Reasonably well mixed album. That said the lyrical content leans more on the side of edgy cringe than genuine angst. The sound is hard and heavy, but the punch pulling softens the overall appeal.
A polarizing double LP, and one suspects that is intentional. It is bookended by excellent funk tracks, but the entire center of the project is taken up by feverish and at times incoherent instrumentation. I would call it more prog rock than krautrock on this particular project. As another reviewer put it, the long tracks sound like the inner turmoil of a trip gone bad; perhaps the "Mushroom" Damo sings of is one that has twisted the psyche of the day tripper into something resembling a horror soundtrack. Food for thought.
A good example of an album with radio hits not equalling up to being a "good album". Despite the competent musicianship of the band and relatively quality mixing, Axl Rose's singing is entirely unpalatable, only growing more and more grating over time. In addition, nearly every song concerns either women/sex or drugs, and has nothing particularly deep, interesting or notable to say about either. The album feels longer than it is, with only Rose's screeching preen and the literal sounds of fucking to keep you company. It is telling that the longer I reflected on this album, the more it offended my sensibilities.
Turned off at track 6. I am the same age now that Ms. Mitchell was when she recorded this project, and I couldn't feel like I relate less to another human being than I do to her and this album listening to it in this present moment. A bunch of free verse, strummy bullshit with lyrics that sound like they were written by a teenager with their head in the clouds; more aptly a woman with little discretion and even less shame living in a free love fantasy world. Absolute dogshit.
Reasonably well mixed album. That said the lyrical content leans more on the side of edgy cringe than genuine angst. The sound is hard and heavy, but the punch pulling softens the overall appeal.
Lacks the punch and violence, the grittiness of their first two efforts. Reads more as a vehicle for Reed's pop songwriting efforts, but picks up somewhat at the end. Not bad, but the VU can do better.
The album is overly long and overly experimental in places, and suffers for it by being inconsistent. It is well-mixed, some of it sounds very fresh, and Deltron has good features on it. Gorillaz will get better and more refined over time.
A solid effort but ultimately nothing here shines above the rest. Polished, well-produced for what is ostensibly a live album. Cobain sometimes falters vocally. Not entirely "unplugged" as it were.
Inconsistent is a good word. For every hit there are probably two pieces of filler that could have been cut; therefore this double LP feels more akin to multiple EPs from individual artists. Mixing is also somewhat primitive. Fat needs trimmed; doesn't even feel like a conventional Beatles album. Low point: "Don't Pass Me By."
In a word: overbearing. Kiedis's vocals wear down the avid listener. Frusciante and Flea provide ample jams as always. Overly long and not always consistently listenable. Far from the worst RHCP have to offer.
Springfield's voice shines through smooth as silk. Beautifully executed and articulated adult contemporary that is sweet and to the point and never patronizes the listener. A true gem.
A solid rocker from start to finish, sweet and to the point. E. Van Halen's insistence upon cheesy Yamaha-tinged synth throughout means some songs wear thin on modern ears. Not as hot & heavy as some Roth-era VH.
Hetfield's voice is interminable and this record offends the senses with non-stop samey droning guitars with none of the same violence and character of their previous thrash work. Dismal listening.
Positively grating. Gartside has overloaded this album with his wavery attempt at a Prince-like voice and an assault of synthesizers in stereo. An album that would garner strange glances if jammed at a party.
Redding + Stax production = absolute gold. Gorgeous quality of recording and the finest studio musicians, along with the soulfulness and depth of Redding's wearied voice all combine to create a sound that is still fun and lush on the ears decades later. Wonderful.
An excellent debut by Costello; the variety on display leaves the listener excited, and though early in his career, this would signal much to come. Costello's vocals matched with Doobie Brothers & Huey Lewis alums + Nick Lowe's production equal a fantastic listening experience.
With a surprisingly modern sound for its time and fantastic production quality there is little negative to say about this LP aside from there aren't what I would call any exceptional hits, though there are minor misses. Black Francis's varied tone and harsh lyricism pay off with clean mixing which creates a gritty soundscape appropriate for the move into the 1990s.
A cold and clinical but simultaneously bright and hopeful early synthpop record. Always smooth to listen to with not a harsh note for the ears, almost to a fault. Attentive listening is advised, but may prove difficult to those with short attention spans. Famously one of Ian Curtis's favorite records - sets an excellent mood. Its primary flaw is that it may not be a mood one is actively seeking out.
Common benefits greatly here from the production and features of Kanye West. Beats range from heavy booms to 70s horns - not to ill effect, because the entire LP flows smoothly. Common's lyricism is grounded; while the album can certainly be bumped, there's more to glean between the lines.
The Doors reaching their peak. Production is tight and heavy, with side A in particular kicking off with the meaty "Roadhouse Blues" and twangy attacks of "Waiting for the Sun." Everything sounds clean, and importantly, talented studio bassists fill an essential hole present in some early Doors material. A record that speeds by under 40 minutes and wastes no time on its concise cuts.
An unfortunately somewhat weak beginning to the Temptations' foray into psychedelia; side A is relatively inconsequential fluff (with a confusing potential message about drug abuse?) and a rather poor cover of "I Heard it Through the Grapevine"; side B moves into more traditional Temptations material, though none of it particularly memorable. This LP doesn't hurt the ears, but it also doesn't inspire, with relatively weak stereo mixing and a lack of funk and oomph subsequent Temptations records would have.
Peak "teenage dirtbag" energy. Raw sounds, discordant tones, and the overall sweat-and-grit feel of a Harmony Korine film (or maybe an early Kevin Smith flick for those with a lighter palate). Captures a solid chunk of the psychic feel of the early 90s. Some of this LP can prove harsh on the ears, which some may not appreciate - but it's mixed to thrill, like a smoke cruise in a used sedan with a group of good friends.
This LP starts off somewhat weak, vocals mixed too low and not playing fully into the "quiet-to-loud" aesthetic; the second half pays this off, starting with the nasally but intense vocals on "Washer" and the roaring climax of "Good Morning, Captain". Tracks are long on this six-song LP and the mood is somber. Were it more consistent in the quality of sound, Spiderland would be a stronger showing.
Hendrix and the Experience recorded this double LP amidst turmoil and a frenzied state of party - to the point that Jimi's producer had to cut him off - and it shows in the output. Much of the album is dedicated to long unfocused jamming, rife with ear-shattering toms, loud hissing feedback (in stereo no less) and aimless blues riffs. It succeeds in pulling at the emotions of its listener, however, and those tracks which are tight really rip, obviously amongst which "Watchtower" and the "Voodoo Child" refrain shine brightest. It is exceptionally loud, occasionally quite clunky, and it meanders too long. The sound however is unmistakable and one cannot help but groove along at the peaks.
Prince is incredibly horny on this double LP, dripping with Oberheim synth and Linn drums, as well as Prince's signature funk guitar. It might be dismissed as merely "an album to fuck to," but that would be doing the tone a disservice; the breadth of sound the man arranged himself dances on the ears, to the point where you can feel the plucking of chords. Infinitely danceable, the project begins strong and ends strong, with maybe the only weak link being "All the Critics Love U in New York". Overall a fantastic showing by the Minneapolis Madman, may he rest in peace.
Simultaneously rough and tender, this LP is probably the White Stripes' opus of the garage rock sound before moving onto more diverse musical pastures. With nothing but Jack White's guitar and Meg White's kit, the sound is still layered in such a way that nearly every track blankets the ears. Some may not like Meg's somewhat mousy vocals on "In the Cold, Cold Night" and the record ends on a somewhat corny duet with singer Holly Golightly, but the rest of the album, dripping with love lost, is a driving treat.
An LP with very lush arrangement, ultimately let down by the corniness of its lyrics and the age of its aesthetic. Without any electric guitar, and with more sultry things to say about love without all the cheese, it could have gone further. That said, the LP is dulcet and inoffensive to the ears, and relatively well-produced.
Turned off this LP halfway through the second side after suffering through my ears being shattered on the first. Terrible mixing means being absolutely assaulted by undetailed guitar noise at all times, blitheringly pretentious lyrics, a corny and unhelpful gospel choir parroting Cave's lurid voice constantly. Incredibly long with nothing but vague meandering at all times and the same same same same same tone means I didn't know when one song led into the next. Horrid.
A masterpiece of 90's sound. Captures the anger, angst and complications of a twenty-something in that decade with walls of lush instrumentation produced by singer Corgan himself. It is a long and ambitious double LP, but unlike some projects, it flows from mood to mood, emotion to emotion, without ever feeling like it overstays its welcome. Furious angry guitars and vocals give way to delicate acoustics and soft melodies by Corgan, Iha & co. Deserves every bit of critical acclaim it has received, and sounds every bit as fresh today as it did nearly 30 years ago.
"Eminently danceable slam poetry." Mark E. Smith's ferocious Mancunian spoke-sung vocals meld with the tight, exacting musicianship of the then-current members of the Fall to create a fabulously produced, if somewhat difficult to understand, LP. A few off-putting tracks like "Light/Fireworks" and the bonus "Why Are People Grudgeful?" detract somewhat from the cohesiveness of the experience, but overall this is some of the Fall's most approachable material.
A project which would work infinitely better if adapted into a stage play or film, but which simply doesn't captivate as an audio-only presentation. As another reviewer put it, it seems to work better as background than as active listening material. The instrumentation from the various players is excellent, Krause's voice does warm on the listener over time, and there are several poignant songs such as "Song of a German Mother," but this is cabaret music, and it needs more energy than this medium can offer. Not something that I would likely listen to again.
Side A of the LP, the "Tarkus" suite, is absolutely fantastic prog. Side B on the other hand is about half okay numbers, half keyboard waffling with awful lyrics and/or questionable content (what the hell is "Jeremy Bender" on about, transsexual nun noncery?). The musicianship is brilliant when it works, and the eponymous track counts for a lot (considering it is more than half the album's runtime) but ELP needed to put more thought into what else was going on this project.
Cash displays a great amount of passion, emotion and humility on this live LP, even when the band goes slightly out of time or when his vocals falter in pitch, with each performance punctuated by the roaring of the prison crowd so eager to hear him sing and tell his anecdotes. The sound is as strong as could be expected given the venue and time period, though on the original LP the track list is cut rather short compared to the full concert. A strong showing by Cash & co.
For 1969, this LP was a powerhouse of blues rock - and it remains so today, especially in the powerful bass of John Paul Jones and Bonham's roaring drums. Mixing is somewhat flat; understandable given the period it was recorded and how quickly & cheaply it was done, but it leaves Page's brilliant guitar work somewhat lacking. There is a certain coarseness to the sound that Zep will smooth out over time, and there are no great epics. Nonetheless Zep I is still an astounding LP.
Difficult to listen to at times, but still fascinating in its experimental sound and ability to create a dark, ominous mood with nearly every track courtesy of the harsh, buzzing oscillation of the primitive synth sound, not to mention the bloodcurdling screams on "Frankie Teardrop". That said, mere artistic merit will not warrant multiple listens, and this is generally too grim and unpleasant overall - not in an awe-inspiring way, but a dingy, dirty, diseased one.
A very solid LP with lush instrumentation unfortunately somewhat overshadowed by some of Queen's stronger efforts to come shortly after. There are several memorable tracks but the eclectic nature of the overall sound does detract somewhat from the cohesiveness of the project, which itself was made in quite a rush. Highlights are "Killer Queen," "In the Lap of the Gods" and its reprise, and a personal favorite, the interlude "Dear Friends".
A very potent, angry sound; almost a sonic cross between the romantic instrumentation of Roxy Music and the bombast and nasal tone of the Jello-led Dead Kennedys. Musically it reminds one of the frustration of the excess of the disco era, music about the reality of hip, disaffected young people away from the gloss of pop. Magnificent.
A polarizing double LP, and one suspects that is intentional. It is bookended by excellent funk tracks, but the entire center of the project is taken up by feverish and at times incoherent instrumentation. I would call it more prog rock than krautrock on this particular project. As another reviewer put it, the long tracks sound like the inner turmoil of a trip gone bad; perhaps the "Mushroom" Damo sings of is one that has twisted the psyche of the day tripper into something resembling a horror soundtrack. Food for thought.
As a disclaimer, I have virtually no knowledge of Brazilian Portuguese. If I did, the lyrics of Ben Jor's songs might have more impact. That said, this LP is so funky that even without an understanding of the vocal contextuality I can certainly appreciate it. For 1976 this record is every bit as funky as James Brown or Bootsy Collins. Traditional Brazilian sounds combine with electric guitar and wah-wah to create grooves that are impossible to resist. Even Rod Stewart had to rip this record off. Top marks.
A very youthful sounding LP; that is, the sort of record you could imagine as part of the soundtrack to an American slice of life drama/comedy. Evokes thoughts of quickly smoked cigarettes, wind-swept hair and late night drives in dodgy cars. That said, the sound does stay rather samey; if it were a little more adventurous with its tones, this LP could score a bit higher.
There's something about this project I can't put my finger on. The higher energy songs sound plasticky, and the slower songs sound silly - that is, everything on this double LP is a bit too clean and overproduced for what the intended tone seems to be. Adams's voice is without flaw or character, seemingly without region. The project has no grit or lasting poignancy to match its time of release. If Bowie made plastic soul, is this then "plastic Americana"?
A good example of an album with radio hits not equalling up to being a "good album". Despite the competent musicianship of the band and relatively quality mixing, Axl Rose's singing is entirely unpalatable, only growing more and more grating over time. In addition, nearly every song concerns either women/sex or drugs, and has nothing particularly deep, interesting or notable to say about either. The album feels longer than it is, with only Rose's screeching preen and the literal sounds of fucking to keep you company. It is telling that the longer I reflected on this album, the more it offended my sensibilities.
A quality taste of what's to come with Arctic Monkeys. Youthful and energetic on every track, with strong mixing to compliment - AM here feels like Britain's answer to the garage and alt sounds of White Stripes & the Strokes, and strongly contrasts with some of the sloppy Britpop that preceded it. That said, not every composition works perfectly, and some of the lyrical colour later AM records would have is missing here. Still a solid showing.
As if Dre needed to prove himself further, his debut Death Row LP showcases some of the flyest beats of the 90s - "that old school motherfuckin' gangsta shit." Some may not be fans of the genre or the harshness of the content but this is pure, well-produced gangster rap. Snoop may be a bit of a poseur, and there may be some excessive talk of testicles in mouths, but one can still bump this in their '64 today (now approved as a legacy recording by none other than the Library of Congress).
Being unfamiliar with Morrison's wider body of work this LP was incredibly refreshing - rather than a "sung vocal" his voice here acts more as an additional instrument which influences the overall tone and mood of each track. For 1968 the production quality is absolutely fantastic: strings and light percussion bounce cleanly and effortlessly off of the ear. Everything drips in baroque sorrow as well as carefree arabesque reflective of the time in which it was made. Soft on the ears, and a joy to listen to.
By the standards of its day this LP may have been interesting (although I would argue that much free jazz and even conventional jazz, as well as movements overseas in Japan, South America, etc. were more exciting even at the time), but listening now this project is rather dull, unexciting and inoffensive. The musicianship is competent (especially the drumming and bass work), but largely this LP would work swimmingly as background music for a weather report (no pun intended). Fairly forgettable fare, but not bad or incompetent.
A solid showing by all involved on this LP; it starts off somewhat rough (the Edwin Starr cover making me think my headphones were broken) but smooths out into luxurious funk courtesy of the Funk Brothers. Ironically it is the Temptations' vocals which prove often to be the weak points, unable to hit the crisp highs and rumbling lows necessary for peak emotional punch (see "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"). Still, overall an enjoyable listen.
Such a cool project compared to so much of the fluffy pop and R&B on the scene at its time. Simultaneously brusque and thoughtful, grim and serene. The band manages to produce busy soundscapes which are complimentary, still appealing to the ear, yet the anger behind so many of the tracks is still evident. An awesome listen, and a clear inspiration to many alternative & post punk acts after.
Unusual to see a compilation LP. Ultimately the sound production is quite competent, as is the playing of the band; my primary point of contention is the homogeneity of the sound, where the coarse garage punk aesthetic blends together from track to track which when taken in concert with the muddy vocals leads the individual tracks to not stand out much from one another. Still, a decent enough time for some energetic listening.
A bastard child of the Loudness Wars, incredibly compressed and blown out sound across the board. Thankfully Oasis still have good enough musicianship to shine through; ultimately though, Noel Gallagher was not Paul McCartney (much as he might wish he were) and the arrangements on here just come across as wanting to sound deeper than they are, and also so busy as to muddy the ear. Nothing offends (other than the gain level) and "Champagne Supernova" remains a perennial airwave favorite. It's just kinda boring, y'know?
R.E.M. indeed; "Music to Sleep Through" would be an apt title. I have no nostalgic love for the group, and indeed haven't really liked much of what I have heard from them. This was simply a reinforcement of those opinions. Much of the same tip-tap drumming and strummy "feel goodness" melts through the entire LP and does absolutely nothing for me. Sounds like safe music for uninteresting suburbanites. Musicianship is competent. Stipe's vocals are interminable. All is meh. PS - listening to "We Walk" and "West of the Fields" ruined what little good will I had remaining for this album, *not good*
The VU at their experimental peak courtesy of the fabulous John Cale (and a good deal of his "jetliner" viola). After the sheen and serene of "Sunday Morning" which just about evokes the feelings of lingering on in the early hours after a drug fueled evening - that is, reveling in the afterglow - the listener is treated to everything that leads to that point from Reed's view of the seedy streets of NYC, including scoring and shooting up some horse. The soundscape is occasionally chaotic, but such is life; the same can be said of Nico's almost robotic vocals, which add some character with their drone. An absolute emotional tour de force; imagine being such a square that you don't "get" it?
Beck without any of the edge and/or whimsy. There are solid tracks on this LP ("Paper Tiger," "Lost Cause," "Already Dead") but the overall impression is: huge orchestration for sadsack songs that Beck sloughs together, singing as though he has a handful of loose change in his mouth. Ultimately the project's sin is that without anything clever (and everything dispairing) to say, nothing greatly catches the attention, and nothing lingers too long. Very dour.
Concept album or no, this LP clearly has a message about the difference between personal faith and "religiousness." It can come across as somewhat pretentious, but if you take it as gospel, you're missing the point. Besides all that, the instrumentation of this incarnation of Jethro Tull, as well as some brilliant mixing, make for a gorgeous listen. It's perhaps not an "anytime" album, but it is certainly one I will return to and reflect on semi-frequently in the future. PS - After listening again to some of the LP, the gorgeous arrangements - how delicate things are, and the cleverness of some of the lyric - all has worked to convince me to move this to a 4.5/5, which I will graciously round up. A stunning project.
Highly energetic; one can't help but get up and move, and the repetitious rhythms are almost, to an extent, hypnotic. That said: vocal performances are limited, as the emphasis is primarily on the congas specifically, and while very grooving, the sound gets overly familiar after a while. Nowhere near bad, but not thought-provoking enough for frequent listening.
The kids aren't just alright; they're out here making politically conscious music. This LP shows the world the punks have something to say, and they say it in style: the musicianship and raw vocal stylings on this project meld together with the variety of genres touched up on and some excellent production to produce music both thoughtful and worth tapping your toes to. Given the state of Britain at the time, it isn't too surprising. Personal favorites: "Spanish Bombs" and "Lost in the Supermarket".
"Dated" is a good word for the sound of this LP. Not in its politics - though it sounds as though Simon did act rather callously by some of his fellow musicians and advice-givers - but in its slappy, caged drums, "bwah" bass, prose-like lyrics. Some tracks are stronger than others, like the hymnal sounds of "Homeless" but overall, this is super 80s. Let the South Africans send a message instead of singing crappy poetry over them.
Mixed feelings. I have no real attachment to the band or this LP, so I feel as though I can be honest: it starts off dull. Once we reach "The Weight," everything there and after is excellent. The issue is however that "The Weight" remains the only song that really sticks in my mind, since so much of the project is the realization of jamming and vibing with Dylan. This is good Americana (for Canadians) but it's a bit fast and loose for my tastes. (PS - stop rating the deluxe/expanded issues of these albums yeah? seems only fair to rate them as close to how they released as possible)
An Englishman with the intonation of Johnny Cash and the crooned melodies of Bacharach. Gorgeously gravelly adult contemporary pop with some real feel and emotion behind it. Surprisingly enjoyable on a mellow sort of night, though obviously not the most upbeat of music. Thoroughly good. The ending, though, might drift you off to sleep~
Nothing but Bruce, his guitar and mouth harp, and a portable 4-track. The vocals are raw, spacious, chilling. Where many may look at Springsteen as an arbiter of bombast, this LP shows his appreciation for the American backwater, haunted with old crimes, hard memories, beater cars and spooky midnight drives. The project deserves to be looked at as a fine pastiche of Western Americana - you wouldn't play "State Trooper" at your wedding or house party, but you can certainly reflect on it. Thoughtful and morose.
Absolutely beautiful LP. The musicianship is fantastic throughout, and Chris Cornell's voice is absolutely incomparable throughout, both in its power and range (may he rest in peace). Common complaints seem to be that it is too long and too samey; I couldn't disagree less. I would happily listen to a double LP straight through if it contained material that was all as dynamic, interesting and thoughtful as this project was. The absolute acme of grunge - and it's almost a disservice to this album to even label it at all. Brilliant stuff, through and through.
To preface, I have done many, many drugs. None of them sucked as much as this. This is a wholly vile cacophony of noise, a thousand musicians making a mockery of what Brian Wilson so ably did in the studio 40 years earlier by comparison. Loud horns, loud harmonicas, bad energy throughout. If this is intended to be reminiscent of a bad trip, it succeeds, and I no longer wish to listen.
Serviceable house music one supposes, with a few decent tracks ("Red Alert", "Bingo Bango", "Being With U") though I contend: why would anyone want to listen to this when they could listen to Daft Punk of the same era, with a cleaner sound and less grime to it? Maybe I just haven't taken enough ecstasy.
If this album doesn't make you feel young, I don't know what will. Very freewheeling style, with pounding beats and topical lyricism. I get the feeling James Murphy and I wouldn't agree on politics, but I can certainly feel the mood he's setting here on this LP. Occasionally his vocals fall a bit flat or the sentiments are a bit distasteful, but overall it's quite a mood. And that mood says you should probably put a few more pills in you.
Stunning. Having never really given Yusuf a serious listen before I was surprised at how deep and touching this project was. The production is minimal and crisp - guitar which sounds as though the man is in the room playing just for you. Serious ponderings about faith, love and death - the whole thing reads almost like the cycle of life, with the tillerman's tea a cup of burgundy at the end. A heart-swelling listen.
A bunch of meandering hippie nonsense that sounds incredibly hypocritical coming from a group that was falling apart and couldn't stand recording with one another in between alcohol benders and heroin blowouts. Still, it is mellow and easy to listen to, and mercifully short - probably short enough to fit on one side of an LP if you hate money.
A pretty smooth listen, and recorded in pretty good quality for '64. That said, even for its time it seems it would have been a little dated in sound, with Beatlemania and the hippies right around the corner. Still, it's peak clean East Coast soul, and Burke probably deserves more recognition for that powerful voice.
Incredibly chill and welcoming music. Not always my cup of tea, but the instrumentation by the New Wailers is incredibly delicate and balances out Bob's impassioned voice. Definite religious inspiration shining throughout the entire project, which I can totally dig, and can understand from a man who just survived an assassination attempt. Well worth listening to.
Starts off rather spicy and interesting, good syncopation, and seems to taper off a bit through the runtime. Is the LP bad? No, absolutely not. Admittedly I was in a bit of a dour mood to listen to it, but it never grabbed onto my attention. It makes for excellent background ambience, but I wish it could have slapped me and said more. Still, cool summer vibes.
I would say, if anything, this LP is like a paean to teenage angst - love, lust, loss, carefree excitement. It worked for the mood I was in. The mixing is a little overly loud, but not ear shattering, and everything that is meant to be heard can be. "Mr. Brightside" has been played to death and is nowhere near the best song on this project. But do you also play the tambourine and go hard?
Wicked. Such a cool blend of disco grooves and post punk sensibilities, where not a single sound is wasted - production so fine every lick can be heard and nothing is lost. Byrne rattles away joyfully on every track with huge vocal leaps, getting lost in strange romance and bemoaning how modern comforts are taken for granted. The art student's alternative - less gritty than Lou Reed, poppier than Joy Division, and with a brain and a pulse, too.
"David Bowie produces krautrock with guest vocalist Iggy Pop." That's not a negative sentiment, it's badass. Bowie is the king of cool, always knowing how to capitalize on trends, and Iggy is genuine punk (though he hates the term) - their combined experiences meld fantastically and create a coarse, grimy soundscape bemoaning the world the pair wish to escape from. Favorites: "Nightclubbing", "China Girl", "Mass Production".
Imagine, if you will, sharing a spliff with Dennis Hopper, talking about traveling the world, mysticism, American grit. People know you from The Byrds, but you're here to make your own statement about religion and human connection, and it's gonna have a strong country twang. This is Neil Young and George Harrison's joint Americana album. It is lush, soft and smooth, like crushed velvet stained with cigarette ash.
Challenging. There are aspects of this project I quite liked - it's angry, biting, driving. My issues lay in Ant's willowy vocals, repetitive lines and some particularly weak tracks (see "Jolly Roger"). Closer to punk than anything. Well worth listening to, even if it won't be frequent rotation material.
A surprising texture. In theory Morrissey's nasally, feminine voice shouldn't gel well with how hard the rest of the band goes with some of the instrumentation, but it just comes together interestingly well. Definite surf rock inspiration, strong post-punk vibes. Mixing is excellent and nuanced, and overall the LP is pretty bopping, for lack of a better term. "Meat is Murder" is unfortunately a pretty dour ending, but it's pleasant enough to listen to anyway.
If I were slamming down Ritalin, I'd probably make an overly long, somewhat self-indulgent album also. It is impressive, to be sure, that with production help Rundgren recorded the majority of this double LP himself; that said there's plenty of material on here that doesn't qualify as "essential listening," closing track "Slut" included. Still, when it works, it does work, and there's some unique sounds for the time it was released. Favorites: "I Went to the Mirror", "Little Red Lights"
I had to sit and contemplate it briefly, but I think this project is really cool. The first half harkens back to Eno's more energetic rock/pop efforts, and the second half bridges into more future synth/ambient territory. I'm not as big a fan of that first half, but the transition into "Julie With..." is absolutely chilling, and followed by the lovely but dark "By This River". Everything Eno touches turns a shade of gold, and this is no exception.
Snazzy and jazzy. One can easily imagine Burroughs and Kerouac gelling out to this classic jazz. "Blue Rondo" has always reminded me of Final Fantasy battle music. Otherwise the sounds are very evocative; that is, they readily paint pictures of vivid old scenes in one's mind. Everything is beautifully captured on tape. A deserved classic.
A project which might have better captured the early Floyd freewheeling spirit if not for two aspects: one, EMI producers not understanding the band's style, and two, Barrett's rapidly declining mental health. There are moments of brilliance here and there, but overall too much of the project is wasted on waffling away at discordant tones or unappealing gimmick tracks which overutilize studio trickery - also worth mentioning is the downright heinous stereo effects popping in and out on occasion. The band is solid, but hearing songs which sounds like the whisperings one would hear deep in the midst of a heavy acid trip is not entirely appealing. Not necessary for enjoying later Floyd works.
I question who this pseudo-intellectual nonsense is for. Most people who want to write shitty poetry aren't paid by a label and given studio time to do so, myself included. The songs are trite and overindulgent, gummed up with strings and heavy thesaurus work. I can imagine this being the sort of album someone from a "hip" place would claim to like to have "indie cred." Fucking nonsense.
Turned off at track 6. I am the same age now that Ms. Mitchell was when she recorded this project, and I couldn't feel like I relate less to another human being than I do to her and this album listening to it in this present moment. A bunch of free verse, strummy bullshit with lyrics that sound like they were written by a teenager with their head in the clouds; more aptly a woman with little discretion and even less shame living in a free love fantasy world. Absolute dogshit.
Incredibly solid jazz, including some ripping bass work by Scott LaFaro in his last recorded appearance. Being a relatively early live album however, and in a small venue at that, most of the recording is marred at least gently by the sound of patrons chattering and clinking in the background. Still, very classy listening, and smooth on the ears.
An absolute mood of an album. The other side of the triphop coin from the equally brilliant Massive Attack, every track on this project is sultry, smooth and sorrowful, perhaps mournful. Instrumentation is unique - listening is like enjoying burnt coffee on small platters in dingy French cafés on a diet of nothing but angst and unfiltered cigarettes. A treat for the ears and soul.
Polished Sabbath. They may have been flying high on grade-A coke for the entire album, but Iommi knew precisely what the sound should be from his seat in the booth. Compared to some sloppier work on Paranoid and Master of Reality, nearly everything on this project screams practice, despite the handicaps of a variety of intoxicating substances. From the driving "Wheels of Confusion" to the sorrowful piano of "Changes" and everywhere in between, little time is wasted, save for maybe "FX" and arguably the waffly "St Vitus Dance". A splendid effort.
Bowie on cocaine and mystic fervor. An incredibly solid effort with touches that linger perhaps a bit too long, however: the production is gorgeous. This project is the natural extension, the maturity of the plastic soul sound of Young Americans - a Bowie worried about aging, curses, forlorn loves. Every pluck of strings dances against the ears, every bound of the bass reverberates soundly. With more radio-friendly tracks this project could go a touch further, but it's still fabulous.
Very solid twangy American rock. CCR was cranking out the hits by keeping their heads clear, even though the run wouldn't last. If I had a complaint, maybe it's that the cuts are a little too samey? The guitar sound on this project sounds exactly like my grandpa's old Western band. All that said, the lyrics are actually kinda dark on some of the cuts for as cheery as the music sounds, and I can dig it. Not bad at all.
Racist nonsense. "I'm not the asshole, everyone else is!"
I don't understand the comments about this being "Starbucks music." Then again, I've never been to a Starbucks, so take that as you will. To me, to wit: this is fine easy listening/adult contemporary music - jazzy, with hints of western and blues. Incredibly smooth and easy on the ears, almost to a fault, but Jones's voice is flawless. It's slow, but not lifeless.
A very solid listen; noteworthy mid-60s psychedelia with strong musicianship from all involved, plus strong production for '67. The only issue is that the material is not consistently *strong*; that is, if every track were as poetic as "Tales of Brave Ulysses" and there were no filler, things would be all that much tighter. As it stands, it's worth one's time.
Charmingly dated. That is, half the instrumentals sound like 90s computer adventure game MIDI files being played out. I find the sound quite endearing, but I imagine others (especially those younger than me) might not. There are a few good key tracks ("Round & Round", "Dream Attack") but it just feels a little too 80s and a little too meh overall. Still, not a horrible listen.
I tried to put myself in 2004 listening to this. I pictured myself vibing on a late night bus or rail trip whilst high on oxycodone, with or without smoldering cigarette in my hand. In all seriousness there's an indescribable vibe, an overall angst to the tone which I appreciate. It isn't perfect - a lot of the overall tone and themes are repeated, but it's strong, and the musicianship is tight. Highlights: "Take Me Out", "Dark of the Matinée", "This Fire".
Some really good instrumental work soured by the fact that Lenny desperately thinking he sounds like Prince (spoiler: he doesn't). If the first half of this album had all the vocals scrubbed out, it would probably be a 5/5. As it stands, it drags on too long and only gets progressively lamer. It is what it is.
I felt a surprising depth beneath the surface of this project, something grim and lonely. That said, if it had leaned full bore into that aesthetic I feel like it would have been stronger overall. Mixed very loud, it is certainly bombastic, and KO's vocals don't falter really at all. I have no complaints, but nothing really sticks with me. Solid indie that I missed during my childhood.
I found this thoroughly unenjoyable and often entirely unintelligible. I am willing to admit that it is perhaps that I just don't "get it" but nonetheless I won't be listening again.
Highly personal but relatable LP from the perspective of a young person tackling the world on their own. Morissette's voice takes some... adjustment, perhaps, to get used to - there is some wobble, some wax, and the tone is inconsistent between songs. The instrumentation works, but all sounds kinda "generic 90s". Still, the project is solid on content, if not slightly too long. Worth a listen.
Who doesn't dig the sound of old Yamaha keyboards? More seriously though, I dig what's being rolled here, a blend of fun ska and rock but with incredibly grim lyrics about a rocky, disjointed society - that said, it is pretty dated sounding, and I'd be hard pressed to add any of these songs to my regular rotation. However, this is leagues away from the "unlistenable trash" some have proclaimed it to be. Tracks: "Man at C&A", "Stereotype, Pt. 1"
First: my, what a sound. Never have I heard such punchy sounds, tingly triangles and walloping saxophones. Second: this LP is much older than me, but I still feel that strong independent spirit - not in the "indie rock" sense, but in the "grit that built America" sense. Everything is played with bombast, and the Boss is top hoss. Tracks: "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out", "Jungleland"
Uhh... interesting, to be sure. Really sounds quite dated, it has that late 90s "rad video game music" vibe throughout, to the point where I think this can hardly be described as an "electronic rock" record. That said, I can see the direction they were going with it, and I don't absolutely hate it as I have some other projects here. If you don't dig that aimless electronica vibe (imagine driving around in a shitbox car, smoking with the windows up, probably high on speed) you probably won't "get it," man. Tracks: "Kowalski", "Medication"
Slow record. Much more of a Western vibe than I had expected based on what little of Cohen's work I was previously familiar with. Not much energy, nothing particularly novel or thought provoking. I can't do much more than give it a shrug.