through individual albums. So it makes sense why this collection doesn't have as tight of a grasp on my heart-- it really is reflective music to lose yourself in quiet, still rooms. I believe this album will find me then, and I'll ponder its true power. Until then...

Fun fact: "Heart of Gold" was the first song I learned to play all the way through on guitar. Album #3. Neil Young has long been a close singer-songwriter to me, despite my lack of real experience with his music, because of how early I discovered and held onto a few of his songs. "Heart of Gold", of course, but also this album's "Harvest", "My My, Hey Hey", "Harvest Moon". They're very basic picks, but I like to attribute my not having tethered myself to more of his catalog to a certain...podcaster... Tis a lame excuse, but there's no ignoring that his exiting my new main source of music swiftly paused any NY discovery that may have taken place in the last few years. And now I'll have to revisit that unintentional stance, because this album GOES!! It reminds me a lot of Rumours with the change in styles that it plays with, the numerous standards packed in, and the fact that it ends with a complete barnburner. Sometimes, as I'm wont to find out with this project, classic 70s albums can be underwhelming, and in other cases, they end up more in tune with your current taste than they ever were when you first heard them. Here's to a new stage of our relationship, Neil.

Fun fact: If you're reading this, you should listen to Molly Drake if you never have before. Album #4. I've felt extremely spoiled with the albums I've been provided the past few days, which may contribute to this one's (surprisingly) more average rating. However, I claim that it perhaps isn't the best place to start with this artist's work, and while Drake's guitar playing is extremely effective in its textures and percussiveness, I found myself unexpectedly wishing for a stronger melodic strain. That said, the combination of emotions and talent are impossible to deny, and I hope that I'll get to review his other albums for this project.

Fun fact: My mother's favorite Van Halen song is "Jump". Album #5. I found it almost a relief to find an unserious album in the queue for the first time--probably part of what contributed to my overall enjoyment of it--but 1984 was also just fun to discover. I went in with low expectations, and while "Panama" may not have been dethroned as my favorite VH song, I found a new level of appreciation for this band experiencing its formula through a new lens. Perfect to drive to early in the morning, even if the back half does fall off, and a surprisingly effective turn into the new wave era that many other bands couldn't manage. Shrieks and punchy drum rounds abound, if that happens to not be your thing. If you aim for unseriousness in daily life like me, however, you just might get something out of it.

Fun fact: I knew about Ozzy before I knew about Black Sabbath. If I have kids, that will be amended. Album #6. Of all of the popular late 20th century music genres I can think of, metal is definitely on the side of those I'm less acquainted with. I can name up to a dozen songs, have only actively heard a few artists, and have never in my memory heard a full metal album. Luckily, however, the band I've become most acquainted with from the scene is probably one of the best, most essential picks, and I happen to actually really enjoy their music! It's Black Sabbath! Who could've guessed. I knew this album would be good, but I didn't expect it to work so well for me in a variety of settings. Alongside being a perfect album to trudge around and bang one's head to, it's also surprisingly effective study music! The shredding is intense, the progression generally remains steady and interesting, and you can reach out and pull the atmosphere around you like a weighted blanket. A great album for a Friday. I still don't know where to start with metal (and with this project going on, I'm not sure if I want now to be my deep dive) but I can now say I have a favorite band.

Fun fact: my most high profile exposure to Duke Ellington thus far has been playing Caravan in a high school jazz ensemble. I was on bass. Album #7. Jazz, like metal, is another genre that I’m not very familiar with, though taking music for four years has given me more of an exposure to the former. I’m willing to admit that when I saw this album, I didn’t exactly have high hopes, as while I have cataloged memorable jazz songs, no one album has particularly stood out to me. This, umm….this changed that. From the first breath of the musicians, this recording took mine away. This is life-affirming music, music that could be serving in the background but rewards immensely if paid attention to. This is music to be played loud so you can mosh, sway, and groove to it alone at home or (I wish) with your closest friends. This is music that makes a mockery of any album that uses a brass instrument and calls itself jazz. This is music that humiliates “big band” music that’s really just loud music. Life-changing solos, impeccable swings, and trance-inducing melodies are contained within. After hearing the LP version, I was actually tempted to start again with the hours-spanning complete edition. I’ve been converted. Gonna put it on right now perhaps. Long live the Duke and his horde of life-givers. I really don’t care that it’s not live.

Fun fact: Disney World queue lines are not the best place to attempt serious album listening. Don't worry, I came back to it later. Album #8. Unfortunately, I've never quite caught the Blur virus beyond their few ocean-crossing singles, which I will admit to loving wholeheartedly. Yes, even "Song 2". There was a chance of this completely winning me over, but it's difficult for me to holistically appreciate it outside of the context of the overall discography. Blur is a good album, but you can hear that it's an experiment, even if "Beetlebum" puts a foot confidently forward in the intended direction. Plus, it's still jarring to hear Albarn singing on a track that isn't remotely connected to Gorillaz. It's like seeing young adult photographs of one of your parents. Some moments and ideas popped out of the mix, but I'm not cultured enough to appreciate this yet.

Fun fact: there was a brief period of time in which I called The Cure my favorite band despite knowing less than a dozen songs by them. As much as I loathe that principle, I find there's something endearing about its innocence. Album #9. As much as I admire what's going on here, I tend to prefer The Cure in tight pop mode, which I think is fair given that mode has produced some of the best singles of all time. Still, this has impeccable (impeccable!) atmosphere for days, even if the languid song structure can feel repetitive. Most of these tracks taken in isolation are perfectly devastating; put them together and I start to feel lost. Still, this is more than just an early influence, it's a fully-formed work on its own, and I'm glad to have finally heard it.

Fun fact: I had to look up how this thing was formatted on a vinyl. Apparently it's split across two sides like normal? It would be cool if it all fit on one side and the other side was some design. Album #10. The tracks all sound the same. The refrains bounce off the walls. The vocalist clearly wants you to feel something. The subject matter resembles graffiti. The drums never stop. The cover art is sneering at you. The longest song is 1:35. The needle lifts by the time you've thought to think about it. It's timeless. No notes.

Fun fact: the only proper concert T-shirt I possess is from a Billy Joel show. January 2020. There, he played five songs from The Stranger, including my then-favorite, "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant", and my now-favorite, "Vienna". I have the setlist saved as a Spotify playlist. Album #11. This guy gets a lot of flak--and maybe it's for good reason at times--but beyond being a nostalgic cornerstone for me, I'm gonna attempt to justify why this deserves the four stars. Actually, I'm not gonna bother with the prose. He may be objectively inferior to Springsteen, but Billy can still write a fine hook, and this album is full of them. A tight 42 minutes with nine tracks, seven of which I was already well acquainted with. This thing, and dare I say Billy Joel in general, rocks, and I hope to see him again in this project.

Fun fact: for some reason, I think I listened to Karen O's album with Danger Mouse before I ever consciously listened to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I really don't know how that happens. Album #13. Going into week three of this project, I figured it was time to get serious about my music criticism, at least as much as I can "get serious" about anything at my age. Specifically, I discovered that I was unable to change my album ratings, and thought that my four star rating was getting a little trigger happy. A few of these albums earned the rating in my eyes, and a few others merely made it by being...I don't know, significant? Which is what all of these are supposed to be. So, I sat down to this one with that resolution in mind, and look where we are. Going forward, this will be a four-star benchmark for me. I wasn't expecting it to be that, having had a peachy three-star in mind to break the previous streak, but it really is. Here's why: This thing HITS. I realized through a mini-dive into the history of this band that this is their debut album, and while that makes sense in my mind my heart can't believe it. The songs and concept are too fully formed, the lyrics too smart and snappy, and the emotions are too timeless. It's a fiery pressure cooker until the emotions flow in the opposite direction in the loving, but equally intense seven-and-a-half minute centerpiece. "Maps" is a perfect song, we all know this, but I never knew it transitioned into the euphoric, tightly constructed "Y Control" to create a crest of pure craft. Even having grown up with the former, I now can't decide which song i prefer. Nevertheless, glad to know I'll be encountering the YYY's again in this project. Karen O is a god.