Led Zeppelin and Nirvana’s bastard love child? Lotsa bass and drums, less distorto guitar and vocals. Pretty great stuff.
With side one bookended by two of their best songs ever, this is one of Rush’s strongest albums.
Rikki Don’t Lose That Number was literally my first introduction to Steely Dan as a 12 year old. Listening now, it’s a pretty great album. The songs are of a piece, except for East St. Louis Toodle-oo, which sounds out of place. Otherwise, this is a great exploration of the demimonde, albeit what you get when you’re California hipsters rather than the Velvets.
In an era where they didn’t really do albums, just the artist’s latest hit or two packaged up with absolute dross, this album holds together surprisingly well. This is doubly surprising since it was culled from multiple recording sessions over several years. Nice to see Fats get his due on the 1001 albums list, as he was criminally underappreciated during his prime.
Well I guess you had to be there. I wasn’t. The stars are for “Piece of My Heart”, a great song by any reckoning, “Turtle Blues”, and maybe “I Need a Man to Love”. The rest is the acid-addled musings of her backup band. Maybe this is why she went solo.
I certainly dismissed these guys out of hand as a young adult. They weren’t my jam. Listening 40 years on, I have to give them their due. The playing is really good even if the songs don’t really transcend the genre. Certainly speed metal and Metallica probably don’t end up sounding like they do without these guys.
Very good album. More covers than usual for Creedence, surprising since John was still writing ace tunes. Docked half a star for feeling the need to make an artistic statement with their sprawling 11 minute version of “Heard It Through the Grapevine”, 3 minutes of good single and 8 minutes of meandering psychedelic blues jam.
The voice is still in fine form, but I think this pales in comparison to his very fine late 50’s/early 60’s work.
This was a breath of fresh air when it came out, a snotty middle-fingered salute to teen angst. And it still sounds great 30 years later. The best of these still hit like a ton of bricks. Do you have the time to listen to me whine, indeed.
After trying and failing to out-Beatle the Beatles on “Their Satanic Majesties…”, this is the album where they just tried to be the best Stones they could be. This is a great album start to finish, and is a great leadoff to their classic 1968-72 period. What can a poor boy do?
In which our hero sets out to make a more laid-back Jayhawks album (or maybe they were making more uptight Neil Young records?). Seriously, this just gets down in the groove and rocks in a subdued electrified country-rock vein. He’s not trying to make a grand statement here, and he doesn’t have to. A very satisfying listen.
Not a bad album. Not a great album. I’m a little surprised this made the “1001 Albums…” list. They were better than they were given credit for, but certainly not the second coming of the Beatles.
The album that started it all. Elvis was one of the first of the angry young men to get his thoughts down on vinyl in the immediate post-punk era. This album, while having more of a country rock feel at times (this was recorded before he hooked up with The Attractions) courtesy of Huey Lewis’ then backing band Clover, still has all the EC trademarks: the wordplay, the snarl, and especially the anger at a world not made for him….or us. Great opening statement.
I’m guessing this made the list because this is the album where Madonna goes all personal and confessional. But I have to admit I like the boppy and brainless(-appearing; I know it’s an intentional illusion) Madonna of the first three albums. Here the best songs are the lightest. I know great art is often made from our emotional scars and injuries, but I can’t just call this album great art.
What did you want him to call it — “Soundtrack for a Movie Where Nothing Happens”?
Weird little album. Every time you think they’re about to play it straight some more weirdness breaks out. The instrumentation, percussion and mannered singing are jarring but in a good way. A jagged little anti-pop, almost-masterpiece.
I was ready to be disappointed when I got this album rather than Jailbreak. Happy to say I was not. This is a great album. Makes a fine introduction to an underappreciated band.
Usually SciFi concept albums are done in by contrived plots, bad lyrics and tunes that often sound like amelodic drones. Not so this album. Flaming Lips has come up with a great set of songs that are tuneful and rhythmic. The signature FL sound I first heard on “Vaseline” is still there. An enjoyable listen. Well done.
Face it, this is the album that propelled U2 from good not quite great to megastar status. Side one is chock full of big ringing anthems, their big swings connecting now rather than just missing like on past albums. Side two is a much quieter affair; at times sounds like they were trying to make a Stones album circa 1969. In summary, although I’ll take “Achtung Baby” over this one any day of the week, this album started them on the road to becoming the huge band they are now, and as such, must be given its due.
Not quite the revelation I was hoping for, but nonetheless a good album. ‘Another Girl, Another Planet’ remains a great single.
I know the critics fell all over themselves praising this when it first came out, put listening now I don’t hear it. It’s a pleasant enough country pop album. But I feel like it could have been so much more.
Quirky and fun. Doesn’t take itself too seriously.
My favorite REM album, this is a thoughtful meditation on life and loss.
Unfortunate that I randomly got two REM albums back to back. For me, this one pales next to AFTP. Some good songs, but doesn’t quite hang together as an organic whole. Just OK in the end.
Important transitional figure between Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan.
The most iconic riff ever? This one puts the heavy in Heavy Metal.
The remaining Minutemen regrouped as fIREHOSE following the death of D. Boon, with the addition of Ed ‘fROMOHIO’ Crawford. I can certainly hear the Minutemen in there, but the songs are in general less terse and more melodic than the usual M’s fare.
Cold cold cold. Couple of really good songs but overall just not my thing.
Peter Tosh steps out from the shadow of Bob Marley with his debut solo album. Good stuff, very listenable.
Well played, though I’m honestly still trying to wrap my head around why we need a great classical piece played by these guys. The “Pictures” tunes are at least not bad. The Tchaikovsky abomination “Nutrocker” at the end is a joke, however, bordering on unintentional parody. Almost docked a full star for that one.
Third album was the charm for Randy Newman, who really gets it right here. Great slice of life vignettes that sound as though they were written 50 years earlier, sung in Newman’s plaintive dry voice, accompanied by himself on piano or often brass band arrangements. This is Americana before there was such a thing.
Good stuff. A little samey-same.
Pretty good stuff. The voice itself is a bit of an acquired taste.
Might eventually merit more stars with more listens. There is something good in there. But in a format where you listen to and review an album a day, that ain’t happening. I think The Pixies and Throbbing Gristle might have been listening to these guys.
Extra half star for effort. But… meh.
Dire Straits/Mark Knopfler seemed destined to be remembered as competent journeymen until a couple of well timed/placed videos in the newish MTV format rocketed them into the stratosphere (see also, ZZ Top). Pleasant enough listening, though nothing earth shattering or that really moves the needle (see instead, Prince).
Another one that would probably get rated higher with some repeated listens. Earnest, punky.
The charms of these nice Scottish lads grew on me as I got farther into the album. However, the notion that these nice Scottish lads also write some of the most pedestrian lyrics on either side of the pond.
Whereas Guns ‘N’ Roses and Public Enemy were the late 80’s/early 90’s go to for young white makes wanting vicarious thrills, these guys actually walked it like they talked it. Or rapped it. While the constant unrelenting misogyny and hate gets old by the end of the album, the first three songs alone are a cleansing blast, and what they should be remembered for.
This was my intro to the Dead, about 12 years after the fact when I was in college. It’s a different kind of Dead album. No meandering jams, just ten well written reasonably concise songs. My favorite Dead album for exactly this reason.
Not sure how I missed this gem at the time.
Normally, I’m not a fan of this type of music, but this album was a fairly pleasant surprise. After the first few tunes, I was thinking a 4, but ultimately, it overstayed its welcome.
The album that broke him in America. Solid folky stuff in his unique voice.
My favorite EC album. His first with The Attractions. Great bass & drums from Bruce and Pete Thomas (no relation) and Steve Nieve’s nagging Farfisa organ driving the whole thing. And Elvis’ songs considerably up the ante from the first album. These are really angry songs of failed relationships and (mostly) personal betrayals, delivered with piss and vinegar combined with tongue-in-cheek. Lip service, indeed.
Having bought their first album some 35 years ago, I did have some hope that this might be a decent album. However, by a few songs in, those hopes were dashed. It seems they set out to make a power pop album, some 15 years after that was a thing. However, this album doesn’t seem to have a lot of power… or pop. The 14 turgid tunes go on far too long, rarely threatening to become interesting. Allegedly they were listening to and inspired by “Something Else“-era Kinks when they were writing/recording this album. Nope, don’t hear that either. I thought I might be giving it three stars after the first few songs; however, after this continued to drone on, the grade dropped to its current two stars. Wanted to dock it even further after having to watch the two videos on YouTube accompanying the albums singlesat the end of side one and beginning of side two. Really silly and terrible videos, the antithesis of what one should be doing with the format.
(Spoiler alert: Vassar Clements does not appear in this film). I complained in a previous review about Blur’s pathetic effort to make a power pop album in 1995. On the other hand, these guys set out to do exactly that, and succeed mightily. These are punchy, catchy tunes, delivered with just a little bit of snot. Fun, if ultimately inconsequential. Have to say I hated this cover. Gives the impression of one of those portraits where the eyes follow you.
They continue to carve out a consistent style based on old English folk tunes, with modern rock instrumentation, with their originals written to sound similar. It’s a good sound overall, although the unrelenting exclusive reliance on Sandy Denny for lead vocals (FREE RICHARD THOMPSON!) makes this too monochromatic for me.
Haven’t heard this in years, what a pleasant surprise! I get why this didn’t exactly knock people’s socks off at the time, but this is really a good album. Excellent observational songs, played confidently and well by a band that had come into its own.
Answers the question “What kind of music did Gene Clark want to make after leaving the Byrds?” But make no mistake, this is not the second coming of Sweetheart of the Rodeo. It’s really just OK. For a short album of only nine songs, it actually drags at points. Barely has a pulse at times. Comes to life in the last couple of songs.
She’s in good voice, excellent set of tunes, the combo plays well, and yet… this set doesn’t feel to me like it ever really catches fire. The crowd is way too polite, negating the fact that this is a live album. She might as well be sitting in a room at the library, rather than one of the great jazz clubs in Chicago. Will give it 3.5 stars in recognition of her overall value and talent.
In which Dwight Yoakam single-handedly recaptures the Bakersfield sound, even dragging the great Buck Owens along for a duet on “Streets of Bakersfield”. Pretty good stuff.
His voice and deadpan delivery are an acquired taste, but there is something to these songs that draws you in.
Unremittingly angry. And articulate. And chock full of some great sounds.
Promising start with the opening track “Celebrity Skin” picking right up where “Live Through This” left off, followed by the excellent and poppy “Awful”. After that it’s less of the same for me. This never reaches the level of anger and catharsis that made “Live Through This” so riveting. Still it’s a decent album, and I’ll give it a bonus half star for the mere fact of Courtney getting off the deck after several trying years (husband‘s death, bassist’s death, accusations that her husband wrote much of their breakthrough album, etc.). 3.5 stars rounded to 4.
Subtitled “A boy and his vocorder/phaser/flanger“. I think the 11th Commandment was THOU SHALT NOT BE BORING. If so, this young man unfortunately is going straight to Hell. Only a few tracks rise above pedestrian. Original rating 2.5 stars, docked 1/2 star for the first track sounding exactly like something I might hear if I were put on hold while on the telephone.
A pleasant surprise. Musically and rhythmically pretty listenable. In an 80’s musical world dominated by Britpop and heavily synthesized pop, this comes as a breath of fresh air. That said, the production on some of the early tracks is super muddy, such that you can barely hear the vocals. I assume this is intentional, but since these boys definitely have something to say, I find it distracting and think that this detracts somewhat from the overall experience, enough to keep it out of five star territory for me.
Just OK. The two pop covers don’t really work. The long story before the last track falls flat.
This kind of stuff is not usually my jam. That said, I’d give the playing a 4. The vocals on the other hand are a good solid 2 (I know, not the point with this genre). Lyrical content mostly silly, another solid 2 (unfortunately I think this is somewhat the point of the genre). Glad to have heard it; probably don’t need to hear it again.
Album seems to be backloaded quite a bit. Took me fully half of the album to start finding tunes I liked, then it seemed to get better after that. Obvious care and effort went into the making of this album, but still it mostly boils down to rhapsodizing about bitches and ho’s and my dick‘s bigger, minus the incessant references to murder and popping a cap in someone’s ass, which at least does elevate it above the usual gangsta rap fare.
Overall, this is an uneven album. Part two of the Ziggy trilogy gets off to a strong start with the Rolling-Stones-meet-Mott-the-Hoople rocker “Watch That Man” but then veers into the cocktail piano of “Aladdin Sane”. He recovers somewhat with the the nostalgic “Drive-in Saturday” before finishing side one with two strong Ziggy-style rockers: “Panic in Detroit” and “The Cracked Actor”. The former is easily the best thing on this album and is one of my favorite Bowie songs period.
Side two veers immediately into bad Cabaret territory with the melodramatic “Time” followed by the nostalgic camp of”The Prettiest Star”. I could see both songs being performed comfortably by Tim Curry in a production of Rocky Horror Picture Show. An ill-inspired/conceived/executed cover of the Stones’ “Let’s Spend the Night Together” does not improve things. He then gets back on track with the two side closers, “The Jean Genie”and “Lady Grinning Soul”. The former rocks pretty hard with its vamped baseline, and the latter, while veering dangerously close to Cabaret territory again, is at least a good song.
This is overall not. Bad album by any means, and there are some absolute gems here, his strong predilection towards bad Cabaret does finally cause me to downgrade this album. You could certainly do worse than to listen to this, but I think either’Hunky Dory’ or ‘Ziggy Stardust…’ are better introductions to the Bowie of this stage of his career.
Since he seems to be out to make anti-music, or at the very least, anti-pop, this is aurally fairly challenging to listen to. Credit for having the balls to do this in the first place, though I suspect this has not aged very well over the years.
Undeniably great. Black music of the 70’s (and beyond) owes much of its sound to this guy.
A set of sturdy tunes, delivered pleasantly enough by the artist. Sounds somewhat like a mating of Village Green-era Kinks with Richard Thompson. Unfortunately, both of them do this kind of thing better than Mr. Cale.
Unlike most of her posthumous releases, this one is not a closet cleaning, in fact was already in the can at the time of her untimely demise in late 1970. This shows her very comfortable and working well with her new(ish) band, Full Tilt Boogie. Nine absolutely great soulful performances, and the irritating (to me at least) “Mercedes Benz”. A true classic despite that one.
So I guess the concept is “music to get stoned by“? In a world where Pink Floyd exists, I’m not sure why we need to “invent“ a whole new genre for this activity. This album is tedious in the extreme. Almost every track overstays its welcome by several minutes. Which maybe you wouldn’t mind if you were stoned enough…
Songs are pleasant though the overall sound of the album lacks variety. Really disliked the album cover on this one, found it rather offputting.
Interesting album on a number of levels. Neil explicitly set out to challenge himself and his band by recording many of these tunes live (audience noise can be heard on multiple tracks, though this is not considered a live album) and then working on them further in the studio, ostensibly to forestall the “rust“ from setting in. Of course, anyone who has paid even passing attention to Neil Young knows that many things in Neil Young‘s career are done specifically to keep Neil Young interested in his career. I think this is no exception.
The album is effectively bookended by “Hey Hey My My”, his meditation on fame, neatly juxtaposing the massive flameout of the Sex Pistols with the sad denouement of Elvis. Side 1 continues in mostly an acoustic country vein, with jangly guitar and western imagery. Side 2 concerns more modern topics and goes electric, with at times a punky and sometimes grunged-out sound, especially on the album closing reprise of “Hey Hey My My”. For me, it all hangs together surprisingly well, and is a satisfying and cohesive album.
The benefit of listening to the 1001 albums is hearing things that are out of your comfort zone, or hearing things that you just missed or otherwise didn’t have time to get to when they came out.
This album is a perfect example. Great little punky tunes. I found myself liking this very much. I liked the way she uses word repetition and nonsense syllables to achieve rhythm.
Reminded me a little of INXS. Only without much melody. Or rhythm. Or Michael Hutchence.
Hard to remember that this stuff was once considered revolutionary and revelatory, and was also considered part of the American response to the British invasion. Of course these guys played it pretty cool. Their appearance and cutesy-poo spelling of Byrds with a Y instead of an I makes them seem British. I know better, and I often have to remind myself that these guys were from SoCal.
Wow! I own “Pablo Honey“ and “Kid A“, but had somehow never managed to hear this album. I am simply blown away. This may be the best thing I have listened to so far (about 75-80 albums in) in my 1001 Albums journey. Easy 5 stars for me. What I find more impressive is that everything else I’ve given five stars is something I already had heard before, so I already had an idea of its worth before listening for this exercise. This album was, on the other hand, a “cold“ listen, played once straight through. To be that impressed on a first listen is quite something.
Not a bad album, but since this one is hailed as one of the icons of thrash metal, I expected more. The interludes of speed drumming and a-million-notes-a-minute guitar were too few and far between. Very sludgy at other times, with fairly crappy vocals. The band’s oddly placed cover of “I Ain’t Superstitious” isn’t going to make anyone forget the Jeff Beck group.
