1001 Albums Summary

Couple great tunes, some unengaging.

Beyond my small ability to evaluate.

Engaging lyrics, yes, but the voice has the hypnotic beauty that carries the tune. All-star instrumentation. Frequent driving interplay between the voice and guitar. Pop should always be this good.

Not very interesting.

"Militaristic sounding industrial compositions"? Not my version of industrial.

I feel a deep sadness that Cave's son died unexpectedly. I expect songs driven by such unimaginable grief to be lyrically hoping for redemption and sonically orchestral, with droning synthesizers, zero percussion, wavelike numbness permeating the evocative voicing. If you would like that, go for this album. If you don't, stay away.

The opening track's guitar drama sets the the tone for the album's exploring the singularity of the Roxy approach. This is often called glam rock, but that doesn't really capture the complexity of Ferry's voicings or the shifting guitar, sax, synth interplay. When you think something's over, it's not, taking on new avenues. Deservedly brought Ferry into the higher echelons of rock wizardry.

The cover's surrealism is an accurate harbinger of what's to come, a fairly psychedelic experimentalism. While I love Rundgren's pop standards, I sure enjoy this album's growing complexity. You can hear the old Todd in You Don't Have to Camp Around but the new Todd starts right away in the opener, You Need Your Head. Yes you do.

Didn't know this at all. Enjoying the laid-back vibe. Her voice glides over the laid-back rhythms. Soul meets hip hop and they have a rhythm track baby.

Not really getting it here. Seems like the same song is often repeated. Vague psych overtones creep in here and there but are not explored (except in I Never Asked to Be Your Mountain). Phantasmagoria in Two shows how it could work. Title track seems a mishmash of 60s themes and tropes. A good try falling a little short.

Brilliant. Saxophone as poetry. Lyrical, moving, I could go on. Shut up and listen.

Not insightful about ambient or electronica, but if I were I would want it to sound like this. Dreamy but not one for all night--you wake up partly and begin to hum along familiarly, and a few demand you pay attention. You might even recall some of it throughout the day.

Absolutely a fan of Harvey through Uh Huh Her, but this album lost me, as if it was being self-consciously not a Harvey album. All and Everyone is a good example--starts off great then detours into a kind of talk poetry. Same for On Battleship Hill--starts great, then starts wandering vocally, gets back to very poetic rhythm, then wanders, then ends just when it got intriguing. Love Hanging on the Wire and wish the rest was as organized. Many of the parts of many of the songs grab me, but sad to say it didn't work for me.

Plaintive, poetic, poignant (not trying to stay with the 'p' words deliberately). Sombre (there, no p). Biblical emotions but personal (sorry back to a p). Sometimes I fear he'll just slow down so much he falls off the stage. But he starts again after I help him back up.

Nope. The whole aesthetic is off-putting to me.

One of my favorite from Miss Harvey. The simple directness of the opener, The Best Thing, belies the varying complexities to come. You Said Something is among my favorite of hers, melodic, lush, earwormy. She is exploring the possibilities of her voice and not hesitating to to head toward the mainstream. I recall a general diss,This Isn't Our PJ Harvey Bold and Raw. Too bad. You'd've bitched she was doing more of the same if she did more of the same.

Hard to separate my current understanding from my 12-year old wide-eyed wonderment. Just blew me away back then, leading to a lifetime appreciation of Jethro Tull. Now it seems a worthwhile exploration of its themes of alienation and loss and religiosity (among others) and a nice highlighting of musical adventurism. Hard rocky, proggy, folky, psychy. An all-time great.

Holy shit this rocks! Who's That Lady is all I knew well coming into this review--what a psychedelic soul jam. The Doobie Bros. never sounded so groovy. Searing, grooving, but somehow smooth too. All the covers here rebrand the originals into Isleydom, Summer Breeze going from a soft rock staple to soulful introspection punctuated by searing guitar. This album is great.

Sorry, I just can't follow much Bjork after the Sugarcubes. I quite enjoyed the opening cut, Stonemilker, but I think that exhausted my Bjork engagement for the day. I suppose it has its good points, but I can't get there.

Oh yeah this was foundational, the music against which I measure all subsequent hip hop I cross paths with. Ridenhour's refusal to accept our construction of black America seems ever more insightful. We're along for the ride.

Funny these tunes seem to end just when they get started. Short and sweet. Nice Texas blues rock kept direct and simple. Straightforward, if that doesn't diminish how engaging it is. What is Hot, Blue, and Righteous about? Who cares!

That opening should come with a parental advisory. The rest is just cool--you can have it as your background music to a groovy pre-hippie 60s-themed party and enjoy every song but have a hard time thinking of any names. C'mon get you're groove on.

Pollard has somehow put 28 songs into 41 minutes of album. How is that possible?, you may ask. Well, just imagine B-side Abbey Road for the indie crowd. These are pared down, isolationist insights, focused on themselves only. Enjoy the moment and wonder how you pay attention to each of those moments expecting them to turn into something more. They don't, but you keep listening.

Very few voices just plain annoy me. This is one of them. And it seems contrived, as if trying to assimilate blackness. I can't bear it.

Mexican waltz-influenced desert blues rock reaches American singer songwriter pop stylings to brilliant effect. I love this album. Has one of my all time favorite songs, Across the Wire. Mixing musical borders infuses the sound along with the physical border. Calexico uncovers the riches to be found there.

Infectious. Rage Againsty. Metally. Angelic voicing shifts instantly to thrash. I have never heard any of this before and feel like I have been shortshrifted and want to blame someone for my own shortsightedness. I want to be a skankhead. And throw my hotel tv out the window and watch with those guys in the album cover as it shatters below.

Well I can't really say anything insightful or intelligent that hasn't been said before--look it up. Vignette: seeing Pixies at Pappy and Harriet's, they do Where Is My Mind, all 2,000 people sing along ecstatically, their faces turned up to the desert night. Indelible. When I see the cover, all I can think of is tasteful Catholicism, which I suppose is exactly what Francis Black Frank Black Francis wants me to see.

As I am no fan of the brit-pop sound, I have less than good intentions listening to this. Turns out I was right. Not for me.

Yes oh yes, having a Molly Bloom, Song of Solomon moment to start things off. Sensual world yes indeed. It has a late 80s bigness to it. It has some moments, but not enough of them to my tastes. I don't ever get a chance to get hold of things.

I haven't listened to this in forever--and it's better now than when it first delighted me. Kind of odd, no? Some rock, some experimental. His voice, drums, melted guitars, that cover says it all: half recognizable, half distorted. Nothing predictable about it.

Never really heard it much--but I'm enjoying it. Anything attached to John Hughes had me running. Where did that sax on I Just Want To Sleep With You come from? They sound like they could have almost taken off (despite Hughes). I like the singer's quasi-louche affect. Pretty In Pink is their pop side leaking out. Probably made them a fortune but made them uncool despite their alternative strengths.

All this 80s (esp. if it's 90s) throwing me off a good bit. Don't really abide that synth pop sound. Good for the dance club (I've been to one accidentally in my life), not so much for my graceful attentiveness.

While I heard and liked the classics during the early 70s, I also remember when the album JT came out later and really soured on his style. Listening to this album for the first time, I am not really impressed by the somewhat saccharine vibe. And even the classics seem less engaging, as if they're shortchanged. While I am very sad that he had to suffer the personal travails that plagued him, I can't engage musically. Things generally seem incomplete, embodied perhaps by Suite for 20 G, which the internet tells me was three fragments strung together.

Never heard of them or this --hint of punkish, hint of psychish, mostly pop rockish. The superimpositions on the cover are fitting. I am pretty engaged, mostly, but it occasionally can be too confusing. Is the lead singer bored doing this? Should we be bored watching the tide? I'll have to listen again before I rate it.

Punk/Rap/Rock/Insanity, nice combo. Killing is deservedly iconic. This hits on all bases for me. I love the simple straightforwardness. Wake up indeed.

So Americana gets invented in upstate New York in 1968? By Canadians? This is the father and mother of the 70s (and beyond) and we are better for it. (Think Wilco.) (And Neil Young.)

As a child, I thought ELP was the be all and end all of popular music. It was for me a way to separate myself from the Osmonds, Tom Jones, Lobo, and Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep. The brilliant songs out there suffered from guilt by association (hey I was barely 12). Prog excess wasn't a term anyone knew (let alone experienced). Our parents listened to the same radio station we and everyone else did. Promenade, on the other hand, was a road away from such--normalcy. And no one I knew wanted to be "normal," or "uncool," or what the older kids would have called square. These were the days "Go Away Little Girl" was a top ten hit of the year. If I'm sounding a little defensive, well, I'm just trying to argue for a little leeway for folks who were out there on their own and for those who, like me, tried to support them.

What a way to open (the thousand covers to follow should have tipped us off). Strange (strange because we used to be on LSD) pilgrim?--yes, aren't we all. Hard to overstate the somewhat unwieldy trajectory of this lp. Not to suggest my experience was typical (though it largely was), but I don't recognize a specific listening to it until 1995 or so, by which point it seemed essential. The invention of alt-country or progressive country. It was there all along but some of us didn't know the trouble we were in. Thank or curse Gram Parsons and bluegrass, but there it is.

Just not my style. Overproduced. Violins make me cringe. I am sorry she suffered in her life. Her eyes are indeed haunting esp. given the traumatic future.

Generally like a good bit of the music. Can't listen to the vocals.

Frank's voice is amazing. His arrangements are hit and miss. When the violins are backgrounded it works much better. Easy listening is often way, way too easy. His voice here often has more chance to shine.

What I said before about his voice. I can't listen to it.

Certainly not to be confused with any traditional approach to popular music. What are those occasionally understood snippets of lyrics? This is a breath of fresh air after a smog of normalcy. And have fun decrypting the song titles while you're smoked out in your dorm room or basement (knowing spanish helps). Proggy approach to wacko. Tool on acid? I like to listen to one or two songs at a time, but a whole album side can be too much. Less can be a good bit more here.

Funny how this seems entirely concocted to appeal to young suburbia teens. With allowance money. How cool is it that? Did you notice that 3MTA3 (above the engine) is Eat Me backwards? How cool is that? I suppose it is an accident of birth that kept me off this bandwagon. Just lucky, I guess.

I reviewed this but it is gone (I clicked save). Said something about soul creeping in but not enough and that I actually liked northern soul (usually more than this). It was okay.

Whew, those suburban boys propping up gangsta rap finally learned that there was more to the picture than they could imagine. Freed up the gangsta rappers. Something like what happened to post-Nirvana record executives hitting themselves in the head and instead of screaming "get me the next nirvana!" screamed "get me the next non-nirvana!". Opened our ears I love the breadth of the samples and the varied grooves. There is a world (literally) of rap out there and that many kinds. A great place to check in.

Much too pop-oriented to grab me. I find the lyrics and the musicality a bit too simplistic. The musicianship is studio top-notch, no feeling allowed. I couldn't listen to the whole album--I heard the first few then started skipping ahead for the next few. Just not my thing.

Nice opener--peak Roxy. Hard to imagine another popular vocalist in 1973 taking as many chances as Ferry does here, particularly Beauty Queen. There is a lot of up-tempo energy here, lots--these instruments are having fun! You should be too. Oh, and Bogus Man is perfect proto-Eno.

I've never understood the meaning of the descriptor "glam rock." Is it only the clothing style of the performers? So Bowie and Roxy and Mott and Elton John are bedmates? And when that-era Zeppelin shows up to visit they climb under the covers too? It isn't that I dislike any of this--I like the wailing energy, I like the propulsive guitar, I like the crashing drums, but the lyrics often seem juvenile and the songs rarely have more than one idea. It's a good idea, but there is only one. Best heard one song at a time.

Lot of good shit mixed in with a lot of meh, often within the same cut. While of course it is referencing the times of the LA riots, it too often seems oddly dated. I'm only good for so much of this.

Nope. Music might be good, but the instant I hear the vocal I shut down.

Soundtrack of my high school days --not a good thing. Parts of FFaF/LLB sound like they are going to become interesting, but they immediately become too schmaltzy/pop dominated. That approach sets the tone for the rest of the albums. I like half of Grey Seal but that borders on losing me; Dirty Little Girl is the first song that fully reaches me. All the Girls Love Alice nicely drives but the lyrics are a bit appalling--why can't they work together? Too much effort goes in to hearing this album.

After a gentle opening, when the electric part kicks in it really really kicks in. Repeat. Soft, loud, metal, jazz, sooner or later you will hear what clicks, Yeah man it clicks. And clicks. Ofttimes majestically.

Well certainly nothing that makes me think "whoa, here's a country artist/song that doesn't rely on tired anachronistic banal recitations of the same barely legitimated past." Seriously, 1988? And all you could think of was this? I know, lets put some horns and Mexican-to nonMexicans-sounds and call the album Buenas Noches! That'll be intriguing! Yeesh.

Hmm, never heard more than a few short iconic moments from this. Started with side B, and as a card-carrying stoner boomer acid head (maybe exaggerating a bit) well, so that's where overlong drum solos come from! Seriously, I was surprised how much I was actually able to attend to, or was I just listening for the birth of metal? hard rock? acid rock? jam bands? psychedelic rock? glam? Not such a bad beginning. And the drum solo was actually listenable, not a 17-cymbal 35-tom prog nightmare. Side A a nice warmup. Came out well, especially for a supposed mondegreen. Now if I could just find all those tabs I brought with me from '69.

The Pogues came out of nowhere for us--how did this exist? Like the band's faces drawn over the originals on The Raft of the Medusa, they embossed wild punk and Irish music and nothing was ever the same. I recall a party where someone put this on and the next thing the whole room was jumping about in exorbitant gleeful abandon. To this day, A Pair of Brown Eyes and Dirty Old Town are essential listening, with Waltzing Matilda and Sally nudging their way in. Not many albums compare.

Totally new to me. Sorry but it seems dangerously close to yacht rock. Much too pop oriented. I'm trying hard to give them a chance, but I don't think I'm Australian enough. Had to quit during Hometown Farewell Kiss.

I have a real soft spot for Doves. Yes I can get a little disengaged here and there now and then, but the steady return to hookness from dreampopland keeps me focused. You can hear the beginnings of Coldplay , a continuation of shoegaze, some psychiness, and just enough spaciness to make you wish you were on some club drugs. I really like the constant insertion of inventiveness. Catch the Sun a regular favorite.

Big. Nothing calm here, nothing laid back. Not a sip but getting pretty buzzed. You'll recognize Eli's Comin' and Stoned Soul picnic, testaments to her writing skills, but also how just a step back allows you to hear them a little better. How did Farmer Joe not become a hit? Might need a step back. Oh, and I am in love with that face and the script.

While I appreciate the underlying R&B nature and the hiphop influence, the pop urges dominate too much for me. The repetitiveness makes me lose attention, not carry me. Strings just bother me.

Love that relentless start. Then Cybele's Reverie invites you to pay attention more closely to the incoming dynamics. It is easy to get lost in Stereolab's looping recursiveness (is that the cover talking?), but focusing on the interpolated bursts of song or keyboard or cymbal is rewarding. Slow Fast Haze! indeed.

I wished I liked this more, but I can't get behind it. Synths just ruin it for me, nor do I care for the vocals. I do like the tempo changes, but I then I run out of things to like. I've had this problem forever.

New to me. Rock creeping in, nicely. I'm loving the way the covers are both familiar and ground-changing. The horns alone are enough to love this album.

What can I say? The intro song says it all--the bodhisattva is among us, playing wicked guitars. Bring back that boston rag, yes, but make it a jazz rock song. And keep that cool vibe vibing throughout. No wonder there's no (thank god) single--I'll take My Old School any day. I never warmed to their whole approach, but listening today I am more than pleasantly engaged. Maybe my speakers were too shitty back then.

Funny, I barely recognize this album cover, though I played Solsbury Hill way back when on the radio. Still an all-time favorite. Now listening to the rest again, Humdrum almost as nice, Slowburn nearly as dramatic as his very recent Genesis work. Some tunes seem to be be from other people's albums, as if he's still trying to figure out who he is solo. He's hiding behind the windshield, eyes closed--not ready yet to show himself after the giant costume that was Genesis. Lots to like here, but still working things out. The Fripp is great--helpful.

Come all ye musicheads. Where would we be without the folk rock world? Not much to say here--just enjoy.

Psychy, poppy, not the same as but makes me think of Dandy Warhols. Approaching punk warily. Have no idea how to characterize this (Fuzzy Logic impeding me all the way). Sure am enjoying the ride, though.

Oh man I love psychedelic soul--hard for me to stop moving my foot and hard for me to stop attending to every vocal line and drum hit. Exploring gets you lost sometimes, but you find really really cool shit sometimes. This ain't your momma's grapevine.

Not normally in my listening world. So, just acceptable or unacceptable, and this is good acceptable.

It is true I find this listenable. Can I differentiate between songs? No.

Great opener, and the rest just keep passing the high bar. The cover of the pipers maybe at the gates of dawn hints at the orchestral and muted psychedelia that is to follow. The season cycle could be the theme song of the album. The light, casual breeziness hides the technical precision. One of their best.

I am much more familiar with the later work (except for Mr. Fantasy), so it's very nice to see where that came from. Very nice. Enjoying the hell out of it. Feelin' Alright? more well known to me from 100 other iterations, but like I'm hearing it for the first time. Nice interplay between Mason and Winwood. The five demeanors on the cover are replicated in the songs.

All class all the time. Standouts like Chain of Fools and People Get Ready and Natural Woman deservedly lionized. When was the last time you heard this Groovin?

Soundscapy things leave me cold. I'm trying, but hard to get past the sweeping dramatics. Then it gets all EDMy. Not for me.

Well it grabbed my attention for the first ten seconds of the first few songs but then my attention wandered and I couldn't get it back. Hard to imagine I'd have trouble engaging with anything by Eno and Byrne, but there it is. Liked Regiment, though.

Totally new to me. Refreshingly off-centered. Threatens to be pop but backs off whenever that threatens. Tight musicianship. What did you expect? Those expectations will be unfulfilled.

Not to my tastes. I'm not into the staccato, the propulsiveness, the atonality. Just not engaging to me.

Not a good start. The threatening aggressiveness bothers me. The tropes become tiresome. I can recognize the quality of the rhymes and the structure, but there's nothing for me.

So low key it's easy to think you've locked yourself out of the house. Fear not, the house is all in your mind. Spacemen 3 put the ops in neopsych and the spacey in spacey as fuck. I could listen to this forever, it feels so good.

We've heard Take Five so often it may have dulled our senses. Yeah interesting things were happening (Coltrane anyone?) elsewhere, but think for a moment how enduring that song has been and think of it as a gateway drug into time. It even makes 4/4 sound more interesting. I know shit about jazz (and everything else for that matter) but I know this makes you pay attention.

More interesting than I suspected, but when I get a whiff of their future descent into radiodom I recoil. May is a phenomenon, Taylor solid. I like the exploding of structure. When they're heavier, they're better.

I want you to love me, but I'm going to make it hard for you to love me. The easy descriptions (daring, difficult, challenging), while fine, don't capture how fiercely engaging each tune is. Who is Shameika anyway? Where'd those dogs come from? Why are we at this dinner party from hell? There are some cuts that don't really work (the attitude can easily detour into repetitiveness), but when she's on, she's deftly captivating.

The click song was all I knew. Nice to know world music has a godmother. This album is nicely varied. Her lilting voice fully exploited. Pure magic. And her activism, I'm reading, makes it worth even more attention.

Guess it's Afro-pop week. What pop should be--well-recorded, engaging, intriguing. When you don't know what the words mean, you focus on production and sonic engagement. Good. Entrancing.

Yeah (just one). Karen O is the only thing that keeps this engaging for me. The occasional drum fill works. The occasional synth drone works. In Skeletons, they both work. But for the most part the synth often seems intrusive, like it never really joined the band.

Pop at its most casually engaging. Flashes of brilliance in great rollicking pub-fun rock like it was meant to be.

Wow, really enjoying this--kind of out of the blue for me. Psych meets electronica and their baby is exploring the world.

Synth usually makes me cringe, but this isn't quite like the 80s Brit-pop synth so I hung around. The use here seems self-consciously investigative. Like the vocals and the accordion. Since when is there a wild piano solo in an 80s song from England? I'm not hooked, but I'm listening.

Yep. Your whole fucking life might be a wreck, but you are able to make (and enjoy) music. Wild gift? Wild ride. Punk can often be just as fun as snarling and to me this as fun as it gets. The psychobilly aesthetic is perfect Zoom and Doe. Exene and Doe somehow get off the couch.

Gack. I didn't know English bands could do yacht rock. I couldn't get past abbreviated attempts with the first few cuts. A band called Orange Juice should not do a song called Breakfast Time.

Not to my taste, though I do find myself intrigued. I do a lot better when it has no vocal. The wandering bass grabs me.

Rockin' into the weekend. I like propulsive and I like punk--it's like they can't keep away, try as they might. Tonsils, boners, gender bending, of course the material for songs. And songs like 16 Blue and Androgynous show what they could stretch to when they wanted.

A nice surprise--I had the lead song on a compilation disc 25 years ago, and the accompanying songs keep the groove going. My rusty spanish makes it fun to grab out the phrases I understand. Really engaging here. Seems to hold up; surprisingly contemporary. Driving. Hypnotic. Endlessly creative.

Damn, have we heard a lot of this a thousand times? Would hold up a thousand times again. If you're sick of the title track, the rest of the album will pleasantly remind you why you liked it so much in the first place.

Some nice, positive energy. Dreamy, some psychy; lot like good 60s pop. Subtle. Never got on my radar, wish it had.

I can appreciate the artistry here (interesting blend of genres, styles, subjects), but it doesn't really absorb me like it does many others.

Easy listening. Great bar band stylings. Riff rock. Lyrics and vocals right up front. I can't get enough.

While a bit of "outlaw" country seems just another marketing trick, this has a certain realism to it that is immediately present. Everything is up front, the tropes fresh, the guitar new, no dogs; trains, yes, but I can't recall any trucks. A line like "fingers claw the darkness in my dream" is more poetry than typical country.

Come out hard, come out fast, hit it. Change. Have a brew. Sounds like what DIY should sound like and help remind you why hate overproduced bullshit.

I guess I just can't put myself into the target crowd. I like the slice-of-life focus but have too much trouble hearing the words so I lose the whole point.

Drum machines in, me out.

These American recordings showcase Cash's singular presence in the collective songbook--spare, sparse, evocative, downright eerily entrancing.

Peak Yes. Everybody hitting on all cylinders. Prog excess and overweening pop triviality unimaginable at this point. Personally, arrived in my life as adolescence was beginning and I could properly obsess over it. Pure delight. Pure endless delight.

Got to me pretty late and hasn't disappointed. How to put the dream in dream pop while you're gazing. The vocals are mostly unintelligible, as is usually the case when empyrean voicings try for the terrestrial. When these cuts works for me I'm transported. Hard to maintain that for an album's worth.

Never liked him much after Brown Eyed Girl. Then he became Mr. Conspiracy.

Sure enjoyed these hits when I was young. Listening now trying to hear past nostalgia, it is more interesting than I knew, and less so too. When good, it is infectious, and when weak it feels unfinished, oddly incomplete. Punchy and weak.

1973? Ahead of its time. Unadorned visceral power. Definitive rock and roll.

Bad memories of 70s overplay make this hard to listen to. Puerile, lyrically and musically. Simplicity masquerading as profundity. Notice how many songs rely on overplaying the chorus? No.

Time of the Season the extent of me familiarite with this album. I have to sae it has mane accomplished foraes into 60s pop relevance. Great harmonies, great vocals, great piano/keeboard. Unexpected turns delight. The Butcher's Tale an anti-war epic of profound dimensions, like a Wilfred Owen poem transported to 1968. How mane bands turn to William Faulkner for tragic inspiration? Eleanor Rigbe a similar feel-good tune.

Gravelly, both lyrically and dirtily so. Swampy, if that can be a thing. The background vocals a delight, a nice tonal counterpoint to the mostly monotonic talk-song of "Dr. John." The echoey repetitiveness is hypnotic, with a steady percussion assist. I had no idea this could be so engaging. At only 33 minutes, I had to listen twice. Didn't, but I think taking mushrooms to this might be pretty fun.

Before he took up residence in the deep end, Axl could rip it (though a little screechy), and Slash was right there with him (minus the crazy). They can be a little unimaginative and repetitive, though at their best there is a nice freewheeling energy to follow.

Post-punk perfection? Ms. Harry's voice is often the most imaginative instrument in the band (I would have forwarded it more in the mix). Moody, melodic, masterful. Highly pop influenced, the album keeps changing its particular approach. A couple misses, but mostly keeping things very engaging.

Groovy. Harp, piano, drums just right. Growly and swingy as necessary, the voice holding it all together.

Pop stylings usually leave me cold, but the propulsiveness here gets me going--this is Sly caught up to 1989, or prefiguring Suzanne Vega; Rhythm Nation indeed. The Knowledge (and others) is great if I don't listen too carefully to the unimaginative lyrics. You go, girl.

That voice can pull the most mundane production up into listenability. Pop soul seems self-contradictory. The soft jazz of Private Dancer takes away any edge it might have had and as the album goes on pulls hard against her voice. The rock edge of Better be Good and others works much better and she owns these tunes and her performance of them. Things seem pretty hit and miss throughout. I'm very glad for her career-wise. Just not totally on this album for me.

Wasn't much aware of Weller or The Jam before some Facebook music group posts. The lyrics can be a good bit underwhelming, in keeping with the yacht rock stylings of the music. I can hear at times what could have been pretty cool, like in the instrumental part of Has My Fire Really Gone Out? or 5th Season or Shadow of the Sun, but the lyrics return too soon. I keep feeling like this could have been something.

While I like the idea of The Cramps, the product is a bit come-and-go for me. It has a minimal appeal. Camp is always borderline with me. Are you edging too far into the different for different's sake? Or weird for weird's sake. Hard to listen to a whole album's worth. Attitude on its own only goes so far before it becomes just tedious.

I found it uninteresting until A Very Cellular Song piqued my interest. To be honest, though, it was hard to maintain. Did the collective energies of the late 60s inspire a lot of this to the point of tedium? Others may find the psychiness profound, the experimentation daring, the spirituality inspiring, but it didn't work for this pedestrian. Perhaps on another day, but not this day.

Nice antidote to the treacly Sonny and Cher and to treacliness everywhere. Rollicking, jaunty, satiric, in-your-face, joyful, all at once. Pick your shibboleth, including rock and roll, it's in the crosshairs. I found my spirits lifted.

I'd heard a bunch of fIREHOSE and really enjoyed it. Reading wikipedia I learned the reason why: the outgrowth from MINUTEMEN resonating therein. Irreverent, funky, punky, jazzy, eclectic. Makes you want to listen to try and figure out where they're going.

Was really happy to see the OZO kids when I opened today's album. I have that street sign as a little sticker. Picked it up at one of the shows I saw around the time of this album, really really energetic affairs. Yeah the lyrics can get a little cheesy but they can get a crowd jumping. So maybe it doesn't really capture the vibe when you are not part of the collective delight, or don't know spanish, or have a salsa or rock en espanol affection, but damn I check those boxes and can't (won't) separate now from those occasions. I love this.

Powerful maybe. But more so just vulgar. All seems pretty tiresome.

I like how the intro steadily drives into intensity on the bass line, then sidetracks out into sax and flute land and then on into the unconquered territories. Songs? Hell, lets give up the tired notion of songs--let's do an album side per song. When you're stoned you don't want to bother to have to attend to such things. Jazz? Jazz Rock? Free Jazz Rock? Free Psychedelic Jazz Rock? Free Electronic Jazz Rock? Side note for Pynchon fans: The 2007 CD reissue has a bonus disc with "Esther's Nose Job," which includes "Pig."

I think in another universe I would be tempted to like this more--but in this one it seems kind of one-note. Fairly unimaginative lyrics with high school cursing thrown in. My parents! No! Does every song end by repeating lyrics? I actually enjoy the dissonance and genre mixing, but that is about it. Pretty is disturbing: you don't know who you feel sorry for? What the fuck are you talking about? All in the Family seems desperate, shock value masquerading as serious commentary, on what? I'm not sure. Gonna take me a sec to get this outta my ears.

Nice opening, chambery, lush, slowly developed, vocals and harmonies grabbing, great intro to the rest of their catalogue. Pop as it should be. The upfront vocal clarity belies the engaging deviousness of the lyrics. A keeper.

Certainly not music to relax to. Nor to enjoy. But to be threatened by? Irritated by? Distorted by? Aggressed by? Sure, yeah.

I'm a sucker for world music. I picked up a Rai Rebels CD in the mid 90s and Khaled was on it. I like the driving intensity. The lilting lyricism. Listening to this album, I am surprised by the diversity. Great cover of Imagine--I'm sure that pissed off the fundamentalists. His voice the real instrument here, forcefully intimate. Gets my vote.

Bad memories of pervasive 70s disco. Sort of starts things off on a bad foot. Overly packaged, overproduced, overshadowing the actually creative moments lurking somewhere herein. "Soaring" is a bad word here--please no. So the guys can sing too?--please no. I do confess, however, for a fondness for Fernando. Way to go, Scandinavians, for writing a song for Mexican revolutionaries.

After it started, I didn't expect to like this much--but that changed quickly. I don't know as I've ever heard any Chemical Bros. Pretty fun, if you can use that word to describe techno. Grabs your ears. Endlessly engaging and inventive, often surprisingly so. I would normally think this is only good on the dance floor, but it works (for me) as background music that you occasionally drop in on and attend to.

Gregarious, complicated garagey bluesy pop rock. Relishing in its unexpectedness. Quite casually complicated, starting with the vocals and continuing through song structure. I have to say Electricity is brilliant. I have to say I was continually delighted.

Afraid the production kills this for me. I just can't get over the pop-focused mechanics that drains any real human emotion. Sad, because I want to marry her.

Wow, decades since I heard any of this. Down To Zero is a magic song. This album should be a stellar attraction in the Cool Hall of Fame. Her voice in just Help Yourself and Water With the Wine is worth a million times the price of admission. I think my older sister must have had this because many of the cuts have the familiarity of long lost but cherished memories. Endlessly inventive, and she exhibits a powerful possession of all aspects of the music. No filler.

Not much on my radar--too bad for me. Nice driving intensity. The grating subtleties nicely matched by the lyrical abrasiveness. Punk freed from the confines of song structure into industrial dance (see cover of oil rigs and factories). 1/2 hour or so of pure engagement.

A little interesting. The album seems to never quite get started, and a lot of the songs have the same issue. The lyrics seem dorm-room moody. I'm just not getting the vibe.

Not attending too much to the individual lyrics. I like the flow, the beats, nice background. Drug dealing and gang warfare too stereotypical to attend to. So, I like the sound, content less so.

While Bjork's later voicings can easily irritate me, on this and on their next album she and the band are like the fresh-faced new kid on the block: everything is new and intriguing. The music is fairly competent post-punk and with Bjork it soars. My favorite part? Singing in Icelandic.

My best friend at York (Old York) introduced me to this. Indelible memories. The pre-hat Edge, the pre-arena anthemic Bono, the driving rhythm, the pure energy was captivating, post-punk flexing its skinny little arms and staring down any attempt to marginalize it.

Animal Collective songs don't develop--they steadily entone, hypnotically, the way a Philip Glass composition entones. Incantatory. Lucid dreams indeed.

A pop masterpiece. The variety is mind-boggling, everything easily accessible and catchy. It helps I haven't heard classics like I Saw the Light in forever--they sound even more impressive hearing them with fresh ears. Todd steps up, outta the park.

Definitively brilliant. How can so much be packed into one collection? Only the gods know. Hendrix is a genre unto himself. What can an electric guitar do? Jimi knows. He contains multitudes (thanks Walt).

Shades of Woody and Bob. Real, visceral, necessary, the reject (the boll weevil) who makes a place wherever he is but is always looking for a home. Romantic? No, there are bedbugs. Foundational.

Approaches but doesn't succumb to 80s overly dramatic self-importance. While I can appreciate the vocals, I like more the rhythmic droning. Hard to tell one song from the next, but that's a mostly good thing. 5, 6, 7, 8, (9!) minute songs helps. Okay so yeah there is some aimless wanderings but the overall aesthetic holds.

Got to give them pre-punk punk chops. The haphazardness belies the forward-thinking energy. Like a seedbed for punk, heavy metal, glam rock, hair metal, post punk, Kiss, the Tubes, you name it. What fun. Best taken in small doses, though, else the repetitiveness gets cloying--stick with a couple at a time.

Astral Weeks is a pretty cool tune, a stream-of-consciousness astral journey from the ditch to heaven, but I start to lose engagement quickly after that. His voice often verges into screechy and the wandering music is alternatively intriguing and lost.

I would like to give her a chance, but it leaves me disengaged. Overproduced, overdetermined, personality-vacated high school romance politics, no sense of time or place evident, joins the crowded Cher-inspired pantheon of pop emptiness. Some highly skilled people made this happen, not least of all Taylor herself. She may have a great personality--wish I could see some of it.

What a voice she has. This is supremely musical and she brings the voice to match. The songs are shape-shifting, rap, soul, singer-songwriter, pop not able to contain or express her. That she wrote, arranged, and produced the record is beyond even the Grammys she won. Magically poetic, simple and magisterial, a record for the ages.

Techno, electronic, not usually part of my listening habits, but this engages me. The guitar runs (is it a guitar?) alone, enough to keep me paying attention. I don't know how, but I was introduced to Porcelain and loved it, so I listened to more Moby. I have no ability to comment, just appreciate the steady, humming drum tracks.

Can't listen without hearing current mental health cries.

While I appreciate the effort to normalize gay bands, the English style doesn't work for me. The lyrics seem trivial, the music only slightly less so. Synth-pop too synthetic. Bleh.

Just a little unengaging. I suppose it may be very interesting to some--just not to me.

I'm enjoying this even though countryish honky tonkish not typically attractive to me. Like the loungey voice (country Roy Orbison) and dang that guitar (pedal steel?) can swing. I can imagine these songs easily turned into great Stones tunes. Also love the phrasing--lonely street; honky tonk angel; anybody's baby; the list goes on and on.

Unfortunate the Exorcist theme was the beginning and end of many peoples' engagement with this endlessly engaging exploratory of guitar and keyboard and their infinite manifestations. I listened to this forever and never tired of it. intriguing to this day. My favorite part? When he starts adding instruments by name to the riff. Sublime.

Singular technical ability. Yes country goes well with punk and psychedelia. Their sound is visionary and at first they were the only ones who could see what was going on. But a few repeated listens and you're right there beside them. I would play this in the car with the kids--they loved it (or at least partly). Those trilling guitar runs, the off beat drums, the imitation of my singing style. Everything here is oddly beautiful or beautifully odd.

Lyrically can approach intriguing (and sometimes a little sophomoric). Synth-pop can be a bit too synthy and a little too poppy to get me on board, and the interesting parts get uninteresting quickly. I guess what I'm saying is that yeah that first cut is iconic but not really backed up. Eye-winking gets you only so far--just ask Joe Walsh.

Enjoying this--cuz I'm just sittin' here, lis'nin' here (lol).. Hard though to get past that first cut (skipped the second). Back on track with I Luv U, dizzyingly twisting around that techno beat. The eerie bells ringing through Brand New Day are hypnotic. The rest is pretty hypnotic too and grabs me. Pulls some beats out of the bottom of the bag you thought must be empty.

The dreamy of the dream-pop can verge on too dreamy for me, but they somehow ground it just enough to keep me listening. Things can get psychy and eerie out of nowhere, another nice touch. It helps to have an angelic voice keeping things engaging.

As a student and DJ back then, there was an affinity for the new and divergent. It's not holding up as well for me as I would have anticipated. Have I been spoiled by what this has inspired? Think so. I keep expecting it to take off, by which I mean find a groove and exploit it. Still has some moments, though. Best when percussive like in Pt. 5.

Opening like this tells one that Zeppelin wants you to feel at home while your socks are being removed. Is this album the high point of the band's achievements and of '70s guitar rock? I was lucky (smartly prescient?) to have mostly avoided their music in the '70s, preserving somewhat a fresh approach to hearing them then and now. It really helps to not be satiated, instead feeling only vaguely familiar (and often in awe) with it all, except for the monster's like Kashmir. By the way what a way to conclude side two. And we're just getting started.

Chill vibe. Sometimes too heavy on the chill. Makes great background music--great that when you turn your attention to it you are happily engaged. But doesn't hold up to (and doesn't seem made for) sustained attention. Guess I haven't been smoking enough to be delighted.

Okay. Just okay. I think I have mentioned how strings are a turnoff. I just dropped off.

Good rhymes, good beats.

Feels like listening in on a love affair between tradition and modernity. Imagine the the swinging London of the late 60s sharing a pint with the ghosts of England's folk tradition (about which I know absolutely nothing). Magic, in other words. It helps if you have Sandy Denny and Richard Thompson on hand to stir the pot.

You know how some voices for no reason irk you to no end? This is that voice for me.

Afro-beat? I'm in. There's a curious touch to this--half percussion, half vocal. Neither dominates. What is he singing? Don't know, don't care. There's a haunting, pensive edge that reels me in.

I have a habit of forgetting The Doors' blues incarnation, and it is refreshing to re-engage with it. I get the sense they are feeling a little refreshed. This passenger, while not loaded, was definitely on board.

Feel like I'm getting my Flatlanders fix satiated, but not quite fully. Some transcendent moments but some just okay moments too, which are, need I say it, okay. All around great job but some refinement here and there would go a long way--as if safe repetition got in the way of daring exploration.

I guess the '70s weren't quite done being the '70s, and I guess they left their hot album cover chick looking for work. They are unapologetically derivative, emphasis on not apologizing for the straight out over-the-top revisitation to the glorious past. They do their best being unafraid of asking kindly to be let into the club--they aren't imitating, after all, just deriving. Good for them.

Punk opened the doors and the Undertones crashed in. I think I recognized that wall and half the people sitting on it. And half the riffs and half the attitude, but the other half of everything is totally original and mad. The simple algorithm is perfect.

Hmm, a bit overdone, more than a bit sentimental, even maudlin. I cringed at the "warn ya/California" rhyme. Still cringing as I write. Do show tunes and that orchestration fit with the advertised Gothic? I think his voice (and songs) belongs with Broadway, not with Folk or Americana, or whatever this was supposed to be. Makes me think of Billy Joel and bad Bernie Taupin.

Not sure I can take a note of this after yesterday. Add strings ( when were swelling strings ever acceptable?) and then aaargghh I'm out.

My review vanished. I was underwhelmed.

Like the guitar work, but disliking the operatic voicings. The song structure is beguiling but those reverby vocals are constantly irritating me. Shame. Actually had to stop listening after four or five tracks.

Dude's chilling, turning soulful low-key underdevelopment hip. Hey, I got a good idea: start with a snippet and then start jamming making sure we don't wake anybody on this island up!! And keep that up for the rest of the album. The definition of cool.

Energetic but not too energetic. When the guitars get going, the sound gets richer, the feel gets going, the album gets going. Drags with the endless rain--we get it. Not quite enough variety to the rain. When they depart from it, they kick.

A chord in my heart for Dusty is being struck. You can hear the influence of American soul being the underlying impulse behind her voicing--and that voice! This cover shows Dusty the nonconformist, blue-shirted soul getting an early airing, Bacharach David and Dozier Holland and Goffin King (throw in some Ray Charles) getting behind her and propelling this album into the stellar pop pantheon.

Not very interesting to me. Bells and whistles (literally). Regular pop --not necessarily a bad thing--hiding out in the post-punk thickets. Plenty of good ideas, but disorganized.

Weird, the drums sound mechanical, the songs seem underdeveloped and unfinished, the sound monotonic, cold rather than ethereal, an album as a demo track. But somehow they pull it off, a feat maybe influenced by just having heard their 2024 album and the more developed material between. Promising.

While I can very much appreciate this actual effort, I am in no way justified in evaluating it.

Who doesn't love a power ballad? Who doesn't love a little sleaze? A slick riff? Okay that could be the formula for a boring '70s hits radio station. But these guys invented that formula, so they get a bit of cred. A ton of cred. So all those kids in the 70s (me) turned their cassettes in the car or record player in the bedroom up to ear-splitting levels and just fucking rocked out. You can blame us or get on board.

The dying notes of the dying sun? Flesh falling off of faces under the church bells? Jeez, Bob, yeah lived our lives to the soundtrack of your records. Not going gently I guess into that good night, nor letting us abandon the obsessing parsing of every lyric. How many self-references in Tryin' To Get to Heaven alone. No rest.

The supercool video for Take On Me makes me not flee from this synth-pop excess. It isn't usual for me to have a video reflect at all on a musical performance, but this time I can't deny my reaction. When the rest of the album plays, well, I just flee--violins and drum machines, synth for substance, can't get much more alienating.

Entirely intriguing for 7 minutes and then you got to move on. You can come back to it for another 7 or so after 15 minutes. That being said, you have to give all of Last Bongo in Belgium a listen in one 6:55 sitting, it will change your life. Trust me, I'm already a better human being for having done so. The In A Gadda Da Vida cover is a delight. In all seriousness, this is fun and funky, and it will make you a better human being, or at least a more groovy one.

Yep, so real. I love the expanded palette, finding the possibilities of hip hop instead of retreating to tired stereotypes masquerading as street I-know-hard. I love the word play (Cornel Westside etc.), of course not unlike much hip hop, but these seemed geared to my sensibilities. And it mentions Jerry Garcia. You want the real shit? I gotcha, plus some great beats and poetry.

The Tom Jones-y vibe wears a little thin after a couple songs, and I'm a little confused by the allusions--they don't seem to have any relation to the songs. Does In and Out of Paris and London have anything to do with Orwell? Is Charge anything more than euphemistic sex play, inviting Tennyson to come into it somehow? I am a little put off by the intentionally (?) juvenile sexual politics. The retro musical stylings come up a little short too. Couldn't get behind this one.

To say the least this is pop the definitive way the Beatles are pop. I will suppose that many have heard cuts from this and weren't sure at first where they came from (that describes me; this group's musical literates may find that laughable) (how'd I miss them? could have been the drugs, or because I was 13). Sharp harmonies, jangly guitar, lyrically engaging, thematically developed--yep, guaranteed big stardom.

I feel I am not able to offer critical insight or analysis. Love drummy beats, odd vocals, odd noises. Came to the right place.

The symphonic arrangements (symph-pop?) are an irritating distraction from the basic song structure and intelligent lyrics. Just when I get intrigued the synth and strings come in to ruin things. From Rags to Riches is nearly perfect though in its atmospheric hauntings and odd percussion. As long as they're doing things along those lines I totally like the weirdness.

It is easy to diss him when you're hearing Crosby Stills and Nash yacht rock creep into your head. And the beginning of a couple songs are a little yachty, but geez he can play and the guest players are often astounding. Good pop fare, well done.

Not sure why Missy got left unposted. I love her. This is just too easy for me.

While I cannot say enough about her voice, the easy-listening vibe is a great detriment. Add eighties saxophone, and I'm looking for the door. Soft rock stylings and the door is hitting my butt on the way out.

Well go Aussies. A very cool addition to my early punk awareness, They keep all the punk attributes we love and yet are more tuneful, seeming to delight in songcraft. Can't get enough of this.

Starts a little haphazardly, but boy when it gets going make sure you have ticket and passport. An often propulsive journey that pauses for reflection and side trips into eerieland. A great landscape. Love this.

The National likes to engage slowly and build and build and build (the ocean breaks). The growing power of each song echoes the growing power of the album. I feel like each song is an education in powerful subtlety. Some songs might miss here and there a bit, but it mostly achieves somehow. The mysterious lyrics never dwell in cliches--did you know your engagement was a blood buzz before the swarm of bees carried you? You do now.

Those aggressive opening chords? Are we in heavymetalland? No, we soon recognize alternativeland. The mixture of approaches/styles is a delight and carries us. I know you know your grunge your power pop your alternative rock and recognize them here. This has them put together really well. Slick.

They really figured out who they were for this one. Perfectly perfect light pop. Maybe not one serious thought except how to make a seriously made showcase of what they could do. 5 because I'm hooked and know what's coming. I'll be back indeed.

The complex play of street voices on the title track reveal how his amazing voice is rooted in the day's realities. How relevant today, sheeit 1971 literally yesterday. Advertising cliches mocked by reality. There is some obvious working things out in places but when he is sure what he's doing, damn, he knows what he's doing.

I like a little of his stuff--emphasis on little. Dude, what's up with the medieval armor? Violins? Dial it down a bit, please. I just can't take the whole over-the-top overwhelming vibe.

Man, he is pure lyricism when he gets going, the rhyme eloquent, the beats insistent. Too bad for me I can't take the aggressive "I'm just telling it like it is" that I can't help but see as glorifying negative stereotypes. But it sure is engaging.

I'm a sucker for anything Emmylou, and the bluegrass inflections help plus roots country. This is supremely engineered and produced. Talent assuredly embodied. These women can't be stopped.

Stockton strong! If you've ever been there--or passed through--Pavement makes perfect sense. So Nirvana was 1991, opening the doors for all kind of tries and this is a helluva try. Diamond Sharp words? Oooo ooooh ooooh, yep that's working for me. They call it lo-fi--I call it a start at ditching overproduced, overengineered, overaudience-tested pop sameness. Soon we get Beck and Car Seat Headrest. Relistening now I'm delighted at how distinct each song comes off. There's a lot going on. A lot. Oh and many thanks to Scottymac for my first Pavement tape.

Joni. Is there anything more I can say? Okay. Remember this is 1975. People still remembered folk Joni and adored pop Joni. She made fusion understandable, engageable, slithering into Central Park and hoisted by bandanned acolytes (okay the drummers on track 2). Did it escape from her house? Internet says the skyline is LA, but I saw the bungalows as Laurel Canyon plopped in front of the Empire State building, signifying her changing from pop songstress (LA) into jazz-inflected impresario (NY). Having Larry and cool bass along and that angel-shaming voice helped. I remember people hating this, but I submitted and came to love it. Joni.

While I'm a fan of neo-soul, this doesn't move me. Auto-tune makes me cringe. It feels like he's still working out what he wants to do, half-baked ideas jostling with positive directions. Feels like a mish-mash.

I never heard the album before now. The familiar ones even better as part of the album. The psych is way more psychy. Even more original. Some really fine vocalizations and subtle (noninvasive) production. Grace is the perfect match for Jorma. Definitive.

Certainly infectious. I think I'm picking up on the Welsh renaissance vibes. Geez don't you have to love a guy named Gruff? The overarching pop presence serves their detours well. Inventive, expansive, engaging. No Sympathy shows just how crazy they can get.

Synth-pop not to my tastes. I have respect for their organization, but little for their musicianship. I do not hear people voice inspiration about their playing. Vaguely like other synth-pop bands. If I heard any of this on the radio I would not be able to say who it was.

Was this under the radar in 1974? Not country, not pop enough to be country rock or Americana, this is sui generis. I'd say it was ahead of its time, but I am not sure its time ever showed up. Title cut alone worth the price of admission. Listen for the brilliance of all the side contributors. I've never heard this before and feel now I was criminally deprived.

Normally synth-pop and Brit-pop turn me off, but these guys escape some of those limitations, like this 6 1/2 minute opener followed by another 6 1/2 (albeit boring) minute cut. Mothers Talk borderline electronica at times and gets quite noisy. They easily lose me (pop psychology blah), but when they bring in the electric rocky guitar (yay). Bold move, close with a near 7 minutes of wandering. Too bad they lose focus there.

Great mechanics here--the production values match the musicianship. Jazzy, folky, bluesy, rocky, percussive, harmonious, eastern, what's not to love? I came to Pentangle through Dead acquaintances, though I never heard this until now and am floored. (This would probably go great with mushrooms.) File under: Music Made For Me

Smooth operator yes indeed. The album veers a bit too much into easy listening territory for me to appreciate, but damn I love her voice (and looks). The jazzy elements good, the lyrical banality banal. Mostly background, but moments shine through. My favorite, Cherry Pie, is the most freewheeling.

New to me. Love the aggressiveness. 1994, but we need it today. Punk math rock? Didn't know such a thing could exist. As a math rock nerd and punk acolyte, I'm pleased. My kind of loo-ow. Go on forever, please.

Not sure I got it. Spraint is a real word, like holt--they have the right to appear in a song. The techno trip hop okay for background. But that's all I can give it. (Especially now that the trade war has made Canadian boards so expensive Go! MAGA!!)

Nothing's shocking except this cover. 1988 had some positive releases (like Green) but it seemed hair metal was everywhere. This was a breath of fresh air. And now of course porn is everywhere (sister is not a virgin and those images are indeed everywhere on the news). Dave Navarro wasn't a porn director yet, Perry hadn't launched Lollapalooza, seemed all good. Listening today I'm rehearing my initial attraction. Dudes were talented.

Have an old relationship with Afro-world music and Toure, but have never heard this. I like it and am reacquainting myself with that attraction. Straightforward without being simplistic. Laid back. Not having any sense of what he's singing or how it fits culturally, I'm simply along for the ride. Wikipedia tells me that's Toumani Diabate there too, who I adore. Elemental.

At the height of 60s flower power, there was MC5 kicking out regular terminal stasis in the American ruse. That guitar! Those elegant vocals! Over too soon.

Trip hop is nicely trippy to me. I like the wandering here. The echoing here. The differing styles I can't identify. At the heart, the percussiveness.

Talk about concise. A good bit of this is great in short bursts. And that is as it should be. Unless you're actually in the mosh pit--don't take a break or you'll miss everything.

Nice rhymes. Laid back. But. Sorry, I can't do the drugs and guns.

Well, atmospheric as all get out. Not really my game. Nice for background. Periodically the lyrics seem contrived. I want to like this more than I do.

I sure find this entrancing. While I like the earlier stuff more, this holds up pretty well too.. A little more laid back (perhaps sometimes way too laid back). I'm rewarding its good moments.

It's too late now for me to listen to you.

Never listened to this before. Has a good combination of two imaginative creative powers. We're having fuuuun. The lyrics run succinct snapshots of repetitive random experience, the droning electric guitar following along, the killer bass demanding deserved attention. Few variations--keep it simple, keep it straightforward.

Some surprising gems relistening to this lo these many years. The songs work better as individual releases--an entire album seems to blur them. Knopfler is a guitar genius/master best appreciated in small doses.

Another great album. The surprising explorative efforts shine. A class of their own. Just delightful. Laid back to the point of sleepiness, but the eeriness keeps your attention. Chilton perfect for the vibe (sadly). Til the End of the Day is the only regular-style pop, serves as a reminder how downbeat everything else is.

You know that music you can put on and do other stuff? This is not that kind of music Even when it isn't your cup of tea, all of a sudden it is and you're backing up to see what you missed. Interesting and engaging. The gravelly voice comes in and out of focus over music that comes out of nowhere. Love it.

New to me. Totally engaged. Aggressively poetic (the best way to be poetic and rock). Yeah the songs blend but so what, the caterwauling vocals belong together with the scalding guitar and lyrics that have the poetry of hip-hop. Getting Bright at Night is an EP unto itself and a microcosm of the Soiree. Worth the price of admission.

Ms. Crow can write an interesting song (but I seem to remember there were disputes about who wrote what? Plagiarism, or not sharing credit??). Well however they came about, these songs keep the singer-songwriter tradition happening. What radio-friendly music should be.

Can I say that they do a good job of not offending anyone? Cheery, light, inoffensive gutsless? I thought Chocolate Cake's varied taking the piss would promise some edgy guitar or slashing lyrics, but I guess not. After a minute I just started forwarding. Blah.

Nice passive aggression buried in the tunes--who wouldn't want to ditch the liquor and drugs? I'm a passenger here watching through the windshield and seeing some straightforward repetition of the simple chords. Things get a little more inventive in Tonight with a little room for lead guitar. Is there any more really laid back vocal to Success? We get a few lines and repeat them. Some nice low tech low level guitar leaks into things here too. Hop, Twist, we've left it all behind for sweet cool detachment. And it gets better.

1970? Wow, they were really really ahead of the curve, blazing as in torching the signposts along the trail. And while I will always appreciate punk's 2-minute thrash, it is indeed nice to put your feet up and hang out every so often while the house burns down.

Great LP cover, no? Hipgnosis! the internet tells me. The violins on Cosmic Dancer are absurd and ruinous, but Jeepster makes it interesting again. The jammy laid-back grooviness is a great lead-in to the dirty sweet of Bang a Gong, which continues. What a gas.

Beck always surprises. Mr. Inventive. Not every song up to his highest standard, but intriguing even when not his best. Better listened to as singles than as an album as songs can run together. Violinitis needs treatment. Lost Cause makes everything better.

Nah.

Hard to get behind. I appreciate the concept. Don't have to like it.

Can't...stand...listening..to..this.

That's a good opener--inventive, interesting, talent-rich. The album, though, has a hard time catching up to that level. There are patches of getting there, almost, but I had a hard time following. It is as if they were trying to figure out just what they wanted sound like.

Weepy country. Do you have to feel sorry for yourself to write this music? Is this the source of all the cliches or just borrowing them? Just tedious.

I can't get past the sap. I feel it keeps trying to get away from it but it pulls them back in. Not bad, just blah. I had to play some Pinkshift (Suraksha) to cleanse my palate.

Not likely to have a calm time at the diner with THAT jukebox. Post punk at it's postiest-punkiest. They know how to be thrashy/snarky/sneery/ bass line right there punchy drums punching. You were calming down? Here comes the screech!

I confess to having had to mature a lot before I could hear and appreciate Ray Davies' genius. Take even a song like Too Much On My Mind--voice and guitar quietly open, layers adding, then eventually the quiet outro. I never heard it before and love it. Great muzishean. Compare the Kinks Waikiki to what the Beach Boys of the time would have done. Exclusive.

As many albums as Guided By Voices? Twice in one week for us, and I am as delighted as I was first time. I always jump at the chance to use "Mancunian" in a sentence. I guess I'm spoilt. If I didn't have Spotify to help me, I wouldn't catch a word. "L." "A." was about it. Good job, Fall.

Well. Many people much smarter than me will write about this much more smartly and eloquently than I ever will. For me: Rubber Soul opened the door to Future Beatle, and Revolver walked through. The hair on the cover is getting wild, but their real eyes show you it's still them. See all their past selves lurking inside? Tomorrow Never Knows should easily rank with the Day In the Life and Strawberry Fields epics. The studio emerges fully as the 5th Beatle (sorry, screaming legions): they can finally hear themselves.

Is it going to be pop or hip-hop? Never quite decides. She is more interesting when she verges hip-hop. I can pass on the pop.

Not eager to dismiss Randy, but his voice bothers me. Irritating. The relentless overproduction doesn't help.

I am delighted by early 70s Stevie. Like he's falling into his own groove. Never could get the lyrics: "Boogie onray woman"? "Boogie on ornery woman"? No matter. That dancing piano over the tidy bass was enough. Doo the wop.

Easy high-school rhymes, sophomore piano. Thematically banal. The album cover: wait, you're saying she masked her real self? whooaah. Too harsh? Sorry the whole thing bothers me.

Not sure I'd put it on the necessary list, but I'm entranced by the out-of-nowhere ethos that pervades the quirk. The production seems perfectly attuned to the oddness. Stark, spare, sorrowful.

I like it for background music. Not versed in techno enough to evaluate it beyond that.

We are not in easy listening land. What's with the veer toward the electronic? While I find this oddly entrancing, again not my style. Background.

Dang loving this. Partly familiar ground with the added twist of German krautrocktechindustenz. I totally get (for some reason) the hand-made metallic noise vibe. I mean who doesn't like whacking on shit to a rhythm track? While screeching.

Can't separate listening now from my earliest encounter (15 or 16?) with some of these song and then listening soon again as my desperate attachment to Joni took shape and flowered. The raw simplicity of the playing and arrangements makes the poetic lyric beauty resonate. Green just now (knowing the back story) brought tears to my eyes. Then Carey made me laugh joyfully. California--I was living back east--was a dream (I'd lived there as a young'un). I have more stories, but will leave off. A favorite album of all time. Brilliant achievement.

Some of these interactions are great, some obscure Hooker's and/or the collaborators' mastery. I tend toward preferring blues in small doses, so these various changes often, but not always, help engagement.

Certainly gritty and in-your-face and I-don't-give-a-wanker's damn. I appreciate that and the pub rock stylings. The mix is sharp, highlighting the vocals' incisiveness. I am a little distanced by the juvenile dramas that inform the album and remind me of my oldfartedness. The best cuts are Vampires and Romance, which let the music take chances, the vocal sidelined for a moment but still strong.

Surprised how yacht rock this is. Professionalism, check. Skills, check. Mix, check. Boring, check. Nuclear armageddon and he just wants to bang a chick he's eyeing? Please.

Love the music. Can't listen for even a second to the vocal.

Hard to escape the miasma of the entire Presley existence, but I think I'm channeling the Liverpool boys, greeting the sound like an acolyte receiving a vision from the ethereum. Despite the all the mellow, here comes the history of rock 'n' roll.

They call it punk, but it seems a little too theatrical for my punk tastes. Young Livers I found fun, embraceable pop-punk stylings, the best cut too me. Much of the rest kind of one-note. A lot of fun, but I'm not able to take it too seriously. Like the song Ball Lightning--the whole thing built around want some cheese with your wine (whine)? Fat Lip, on the other hand, explodes. Back and forth.

Hard to separate my adoring high school senior listening from listening now. Holds up pretty well but a little frayed around the edges. The gems make the filler fill. The harmonizing entices, more, please. The occasional leads are desperate invitations--more, please. The popness dulls--I can barely listen to Don't Stop. I appreciate Nicks' witchiness, but much preferred McVie's sometime grit (You Make Loving Fun is no fun and Daddy? ugh). Recall that '77 was the year of Heroes and Never Mind the Bollocks--more to my taste then and more so now. That cover? Took some balls.

I didn't get to bed last night I started to listening to this. Endless listens. Yeah okay I learned later how they were fighting terribly and playing was weird, but I was on my own (well with my friend and fellow Beatles obsessor Steve) for all the repeat listening without tv or music press, so it was just a Beatles album for us, every note inscribed on the brain before too long. Okay to be honest we skipped Revolution #9 many but not all times. Yeah we thought the album was weird, different, but brilliant weird different. Yeah they were on their way out but even on their way out they are better than every other band ever. Ever.

I am listening to this without closing my ears though it almost makes me close my ears. There is that mass production vibe hovering about it like a harpie ready to rip the guts out of a real person trying to make personal music. When you're hearing honest expression, it really clicks.

Those early tunes are sooo underdeveloped both lyrically and musically they make you want to leave the album. As if there was no one to tell them, "Hey run with that idea a bit." Petty's voice carries most of it. A couple moments of "Hey". In fact, American Girl is such a brilliant song it carries the whole album. Which was a 2 until it snuck in and dragged the weaklings on its back uphill over the finish line. Should have been 4 but ....

Cool grungy ambience. Should watch the movie. Don't know how to classify this--a strong point. Kraftwerk psychiatrica? Confessional electronica? Gets a little psychy at the end. Medication sounds a little like Dandy Warhols. Or Warhols copied them. Whatever, it was engaging.

Oh yeah, love me some Polly Jean. Stripped down straightforward. Honest open. Spare. Black and white, like the cover. Play it till it bleeds. I'm hooked. And dry.

Totally new to me. Good casual/serious co-mingling. Hallucinatory, like hallucinalabour. Casually intriguing. Poetic. I think I want to move to the English countryside and hang in the trees with them. Do some whalespotting. Some queenspotting.

While there are certain positives about the White Stripes, they start sounding repetitive rather quickly. I appreciate the garagey feel, the Detroit grunge, the rootsy touches, the straightforwardness, but give the self-consciousness a break for a sec and I actually like it more.

Hard to listen past the glorification of gangsta life. There is a thread of positive admonition, but he wants to have it both ways. I had too many students try to emulate the fantasy to bad effect. Brilliant rhymes. Groove. But no.

Solid Britpop, steadily engaging and listenable. I get the sense they are partly Stone Roses imitators--but it is hard to imagine a better band to imitate. Lots to like hear. Casually interesting.

Certainly intriguing. I have to accept the steady rhythms and the joyfully aggressive wordplay. Not normally my tea service, but enjoying these steady sips. A strange (to me, at least) foray into the oddest of constructions--synth mixed with drums mixed with guitar, each on its own on the playground but getting along well. I know I'll be re-listening, because or despite the bolt shot through my head.

This pinnacle of the singer-songwriter mountain fell on me when I had just turned 12, the most appropriate age for the music (and I don't mean that in a dismissive way, so was everything else on the radio). I don't think I can sort my affection now from my affection then, or even if I want to. The strings almost make me cringe, though. Please no more. Easily met my young need for socially engaged lyrics.

Thought I was in a Kraftwerk album at first. I'm afraid the formula becomes formulaic too quickly, however--slowing down the tempo isn't inventive, after all. Hard to tell if you are hearing a new song. Better in small doses. would have been 3 if only a couple songs.

A nice departure from the rapid-fire style that my limited exposure tells me dominated at the time. Groovy, R&B style, comfortably sing-along while still hitting the same themes and realities. The interplay between the voices is fine-tuned.

Absolute brilliance. Emmylou absorbed the good side of "country" in the 15+ albums before this one and as the composer of these songs brings that intimate knowledge to perfection and puts the Nashville establishment to shame. "I Don't Want To Talk About It Now" by itself is genius enough to warrant her inclusion in any hall of fame imaginable. The percussion alone. The bass alone. Her voice alone. The phone dial tone alone. Pretty much any other song on Red Dirt, esp. title track, Michelangelo, and J'ai fait tout would qualify it as great. I could go on and on. And on.

Bang out of the gate. But then it stumbled. Rap-cheese metal voiced and guitar-funk just hasn't realized what it should do and what it should avoid. I find myself skipping out of tunes. Enjoyed Underwater Love finally--it seems to have avoided the banal metal limitations. Maybe I was into Woodprcket because it had no vocals. Do not try to imitate War Pigs. Listen to War Pigs.

Steady. Steady as she goes. Turn it UP. Chill. Groove. Organize your bookshelf. Pay attention.

I appreciate snippets, like the opening drums and the guitar in I Don't Believe or Living, but the whole too often teeters dangerously on the edge of collapsing into uninteresting 80s synth pop. Listen for the good parts.

So far the music and the lyrics are faux complex. You have succeeded in your attempt to totally turn me off.

Fun. Foolin', but don't be fooled--they know what they're doing. Who knew there could be so much grammar? And, if I were rating for the proper use of the subjunctive, A+. These are killer rhymes

This album is laying eggs under my skin and they are erupting in my mind. Oddly archaic and contemporary at the same time. I don't know if I'm listening to a remaster, but every clang and wail of the guitar rings crystal clear and the vocal floats breathlessly bright on top. They seem to explore every vein they imply. I'd rest on the rocks too.

I was first encouraged to listen to this in 2004 and I was curious to see how my engagement had evolved since then: turns out, not much. I have the same reservations and appreciations. Flashes of brilliance and confusion. I can't separate the showtune bedrock, insightful critique of American history, the pop sensibilities of heyday Beach Boys, classical references, operatic drama, mature wonderment, and pop Freudianism into the appropriate boxes. I can see how it has become mythic for some, but don't share the acolytes' wonderment.

Hard (impossible?) to write about Murmur in 2025 without considering the subsequent R.E.M. catalogue. It was a kid musician's dream--imitating the guitar runs and mystic singing after endless tape rewinding. It still felt like true underground. We walked (we thought) into cool. Though we can argue endlessly now about if they eventually sold out, sold out then came back, lost it, never lost it, ad infinitum, our love then feels justified. The first leg of a brilliant marathon..

Oh wow. Ethereal. Profound. Epic. Game changing. Life changing.

About time punk (three years since the Bollocks) went for the understated comic potentialities! Punchy, power punk, precise, in tune, satiric, self-aware. These guys are having fun and you should be having fun too. Fun can get tiring, right?

A kind of casual look into early 90s alt-pop. I never got too much behind the Lemonheads because of aforementioned alt-poppiness. It wasn't bad, nor was it grabbing me by the lapels and shaking. Casual.

1971, huh? Country rock rearing its exploratory head. With exploration, sometimes you find gold, sometimes you just wander around looking for it. Mostly gold or at least pyrite, but a certain sameness pervades this a little and the lyrics can seem cliched sometimes. I suppose its presence here speaks to its critical appeal, but I'm in the okay I guess boat.

Foundational folk, I understand, but her voice when it reaches high can be off-putting--too much reedy wavering can make me cringe. Sorry Joan, it's me, not you.

Great great mix. The impressive videos that came out don't hurt my appreciation. Often haunting. An exemplary achievement.

I am a fan of them so this album confirms my admiration. Is science rock a genre? A spoonful sounds a ton. Soft bullet, soft bulletin, whatever. Operatic, symphonic, poetic, ick upon interplanetary lick. The title separates music and songs, which makes me focus on the compositional. Which means don't settle back--pay attention.

Weird elevated to idiosyncratic genius (this means you, Mark E.). Even the title is one edge off from expectations--we get to look at the subject as it's drawn out all over the place under withering satire. The nonsinging invites you to hear the droning, driving insistence of the music more clearly. I can't hear enough.

Lots to see as a good job here: driving rhythm, real lyrics, creative guitar, musically aware production. Not a fan of the invasive strings, the borderline pop singing. I go back to The Holy Bible for a better Manic vibe, or a couple songs at the end of the album (Australia or Interiors).

Hard to escape the drowning strings, but when you hear just her voice you are transported. Woman could sing. Unrequited love's a bore, and yessir I've got it bad.

Well I am certainly attracted to the cover's flamboyant display of their ahem charms, but I am not sure I can get behind the DIY-pre-riot grrl-punk/postpunk aesthetic, though Typical Girls begins to confront the male gaze and what lies behind it (a marketing ploy?). I think I am beginning to hear a very interesting sound, but it needs to be worked out a little more to be fully engaging. I like the idea of this.

On the strength of Papa Was A Rolling Stone alone, the Temptations should get a Mount Rushmore spot. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face doesn't hurt either--released here July 27th, Roberta Flack's more well known take was March 27. Flack's was great, but Temptation's gets into my head more, insinuating the lilt into my grey matter synesthetically--I see it and feel it. A lot of directions to get lost in. The groove here is deep enough to drown in.

Laid back to the point of rabid somnambulism. Nodding, yes, but not nodding off, no never--nodding on. I am totally along for the local (Philly!) new to me ride.

Groove. Sure wish I had an LP cover in my hands to pore over. Cisco engages, then City, Country, City really gets happening. That pulsing rhythm underlying the jazzy horn--and more. Just never quits. Psych-funk ghetto rising.

Damn, that bass line! The Arabic influences are cool but they sometimes get kind of buried. The solo guitar leads are magical. The speechifying detracts from grabbing groove. A world vibe that can flirt with the simplistic, sadly.

Ouch, synth pop banalities I can't listen to.

What do you do after you save the queen? You die for 9 minutes. Then have some spoken word attacking religion. Not that any late night dorm rant couldn't do it better, but the platform here is wider. Annalisa is one lane where post-punk hits the ground running. Now we're really done with expectations: you get to define them for good or ill. Television for beauty and grace, PiL for abrasion.

Okay, 1965 covers? I can get behind the drums, but a lot of it borders on one-note tedium. I can imagine where they wanted to go with this, but I am not sure they got too far down the path.

Not that it doesn't exhibit endless talent--it just doesn't appeal.

Not understanding, but I am totally grabbing the feel. It seems to be chancing differing tones and approaches, a nice feel for what works.

I've had this cd forever and played the hell out of it when I got it. Be-In and Boys Better set a nice tone for what follows--ethereal and idiosyncratic. I absolutely HATE band names that pun on things irrelevant, but grrr can't avoid it.

Not sure I can get on The Police bandwagon. I like songs like Deathwish, but cringe at Message in a Bottle-style blah (this means you, Walking On the Moon). They have some talent, just wish it were more to my tastes.

I guess it sounds a bit ahead of its time for 1966, but I don't get the sense they have a vision for themselves other than what they are not. The music sounds partly there but the vocal is just too off-putting though for me to give the music a chance to engage.

Is the list preordained or is this only because he just died? I confess being an acolyte of the first three and feeling at the time they were starting to pander to new fans (now I would call myself a bitch-ass rock snob), though why did I immediately not revel in the brilliance of Wheels of Confusion/Straightener? Maybe I was confusing polished self-awareness for lack of urgency? That being said, what fool allowed Changes to be recorded? There are a couple more lapses but all in all they are at the height of their powers.

Seems a little less than necessary for 1001. It is a bit more than usual lyrically: I am enjoying paying attention. So, not exceptional but competent and occasionally intriguing.

Can't...even...listen.

Pleasant enough pop. So far not dramatically interesting enough to rate 1001. Have I become jaded? I am enjoying it well enough and the production is spot on. Just likeable, not earthshaking.

Not being local to the Northwest, this came out of nowhere like an earthquake, flood, and hurricane combined. Of course the hype machine behind it went into overdrive and neglected to mention the source actually derides the presence of the machine. I still laugh at the flannel explosion (hunters' and farmers' revenge). Sure was great that glam metal soon died a well-deserved death. While Nirvana wasn't the only rep, it deserves recognition here for helping to inject needed life-saving meds into the moribund body of pop. 5 for the relief it brought.

Recently tried some of this--not too much toward my liking. Hard to get around the voicing. Punk is trying to find a way forward, holding hands with Geno. A good effort, bombast and braggadocio abound. This album gets much better as it progresses, as if they were learning too.

Hmm I was never a fan of the White Stripes, but this effort struck me as much more interesting. The outsider ethos seems integrated, not even potentially poseur-produced, the practiced simplicity openly inviting. He could seem show-offy to me. Not here.

Damn I love the beats, but often lose it when any vocals intrude. Just don't fit, which could be the point--but then I'm out.

Strong beginning. Don't go in the album for at least 30 minutes after eating. Or you will become obsessed, as I did. Gets math rocky, but math rocky with screeching and talking when you need some. I just love this.

This is hard on me-- could never get behind the sound. Trying to give it a chance, but it seems too banal lyrically. Jazz stylings that seem marching band-inspired. Pointless drum attachments. Yacht rocky until they let Kath go wild, which when he does let's them wildly misunderstand. A 2 except for Kath.

At first grabs me, then repels. Begins well, but then sounds more like Sade wannabe and I start skipping ahead. Couldn't get past the first two, sadly.

I am really getting into this. 1978? Really inventive and compressed at the same time, great to add to the Sex Pistols and Clash of the day. While I quickly caught up to The Clash and Sex Pistols, couldn't have told you one Adverts song beyond Gary Gilmore's Eyes. Wish I hadn't neglected this.

Alright hard for me to separate individual Neil productions from the general obsessive devotion I harbor. You can hear him mastering his genius, not succumbing to it. The car that drove him to this point has crashed into the sand and he's just chilling looking out to the future, toes in the sand. One person left the table, two cans of beer remain? Brilliant.

You had me at leftism, but why? Might as well have been conservativism. Okay for background, but otherwise not my tea.

Hard to listen to with open ears after 50 years of overplay, but Hotel California is actually a pretty good tune. The album, though, is frequently lightweight in other places, almost unlistenably simplistic lyrically and musically.

Man I can't bear his voice. The music of Alsatian Cousin grabs me, but then he starts singing and I flee. Every Day is a faux-serious day. Bengali in Platforms is fucking offensive, more so because it pretends to be understanding. It begins to irritate me more the more I listen.

I am entranced by her voice. And it seems the music is more in the background than in, say, the Sinatra and his ilk's recordings--to this recording's credit. The Gershwin compositions have an enduring timelessness, a defining presence in the American songbook, in no small part maybe to Ella's beautiful interpretation. I don't know as I'll have time for all four discs, but I'll have a delightful time trying.

Jeez that is infectious. G-funk grabs me like the start of hip hop did. I am falling into it while I am trying to avoid the repulsive political details. Snoop and funk elevates this into the stratosphere. Poised right on the line between reflecting and creating the violent background. Haunting.

Her vocals make electronica interesting. I can't say that I am a true fan, but I am intrigued and keep listening to the eerie, throaty, weirdly delicate and inviting compositions.

Definitely listenable pop, but I don't get moved by it--are they too comfortable or am I just too familiar? Songs like It's A Beautiful Day are delightful, though others leave me sleeping. Arena pop has its pluses and minuses.

An event! Just unique and constantly engaging. Merritt's voice dead on to explicate the vagaries of the genre. Endlessly inventive lyrically and musically. How can you make a love song about it being like a chicken with its head cut off? The others contributions are equally appropriate. Just fun to parse and listen to the banjo. Blue? I could dress in black and read Camus. Or be a rabbit.

Just think, 1967 was Sgt. Pepper's and Satanic Majesties. Lazy Old Sun by itself would propel the Kinks into that company, then add David Watts and Waterloo Sunset. So it becomes an impulse in these British Invasioners to explore poetic expression. Revolver really raised the bar and taught everyone to pole vault.

Overwhelming. Bob at his best. Lyrical. Searing. Poetic. I obsessed over Greatest Hits (1967), and when this came out it took me from childhood to adulthood.

Great opener. Driving violin. Driving rhythm too for epic Lovers. These long tunes are great. I imagine myself at a concert just swaying away lost. Maybe not two cds worth and not sure essential. 4 verging toward 3 but the good feelings push to 4. By the way, if you haven't looked it up, a "bang on the ear" is a fond greeting. Laid back driving--make sense?

Great opener. Driving violin. Driving rhythm too for epic Lovers. These long tunes are great. I imagine myself at a concert just swaying away lost. Maybe not two cds worth and not sure essential. 4 verging toward 3 but the good feelings push to 4. By the way, if you haven't looked it up, a "bang on the ear" is a fond greeting. Laid back driving--make sense?

Not normally my go-to but I'm enjoying having this going on in the air around me. Soul dance a term for the genre? Good groove.

Can it get more interesting? No. Riff on riff. Compositional improvisational. Calling it Krautrock seems to miss the point of its elaborate strangeness. Almost as if they forcibly intend you to listen to every note to try to figure out what's going on.

Mark Knopfler gets guitar god points. The mechanically insistent drum track doesn't help this effort, like they had a click track and let it handle all the work. The vocals too can drift into mechanical land, as if Mark gets a groove that he is not comfortable deviating from (except when he's doing Your Latest Trick mode, though that cut is totally yacht-rocky). In fact a lot of this album seems kind of yacht rockish. Can be interesting, though not often enough.

Karen's voicings are magical. Too bad the album seems to be a 70s machine-produced exercise with no originality beyond the aforementioned voicings. I love Reason To Believe. The Help cover is an abomination (sorry Karen). This album has only one thing going for it and that's her voice. Otherwise it doesn't belong.

Damn, this and Sunny Ade the beginning of my love of Afro beat/World. The back story of course is profound, music as life force. The helmets on the cover Nazi-evocative, opposed to the colorful title and Fela (and the music) standing bravely in opposition. 4 songs, 55 minutes, inspires me to not follow and use my senses.

I kind of get into the music-only introductions , but only just (seems mostly juvenile), and when Hetfield starts singing I skip to the next song. Repeat. Why does the guitar sound never change (except for One, and then only partway)? Maybe more later, but by then I just abandoned it.

Hard to not fall back into 20-year-old me listening to this long and late into the night, soon singing along dramatically to every word. For me the apotheosis of my 70s obsessions. Wonderful Hipgnosis cover. Gabriel of course just about perfectly in front but everyone else is at the top of their game, Collins especially. It still works. Magically.

Surprisingly (to me) arresting. Can be pretty self-aware. I love the stripped down directness. Fuck off his disgusting homophobia. Rhymes rule.

The wow really recognizes the new style of the new backing band. We have (many of us) engaged the American Idolization of Janis's voice, but those people don't quite get the intensity right. I don't blame the singers, but American Idol producers. Janis shines on this delicately produced too brief foray into her vocalization. Me and Bobby McGee alone deserves putting her on Mt. Rushmore.

Electronic that has vocals invariably puts me off. Didn't get through one tune.

Seeming a logical outgrowth of indie discovering itself and a totally new approach with punk at the core, the Muses are a road trip of discovery. You can hear what will become Sleater Kinney and the Pixies are fellow travelers. Obsessively intriguing, lyrically, vocally, and musically. Brilliant.

Ouch. Back in 1976 I thought this was the death of rock and roll. Or the abandonment of effort into the lapse of mindless theater. Make it as simple as we can to appeal to the greatest number of people: Flaming Youth. This turned into hair metal, no? Ugh.

Whew, cleanses my palate after yesterday's 1976 entry--interesting lyrics, stripped down musicality, direct presentation, love it. Garage banded Watching the Detectives, but could have done any of these songs joyfully. How much of this album is embedded in your brain, invitations to sing along to the words emphatically? Great.

Beastie Boys take the style but ignore the substance. Not buying it. Bad self? Bad breath? Club Med. Self-parodying.

1974, huh? Seems ahead of its time. Complexity and pop can be friends. Theatricality, glammy, challenging, intriguing. I don't recall this and am loving it.

Lips fan here. Nice to have this recognized. Entertaining robot-rock (is that a term?). As we prepare for the singularity, we might listen to One More Robot for a potential theme song. 2002, way ahead of its time. If it comes to a fight, I hope we have Yoshimi on our side. Love and death, peace and war, agitation and calm. Great album. .

Sympathy alone makes this brilliant, but stuff like No Expectations push it toward a 5. It can get bogged down in sameness sometimes that can push it toward a 4. But damn this is a fun record (Stray Cat Blues!) and belongs at the top of any collection.

Not a good start--the yacht-rocky Born goes on much too long. And then too much string intrudes regularly. Why does every song seem to be treading on too much? An attempt at retro-pop that feels way out of place for 1975.

Damn the first thing to note is Weiss's drums driving this whole thing down the track at 90 mph. Rock steady. Tucker vocals are as distinct and enticing and urgent as any punk rockrr could hope for, and Carrie Brownstein singing along in the passenger seat is the perfect complement. Oh should I say that I have a crush on Brownstein's guitar (and her) lo these many years? Heart Factory stole my heart and she didn't give it back. Every song hits hard, and Jenny is a brilliant closer. Brilliant.

Voice irritates me. Guitar can be excellent. I remember feeling left out of the hype--Jack didn't quite deserve it. When he shuts up and I can hear the guitar, I'm happy. When he backs off the screechy, it works (like You've Got Her In Your Pocket). Or mostly guitar (like Ball and Biscuit).

Nice start to indie sludgecore. I am more than happy to wallow in the mud. Maybe a little monotonous, but worth attending to when they pick it and go like Let Me Come Back or Billy's. It can be hypnotic.

There was a moment when Cohen was somewhat obscure, and then a few brave souls I knew lauded his directness, his simplicity, his poetry. And I was on board with the resurrection effort. Now after he seems to be an American Idol staple I am more, justified or not, critical. I still like the directness and poetic effort sometime, but it can wear pretty thin. He seems sometimes to be shocking for shocking's sake and his lyrics can border on cliche. There is something there, and I would like a little more of it.

Fuckin'-aye! Mr. Francis and Ms. Deal shine brightly, as does the rest of the musicianship here. At once weird and familiar, forward and regular, calming and disturbing. It is only a second to get this in 1989 to grunge barrel-rolling the '90s. Listen carefully: every song here grabs, shakes, won't let go.

Not a fan of synthpop (in fact I hate it), but Lennox's voice nearly gets me to value this album. They have a couple tunes on this that are arresting, her voice finding registers that are an instrument in itself. Sweet Dreams, while more popular, is one of the lesser efforts here. Jennifer or the opening cut, Love is a Stranger, much more dynamic. Give them an extra listen.

The Femi doesn't fall far from the Fela, as they say, and here it is audibly true. Hard to imagine anyone could not move to this groove; he sure knows when to lie low and when to come on strong. This shit makes me no end of happy. What's the old saying, not my revolution if I can't dance to it? Clearly we could start revoluting here. I guess we can keep up with Nigeria on corruption now.

Love the unique only-we-do-it sound. There is something haunting, both emotionally and sonically, about these songs. This is indie-pop at its most hard to pigeon-hole: avant-pop? noise-pop? post-post-punk pop? indie-pop? The punk ethos is lurking just beneath the eerie dreamy lyrical sound. I have no idea what the lyrics are, and don't care. Brilliant.

Yeah, no.

This first entered my youthful world as a weirdly entrancing curiosity put on the stereo by my musically far-advanced older neighbor. Same guy who brought Led Zeppelin, Blue Oyster Cult, and Monty Python into my world. I still find it weirdly entrancing, mesmerizing even. Less weird now that some decades of electronica have intervened. I like this cover's elegant simplicity but remember a highway scene from the first? In the future, I would become pleasantly stoned to this. And could always since first listen say faux-robotically "bon bon bon, ottobon" on command. Foundational.

Okay, arena wannabes make good and get their gig on. I think, though, they could use a lesson on modulation--they seem always full-on. The garagey gin-soaked approach can work (I like California Waiting best), though it can seem pushy at times. Solid effort.

Pop punk never had it so good. Nothing profound here, just solid musicianship, good production, perfectly propulsively attuned to youthful sensibilities. Definitively catchy.

Top 40 takes over but I'm not sure I have to hear it before I die. You can hear some punk roots, but that sound is mostly hidden and the more it peeks out the more I like them. Picky, but I keep asking myself "the Go-Go's what? their clothes? their attitude? their grammar?" The surf is cool, would like even more. Points for carving out all-female success.

A little too plaintive for me. That being said, I am giving it a listen openly. It has its moments--I think I just want more of them. No vocals very engaging.

The music itself seems secondary to the importance of the political message--and here the music itself is viscerally (and delightfully) engaging. While it doesn't reach the heights of, say, Marley, few things in the universe do. So just kick back, doob up, enjoy.

Damn, hard to not fall right into this. I can only imagine what a live show (aka frontal lobe destroy mission) of this would have been like. Frenetic? Yeah, freaknetic. Keeps on keeping on surprising. If you become attached to one run, hang on, it will quickly turn into something else you'll want to hang on to.

I struggle a bit to get behind them. Not that it's bad, just not quite for me. The idea of their weirdness is appealing, not so much the execution.

I must say I miss NWA. The Ice Cube sound is one-note, mechanical, repetitive. To me boring. I find little engaging here.

As far as old-school bluegrass goes, here's your mother lode. And this also includes exemplars and heroes, geniuses and visitors, brilliants and solids. If you want an intro to the form, this is a great place to start, intriguingly eclectic.

Winwood a legend, of course, but this is pretty much yachtrock. I am not really happy with the term "soft rock"--why bring rock into it at all? It's as if you brought your boring uncle to the party, tries to talk to everyone and they are politely listening to him but not really engaging. I have trouble getting through any of these cuts. Sorry, Steve.

Not sure if this is true, but someone told me once Josh and cohort used to throw a generator and amps in the little truck, head to the desert, have an all-night jam. This album is for the desert what Allman Bros. was for the south, and vice-versa. Imaginary or not, that's what I hear. Head changing. Get stoned, get horny, get transported.

Fine enough. Hole's Live Through This was profound, much more "real," and a really tough act to follow. I enjoy Celebrity though it doesn't knock my socks off, even though I quite enjoy a couple cuts (Northern Star, Boys On the Radio).

I'm not very much into the possibility of "soft rock," as you may recall. Grant invokes, sometimes regretfully, 70s singer-songwriter vibes. His voice and the lyrics are positives, though at times the schmaltz lurks, and the sound can lean that way too. Chicken Bones stays far away from that and it works great. I love the creative forcefulness of the anthemic Jesus Hates.

While Roundabout got all the attention, Heart of the Sunrise transported us more. Foundational prog, it still works today--creative, inventive, mysterious, built for drug-euphoria accompaniment (marijauna, LSD, mushrooms, Seagram's, your choice) (hey, just trying to do our part). I defy anyone not to sing along with "In and around the lake," even if you don't try more. It is possible without too much of a stretch to recognize the head-banging possibilities invited by half of this.

Grungy garagy punky riffs, repeat, rave on, right! Formulaic yes, but the supply and demand is fun along the way. Not sure you should listen to more than a couple songs at a time, lest they turn into the same song.

Future-pop never looked (or sounded) so good. I am not sure why it belongs here, though it is engaging and creative, sure, but its very faroutwardness pulls it into a category that has only itself as a member (not legal, but hey).

Not sure I know where to put this. The Eagles seem to be the parent, country-influenced pop slickly produced. Gin Blossoms and Sheryl Crow close relatives. Even though better than many similar projects, just doesn't compel me.

Suppose everyone here knows this pretty well. All I can say is the non-hits remind us just how damn fun and creative the band could be. The roots run deep, all the way from Memphis and the delta to France.

A little too much easy in the easy-listening, though pleasant enough. The songs don't get interesting until Cecilia. The Boxer of course a gem. Moments of delight mixed with head for the exits. The pluses carry the 4.

Beautiful production, epitomized by Always It's You. Everything is spot on. This Love Hurts shows off the tight vocal that made it so coverable. Some seriously perfect session work here. Hair gel helps.

Some great guitar work, totally listenable, but to be honest the songs seem a little lightweight at times even if moments of casual brilliance regularly shine through. Pretty tight. My kind of groove pervades.

A little disorienting. While I appreciate the skill and effort, seems the old traditional instrument and modern electronic devices are best left in their own corners. Sure, they can come out and play sometimes, but not for too long or they start fighting.

While Autobahn primed me to appreciate this more, it appears to me a little self-indulgent with the vocals. Just when I start getting into it, the vocal intrudes, and then in the other songs seems to not belong at all. Title track works; wish the others had followed suit.

Take it Easy is a brilliant pop/rock song--hear that banjo! But I feel the dominant vibe veers too much toward easy listening. I'd have preferred the more rocky Chug and am skipping over a lot of the rest except Peaceful Easy Feeling. Listen to the great guitar in Tryin', not the sophomoric lyrics.

I recognize the historical significance, but don't quite fit in with the adulation. I am afraid I thought Horses pretentious or maybe just not all that much. It's okay. Maybe I'm just reacting to the deification.

The punk roots showing through to great effect. A profound follow-up to Nevermind's breakthrough. I think it holds up really well.

What a great way to open a great album. Rhythmic wonderland throughout. Love songs with no love, just the potential for love. Radiohead seems always trying to not be a Radiohead album and largely succeeds.

The electronic force driving this to me is both attractive and off-putting. The mechanical sound is not open to melodic modulation. The sameness is good in small doses. Worth hearing, I guess, but I'll probably not check them out more.

Okay the Jack White lionization tour skipped my house. Very creative and interesting guitar. Keyboards great addition to the songs. But shut up.

Guess I missed Thanksgiving--Kid A? A solid 4. This Germs makes my day. For all the punk thrash, it has great accompanying polish, lyrically, sonically, everything working.

The soundtrack of my high school years, well, at least the big four songs. The coolest kids had the double album, which I sporadically heard. Now hearing the songs again, I am impressed by their joyful energy, their exuberance, steady inventive freshness, and decided lack of polish. Go Pete!

Hypnotic. Find groove, repeat. Fun at first, but a whole album? Becomes a little, well, hypnotic. At their best, in small doses, really interesting (and I really liked Dry The Rain and some other earlier stuff).

Really starts to grab. Electronica not usually my cup of listen but this is endlessly intriguing. Shout-out to the Pixies? Didn't see that coming. Is raphop a word? Electronirap? Fun.