1001 Albums Summary

When I first heard the piano syncopation of "Pyramid Song" it was a random mash of chords and atmosphere; when the drums kicked it, it all made beautiful sense. Thom Yorke's vocals are ethereal and haunting, as they are on "Like Spinning Plates" as well. Though there is the meandering industrial soundscape of "Pulk, Pull Revolving Doors", it is more likely that a structured song is hidden amongst the sparse instrumentation and beats of "Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box" and "I Might Be Wrong." Amnesiac successfully infuses electronica into what is essentially guitar rock with the guitar removed. "Morning Bell/Amnesiac" is another version of "Morning Bell" on Kid A, and what I imagine was probably closest to the original writing of the song. "Life In A Glasshouse" first turned me on to appreciate jazz clarinet; they never sounded like that when playing "Louie, Louie" in marching band! "You and Whose Army?" is especially good live, where Thom taunts the audience in an "audience vs. Radiohead" showdown before the epic climb. Bonus points for pushing the boundaries of their genre, again, again.

A galloping cocksure cocktail of excess, speed, and libidinous glutton, this album packs in more notes per second than the Micro Machine Man’s stenographer, all the while trailblazing headlong into self-centered hedonism while the rest of the 80’s followed obediently in its wake. Gloriously self-indulgent

Solemn, earnest, and poetic, Leonard Cohen helped usher in the “sensitive singer/songwriter” genre. His reverent voice serves his artistic intentions, but this album suffers from the tracklist order. However lyrical, the first four songs are monochromatic in style, tempo, and instrumentation, serving the listener either as an elongated meditation or a mesmerizing soporific. If one can stay awake, they are greatly rewarded as more instruments are added and the tempo picks up a bit. This change in direction is not echoed by the lyrics, which benefit from remaining poetic, visual, and a studied reflection of the human condition. The album remains at its full potential onwards, stirring emotional longing with concise phrases. The opening songs are individual works of art, but detract from the art form of a cohesive album. Once that early chrysalis is shed, this rest of album takes to the heavens. Great songs, but as an album it feels like two separate works.

This is one of those albums that needs some time to really settle in; I have not heard it before, but it is evident there is an effort to make something special and push the boundaries of conventional pop songwriting. First exposure may appear to go off on tangents, but subsequent listens allows one to hear how each piece of the puzzle fits into the whole, and the original sprawling melodic lines and chord structures reveal more intention. Indeed, I had to re-write my review after the second listen. There are enough left turns in melody, chords, production, and instrumentation to keep the listener's interest, if you like less-conventional song writing as I do. Calling out his influences by name (e.g., John Lennon and Andy Warhol) helps to focus the listener on Bowie's particular grounding while immediately pushing those ambitions to the next level. Somehow he distills glam out from hard rock, theatrics out of theater, psychedelia out from spacey, heavily-delayed guitars, and is able to channel a unique glam pop psychedelia through piano-led orchestration without ever firmly stepping foot into one style too long. I always think of Bowie as an iconic artist--bigger than just a singer--but I never thought about him as a musician; I was moved to look up who played that great piano on this album and was happily surprised it was him. He is equally confident in his voice as his playing and songwriting, experimenting with variations of his abilities, echoing Lennon in "Changes," Dylan in "Song for Bob Dylan", and Lou Reed in "Queen Bitch." Always serving the song, he is both reverent and irreverent as needed.. It's evident that so many bands were influenced by Bowie; I hear everything from Elton John to MGMT and The Killers. I had previously picked up the wrong album by Bowie, liking only the single and not the rest, despite multiple listens. However, I can finally see what the fuss is about. One can dismiss this as self-indulgent and a whimsical flight of fancy but if you let it in, you'll be thankful that such an album exists to color the world and to normalize chasing one's own musings. Turn and face the strange.

Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to listening this one as I had an uninformed preconceived notion of 90's Iggy Pop sans Stooges and generally do not like "punk" music; but I like hearing music I haven't heard, so I gave it a fair listen. The first song is just what I would expect from an album called "Raw Power." Dirty and driving, it chugs along with distorted American rock n' roll, wearing Aviator sunglasses and a black leather jacket while one-handedly eating a hamburger AND smoking a cigarette. Pure attitude. (I'm not sure if Iggy owns a black leather jacket, or even a single shirt for that matter.) Expecting more of the same, "Gimme Danger" really surprised me in direction and execution, answering the question of what The Doors would sound like with different and distorted instrumentation. As a whole, this album continually oscillates between some throw-away power chord biker bar house music and more inspired and dangerous melodies that seem a natural evolution of predecessors like the Rolling Stones and The Kinks. Iggy's chameleon vocals shine throughout, employing cat calls and howls, breathy whispers and growls in "Penetration," and morphing effortlessly between Captain Beefheart, Jim Morrison, Glenn Danzig, and Julian Casablancas in songs like "Death Trip" and the swaggering "I Need Somebody." Instrumentally, it's very one-note. The guitar/bass/drums/vocal arrangement is dully consistent but at least performed with enthusiastic abandon. This plays out more like a live album; one can easily imagine how entertaining of a show this spectacle will be in small club. Much like a bicycle in motion will keep itself upright, the sheer momentum of the "Raw Power" guided missile auto-corrects its trajectory before ever allowing itself to steer off-course too much, but it is quite surprising how much variety they are still able to pack into such a narrow focus. It won't stir your vulnerabilities, but it doesn't have to; sometimes you just want to pump your fist and nod your head.

Listening to this band and this album just now for the first time, I catch glimpses of Devo, drum-machine-era The Cure, The Clash, The Talking Heads (particularly on "Went Crazy"), and Tears For Fears' synths on their best album "The Hurting", all which pre-date this work. I can't speak to their influence or how they shaped the soundscape within the context of the culture of their time, but on the surface I don't hear anything particularly unique that The Teardrop Explodes bring to the table. That's not to say the album isn't any good. The rhythm section's steady and tight vamp on each song keeps the album moving and upbeat. Lyrics often repeat in a similar vamp and are delivered in a voice similar to Adam Ant or When In Rome's "I Promise." "Treason" benefits from a break from the hypnotic pulse of the first two songs and welcomes in a much-needed chord changes for the chorus, making it easily one of the better songs, along with "When I Dream." The extended version of the album I heard contained 6 additional songs: "Reward" and would-be title track "Kilimanjaro" which greatly improve the album and provides a bit more range and variation than the whole. Shame they were left off. Fatigued and little bored, I wasn't interested in listening to the last 4 bonus tracks. Even if they were trailblazers for their time (though I am in no way convinced of this), history shows that others have done similar stylings but more attuned to my tastes. There are albums I appreciate more than this that still would not make it on my own personal list of "the 1001 most important and influential [albums] in popular music." This would be an easy three stars for me, but I'm degrading to two; being on this list suggests its appreciation is already over-inflated.

This album has serious staying power; it was on the Billboard list of "top 100 best-selling albums of the year" for almost 14 years, and for good reason. My previous posts have complained about some albums that were too one-note, but Dark Side of the Moon is the penultimate example of showing variation in chord structure, instrumentation (saxophone, synths, and female lead vocal), lyrical themes, and even time signatures while still maintaining a consistent and cohesive vibe throughout the album's entirety, which plays out more like one long engaging musical piece than a collection of individual songs. The songs segue so effortlessly into each other that I often wonder if this was written beginning to end, just letting the music go wherever it wanted to. The playing is as melodic as the vocals with each member showcasing their chops in deliberate measure, aware of when to lead and when to follow (e.g., Roger Waters' foundational bass lines keeping a solid momentum throughout most of the work vs. leading the charge head-on on "Money"). I'm not a big fan of the whimsical sprawling noodling of jam bands, but--although Pink Floyd are no stranger to elongated musical tangents and progressions--their endeavors seem more purposeful and skillfully lead us on a journey while pointing out interesting features in the details like a good tour guide before returning us safely home. The epic climax of "The Great Gig in the Sky" concludes the first side of the album and honestly could end the work right there; but like an impassioned lover, the second half invites one for a round two and leaves one even more satisfied in the duration and the aftermath. The swinging "Brain Damage" into the waltz of "Eclipse" is the greatest transition between songs here, packing a punch and building to another epic finale. My only complaint is that--like "Revolution 9" on The Beatles (aka The White Album)--"On The Run" is purposefully placed to show the listener "we still validate and delve into the avant-garde," but it does go on a bit longer than needed to make that point. For an album that demands your attention, perhaps it is good to give a brief respite here (however anxiety-ridden) in preparation for what is to come. I'd be remiss to neglect mentioning the amazing production on this album by Alan Parsons, especially given the limited techniques and methods used before the digital age put a full studio in everyone's laptop. The clarity, depth, warmth, and space are perfectly balanced here. In hundreds of years from now, when the world has been saturated with so much 'entertainment' new, old, and older, and all the derivative works and promotional campaigns no longer hold any weight, there will be a short attention given to only a handful of albums from the past. Dark Side of the Moon will forever be one of them.

Sweet Life! I first heard/saw Frank Ocean performing Forrest Gump on the Grammys, and I was captivated. I kept an ear out for more, but our paths didn't cross again until now. Conceptually, we hear Frank changing channels throughout the album with ear-candy interludes. Similarly, his voice alters between spoken word rap, Stevie Wonder funk (especially on the too-short "Fertilizer"), and a clear falsetto. Sometimes lush and warm ("Thinking About You," "Crack Rock") and at times minimalistic ("Pilot Jones," "White," the "Benny and the Jets" chords of "Super Rich Kids") the instrumentation stretches its wings comfortably, never showing danger of going too far. Maybe the whole would benefit by getting a little dangerous; it is equally possible that it would kill the vibe. With the exception of "Pyramids" (containing the intriguing imagery of "Cleopatra working at The Pyramid tonight"), the songs hover around 4 minutes or less (mostly less). If a song is not to your taste, something new and different is served moments later. However, I didn't find anything off-color on this album, save some of the occasional language which is relatively mild for the time. "Bad Religion" is the best track on this album, proving that Frank is not relying on clever production and smooth vocals; there is a true songwriter in him.

Like Bono, I'm also a bit over "Morrissey: The Persona!!" Luckily, I'm an adult and can look past that and take the music at face value, as all music should be. There's a particular sound I associate with The Smiths--warm, lush, jangly, blue--that is certainly on display here, but I am surprised to hear them move those sounds to various styles of music such as the upbeat reggae of the opening track and the country-blues of "Death at One's Elbow." Three tracks in, "Death of a Disco Dancer" was the first song that really impressed me with its pseudo-psychedelia off-time guitar picking and experimental piano playing. I can hear traces of The Cure ("The Empty World," "End") and similarly can hear repeating chords as a solid groove instead of boring or uninspired. "Girlfriend In A Coma" is classic Smiths. Like a great Queen song, the melody is first established, and subsequent verses and choruses are elevated variations on that theme. Though this is somewhat "second verse same as the first," it also isn't at all. Along with "Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before," "Unhappy Birthday," and "I Won't Share You," this song assists in leaning the album towards a soft and melancholic pop despite whatever other variations they employ. Wow! "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me" is just the right playing, production, singing, chord structure, and lyrics all at once. It is cinematic, mature songwriting. Easily the highlight for me. "Paint a Vulger Picture" tells the Hollywood music executives' story of finding out their star/cash cow has died. A snide and heartless look at corporate business in general, it's an interesting story I haven't considered much before; though I found it hard to empathize with its elitist sentiment, like a song mourning the shrinkage of one's stock margins due to a bad acquisition. Morrissey is more a writer than a lyricist, shining most when completing a thoughtful paragraph in a verse rather than some repetitive phrase in a chorus. Truly, his verse is a verse. His delivery is smooth and effortless; he never dares to push his voice beyond a comfortable listening range. Every song isn't amazing, but there's not a miss on this album. Some songs in the YouTube playlist played alongside their corresponding videos, where Morrissey furrows his brow and plays schmaltzy for the camera, and I am reminded to turn away and just let the nice sounds wash over me.

I was once on the boardwalk of the Jersey Shore, riding The Zipper. This is a carnival ride where your gondola hangs from an elevated conveyor belt supported by a tall beam in the middle. The conveyor belt moves you from one side to the other, over the top, and then back down to the underside again. The whole conveyor spins from the central beam while the belt is going, and the gondolas swing freely from the conveyor too. From the outside, the circles within loops within circles make a striking visual against the water. However, once locked inside the gondola cage, the rider's experience is much more chaotic. Everything flew out of my pockets (thank goodness for the enclosed cage), and I sprawled out in every direction in an effort to stabilize myself from being thrown about and to pin down my keys, pocket change, and wallet before the G forces weaponized them against me. I was nauseous and couldn't tell up from down; looking out towards the blue-on-blue of the sea-meets-sky did nothing to help. I nervously completed the ride and was able to keep my lunch, but never rode that ride again. This album is the opposite of that. From the outside, it seems chaotic and unmanageable. If you're not scared off at first, you can get inside and find form and function and marvel at the ever-changing directions, and you want to experience it again immediately. "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us" initiates the listener with a three-minute summary of the entirety of Mr. Bungle's Disco Volante. By the time "Falling in Love with Myself Again" completes, you realize there is plenty of melody here, but to full embrace it, one must recognize and discard their preconceived notions of standard verse-chorus-verse-bridge songwriting. I watched a documentary on Sparks, which was the first I've heard of them. I was impressed then, but still didn't dig deeper until now. One nice thing about this "1001albumsgenerator.com" project is the sheer variety of what you hear; it helps to put each work into a grand perspective, regardless of time. (One bad thing is finding the time to sit with some newfound gems and give additional listens, as there is more to hear tomorrow!!) Already listening for the third time; it keeps my interest without effort. I doubt I'll tire of this one any time soon. A work like this can only happen at the helm of skilled musicians and songwriters; they know what is commonplace and choose to push beyond it. Can't tell if time will shift my 4.5 to a 4 or 5; though inventive and fun upon early listens, it may be too jarring to age well, but I am glad it exists. Submit. Buy the ticket and take the ride. (Just avoid The Zipper.)

Kicking off the album mid-clapping, we're immediately thrust into a situation where we're looking around trying to figure out what is going on. We're in a game show, apparently hosted by DJ Lance. Ok, I'm buckled in . . . let's see where this goes. It's kind of cheating rapping over "Three is a Magic Number;" easily one of my very favorites from Schoolhouse Rock!, it's an instant win for me (Blind Melon did an amazing cover of the original, btw). The bright yellow album cover and hand-scrawled font sets you up for an expression of funk and joy, and they deliver in spades. This is the hip hop I love from my youth, when there was playfulness and themes beyond smoking weed, gang bangin', and hoes (though "Ghetto Thang" and Jenifa--"known as a gardening tool"--does represent, but at least less explicitly (save "De La Orgee")). Indeed, "Take it Off" seems more about discarding out-dated fashion than insinuating that it's business time. I like the skits interspersed with songs and shorter little ditties ("A Little Bit of Soap"). At 23 tracks, there's a continual entertaining jump between the three, and we get to hear James Brown "uh," some French verse from Mars, and learn that the whole world has dandruff. De La Soul takes the music seriously, but not the content. The samples are well-curated and stacked on each other to maximum groove potential. At its slowest, it's still mid-tempo; this album keeps moving and brings the party with it. I hear their lasagna is pretty good too.

Is this the famed Jimmy and Chicken Shack from Jimmie's Chicken Shack? No?! Well, that was a waste of words. . . . The best jazz albums are the ones where you don't know who the star is because all of the players shine; sure, Jimmy Smith is cleaning up on the organ, but don't discount the saxophone and guitar playing. Not much to say about this; it's the jazz I like to put on in the background and go about my day, occasionally stopping to savor the tasty bits. It's good, but one of the 1001 best albums?? I don't see anything that is particularly innovative or sets it apart; perhaps it was unique to have jazz organ back then, but Herbie Hancock was the one to eventually elevate the niche. It's a 3, but dropped to a 2 for being on the list. Good, but not praise-worthy.

Album cover = "Hey everyone! Look to your right! **takes picture** No, dude your OTHER right! Sheesh. . . . whatever. Print!" I only know the opener, which is great. Can it get better from here?? If "Sonnet" is any indication, then yes. This brings me back to that late 70's "Laughter in the Rain" soft rock, a genre wholly missing in music today (for the future aliens reading our reviews, that's 2024 BCE). "It's country or it's metal!!" Bad edit at 2:05 is jarring, throws off the mood. Otherwise this song would perfectly reach what it's going for. . . . Rock n' Roll can be all about attitude and delivery over good writing; style over substance. Luckily, "The Rolling People" is well written and avoids the standard trappings of the genre where the guitars are tastefully distorted and not trying to overcompensate and show how tough they can be, dude. The post-Jane's Addiction extended jam at the end doesn't seem overindulgent as much as just letting the moment ride. This song seems like it was well-tested live as the closer before being committed to tape. Bop-Bop Bana, Bop-Bop Banana-nana. These guys can really write a slow song; we find another perfection in the slow melody of "The Drugs Don't Work" where the production does a great job of re-interpreting what is essentially a country song. And what a great line: "like a cat in bag waiting to drown, I'm coming down." This is the first time I've heard this album. I'm not going to review this track-by-track, but by now I see where this is heading. Atmospheric, catchy, lush, and spacious, Urban Hymns is a great vibe, equally content as background ambiance as it is turned up and blasting, center-stage. The orchestration throughout the album adds majesty without overshadowing the fact that this is still guitar rock. Always on the verge of going into psychedelia, they remain grounded in their pop-rock formula, save for "Neon Wilderness" which goes a bit further out but stays too safe for optimal peaking. Yes, I'm a little late to The Verve party, but I contend that they're a little late to the 90's party. This album arrived when grunge and post-grunge were all but dead, and rap was reeling in a much-overdue golden age of creativity, and rightfully dominating the airwaves. Had this been released around 1994-1995 to help pick up the pieces when grunge started dissolving, The Verve may have been a heavyweight alongside Radiohead to push new boundaries of rock into the next decade. Each band member and the producer are doing exactly what they should to best serve these songs. Having heard nothing else by The Verve, I'm curious if they ever expanded their form from this triumphant jumpstart or if they stayed content constrained within their own walls. This album suggests that they have the skills to do something truly original and great, but as it is Urban Hymns remains a touch too safe and predictable.

The Smiths often sway, but this opener ROCKS! And at 6 minutes, they really want to make a statement right out of the gate. I'm not sure if the bass playing is more inspired or turned up in the mix more, but it is consistently the instrumental highlight on this album for me, moving melodically throughout the songs while the guitar lines mostly consist of frantic strumming and quick chord changes. Morrissey finally pulls at my heart strings in "I Know It's Over," finally pushing beyond the relaxed, disconnected croon of his comfortable range and pushing a wailing moan towards the end: "Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head!" It is a highlight of the album, along with "Cemetary Gates" and "The Boy with the Thorn in His Side." Confident in their sound, they apply it to reggae on "Frankly, Mr. Shankly," a longing RnB of "I Know It's Over," a country shuffle of "Vicar in a Tutu," and a post-punk "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others" reminiscent of The Cure's "Fire in Cairo" and "Play for Today" (done 6-7 years previously, I might add). I'm happy to hear such a variety in the approach to their sound, which consistently stamps their brand on any genre they touch and then transcend. Whatever The Smiths do, they make it their own.

This is what I'm here for, folks! Not simply geeking out about my favorite albums or deep diving into an album from which I only heard 2-3 singles, but to discover any masterpiece I completely overlooked. "It doesn't matter what I say, so long as I sing with inflection," sings John Popper in Blues Traveler's "Hook." The beauty of listening to songs in languages you don't understand is that you don't focus on what they are saying, but what they are emoting. It is pure transmission from heart to heart, a complete experience untainted by external meaning. One need only hear the second track for an example. There is a vocal descent on "Suliram" that aches of Connie Converse's intensely heart-breaking "One by One." I am placed between two worlds of a mother's love and of a lover's lost and distancing love. Maybe I'm a sucker for a slow song as I continually find I list them as an album's highlights. True to form, "Suliram" and "Olilili" are my highlights. I'm happy to see the latter track dedicated to highlighting Miriam and her rich and balanced backing choir; though from another time and place, I am transported to solemn Catholic Sundays at Mass, when the music and performance of the choir could stir a calm and all-encompassing love within, whose songs I still turn to for comfort when confronted with my fears (especially the works of John Michael Talbot). Of course, one cannot deny the captured joy of "The Retreat Song" (featuring an impressive flautist), "The Click Song," and "Mbube." I had to look it up, as the similarity is too uncanny: "Mbube" is a cover song originally recorded in 1939, and the year after Miriam's recording, it was covered in English by The Tokens as "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." Everyone sings about love and love lost; I appreciate when songs like "The Naughty Little Flea" focus on a topic or moment that is largely ignored in traditional songwriting. Use everything, people! I am struck by how similar her voice on "House of the Rising Sun" sounds to Julie Andrews singing the intro to "Feed the Birds" from Mary Poppins. Similarly, the laughing male vocal in "One More Dance" recalls "I Love To Laugh" from the same movie (released 4 years later, 1964). To write a great song is one thing, but to capture a great performance is a whole other devil whose alchemy is impossible to tarnish with age and time. I usually wouldn't mark highly any album that contained so many covers, but my accolades here are for the stellar performances by the singers and musicians alike. In Jewish mysticism, a Merkabah is the flying chariot of God. Some believe you can imagine yourself inside a spinning Star of David and use it for astral projections and for creating wormholes to and from other dimensions (beware the YouTube k-hole). I would like to imagine that Miriam Makeba stems from this same tradition of connecting two worlds.

This came out in 1979? It sounds solidly mid-80's, in the height of mini-malls and Rubik's cubes . . . at least, at first start. Impressive. Marianne sings with Cyndi Lauper clarity and sentiment but with more attitude, adding a punk edge to new wave synth sounds. "If I could get away with murder, I'd take my gun and I'd commit it." Whoa, "Guilt." Hit me with more! The highlight is "The Ballad of Lucy Jordan," which is a country song funneled through a synth that would sound just as good with a dobro and lap steel guitar and sung by Dolly Parton or Kenny Rogers. Interesting take on John Lennon's "Working Class Hero." Nothing can beat the original, but I like that she did something different with it, adding some Pink Floyd "One Of These Days" bass and guitar sounds but still able to keep the production snide and minimal. I can't help but hear The Little Mermaid's "Kiss The Girl" in the verses on "Witches' Song." What does it mean, man?!! Of the two, "Witches' Song" goes more interesting places, for sure. Marianne changes form and delivers tough feminism in her best comically dramatic Ursula the Sea Witch in "Why'd Ya Do It," which was a nice change of pace musically, adding organ and distorted guitars to a steady rocksteady. Marianne Faithful embodies numerous personas on Broken English, at times soft and sentimental and other times punk and abrasive. In all, I'm not convinced Marianne drinks her own Kool-Aid. I don't doubt that there is more to Marianne Faithfull than what I'm picking up from this auditory blind date. I believe I can find more if I dug more, but I'm not moved to do so, which is the largest problem with this album: an indifference as to whether or not I'll ever hear it or another one of hers again.

Growing up in 80's New Jersey--around the high school kids and especially in line for rides at Great Adventure (i.e., Six Flags)--I'd see plenty of cool kids wearing band tee-shirts of groups too unsafe for my parents to allow me a listen. By the time my elementary and middle school mind finally heard The Doors, Pink Floyd, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and Led Zeppelin, I wasn't ready for it. I didn't get it; it was too far removed in sound and theme from the Sesame Street, Chipmunks, and Smurfs albums I had in my boyhood collection (and still have, and they're great, btw (well, maybe not the Smurfs)). But THAT many people couldn't be wrong, could they? Could they? Instead of doubling down on my initial opinions, I figured it was me; it was something I just didn't understand yet, a greatness that needed time before all will be revealed. Of course, I eventually favored many of these groups, but never fully got around to giving Zep a deep listen. Similarly to Bowie, I started with the wrong album (Coda, because hey, it has a drum solo (and Space Oddity, if yer curious)); similarly, I heard singles I liked but couldn't fully dig in to albums like I wanted. So this is my first complete listen to Led Zeppelin III, continuing their trend of boringly uninspired album titles that offer no hints of the inventiveness within. And kicking it all off with "Immigrant Song" is a surprising knock out blow that hits you hard just as you drop the needle. I took a trip to Iceland in 2016 and this song kept bubbling up to my subconscious, that driving bass-and-bass-drum gallop propelling me through the trip. Like many of the songs I heard in my youth, I often sang along without really considering the lyrics. I realized I was singing "We come from the land of the ice and snow," and as I kept singing "From the midnight Sun where the hot springs blow," I understood why my mind was playing this back to me. Granted I went in January (cold enough???) when there was no midnight Sun as darkness was 18 hours a day (and it seemed like I was always witnessing the sun rise and set throughout the day), but we did experience plenty of hot springs and geysers. A quick search of lyrics and sure enough I see they wrote this about Iceland. Now I could yield this personal mental theme confidently as a weapon like Thor's Hammer as I dominated and conquered this land for the remainder of the trip, looking out a window of a heated tour bus and eating my 'Cool American' Doritos. Regardless . . . what a way to open an album. Wow, I know almost all of these songs; I would imagine a Greatest Hits album would consist of some random singles and almost this entire album, much like Rumours and the greatest hits of Fleetwood Mac. "Since I've Been Loving You" is a prime example of this band's ability to not just hit the right notes, but to make them lyrical, connected, and emotive. How many times have I heard someone play the blues scale, but not PLAY the blues? Led Zeppelin makes every sound sing, cry, strut, or wail. The music breathes. The vocal and guitar performance here moves me in a way most blues does not, both paying homage to the genre and pushing it to new heights. I move and swell along with the band; they take me, and I'm not fighting it. I wouldn't think I'd give any album a 5-star review for only one song, but if ever there was a case for it, "Since I've Been Loving You" would be it. Fortunately, the rest of the album is great, so need for this distinction. If this song showcases Jimmy Page's inspired playing, "Celebration Day" puts John Paul Jones' bass playing on display, climbing all over the bass like it owes him lunch money. Let's not discount his organ and mandolin contributions as well. What an experience. We get hard rock, folk, blues and even the dreamscapes of "Tangerine" and "That's the Way" on this album. None of it sounds out of place, none of it is redundant, and no trace of Tolkien anywhere. It's a win. The only song that doesn't do much for me is "Hats Off to Harper." (Yes, I left out "(Roy)" but it rolls better that way, as I'm sure they're aware, hence the parentheses.) I never even heard Roy Harper, but he's got some kind of hold over the Brits. (Except for The Wall soundtrack) the only non-member of Pink Floyd to sing male lead vocal on a song was Roy Harper on Wish You Were Here's "Have a Cigar." Then I heard of this song title about a month later and thought, "just who all owes this guy some favors?" Anyways, this isn't a bad song, but it is standard 8 bar blues of which I'm not a fan, as it is predictably formulaic. Robert Plant sings it beautifully, though. Again like Bowie, I can finally see what all the fuss is about. Like Bowie, I will add more of their gems to my collection. It's a win.

The Memorial Day holiday put me back a day, and also deleted what I wrote, so I'll keep it short. Distanced from Seattle's 'grunge' movement, Smashing Pumpkins was still a giant on the 'alternative rock' scene, combining powerful arena rock ("Cherub Rock," "Rocket"), chugging alterna-folk ("Disarm"), and warm-distortion shoe gaze ("Soma," "Mayonaisse") where it is equally appropriate to pump your fist or slow dance. No odd times, no weird chord progressions, no left turns. Just straight ahead songwriting leaning more towards sentiment than aggression. Billy is shredding that guitar too.

Oh, so THAT song is called "Green Onions." Heard it, but never knew. Matter of fact, that holds true for the entire group; I've heard of Booker T. & The MG's, but I couldn't tell you a single song until now. I'm usually not a big fan of the 8- or 12-bar blues as it is predictable and there's not much more one can add to it, but "Green Onions" does find a nice groove with it. And then there's "Mo' Onions" which is, well, mo' "Onions." "Rinky Dink" reminds of "The Shoop Shoop Song (It's In His Kiss)", "I Got A Woman" is a fun, romping jam, and the slow strut of "Behave Yourself" and "Stranger on the Shore" makes me wish they had a female jazz singer to accompany them. Some sweetness should be warmed with honey. I would be fine never hearing another version of "Twist and Shout" ever again. The guitarist has some tasty licks on this tune, but if it ain't the organ, good luck hearing it in the mix. All organ, all of the time. I feel--not insultingly--like I'm grooving during a prolonged Seventh Inning Stretch at the ballpark. Long, hot summer days on the bricks. The guitarist does eventually get some love in the mix half way through the album on tracks like "Stranger on the Shore" and "Lonely Avenue." Overall, not bad. For me, the same instrumentation throughout calls for a break, and these tunes would work better in a playlist in order to break things up a bit. I enjoyed it, but I'm not going to pick this one up.

Rage Against The Machine. Are they metal? Rock? Funk? Rap? A case could be made for any of these categories but one thing is for sure: beyond all of that, they are a movement. More riffs than chords, more screams than singing, more noise than solos, this album is a complete work of focused anti-establishment anger evinced in the music, lyrics, and performance of all. In case one worries that Tom Morello's playing is all flash and sound effects, listen to his clean virtuosic playing on "Settle for Nothing" and "Know Your Enemy." His Zeppelin influence is seen in the Kashmir-like riff in "Wake Up." Of course Zack de la Rocha's vocal performance is as outstanding as the music here. I've been in some bands that asked me deliver like Zack, and I'm happy to say I'm just not that angry. He does get a bit redundant in his go-to chorus of "say-the-same-line-repeatedly-but-get-louder-and angrier-each-time." Without a proper melody line in the vocal anywhere, what can one expect? But his vocals do not feel like he's just making due with what he has; everyone's performance is directed at manifesting the largest monster possible, and anything that is a touch timid does not fit here. Honestly, this isn't really my preferred style of music, but it is obvious that Rage Against The Machine strived to create a unique target and hit a bullseye.

Ok, this is fun. Groovy, even. But I'm not sensing anything stellar about LCD Soundsystem over what others in the genre have already done. More of the talking songs are reminiscent of Talking Heads ("Us V. Them"), but Talking Heads did it better. There are some actual melodies sung over the thumping pulse in "Someone Great" and "All My Friends," but the Killers did it better. Judi Chicago (from ATL!!!!) threw this same dance party just as well (though 4 months later), and they remain in the obscure club scene, where LCD Soundsystem should be instead of headlining festivals. The line that resonates with me the most, from the title track: "[it] makes you want to feel like a teenager until you remember the feelings of a real-life emotional teenager; then you think again." Not revolutionary, but a good reminder that it's less dramatic on this side of 20. I wish there were more songs like "New York I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down," easily the best tune on Sounds Of Silver. The Kermit-the-Frog-sings-Ben-Folds seems sincere and honest, placed after a 50 minute in-your-face shake-your-butt-a-thon . It is leaving the club when it closes at 2am, after the dance party has ended and you're back to reality and the consequences of your actions. Like a mediocre movie that ends spectacularly well (looking at you, "The Usual Suspects"), one is left with the overall feeling that the entire experience was great, or at least worth enduring for the payout. Don't let them re-color the past. It's not bad, but it's not the mind-blowing music you read about in the YouTube comments. Maybe if you come from a rave culture, this has more heart and melody, but coming from heart and melody as I do, this is decaf with a beat.

I first saw and heard Pixies on opening night of their reunion tour in 2004 at Coachella. I flew out to California for this particular festival because of the amazing line up (check it out online!), but not for Pixies; a friend recommended checking them out and went on and on about how good they were. There are few bands that I see where I don't know anything about them or their music and am still thoroughly impressed when I see them live (turns out I did know "Monkey Gone To Heaven"). Radiohead followed them, saying that in college, "R.E.M. and Pixies saved my life." I've seen them a few times since. As a result of their spectacular performance at Coachella, I picked up their best-of collection "Wave of Mutilation" and loved it (it would not be until 2022 when they released a special live recording of that Coachella performance. That's me (and a chorus of 1000s) woo-hooing along during "Where Is My Mind?"). The best-of comp proved I needed more! I picked up "Doolittle" but stopped there, exploring the discography of other bands I fell in love with from the show. While familiar with many of these songs, this is first I've heard Surfer Rosa in its entirety. Of course, the best-of compilation rightfully included greats like "Bone Machine", "Broken Face", "Gigantic", and "Where Is My Mind?". I see why some of these were left off the best-of compilation, but I do still find merit in songs like "Break My Body", "River Euphrates", and "Brick Is Red." This is a band where everyone brings their own ingredients, and the soup is wonderful. Distorted and clean guitars play alongside each other, both noisy and melodic. Kim Deal holds down the low end with song-defining bass lines while providing a sweet vocal on the high end as needed. Frank Black's multi-faceted vocal delivery is at times tonal, screaming, quiet, sarcastic, punctuated, enlongated, and Spanish. He's all over the place in the best way. Amazing to think this came out in 1988, in the midst of hair metal, the light pop beats of Paula Abdul and Bobby Brown, and the world initiation to a collective Rick Roll. Tons of bands were influenced by them since, but it's hard to pinpoint Pixies' own influences; obviously rock with a punk approach, but nothing too specific. Pixies seem to have come into existence out of nowhere, from nothing. Truly unique and still holds up, even after the imitators spawned quality derivations.

While I'm listening to Rush and Genesis in middle school, my friends were listening to Kid N' Play and Technotronic (if anything at all). Beastie Boys' License to Ill was an album that united us. I was surprised my dad didn't need much convincing to buy the record for me at Jamesway; I think this Air Force veteran was just happy to see that there was a plane on the cover. A couple of weeks later, my sister tried to get me in trouble for owning the album; as evidence of its inappropriateness, she showed my father the inner gatefold image where Mike D wore a pin that said "Oh Shit!" and the album sleeve showing the Boys and Rick Rubin dumping what looked like beer on their heads. I got a talking to, but ultimately could still listen . . . but I kept it on very low so it wouldn't be heard outside of my bedroom. Fast forward to 1989. I have my own money now, and the local BX carried Paul's Boutique on CD in the full cardboard sleeve (often times I would have to special order the music I wanted from them and wait some weeks for it to come in, but it was worth it for $10.25 per CD). Right there front and center, they slapped one of those new Parental Advisory stickers onto it. The idea at that time was that stores would not sell an album bearing that sticker to someone under 18 years old. I NEEDED this album (and to be the first in the crew to know all the new lyrics), but how would I convince some random stranger to buy this for me in the electronic department while my folks were in another department? Certainly after the License To Ill fiasco, my parents wouldn't buy it for me, especially now that it had the Parental Advisory sticker. Obviously my sister wouldn't be any help. Could I peel the sticker off?? It's just a sticker on shrinkwrap. Long story short, I go to the counter and attempt to buy it as is, heart racing and feeling like a criminal. It was a transaction like any other; no request for an ID or an adult. I was in the clear, and my parents didn't question what I bought when we left together. Owning this CD was a bit of a secret, and I kept it hidden in the very back slot in the CD drawer. I made sure to only listen to this on my headphones. What was THIS?? Certainly not License To Ill rhymes over metal guitars and bombastic drums. And they are openly cursing, talking about dicks and drugs. But also . . . breaking the beat for out-of-time samples, soulful backup singer vocals, banjo pickin' and rodeo calls, droppin' science, Disco Dave's new wave guitar sounds, Donald Trump and Donald Tramp living in a men's shelter, and somehow finding a way to rhyme with Horowitz. The last track is "B-Boy Bouillabaisse" but this whole album is a bouillabaisse mixture of everything from everywhere. I didn't care for the adult content where I couldn't openly listen to it in front of my parents--or even now, in front my kids--but I seemed to enjoy it before the rest of the world. It didn't matter that I learned the words, none of my friends had this album. MTV dropped "Hey Ladies" from their rotation and didn't touch other videos from this album (which I didn't know existed until the YouTube playlist). This album came and went but somehow earned its deserved respect in retrospect as the Beasties kept reinventing themselves on subsequent albums, adding punk and relaxed instrumental grooves to their growing bag of tricks. At the time I didn't see this as a workshop on cultivating and layering samples from a wide array of genres and media; I just liked all of the sounds at face value and not what they represented or the deep reference from where it was pulled. Over the years since, I would catch glimpses of some of these samples in the originals on the radio. (I actively sought out the opening sample, and discovered a love for the jazz of Idris Muhammad.) It's funny, listening back now to "59 Chrystie Street," I have a different interpretation of this song of a girl with long brown hair undressing before them. I've always thought the unmentioned thing they saw when her pants were removed was a vagina (shock-factor enough for middle school me), but now late-40's me interprets it as a penis. Does this say something about the times, an expansion of worldview, or just about me personally?? Personal favorite is "High Plains Drifter," but there's really not a miss on this album; Paul's Boutique keeps the groove coming with enough funky and trippy sidesteps to keep your attention. A needed departure from the rude and disrespectful drunk-party-boy collective persona presented on License To Ill, Paul's Boutique reasses what these three are capable of and sets them off in the right direction for the remainder of their career.

I actually liked "She Don't Use Jelly" when it first came out, but I've been burned too often before by that one single that was good while the rest of the album sucked . . . so I stuck to my rule that I have to like at least two songs I've heard on an album before purchasing it, and I haven't heard another song. So my love for The Flaming Lips was delayed until I was in Wax N' Facts in Little Five Points and asked if they had any freebies while I was checking out (do this at Criminal Records too!); I got some stickers and a demo tape where one side was Cibo Matto and the other side contained narrated excerpts from The Flaming Lips "The Soft Bulletin." I couldn't believe the lush and psychedelic sounds I was hearing on the drive home! I listened to it over and over again and made it mission to return to the music store and pick it up. I've been a huge fan of theirs ever since, seeing them live numerous times and purchasing almost their entire catalogue (which is quite the undertaking at 16 albums where many contained maxi-single EPs with additional songs); they were one of the main reasons I flew to Coachella in 2004, and subsequently got to see the first time Wayne tested his "Space Bubble" walk-out over the audience which has since become a live staple. It's nice to have an American band on my list of favorite artists when so many others are from England. After getting familiar with their work before and since, I see The Soft Bulletin (and its experimental predecessor Zaireeka) as beginning the "third wave" of The Flaming Lips with a synthy noise rock three piece incarnation of the group, and with Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots comfortably surfing smack in the middle of its wake. Much of Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots seems like they wanted to quickly capitalize on the success of the critically acclaimed (and better) The Soft Bulletin. Compared to their other albums, it seems a bit more spoon-fed to a wider audience as if really striving to be more commercially acceptable while staying true to what they do. "Fight Test" establishes this approach right out of the gate; it is a conventional pop song that uses unconventional sounds. The same is true for the title track. There is still some experimentation on the album, but it seems a little unfocused; noodling about for the sake of it vs having something to say. "Do You Realize??" is the crossover here, where everything is gelling correctly: the writing is good, the soundscape is lush, and the drum beat keeps shifting around a bit but continually grooves. The liner notes on "It's Summertime" are noteworthy. They tell of their translator on their Japanese tour, Yoshimi (not directly the character from the album, but they took the name). Some time after returning to the States, they hear of her being sick or possibly dying or dead; with the distance and language issues, it took a couple of months to get the facts correct that she had passed. Described as a 'slow devastation' as the news was foreboding but slow coming, Wayne writes that he looked outside and noticed the flowers in bloom, the bee's buzzing about, all of these signs of life; he acknowledged the sad weight of death but also that life continues and thrives. I wish the song conveyed this more, as it adds meat to the bones of an otherwise simple lyric. I believe some of their weaker songs are on this album. "Are You A Hypnotist??" has a great chorus, but the verses are lacking. Though not favorites, the opening lines of "In the Morning of the Magicians" and the bass line of "Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell" replay in my head randomly over the years. They have so many more albums that are better from start to finish, but this project is not about where an album fits into one's discography as a whole; it is to take each album at face value. I sure hope they have more deserving Flaming Lips albums or 2 on this list, but for this one, it's a 3.

I'm a huge Beatles fan; I can't overstate this. When I find something sacred like that, I slow down and take things very slowly; instead of buying everything I can, I get an album and give it a listen for a year or more to reel in the amount of inspiration I feel before picking up the next one, knowing there's a finite amount of material. In the solo realms, I first went to George Harrison since he seemed like he had a lot more to say than what he was allowed previously. Then I went to the true genius of John, who is still my favorite. Paul had so much material that I didn't know where to start, but I started listening to some Wings and solo stuff here and there, but never played a full album. And so here I am, happy to devote a little time to McCartney, which I'm finding is his first release of material post-Beatles. "Every Night" is the first actual song here, a bit reminiscent of "You Never Give Me Your Money." The first song I recognize is "Junk," which was presented to the Beatles during the White Album demo sessions at George's new house, and this actualized version is perfect, with the right lyrics, great jazzy chord sequence, simple arrangement, and falsetto notes. George Martin said it first, and I must agree: no one can sing like Paul. He can hit a note in most any range and sound clear as a bell or invent death metal (i.e., "Helter Skelter"). I knew "Teddy Boy" from Anthology 3 and the Let It Be sessions. I can see why the Beatles passed on this one. Of course, "Maybe I'm Amazed" is the big single here, and it's beautiful. "Baby, I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time." What a touching sentiment. Like McCartney II and III, Paul plays all of the instruments on this album. I knew he could do noise-rock lead guitar like his solo on "Taxman" but I find his more tonal bluesy lead playing surprisingly impressive. The other tracks from McCartney feel a bit like the Abbey Road medley, a collection of song ideas or jams that never quite took their own form and just thrown together. In a way, this a grandiose demo tape of what Paul would sound like without his better half. In that way, with so much public baggage behind him and so much expectation of what he'll do next, this is a pretty daring first foray, but its subversion of expectation freed up his future, allowing him to do whatever he wanted next. Play it again. . . . and what's next, Paul?

I'm a huge Beatles fan; that can't be overstated. I prefer their work two years in and beyond (i.e., "Help!" and everything after). It's amazing to think "The Beatles" did their thing and was over before anyone turned 30, and what they accomplished in just 6 short years of recording music. Unfathomable for a teen cover band who got sick of opening bands playing the songs that they intended to play as the headliner, and so decided to write their own songs. The Beatles are often lauded as great songwriters, but Paul's bass playing and Ringo's backbeat are impeccable. Not only can they sing, but they can harmonize! Songs like "If I Fell" (a George Martin favorite) prove their fandom of The Everly Brothers. I don't think their harmonies get enough credit in general; imagine "Good Day Sunshine", "Nowhere Man", or "Don't Let Me Down" without harmony. Their ability to write two lead vocal lines simultaneously allows the listener to choose and alternate between what they hear as the main melody. The longest song here is 2:44. These songs not only contained verse, chorus, and a bridge, but also an intro and coda. They pack a lot into so little, and they cover everything from the country ("I'll Cry Instead"), doo-wop rock ("Tell Me Why"), blues ("You Can't Do That"), and rock and roll ("Can't Buy Me Love"), as well as going into the minor keys for "And I Love Her," "Things We Said Today," and "I'll Be Back." I have to laugh at the hard T in "Any Time A'Tall"--ahem--"Any Time At All." In those early years, they were releasing two albums a year along with singles that contained new B-sides. They kept their momentum up, and you can hear the drive and fervor on this album, along with their many influences. Though The Beatles derived great songs imitating the styles of their favorite artists, they had yet to find their own style and sound by A Hard's Day Night.

I'm reminded of a phrase I used to say alot in the 2000's: "I've heard of them but I haven't heard them." This project hits you first with the imagery of the album cover which imprints expectations on the content, but I suppose it's fair since it's basically the same as flipping through records at the music store. From the cover alone, it looks a bit depressing and isolated; let's see what the music offers. Oddly, this sounds like it's targetted towards the middle-aged. Maybe it's the breathy Don Henley/Bruce Hornsby/Bob Dylan vocals, but this seems to purposely steer away from the bright pop "who cares about tomorrow??" of modern music (of their time) and go straight into serious and boring adult-contemporary. Holding that last note for a full minute on "Under the Pressure" tells me they are wanting to do something epic and grandiose--and the soundscape is good--but it's just not . . . exciting, and I blame the drummer. Phil Collins once said your band can only be as great as your drummer; you can have a crappy band with a great drummer, but you'll never have a great band without a great drummer. Time proved him correct. I feel if maybe this drummer played slightly ahead of the beat and approached his playing as if writing a programmed drum part (with more intricate hi-hat rhythms and some ghost strokes on the snare), he would add more momentum and interest to keep the suspended synth notes moving. Consistently, it's just bass snare bass snare (save "Disappearing", but that is just the mixing engineer adding some delay to the bass and snare in an effort to save humanity from this tired beat!). "Red Eyes" and "An Ocean In Between The Waves" picks up the tempo a bit, but the formula is the same song after song. I actually like the sparse audition-for-a-movie-soundtrack of "The Haunting Idle." At least it breaks from the norm. They can clearly create atmosphere, but they generally don't do anything with it. "Burning" is the best thing on here, smartly placed after "The Haunting Idle" which automatically benefits from the stark change of pace with its driving Arcade-Fire-playing-"Born To Run" beat and more 80's-sounding synths. Not bad, but not much more than background music to me. The band name, album name, and the song titles are all thought-provoking and evocative, but Lost In The Dream is an all-you-can-eat buffet of a mediocre meatloaf without any apps, sides, or desserts. Another would-be 3 that I dock an additional point for undeservedly being on this list.

I don't think I've ever heard B.B. King's voice sound so young! Happy to hear him in his prime! Of course, the guitar playing on here is legendary. I can hit individual notes on a guitar, but it takes a certain kind of magic to make it move and sing so effortlessly. You can hear a direct transmission from his muse to your ears with no interference in between. A live album doesn't have the benefit of multiple takes and changing instrumentation. Before keyboards and laptops, you heard the same sounds at differing volumes song after song. B.B.'s got a full band behind him, and it never gets monotonous. I love the banter, and I love how they move between songs without stopping at times. Though technically "the blues," the jazz improvisation going on in the background on the slower songs is glorious and in-the-moment. "How blue can you get? The answer's right here in my heart." Mic drop. This isn't just well-performed playing and singing, but a performance in banter, audience interaction, and stage presence. You feel you're there and part of it. Though this is the blues, there's nothing but good vibes here.

Can’t listen now but I know this one. Some of their best songs are on here: “Debaser,” “Monkey Gone To Heaven”, “ Here Comes Your Man,” “Hey.”

I saw that these guys were on Merge; ever since Neutral Milk Hotel, anytime someone recommends an artist from Merge, I've always been pleased. The supple sounds of Lambchop are soothing and reminiscent of art rock, chamber orchestras, and at times, TSOP (The Sound Of Philly) à la "Me & Mrs. Jones." The end of the album moves a bit towards psyche rock with a thumping bassline that would fit with The Munsters theme song. Interesting find. I'm surprised and happy to see this one on the list. It shows someone is mining these smaller labels for gold.

Simple, clean dance pop. Héloïse Letissier's voice is so clear and effortless; at times vulnerable, at times strong. Plenty of phrases sound like either Michael or Janet Jackson. However, the songwriting is lacking. Aside from the great voice and DIY production, nothing sticks out as particularly innovative nor problematic. Safely middle of the road; easy to like, and just as easy to dismiss. "5 Dollars" has the best pop, "What's-Her-Face" has the confident seduction, and "Make Some Sense" has some of the softest tones of what this album has to offer.

Sexy, cinematic, French! This plays out like a movie and Serge is at times the narrator, and other times the soundtrack singer. I have no idea what he's saying, but it is a seductive mood. Is this foreplay, or the entire act?

Good, ol' fashioned rock 'n roll; clean, energic vocals over driving guitars. It avoids the pitfalls of cock rock bands like KISS but it is still "light" hard rock with attitude. Though this list doesn't allow 'best of' compilations, a live album containing the best of an artist's work is fair game, and I'm fine with that. The band is tight, playing well with each and filling space without walking all over each other; they have mastered their instruments and perform both technically and musically together. Clean doubled guitar lines too. Self-assured and singing with personality, Phil Lynott commands the stage and keeps the listener's ear. He casts a spell on the audience and you buy all in immediately. Surprised I like this so much; it's not my normal cup of tea, but they have my attention. Phil does his best Hendrix vocally on "Warrior." Smart to jump into their biggest hit "The Boys Are Back In Town" as a segue from the previous song; it keeps the audience on their toes. These guys sound like they put on a great and energetic live show, and we even get a drum solo on "Baby Drives Me Crazy"!

First of all, hats off to The Cisco Kid for drinking port; a good port improves every situation! I know two WAR songs ("Low Rider" and "Why Can't We Be Friends?"), and neither are on The World Is A Ghetto. Regardless, this album has a great bounce. I love the percussion on "The Cisco Kid" and "Beetles in the Bog" and the chromatic harmonica on "Where Was You At" and especially "City, Country, City" which always calls to mind Stevie Wonder and the legendary Toots Thielemans. Something feels gloriously ramshackle about this--fun and loose, playing well but not taking things too seriously--as if WAR is actually Fat Albert's Junkyard Band in disguise as a Santana and Cal Tjader cover band, not to suggest that this doesn't have its own thing going. The first and last third of the album transports me somewhere between The Outsiders and Welcome Back, Kotter; there's a strong nostalgia for a time I never knew. By the time we get to "City, Country, City" and "Four Cornered Room," the album moves to hypnotic travel music, and I'm driving a long stretch of road through the barren desert, clay-colored plateaus barely moving in the distance on my way south for my own Fear and Loathing in Mexico with Carlos Castaneda and Don Juan. Jim Morrison is hitchhiking beside the road, head full of peyote. The AC is out, and the heat has weight but is just bearable with the windows down and a consistent speed. We pass Jim by (I know how "Riders on the Storm" ends) but as we do, part of me psychically connects to Jim's mind and remains there with him as my mind and body keep distancing themselves from each other. Somehow on autopilot, I find myself at a roadside attraction of oddities and observe my body as it walks languidly past God in the form of a burning sagebrush donning a sombrero in order to purchase an Indian headdress for the Native American that transferred itself forever from Jim's soul to mine. Very impressed with this Latin rock jazz fusion. Finally, we can answer the question "War! What is it good for?" Play it again!

I dismissed Steve Winwood as that guy from the 80's who sang "Roll With It." Then he showed up on keys on Billy Joel's "Getting Closer" and I wondered why. Somewhere in the 2000's I find out he's in this acclaimed band Traffic. "You've GOT to hear Traffic!!" Maybe then I'll understand. Checked out "Shanghai Noodle Factory" which was good, but I didn't listen to much more until today. The skilled musicianship here is evident, and you can tell the band can play whatever they wanted. This is a laid back soul jazz psychedelic blues that keeps you guessing. The songwriting doesn't follow a consistent 8-bar verse, 4-bar chorus but wanders wherever the melody or lyric goes. Usually I like that approach but here is seems to vary just for the sake of it. Hey, I actually know "Feelin' Alright?"; I think I heard it from a commercial decades back. It's more straight forward than the change-ups in the previous songs; coupled with a stronger melody, it is the obvious single. I wasn't around in 1968, but this album reflects a genre that I associate with that time. It sounds like Woodstock to me, but other than the two songs previously mentioned, nothing really jumped out to me. I often reflect upon how we were lucky that 90's music was so good that even the bands we didn't like at the time were still above average. We had the luxury to be picky and choose not to like some of it for superficial reasons (e.g., "Bush is a Nirvana rip-off", "Nine Inch Nails are for the goths", "Dave Matthews fans are drunk frat boys", "Spacehog's video zooms in on all of these kids' piercings, yet the band has none," "Better Than Ezra's singer looks goofy", "Smashing Pumpkins isn't even from Seattle," "Green Day is sell-out punk", "Does Marcy Playground even have another song?") but ultimately the music stands toe-to-toe with everything else on the radio then. I feel similarly about Traffic; they are skilled and ambitious and seem like they can jam forever if not restricted to any album length, but amongst so many talented peers that resonate with me more, for some reason my brain chooses not to fully let them in. They're cooking a delicate four-course meal with flavors I appreciate and it tastes sublime, but I've already eaten.

I love Bobbi Humphrey's flute playing on "Harlem River Drive" as well as the relaxed feeling of cruising the barrios of 70's Manhattan that the song conveys. Each time I listen to it on YouTube, it is followed by tracks from Gil-Scott Heron. (No brain, not Jill Scott.) The algorithm (algoRHYTHM, anyone??) got it right this time. I couldn't name a single song I heard, but I liked it. Time to dig in with a focused listen. I think Gil is a little loud in the mix; at least, I'd like to hear the backing music a bit more as there are some tasty tidbits in there too. His singing isn't amazing, but he makes do with the art he has. The jazz is smooth but not elevator music, and many of these tracks sound live, at least partially. The playing is phenomenal, especially the piano, flute, and congas. The spoken-word genius delivery of "H2Ogate Blues" reminds us that the good ol' days weren't as rosy-colored as we'd like to remember. Even then, he talks of current stolen elections, stacking the Supreme Court, inflation, war for profit, and politicians "whose ignorance is only surpassed by those that voted for [them]." Mic drop. Sadly, this struggle remains and rings true even today, a persistent winter in America. Peace go with you, brother. This is the jazz music I like with a message that remains fresh and revolutionary. Winter In America just oozes intelligent and soulful art, and the rhythm makes you move. A unique and hip take on jazz, poetry, and spoken-word mastery.

I did NOT expect a reggae opener--or anywhere for that matter--on this album; I guess I assumed it would be acoustic guitar and voice. This is a refreshing surprise. Let's see what else this album has to offer. There it is, track 2: "Duncan", and pretty much every song afterwards. They are more indicative of what I'd expect from "Paul Simon." This road was paved by Leonard Cohen, but Paul certainly has his own worthwhile musings. "Run That Body Down" is coffee-shop jazz that resonates with me with it's casual approach and odd-meter. I can hear similar stylings in the works of M. Ward and Elliot Smith decades later. I like how "Peace Like a River" flows (pardon the pun), and the guitar work is well-honed, especially the precise finger-picking. These are my two favorite tracks. Similar song titles like "Papa Hobo", "Hobo's Blues," and "Paranoia Blues" stretch the credibility of inspiration and appears more like a thematic rut that is all the more painfully obvious being sequenced back-to-back. Next up, "Papa's Paranoia"?? It's a bit nit-picky, but that's how criticism goes at times. These are supposed to be the greatest albums of all time. "Congratulations" is a somber and reflective way to close out the album; its impact would be greater if the previous songs demonstrated more variety. In all, there are some playful changes in meter and a relaxed sophistication on "Paul Simon," but it is suffers from lack of variation in the style and instrumentation and is perhaps too easy-listening and quiet.

I never really noticed how similar John Fogerty's voice is to Robert Plant's during his low oooh's on the opening track as well as some of the higher register in "Long As I Can See The Light." But this isn't pristine tea-sippin' English rock, this is the sound of beer-drankin' bayou boys who--according to the album cover--have a hoarding issue. Right out the gate, they tell you they have something to say with "Ramble Tamble," giving you a taste of what they do before morphing into a slowed down extended jam and bringing you back. I also didn't associate "Travelin' Band" with the early 60's music of Chuck Berry and Little Richard and everyone else the early Beatles ripped off until I heard it sandwiched between "Before You Accuse Me" and "Ooby Dooby." I don't feel we get to hear true Creedance Clearwater Revival until we get to "Lookin' Out My Back Door" which displays their influences without being derivative like earlier songs. They really make the cover songs their own, and the rest of the original songs were strong enough to make the cut for their later Greatest Hits album. Obviously inspired by the blues, CCR still has their own sound; you know a CCR song the moment you hear it. A solid album from a solid band.

Ha! I was just singing "Planet Telex" to myself two days ago, wondering if they ever still play it. So this was one of those 'break my own rules" purchases. Having been burned too many times buying a crappy album on the strength of one hit single, I resolved myself to require hearing two songs that I really liked before picking up an album. At the time "Creep", was laughed at in my peer group; the falsetto wasn't your manly Eddie Vedder or Scott Weiland sound, but I still liked it though not enough to buy the album yet. When I first heard "Fake Plastic Trees" I knew I needed the album and broke that rule (same story with "No Rain" and then Blind Melon's masterpiece Soup, and "She Don't Use Jelly" and The Flaming Lips' masterpiece "The Soft Bulletin"). That said, I have to admit I wasn't blown away by the album as a whole, so much so that when OK Computer came out, I balked at buying it at first and even passed on a friend who asked me if I wanted to get concert tickets to see them on that tour. Camping in the woods with mind altered and watching an insane amount of shooting stars and the literal International Space Station going by many times an hour to the tune of OK Computer made me realize the genius of that album and band. This is Radiohead in their skinny black tie infancy, showing a strong ability to write catchy songs aimed square at the FM radio, still playing the sycophantic fame game and trying to make an impression at the MTV Beachhouse. It's not until they stopped caring so much about what others thought and turned their affections elsewhere that the world got a little lonely and started drunk-texting them in the middle of the night asking for another chance. By that point, Radiohead moved on with OK Computer while the rest of the world fawned over them for the next decade. In hindsight, this album is good, but it most assuredly gets a post-market boost by what they did afterwards. Here, they are peers with the likes of Spacehog and Sponge who sat in middle of the boat but did not do much to stear it in any meaningful direction. Quality hits with quality playing but nothing that elevated the genre to the next stratosphere yet. The appreciation here for me is more as a soundtrack to my own nostalgia and journey and has less to do with the album breaking any barriers. Happy to have heard "Fake Plastic Trees," "My Iron Lung," and "Just" live. Finally seeing them on the Hail To The Theif tour was a major propellant in the need to see them again at their next US show, which was seven months away and in the middle of a polo field in the desert of Indio, California in 2004. Aside from the aforementioned songs, "[Nice Dream]," "Bullet Proof . . . I Wish I Was," and "Sulk" are standout tracks. This is the walk before the run.

After the success of "Losing My Religion" from the previous album, the world of music changed, and grunge and 'alternative rock' marched in with its own sounds and ideals that the radio and MTV ate wholeheartedly. Many groups jumped on the bandwagon and rode the wave. How did R.E.M. respond? They didn't. They just kept doing what they do really well, and the world returned to them, grunge still in tow. Automatic For The People was not solely responsible for the openness and acceptingness of the times that allowed grunge and non-grunge to coexist peacefully together (radio played piano art of Tori Amos, industrial Nine Inch Nails, bubblegum Cardigans, prog-metal Tool, squealing noise-rap of House of Pain, sugar pop of Sugar Ray, etc. all in the same hour), but I do believe it helped to make room for more than just one sound or style to be appreciated. My general complaint about R.E.M. is that most of their 'songs' are the same 4 chords repeated consistently. From a chord standpoint, there is no intro, verse, chorus, bridge, or coda. The band plays a chord arrangement, and Michael lays down some evocative musings and if he repeats a phrase, "Hey! There's a chorus!!" For the most part, the song still turns out well. But when the songwriting ventures to add a chord change or two, we get an elevated version of themselves, and we see that version explored a bit more during the Warner Bros years, including here on Automatic For The People. "Nightswimming" is one of R.E.M.'s best songs in their entire catalog, and hits like "Drive" and "Everybody Hurts" validates a place for honest sensitivity in pop music. Michael Stipe has one of those emotive voices that make everything he says sound deep and meaningful. The softer songs on this album shine through the most for me on this album. Congrats on their recent induction into the songwriter's hall of fame.

Again, the power of an album cover. Coupled with the album title of Smoker's Delight, I feel like I'm going to have go back to an immature version of me two lifetimes ago to appreciate this one. The opener is thankfully much better than than the drunken Sublime License To Ill party vibes I originally got from the visual alone. The rest of the album is the same: laid back grooves with sparse instrumentation that provides a consistent tempo to whatever else you may be doing. This strikes me more as background, incidental music you may play in the bathrooms of a theater or before a concert while people are taking their seats. I can see a DJ having this album to match a beat while transitioning to another album. I appreciate this more than I first expected, and I can relax to it, but nothing seems groundbreaking enough for me to include it on this list, so I'm docking another point.

MC5. Their reputation proceeds them. I never heard them, but I only ever heard them referenced positively in general discussions about music. Flavor Flav, take your seat; these guys don't need no hypeman. Dude churns up the crowd before a single note is played with the skill and machismo of every great coked-up WWE wrestler from the 80's, brother. Oh yeah! Woooooooo! All of sudden, I think I know at least one of the influences for Pixies, with a chaotic vocal delivery and occasional Tourettes of grunts and squeals. This is Led Zeppelin's punky American step-brother, overly confident, brazen, and rockin' as hard as they possibly can. The anarchy here is directed both at government as well as musical convention. This is a tour-de-force, with so much strength coming from within the band that it doesn't matter what you think about them at all. They are blowing their own minds and having the time of their lives and you're invited for the ride if you can dig it, but if not, you're the one whose wrong, man. A bit abrasive for me at first, but--like any good live show--they won me over in short order. These guys hold your shirt while punching you in the face; you're not getting away until they're done. A 3.5 that becomes a 3 since I don't imagine revisiting this album much if at all. Like my sons after trying some new food, "I tried it and I liked it, but I don't want anymore" . . . but MC5 don't care what I think.

It dawns on me that listening to these albums outside of cultural and historical context is a novelty for us, yet for today's youth, that is how they experience all media today. Our novelty is the new norm. All movies, television, books, music--everything streaming or online--are available to them immediately and out of context. The removal of 'programming' isn't getting off the grid as much as it is becoming a lack of commonality. Nothing is normal; nothing is strange; nothing is sacred. Everything just is. Is that good, bad, or just . . . is? In short, I wonder if The Kinks were fully appreciated in their time. They had hits, but did the majority of their fans truly appreciate them? I always meant to go back and check out their catalog. When Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire) first started, I had to jump back and make sure that after skipping YouTube ads and what not I didn't actually select the wrong tracks. This is NOT the "You Really Got Me"/"Lola" Kinks I was expecting. I feel I missed an entire transition here. Surely there are some albums between then and now where this version of the Kinks makes sense as a natural progression. For me, it's quite a left turn . . . but I'll adjust. I chose to wait for a second listen before typing much more, and this is growing on me. "Some Mother's Son" is a dramatic telling of a soldier who longs for his childhood before being killed in the war while the local town continues about its business as usual. "Australia" is the first song that really grabbed me with its lush sha-la-la-la-las, tongue-in-cheek vocals, and erratic tempo changes; it reminds me of smaltzy lounging of The Strokes' "Call it Fate, Call it Karma", and I can imagine it as the inspiration entire Sufjan Stevens' albums. "Shangri La" mocks societal contentment with the banal leisure time of the working class, comfortable in predictability enough not to complain and to return to work dutifully each week. "You're in your place and you know where you are." They then turn their mockery to the blind obedience of authorities in "Mr. Churchill Says." In the experimental vein of early Pink Floyd and David Bowie, I hear the deep vocal strut of Hendrix (Mr. Churchill, in this context) at times, the whine of David Byrne other times, and the old-timey stylings akin to Queen's "Lazing On a Sunday Afternoon." I find this work inspired and inspirational. Another one I need to add to my collection . . . and I'll need to go back through their catalog and follow this transition more closely. Surely, there are gems to mine here. I'm ready to join the cult. Fitting that this album ends with the glowing gospel of "Arthur", welcoming everyone into the fold. "We love you and want to help you. Somebody loves you; don't you know it?!"

I never gave Green Day an honest shot. Pop-punk, fake twitchy head, curled lip, attempting a British accent. I always saw them as solid B-listers who became elevated once the A-listers killed themselves or broke up while the remaining players on the FM dial were C-listers. It does help that they happened to write better (and more mature) songs by the time American Idiot came out. Again, we were lucky in the 90's to have so much good music that we can choose to ignore some of it, and I ignored Green Day; one only has so much pocket money and you had to choose your albums carefully. We got off on the wrong foot and after me correcting course and starting over, I can now appreciate these solid melodies in short, compact songs despite some of the more sophomoric lyrics. The night before listening to this album, I saw a TikTok short where a bar band was playing Green Day, and Billie Joe Armstrong jumped onstage and sang it with them. He did fine, but the feel of the song was all off (due to the drummer, imo), and it made me appreciate Green Day as a band. It's one thing to hit the notes, but it's a greater skill to play well and with the right feel. Green Day are tight, they're on top of the beat, and they bring the energy. And I appreciate that all these years later, it's still the same three guys playing with their best friends. No lineup changes. I forgot about "She" and "In The End." Good tunes. Some deep cuts I liked were "Pulling Teeth" and the softer change of pace of "All By Myself." Dookie (and Green Day for that matter) is a bit too . . . manufactured for my tastes, but it's not a bad album, and it deserves the success it got.

Local Atlanta group Stuck Mojo was the first rap-metal group I knew of in 1992 (aware that "Epic" was a one-off styling for Faith No More); I thought it was innovative, and over time 311, Limp Bizkit, Korn, Rage Against the Machine, Papa Roach, Kid Rock, P.O.D., Bloodhound Gang, etc. saturated that market for me with varying degrees of appreciation. Kurt Cobain killed grunge with a single shotgun blast, rap hit a golden era, and in the wake of any good rock and roll by 2000, boy bands emerge with their spiked, bleached tips and Ramen-noodle-hair to the delight of teenage girls and their mothers everywhere. Somewhere between rock, rap, digital, analog, Incubus turntables, and spiked colored hair of questionable fashion, we ended up at Linkin Park. Hybrid Theory, indeed. I remind myself to push that aside and just listen to the music. They do what they do really well: on-note screams, syncopated raps, power chords, and scratching vinyl, ALL LIVE. Nice work. The three hits are the best songs on here. Although some of the tracks do seem like filler material, "By Myself" and "Forgotten" were nicer deep cuts. "Cure for the Itch" gives the programming and DJ a platform to shine. In all, I find most of album good with some songs still trying to find its footing. In trying to make my own smaller list of "100 albums you must hear before you die," it is harder to fill in than expected; there are plenty albums that I think are great but only a few that I love wholeheartedly. If I had to expand the list to 1001, I'd have some placeholder albums that I know will eventually come off the list in time. Good, but not great through and through. I expect Hybrid Theory to be removed from the 1001 list in time. For now, perhaps it belongs.

I think it's impossible to listen to Megadeath and not compare them to Metallica. Middle school me and my sister's high school boyfriend took to each other as we were both drummers and found each other impressive at our respective ages; he introduced my ears and eyes to Rush and Metallica. At the time, Metallica (. . . And Justice For All) was the fastest and heaviest thing I ever heard, and it took some time getting used to, but the fact that each play annoyed my brother (who was more interested in Olivia Newton-John and Kenny Rogers), I found great little-brother pleasure in playing it routinely when he was around until it sunk in. I never picked up any Megadeath, so this is a first listen. Having grown accustomed to heavier music I'm surprised how clean and light this sounds now. It's fast, but I guess I'm accustomed to fast now; it doesn't feel like speed metal. It's just . . . metal. Metallica's replacement of Dave Mustaine with Kirk Hammett was a wise choice. Dave's got the chops, there's no doubt, but I don't find his playing to be as melodic as Kirk's. I like the soloing in "Lucretia", but for the most part I feel like the solos are just scales and drills played over chugging guitars that are no heavier than Heart's "Barracuda." The drumming is phenomenally tight and deep and is the real star on these tracks. Maybe Rust In Peace is Megadeath's "black album," where Metallica joined with Motley Crue producer Bob Rock and watered down their 7-riffs-in-11-minute metal symphonies to 1 riff in a bite-sized 2 1/2 minute radio song. Maybe this album is Megadeath lightening up, or maybe they were so influential that metal went even harder and further, making this sound a bit cliche in comparison; it's almost a parody of metal. Skilled musicianship, but the singing and songwriting are lacking. If this is what you're looking for, there are better attempts at it.

Ah, the full Genesis, when there were five. Generally I prefer Phil Collins-vocal Genesis; I think Peter Gabriel did some odd stuff for the sake of oddity more than art. Nevertheless, his voice remains clear and balanced even today. "Firth of Fifth" was the song I heard that made me want to go back and listen to some early Genesis. It's pretty masterfully crafted, even for prog-rock. It continued to make the live set list over the years, along with "I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)". The musical tangents of "The Battle of Epping Forest" are good unto themselves but feels a little sprawling since they do not repeat. At least "The Cinema Show" maintained a consistent musical theme, also over 11 minutes. Perhaps it is the flutes or occassional narration, but Selling England By The Pound gives the impression of a bard show in Renaissance England traveling through the forests by wagon. It's always impressive to get a group together and be able to convey complex musical ideas and keep it tight. There seems to be so many ideas here that there is a lack of focus, or at least the focus is not on melody. The shining moments are when melodies do pop up, especially amongst some complicated rhthyms, but sustaining such highs must wait until Phil Collins takes the lead on future albums.

Apparently it's not too tricky to rock a rhyme that's right on time; everybody's doing it now. So now that rhyming in time is a given, the focus shifts to the beat and what you are saying. "I'm a spiritual being, an instrument of God, so pass that joint so I can go give her that dick all of the time, motherfukka." -- Paraphrased quote from Kanye West Not really sure where he's coming from, but his production and flow is definitely cleaner than his lyrics. "School Spirit" is a sure to be played at the mentioned fraternities, despite the relevant dig at higher education in "Lil Jimmy Skit" where the goal is to be the smartest dead guy without money to leave one's family. 1/3 serious, 1/3 satire, 1/3 self-righteous, The College Dropout has something to say, even if tongue-in-cheek. "The New Work Out Plan" is just funny from concept to execution. This album opens the door wide to whatever possibilities rap can become after the gansta rap of the mid-nineties. "We Don't Care", "Spaceship", "Through the Wire", and "Family Business" are highlights here. I can appreciate Kanye telling his story on "Last Call"; so if you don't know, now you know.

Oh, what would my Sunday School teacher think (specifically the one who made us watch "Hells Bells: The Dangers of Rock n' Roll Music" which--THANK GOD--is on YouTube)?? The 80's were all about Satanism; the "Satanic Panic" shrouded and fascinated my youth. Looking back, I blame it on 12 years of conservative ideals to control people with religion in mock adulation of Biblical teachings. I have a whole theory of how politics and music shaped each other over the decades, but I won't get into it here. Iron Maiden was one of the bigger bands that Catholicism marked as Devil Music. I haven't listened to them, and I didn't find them on MTV between the Twisted Sister and Quiet Riot videos. And when I at first heard Satan in my own home in Metallica's lyrics ("See your mother put to death, see your mother die"), I was shown the remaining context proved that they were talking about Mother Earth and how we're ignoring the issue of pollution. Hmmm . . . is it possible that metal is misunderstood? Even Ozzy sings "to learn how to love and forget how to hate" and mocks sending the poor to war in order to profit the rich back home. Yet Iron Maiden is singing of "The Number of the Beast." There it is, Satan revealed. And yet, it--nor "Children of the Damned" or "Hallowed Be Thy Name"--seem as mocking to the teachings of Christianity as those who hide behind its righteous shield and pretend to be insulted. Neutralizing Satan from the fold (and even if it didn't), this album holds up. (I'm more of a Lucifer and Baphomet kind of guy anyway.) The playing is virtuosic, and the guitar lines remain melodic despite also being technically difficult. The singing stands out as a tough, driven, and convicted. The wrong singer with a weak approach would diminish this band to a joke. However, Bruce Dickinson sets the tone that Iron Maiden takes their music seriously and they deserve serious attention. And yet there is somehow still room for Poison and Warrant. Why didn't any of the DefJam crew rap over the riff and beat from "The Prisoner"? It's ripe for sampling. I like the slower jams of "Children of the Damned" and the soloing in "22 Acacia Avenue." Impressive, though The Number Of The Beast is not one I would personally listen to over and over. Still, if you want metal, Iron Maiden is the real deal. For the right audience (and I've seen them at the amusement parks), they are the pinnacle of what metal has to offer.

1989? I was closely paying attention to music by then, absorbing everything I could from MTV and radio. How did The Jungle Brothers come in under the radar? I know it's the old man in me, but I appreciate the lack of need for a parental advisory sticker on here. The rhymes are decent, the vibe is intelligent and cool-tempered, but what is apparent is how far beats have come since 1989; compared to the modern production of the 2020’s, these beats sound flat and out-of-the-box. The jazzy backing melodies are a key ingredient to their sound, but the hits aren't slappin'. Still pretty good for the time. I really like the vibes of "Good Newz Comin'."

Can an album be all killer AND filler? Jim Morrison seems to think so, delivering every line in every song with conviction, despite how good it is. An amazing debut album, The Doors has many of their most iconic songs: "Break On Through," "The Crystal Ship," "Light My Fire," and "The End," the latter of which consumed many an attentive gaze over my teen and college years. I love the kaleidoscopic carousel of the instrumental parts of "Alabama Song." Other songs are ok and delivered just as fiercely and poetically, but the melodies were lacking for me a bit. This unique sound of Ray Manzarek's hypnotic keyboards (and bass, via keyboards) helps The Doors to stand out from all else that was going on at the time. "The End" gives us a taste of the improvisational nature of group, reading each other's ebbs and flows and responding accordingly; they remind people that there are differences between recording artists and performance artists, and it's possible to be both.

Groovy tunes are nothing new, but Ozomatli pull in brass, a DJ, AND an orchestra and still keep it funky. Nothing jumped out as anything but middle of the road. I don't hear them taking any chances except perhaps a bit on instrumentation. Good, but not great. Am I missing something?

Working at a youth residential psychiatric facility for 10 years between 2000-2010, I was often aware of what the youth was into at the time: Jonas Brothers, Twilight, Harry Potter, Fallout Boy, Captain Underpants, Pretty Ricky, and of course Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift. I was impressed to hear that among all of the manufactured music out there, Taylor wrote (or co-wrote) her own songs. I even once caught the video for "You Belong To Me" and thought the storyline was pretty clever. I'd hear more and more pop songs of hers on the radio over the years, surprised she was still winning awards for country music as this was clearly not country, but it was still catchy, though not aimed at my demographic. Of all the Taylor Swift albums out there, this is one I actually have a copy of. Like Harry Potter earlier, I figured I'd dive in and see what the fuss was all about and--like Harry Potter--I have to say I was thoroughly impressed. The production is top-notch, and though her lyrics are topically distant from me, they have a way of putting you right there with her as a co-pilot to her story. We can all relate, whether we've been there recently or not; there's something more-in-the-moment and more earnest about a 20-something Taylor Swift singing about modern dating than a 30-something Ben Gibbard singing about high school prom. Just like week I finished watching the Eras tour on Disney. In the first 5 minutes, I wondered why she didn't do a Super Bowl. And then immediately after that thought and for the remainder of the three-hour show, I saw that this was better than anything she could do at a Super Bowl. She really does give back to her fans and while she's no dancer, she doesn't try to be. She also single handedly boycotted Spotify until they paid all creators a better amount of money; no one else at the time or even now could have done that. I haven't picked up anything of hers since this one album, but I'm not against it. I liked every single I've heard since, and though I've never said it out loud, I guess I'm a Swiftie. Again, it's not made for me and my demographic, but I appreciate that she writes it, it's catchy, and the younger generations have something of substance to listen to amongst so much fluff and pomp. The singles here are good too, but let's not forget the awesome changes of beat and feel of "I Wish You Would," the excitement of exploring the center of the world in "Welcome To New York," and the getting caught up in one's own imagination and world-building in "Wildest Dreams." Too many good songs to list them all. Curious if this project will pull these studio versions out in time and replace them with the Taylor's Version re-releases.

First thing I see on this album is the logo for the IRS label; you know, the group that introduced the world to R.E.M., Oingo Boingo, and . . . Fine Young Cannibals. Knowing a few Go-Go's songs, IRS seems to enjoy an eclectic roster of artists. Let's dig in . . . The light-punk-pop sound and surf-jangly guitars of "How Much More" reminds me of The Kids In The Hall theme song. The vocal harmonies gives me the impression that this is the natural progression of the Ronettes and the Supremes. This is the girl power of the day. "Lust To Love" is reminiscent of the early years of The Cure's no-distortian punk while "This Town" continues in the shagadelic post-disco stylings of the B-52's. "We Got The Beat" has a Toni Basil "Hey Mickey" cheering and breakdown I haven't noticed before. "Can't Stop The World" starts off feeling like lablemates R.E.M.'s "Radio Free Europe." The upbeat "You Can't Walk In Your Sleep (If You Can't Sleep)" makes you realize just how tight the band are; I had to look up if they played their instruments or if they were figureheads for a manufactured girl group. Not only do they play every note, they write all of their own songs. They are no gimmic, the Go-Go's are the real deal. They are hard to categorize. Punk, but not punk, pop but not bubblegum pop, familiar yet unique. A little surf in there too. Extra points for doing their own thing.

Electronic music and rave culture colonized my world in college as unwelcome guests, but I tried to get along with them as best I could. I even tried the food and didn't hate it entirely. Generally I found it overly repetitive and unemotional. Looking back, this music seems like the early stepping stones that led us to infuse better drum programming, stem chopping, and looping into more popular music, like Madonna's "Ray Of Light" at the time, Radiohead's "Kid A" and "Amnesiac," or Taylor Swift's "1989" decades later. I recall BT and Roni Size were the Christopher Columbuses of the time, hailed for forcing this new adventure upon the indigenous peoples and handing out blankets that would infect the world forevermore. I attempt to listen anew, but even as I type, I'm in a repetitive drum and bass groove that goes on for **checks notes** 9 minutes. Oh, there are two more songs approaching the 9 minute mark. Let's hold out hope there will be some variety in those. I can appreciate tracks where someone is rapping/scatting/talking over them which adds variety and changes in the rhyme patterns. It's a bit more like spoken word to a beat at that point. The frantic pulse adds momentum to any environment. Play this at a work, and your day goes by faster without distracting you with melody or purpose. Turn down the TV and put anything on, and the beat lines up and adds anticipation to whatever is going to happen next. Play this at a funeral, and the mourners can't help but bob their heads while collectively blowing their noses in random syncopation. And that's what this is to me: background music that gets one through the day and doesn't draw you in by having you sing along or contemplate the meaning too hard. It's also a breakbeat sampler. "You like DJing? Grab this hot mess and mix and match anywhere in your set!!" Most likely, this a showcase as to what this producer can do. Much like Skrillex went on to produce Justin Beiber's "Where Are Ü Now", perhaps Roni was showing his chops in hopes to eventually sell them to or collaborate with others. I kept my mind open this entire journey, but even with more education on the genre I will--in a nod to the stylings of New Forms--repeat everything I've already said ad nausea since the beginning: this is repetitive and unemotional, a foundation waiting for more to flesh it out.

The vocals really set them apart from much of the other punk I've heard. Distorted guitars and a quick pace is nothing new to punk, but Jello's vocals come across clearly and add melody that some of their peers lack. The drummer has an intelligent approach, finding tasteful accents in the guitar and bass work that otherwise weren't emphasized. Does anyone else hear Sparks in the vocals ("Kill the Poor", "California Über Alles")? The sentiment in "Let's Lynch the Landlord" is ageless, as class warfare is probably the most common theme throughout all of human history. Think the playing is speedy? "Drug Me" speeds up speedy, and I love the chaos of "Chemical Warfare" with its change in speed and rhythm, aforementioned tasty drum hits, and various start/stops. We finally see what the guitarist can do in his solo on "Stealing People's Mail" and the strange scale of his riff in "Ill in the Head." True to punk form, there is a consistent anarchy present, challenging norms and asking why things are the way they are when they could literally be anything else. Covering "Viva Las Vegas" shows they are influenced by more than punk and willing to try their hand at some other genres. It keeps the album playful. This album comes and goes like a whirlwind. They don't mince words, riffs, or time; Dead Kennedys run on the field, bludgeon everyone they see, and salt the field on their exit to find more victims.

Before Garth Brooks added a lap steel guitar and a vocal twang to soft rock and forever re-defined it as country, there was such a thing as soft rock which (for better or worse) gave us Duran Duran, Rod Stewart, Billy Joel, Kenny Loggins, Richard Marx, et al. Today, that is still considered 'soft', but now soft has a negative connotation. Surely Terence Trent D'Arby (apparently now Sananda Maitreya) stems from R&B roots, but there's a handful of soft rock cross-over genres mixed in there as well along with some gospel, some pumping dance grooves of Michael Jackson ("I'll Never Turn My Back On You (Father's Words)"), some intensity of INXS-meets-James Brown ("Dance Little Sister"), the self-awareness and soul-purging of Nina Simone ("As Yet Untitled"), and the seduction of Sade ("Let's Go Forward"). He's not afraid to let in some of the rasp too, which is pretty uncommon with such otherwise smooth grooves. Though always middle of the road and accessible, Introducing the Hardline . . . tries to incorporate much of the other genres that stay middle of the road and comes up with something unique yet not daring. His vocal performance is confident and bold but can be equally timid and delicate, and he executes as if he's very comfortable with the songs and is effortlessly half-riffing off the main melody line. Hey, I didn't know he sang "Sign Your Name." I always tied him to "Wishing Well" but I didn't realize he sang this one too, which I like better. Like a great unknown live band, Terrence eventually succeeded in winning me over. In fact, the entire second half is pretty stacked with the steamy "Let's Go Forward", erotic "Sign Your Name", the fast jazz calypso of "Rain", soulful "As Yet Untitled", and a killer slow-dance doo-wop cover of "Who's Loving You." And now that I see where he's coming from, a second listen reveals the first half has some good tunes as well. The vocal run in "As Yet Untitled" at 4:19 is jazzier than most I've ever heard. The instrumentation is a little too polished for me; I blame the producer more than Trent, but there is a particular 'cheap Casio' feel to some of the keys, orchestral hits, and gated drums. Overall, a great vocal performance; very mature and sophisticated for a debut album.

The Rolling Stones are another band I wanted to be more familiar with, and didn't quite know where to start. Guess it's Exile On Main Street, which I heard was pretty good. This album varies between blues, country, and rock n' roll, all with the same Jagger swagger. I love the addition of horns on some of the tracks. This is raw, raucous, and keeps the party going. You can hear the fun they had while performing on this one. Lightning in a bottle. I imagine The Black Crowes forming out of a desire to recreate "Tumbling Dice" and "Soul Survivor" over and over and call it career. Low-register Jagger on "Rocks Off" could inspire countless Strokes' tunes. The repetitive chords with attitude of "Turd On The Run" could have easily been a Velvet Underground song. I'm sure for die-hard fans, every song is a gem; they certainly capture the Rolling Stones vibe. Some songs feel a bit like hanging out with your friends and making something out of nothing. In such cases, sheer enthusiasm carries the song moreso than the playing or songwriting. Like Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, this may benefit from a bit of trim, keeping only the best tracks for one great LP. No need for this to be a double album. However, if you're looking for that Roni Size "put this on to maintain an energetic and consitent vibe for a long time", Exile On Main Street works for this particular vibe.

Oh, all the Metallica albums, THIS ONE?! I've always thought a live album works better than a greatest hits or best of album, where you can accomplish the same retrospective overview of your catalogue but still offer something new in the process. True, early Metallica was composed much like a symphony with extended musical interludes that explored different moods and tempos before returning to musical themes established at the beginning of the track. Metallica has not only the skill on their instruments but also a classical approach to their earlier writings. And this album straddles the line between such epic masterpieces ("One," "Master Of Puppets") and watered down sell out Bob Rock radio tunes ("Sad But True," "Of Wolf And Man"). And at the time, Michael Kamen was showing up everywhere, adding strings to Aerosmith's "Dream On" for an MTV performance, for example. I gave him credit at first for his work on The Wall, but reconsidered when I heard Roger Waters' demo of "The Trial" where he played all of the parts that I attributed to Kamen. Waters basically handed him the score. And that has always been my feelings towards Kamen; he takes the music you write, doubles it on strings with occasional flourish, but does nothing to really add to the composition. Nothing that a midi file pushed up or down an octave or two can't accomplish. Still not impressed with what he does on these tracks, the most recent Kamen work I've listened to. He is the Bob Rock of classical music. James Hetfield's voice sounds great, save for the ever-present live Auto-Tune. For those moments when the Auto-Tune kicks in, I'm fairly certain they could have left it off and he wouldn't have been THAT off-pitch. Auto-Tune is the Bob Rock of studio plug-ins. Happy to see Jason Newsted still on board here. He undeservedly ended up with the bad end of the deal, brought in to replace a legendary bassist, turned down in album mixes, and eventually kicked out because he was tired of still being treated as the new guy after playing with them for 15 years and demanding his fair share. I usually don't shit on bands changing directions this much, but I vividly recall interviews with Lars saying they do it all themselves and they don't care about radio play and they'd never make a music video. And then they made "One" which was great, and then Lars saying that they only made this video because it added to the art of the piece (which it did) and that they would only make videos if it added an artistic voice to what they were already doing. "One" gets the attention it deserves, they get a taste of the real money, and they join Bob Rock in a watered-down sell out versions of themselves that they so adamently claimed to despise earlier on. Not only did they make a money grab, they fought Napster to make sure they got every last penny. Anyways, aside from the backstory, S&M isn't without merit. Early Metallica did elevate speed metal with virtuosic playing and poeticly edgy lyrics with something to say. Fans loved it, but society as a whole seemed to deny any merit to speed metal. I think S&M was designed to legitimize the genre as 'actual music' by sticking their pinky finger in the air a bit, while playing off their great back catalogue to validate their current drivel. Maybe this album made the "1001" cut because of its 'innovative' blend of thrash and class, but to me it represents the excess bloat of the over-the-top direction they started (and eventually ended) with the Bob Rock era.

For me, 1989 is always the year of Guns N' Roses; not that I'm a mega-fan, but just as a reminder of the what was going on at the time. That makes The Young Gods' "L'Eau Rouge" even that more impressive. This is not the pre-grunge hair metal that was carrying the airwaves of 1989. This is heavy guitars mixed with industrial sounds, released a month before Nine Inch Nails' first album. "La fille de la mort" and "Charolette" are a cinematic traveling gypsy show of sound, predating Gogol Bordello and Devotchka. "Les enfants" merge both of these styles; I can image the music on this one easily alongside any of the tracks on The Cure's Pornography album. The vocal range is pretty small; he won't be asked to duet with Celine Dion anytime soon. The low singing/talking/grunting and occasional screams adds more heaviness and . . . what's the word? Satan! It adds more Satan to these tunes. And I mean that in a good way. This music is leather, fire, sex, and torture, equally at home as the soundtrack to a hardcore orgy as it is to a Manson family murder spree. It's multi-layered cerebral Satan. I imagine they were a big influence for Fantômas. If there were a single, "Crier Les Chiens" would be the one. After this played on YouTube, some of their live stuff popped up which sounded ENTIRELY different. They were playing acoustically, the singer was actually singing a melody, the lyrics were in English. Curious if that style was a one-off or if this album was the one-off. Anyways, not entirely my thing but I can hear talent and innovation regardless.

This sounds like something conjured in one's basement, and for me it adds to the charm of it. The mix of synths, flute and orchestral samples, and sound effects make GREY Area ambitious, sophisticated, and fun. This anything-goes approach reminds me of a classy but less worldly M.I.A., who fearlessly samples all sorts of indigenous music. I assume the credit in both cases goes to the producer. As for Little Simz, she has good flow. Her staccato is tight with the beat; such a style can be easily slurred, but she keeps it crisp. Leaning into the lyrics, they are mostly a positive criticism of everyday society. Not much to say about this one, but I enjoyed it.

"Days of Gradutaion" kicks off Southern Rock Opera like a haunting Tommy The Cat: a spoken prose poetically telling a story of a guy trying to get the girl. But generally the album is laid-back rock with a Southern lean at times; with different vocals, many of these tunes could pass as Tom Petty. Though there are occassional groovy riffs and an extra measure or two ("The Southern Thing"), Southern Rock Opera is mostly standard chord progressions with some good soloing. I can't tell if there is more than one singer but there IS more than one singing style; the vocals are showcased in "Moved," which sounds just like a dude in his garage playing and singing for himself without minding the people outside jogging or walking their dogs. For some, this raw approach may be comforting but for me it hits a little too close to open mic at the local bar, pouring your heart out to a crowd that is--ironically--unmoved and couldn't care less. "Three Great Alabama Icons" serves as a great intro into "Wallace" and clearly establishes that they do not subscribe to the racist mentality associated with the Deep South. (I couldn't help but think that the narrative was delivered in a style similar to Nada Surf's "Popular.") It shouldn't be a revolutionary statement for country or southern rock but it is, and it claims there is more to the Southern lifestyle than just its racist roots. I like that they put that sentiment out there and dissuade assholes from coming to their shows. Overall, middle of the road rock whose only ambition is the album length. They take no chances. I can enjoy this at a festival while in line to get beer and find a spot to await the next band's performance. As typical I'm knocking off a star for being on the list, but I'm adding another for incoroporating the storytelling direction of songs, and for bravely telling their crowd they don't want bigots. Very punk of them. Net gain/loss: 0

Any parent has kids who fixate on a particular movie, and you end up watching it hundreds of times (our movies of the summer for 2024 were "Migration" and "Zootopia"). Same apparently with teens; the decade I worked at the "Psychiatric Residential Treatment Facility for Troubled Youth", I half-watched The Temptations mini-series countless times. I didn't realize I heard a shortened version of "Papa Was A Rolling Stone." The album showcases a 12 minute version; the first 4 minutes is an instrumental intro, odd for a vocal group that doesn't play an instrument. They do a good job of "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face," a song I sang to my newborn first-born while trying to lull him to sleep at night. The original is surprisingly hokey, but Roberta Flack's version is so re-defining that anyone covering the song thereafter always cover her version instead of the original. I liked hearing The Temptations version, but they didn't bring anything new to the table. The Temptations are a legendary vocal group who didn't write most of their songs, and they didn't write any of them on All Directions; as such I suppose I can't weigh in the instrumentation, musical performance, lyrics, or songwriting. Left with just vocals alone, sure they sing and harmonize well, but I'm saddened by how manufactured this is. This isn't even the original lineup, begging the question if any individual even mattered or if they were just a Motown brand. If the Temptations all died, these session musicians would still lay down the tracks written by the same songwriters and they would plug in another group for the singing duties. Believe it or not, I enjoyed the album, but I can't give too much credit to the Temptations for it.

Somehow lost my write-up from yesterday. Anyways, it basically said, "Clash good! Innovative! More genres than just punk!"

When you hear a band name like Soundgarden or Smashing Pumpkins, you're intrigued to find out what they sound like. The creative name lends one to assume the music is equally creative. Enter American Music Club, which sounds more like a Sears catalog of music, or a group you can join to get your first 12 CDs for only a penny. And helping to prove my earlier point, the music is as basic and sterile as the band name itself. Upon first hearing the name, I wondered which version of America I'll be getting: Willie Nelson America, Wilco's alt-country from the big city of Chicago America, Lee Greenwood America, Simon and Garfunkle black turtleneck America . . . The America I got was more like the white sweater on the back of a polo shirt, with the sleeves draped forwards over the shoulders of an ivy league frat brother making sure not to forget to bring his tennis racquet onto the sailboat this weekend. Not really what I'd call California. The closest association my mind can make between what I'm hearing and what I assume they're shooting for is perhaps lazily driving past rows and rows of grapes of numerous vineyards on a golden-tinged afternoon through Napa Valley. At best, the album is sublime, working a bit beneath what is presented up front, most notably on "Lonely" and "Jenny." The raucous "Bad Liqour" breaks up the sleep album, thank God. Not that it's incredible, but it finally shows variety. More of this, please! Contributing to the laziness is the instrumentation. Just chords--basic ones at that--with no real contribution to melody. I just need to say "the opening guitar lick to Nirvana's 'All Apologies'" and you know exactly the melody I'm speaking of. You hear it, and you know immediatly the song that is playing. California is missing such notable instrumentation. But this is 1988; perhaps they were going for a U2 "With Or Without You" vibe. But even then, U2 created so much atmosphere in the sound where it wasn't just chords but tension and release and drone and feedback. It's minimal, and it's done right. Maybe this list 1001 should have been 501; there seems to be many examples of filler for the sake of hitting their numerical goal. Meanwhile, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea is not on the list at all. :(

Treat yo'self to some cheap thrills at Morrison Hotel, from $2.50 and up! By now The Doors are in full bloom, and the conviction with which Mr. Mojo Risin' himself sang his lyrics on the first album has long had the consistent quality to back up his hubris. It strikes me funny that some of the qualities I chastise on some albums are the hallmarks of other albums when in the right hands. For instance, the languid lost-in-the-desert head-full-of-peyote feel of "Indian Summer" hits the right droning meditation alongside the best of Velvet Underground that with other groups would just be boring and uninspired. The first side is easily the more popular, and "Peace Frog" has the best guitar solo I've heard from Robby Krieger to date. But the second side shouldn't be dismissed; the fun "Land Ho!" and swanky "The Spy" perfectly set the expectations and the band simply delivers perfectly.

I've always held "Come On Eileen" as one of the three quintessential one-hit-wonder songs of the 80's. It is perfect, and so I'm very curious to see what else is going on under the hood. What?! This song isn't even on this album?? Now I'm REALLY curious what they got going on on this album. "This Is What She's Like" is half-sung, half-spoken in the fashion of a lounge singer's approach while conversing with the audience, though the music is less "dark basement" and more "department store overhead speakers," specifically in the furniture section, until the throwback to Come On Eileen at the end where you exit the store to the overly glossy white floor tiles reflecting all of the neon lights of the mall food court as you make your way to get a you-so-deserve-this ice cream shake. I keep hearing "Come On Eileen" in these songs, even the "Werewolves of London" chord patterns of "One Of Those Things". There's something rollicking and simultaneously 50's and 80's in their sound. Though I only know the one song, The Boomtown Rats come to mind. I seriously had to look up if this was some sort artistic attempt to deconstruct "Come On Eileen" and re-write it into other songs. That's when I learned that the once 10-piece band was a four-piece by this, their third album, and that those other members left the group after recording the album. Maybe that influences my headspace some, but Don't Stand Me Down does seem to take the approach of a band who has one last thing to say, not really striving for a 3-minute radio hit or caring to capitulate to marketers or producers, and just doing whatever they feel like. "The Waltz" follows suit as the final swansong, a band's last brilliant flash before accepting their own demise. Passionate, heroic, proud in the face of being ignored, and beautifully sad. I believe it.

When we first meet Dumbledore there is a reverent respect bestowed upon him by his peers. We never really see him battle Dark Magic or earn the accolades that surround him; meanwhile we're constantly given example after example of the power and evil of Voldemort in real-time. As inflated as Voldemort's character is, we know that he only scared of one wizard: Dumbeldore. Like Yoda, we meet him (in the original trilogy) at the end of whatever actions made him famous and renown, yet we know and believe that they were great without really seeing proof ourselves. This is how I know Willie Nelson; as someone who is lauded by peers and critics alike, whose reputation precedes him, and yet I have no real direct knowledge of him outside of the beautiful "You're Always On My Mind," playing Farm Aid, and having to do Taco Bell commercials in order to raise enough money to pay for all of the taxes he didn't pay over the years. And now I see him in his prime, great yet unpretentious. This is it. This is why he's one of the greats. From the instrumentation and the odd chord sequence in the opening chords, I can immediately tell I'm in for a treat. Though Willie jumps right back to an expected acoustic guitar for much of the first half of the album, it is clear that anything is on the table. Throughout, we hear an earnestness and a clarity in his voice, and his guitar playing and picking makes up in melody what it lacks in technicality. I love his choice of instrumentation. Aside from the typical dobro, lap steel, mandolin, banjo, and fiddle, we instead get teased with piano, accordian, and harmonica that threaten to show their face but mostly just pop up occasionally. Before there was the "country and western" genre, there was the "country" and "western" genres. Willie's country music sounds like it's no stranger (red headed or otherwise) to the saloon. Specifically, "Down Yonder" is exactly the piece you'd expect to hear after a gunfight in the saloon when the bartender wants to get everyone back at ease and instructs the piano player to play something upbeat, that is until King Adrock punches him in the face during a robbery and leaves with two ladies and a beer. A touch of jazz is present in most places we hear piano, and more evidently in the piano and guitar work on "Remember Me (When the Candle Lights are Gleaming)." It's not everyday you hear a country album with instrumental songs, but there are more than a couple here. And there's even little ditties like the under-a-minute "Denver" who says its peace and leaves, refreshingly without a clear verse or chorus. Similarly, "Bandera" lasts just long enough to voice a musical statement over a beautiful chord progression before sending us off to ride home in the sunset. I love how quiet this album is too. Modern production is a battle for loudness and to that end, is often overly compressed to the point of squashing the dynamics. There are parts on this album that invite one to listen in, to come to the music rather than having the music come to you. Kum Ba Yah.

ATL, represent! So many groups are from Seattle or L.A. or generally just East Coast or West Coast, but OutKast proudly represent Atlanta, and Atlanta welcomes the association with such a hip and ground-breaking group. I often speak of OutKast in the same breath as Tool. Their particular genre is not my normal go-to, but they are the innovators of their genre, stretching the limits of the game into new possibilities, and as such, they deserve a respectable listen. Throwing in skits and clever lyrics over a bangin' beat are present but nothing new, but their use of melody and creativity in style (in fashion and videos) and lyrical content demonstrate an ability to lead others in a new direction. They helped to usher in post-gangsta rap, redirecting rap's focus on violence as a cool factor. Gangsta rap fashion was an A-shirt (ahem, a "wife beater") over low-drooped pants that revealed one's boxers; OutKast preferred to be "So Fresh, So Clean" and next thing you know being sharply dressed was the newest flex. They throw in vocoders on "Toilet Tisha" and backward guitar loops on "Slum Beautiful." Not that they are entirely taking the high road; they still luv dem hoes, but they also care enough to make them cum first (or at least "spontaneously combust in unison"). Believe them, Ms. Jackson. They are fo' real.

Anyone who actually cooked with sage knows it doesn't blend with ANYTHING, let alone three other herbs. It's the gin of seasonings. However, somehow Simon and Garfunkel put together a rare perfect Long Island Iced Tea on Parsley, Sage, Rosemary And Thyme in its songwriting, vocal and instrumental performance, and even song order. It flows perfectly, even without the Oxford comma. The sparse instrumentation on the early tracks help to highlight the singing, vocal harmonies, and precise finger picking. "Cloudy" is a great deep cut on here. Move over, Panic! At the Disco and Fall-Out Boy! Simon and Garfunkel have out long-titled you with "A Simple Desultory Philippic (Or How I Was Robert McNamara'd Into Submission)" and even Bob Dylan'ed it as if he were playing bull-headed and careless Holden Caulfield, while using proper nouns for verbs. Not to be too Philippic myself, but I've heard some Paul Simon solo work that I feel was trying too hard to scream "I know music theory!!!" The skill is on display here as well, but it feels more natural and less in your face. It's not trying to be poppy, but remains approachable in its artfulness. Happy to have delved fully into this one today.

Journalists Quicksilver Messenger Service don't just ask WHO do you love, but they make their English teachers proud by making this intial statement and adding the WHEN, WHERE, HOW, and WHICH supporting sentences before concluding by repeating their main point: WHO. These brilliance of these architects of the essay form ends there though. I wouldn't be surprised if the guitarist was in the mixing room, being sure he was turned up enough. One can barely hear the singer, which may be for the better based on such pedestrian lyrics as "I need you baby and it ain't no lie/Oh, without your lovin' I'd surely die." The skillset of the muscians is evident, but largely uninspired. When they finally break from the exposé on love, they go straight into a song with the same key while the drummer plays the same prevailing Bo Diddley beat as the previous 25 minutes. I believe "Happy Trails" is the best song on here. Though this cover is poorly sung, it IS expertly whistled. At least it provides a much needed change in direction. The next song that auto-played after this album was a banger called "Cobra" by this same group. Evidently they can put together something focused and less meandering, but we don't see it here.

The Pet Shop Boys were pushing electronic music in the 80's at a time when the genre was relatively new and the technology pretty limited to sequencers. The tech has since come a long way, and it's refreshing to hear how Pet Shop Boys have adapted. Opening with James Bond theme music orchestral hits, "Can You Forgive Her?" packs the initial punch while the remainder of the album features lush synth strings more often, all over a continual 16th-note beat, and light-hearted melodies. Vocals are as clean and airy as Ben Gibbard with an occasional pronounced accent. I hear glimpses of the great "West End Girls" at times in some of the synth horn sounds and rhythmic talking. "Dreaming of the Queen" feels very similar to the laid back bubbly beat of Duran Duran's "Come Undone." Is that a Phil Collins sample on "The Theatre"? I can't say for sure, but it's fun to throw in some of these samples to change things up halfway through the album. "One and One Make Five" shares a pre-chorus with Madonna's "Borderline." (Why can't musicians add to five? Pet Shop Boys say "One and One Make Five" but it makes two, Ben Folds 5 is made up of 3 musicians, Radiohead sings "2+2=5" but that's 4, and Lou Bega sings "Mambo No. 5" having never written mambos 1-4.) So many good melodies, but "One in a Million" is my favorite, with it's spacey falsetto lines and wide atmospheric synths. It feels pure as childhood and can easily fit on the Neverending Story soundtrack. Happy to see they continued chasing their muse beyond the 80's.

Like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, I first heard some singles by Pretenders and assumed the group was softer than what turned out to be the truth on their debut ("Maps" and "Brass in Pocket," respectively). You can definitely hear some Karen O in some of Chrissie Hynde's vocalizations, especially in the higher register. And Chrissie the main songwriter, coming up with some innovative musical ideas, sometimes on the verge of prog. The opener "Precious" gives an immediate punk edge both in the music, vocal approach, and lyrics; from the jump, you know anything goes. They turn up the anything goes in the 7/8 timing and lyrical rushing through triplets of "The Phone Call." Again, we see great timing on "Tattooed Love Boys", alternating between 7/8 and 8/8 more smoothly than the hyper-square precision of Rush's "Freewill." The middle of the album eases off the reigns, offering a more relaxed, poppy, and less-caustic version of themselves. "Private Life" combines the darkness of Def Leppard's intro to "Foolin'" with the feel of The Police's "Walking on the Moon," adding reggae to their repertoire. There is a bit of Heart here too. "Brass In Pocket" is the perfect strut between the pop and punk introduced earlier on the album with the backing vocals leaning more into a Hall & Oates vibe. I had only previously knew two songs by Pretenders and as a result was misguided as to what they do. Very impressed with this band: their direction, songwriting, and performance on this album, even more so given that it is there debut.

This is a review by evon. The name of the reviewed is Brothers by The Black Keys. The distortion on "Everlasting Light" is crunchy yet warm, the rhythm funky, and the backing vocals add a gospel to this blues. Perfect opener. "Never Give You Up" is another great highlight, musically in line with early Temptations. I know this album, and I still sing "I'm Not the One" and "These Days," so some of these songs do have staying power. On the latter song, the nostalgic sadness (in not only the lyrics but how they're sung) of "The little house . . ./ is where I felt most alive/ . . . that old Ford / I miss it Lord, I miss it Lord" gets me every time. It reminds me of a time when everyone I ever knew was still alive, blissfully unaware of a life any other way. We had it so good at one point, guys. --------------------------------------------- This was a fun re-listen. Music can do so many things; it came make you feel rebellious against injustice, get you lost in a distant land, shake your booty, or question our purpose. I tend to lean more towards the self-reflecting soul-searching over just musical entertainment. The songs are fun and mostly upbeat, and combines blues with R&B and garage rock, and I am thoroughly entertained, but for me most songs lack some gravitas; it's just fun. But when it hits, it hits hard.

Once we started this project--around the time of listening to Marianne Faithfull--I assumed we'd hear some Joni Mitchell, which excited me because of her reputation as a great songwriter, and I haven't heard much outside of the poignant "Big Yellow Taxi." Or so I thought. This voice sounds very familiar, exactly that soft Sesame Street/SchoolHouse Rock! instrumentation and relaxed "Laughter in the Rain" vibe that I attribute to the 70's. I assumed her sound was more folky, but there is soft rock, interesting arrangements (flutes, strings, saxophones), and some jazz infused in her melodies. You can tell she knows how to write a song easily, but is choosing to push some more advanced musical ideas, even if some smooth jazz licks may sound like the theme music for Bob Ross' Joy of Painting. I keep hearing glimpses of Billy Joel's Cold Spring Harbor and Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes albums. They are all in good company. Skilled and smooth, but would benefit from more catchy and accessible melodies.

This album deserves all of the acclaim it gets. An amazing mix of electro-pop, dance, rock, and plenty of psychedelia, Oracular Spectacular is a sonic wall of intricate musical ideas which alone hold water but becomes a tour-de-force when alongside such innovative and catchy songwriting. "Time To Pretend" both mocks and aspires to the excessive lifestyle we've come to accept from glamour rockstars, and they come off as rockers seasoned in such hedonism instead of a new band putting out a debut album. But the consistent message I get from MGMT is that the kids are gonna be alright. "The Youth" passes the torch to the younger generation, offering encouragement and confidence that they are ready to take the helm: "The Youth are starting to change." And "Kids" reminds them to be responsible with their power: "Control yourself/ Take only what you need from it." "Pieces of What" doubts that there is much value to civilizations' traditions, that the youth inherited a mess and sadly, they may be better off starting over, leading with love. And it's one hell of song to belt out full voice after a couple of drinks. "Electric Feel" accomplishes an impressive task of making 3/4 feel like a danceable 4/4, impossibly remaining fully accessible to ravers and radio listeners who may not be aware of the technical complexity that is happening here. It grooves so well, and it shouldn't. Completely unique. Some of the latter songs meander in their psychedelia a bit, but there is always a melodic payout. Too much of this whimsy (like on their follow up Congratulations), and the album would blur into formless soundscapes, but in this context it offers more variety to what else is happening. I would be remiss to neglect mentioning the genius of Dave Fridmann's production on this album. I became a fan of the cleanliness and spaciousness of his productions (regardless that his clients often give him such challenging noise and bombast) since he first started working with The Flaming Lips. His expertise shines through once again on this album, which often has so many elements going on that in other hands, it would be muddy and dull. As it is, this album sounds forever fresh and exciting.

Wow, this album cover and title! I have no idea what to expect . . . Having heard the whole album just now, it was beyond anything I could even possibly imagine. This album is as hard to like as it is to dislike. On the one hand, there are plenty of lyrics-first snippets that appear to be just singing any old sentences to odd jazzy chords, like literally just reading this sentence with mild melodic intonation and a synth that can produce thousands of sounds, but where only one was chosen for the entire album length. On the other hand, how can you not like the Jim Gaffigan inner-monologue-spoken-aloud lyrics like “gonna blow all my money on anime (yes)”, “cool to be a cat (meow, meow, meow, meow)”, and “something’s wrong with me”? With most of these tracks under two minutes (many under just one), simply wait it out and there’s another quickly behind. The best track here (besides “Tokyo”) are the ones where he has collaborated with someone. This shines a light on the main issue with the album: the scattered thoughts and snippets of melody in short songs only feel completed once flushed out with another creator presenting ideas. Without such collaboration, the songs are short impulses that sound too similar to each other for extended listening.

Listened twice through, but no time for a proper write up. Great blend of jazz, funk, samba, and soul, expertly sung and performed.

I caught Athens' own Five Eight and Big Fish Ensemble at the Star Bar many years ago. One of the best local shows I've seen. For an encore, members of both groups came out and played "Christmas" and "Baba O'Riley". What a night! ********************** Here it is. The legendary Who. Their legendary album. This is the first I've listened to this album, having only heard (the aforementioned cover version of) "Christmas" and "Pinball Wizard", which I first heard as an instrumental marching band arrangement for the halftime field show in high school. I can always appreciate a good "Overture" in a thematic work, and even an "Underture" I suppose. It took some time to kick in, but there are some good tunes here. Aside from the original two I heard, "Go To The Mirror!", "Tommy Can You Hear Me?", "Sally Sampson", and "I'm Free" stood out. I hear why Keith Moon was a highly regarded drummer. My band in high school had a bassist who thought John Entwistle was the greatest of all time, and I can hear talent there. But for the life of me, I kept waiting to hear Pete Townshend play a mind-blowing guitar solo, and the moment never came. I find out now that he's the main songwriter for most of The Who's material. At least he's more than a signature windmill guitar move. There's a fine line between experimental and inaccessible. The Who have plenty of catchy and well-written songs, but it seems on Tommy they went a bit too avant-garde and forgot to be more memorable.

The variety on Horses is remarkable. From the New York punk of "Gloria : In Excelsis Deo" to the reggae of "Redondo Beach" to the almost spoken-word building fever of a performance in "Birdland," we see many sides of Patti Smith, and that's just in the first three songs. Like The Doors, the band is able to follow the ebb and flow of the lead singer's performance and match her point for point. A passionate work by all. "Break It Up" is a melodic highlight, and one can imagine the "Land of a Thousand Dances" section of "Land" sowing the seed to grow a future Karen O. This is performance art captured and preserved forever on tape.

Blending early rock n' roll, skiffle, doo-wop and a classy nerdism, Buddy Holly & The Crickets have unique and inspired sound that defines the 50's sound both directly and through their imitators. The quality of singing and songwriting shines through the old production techniques of the recordings, and some howling "Ow!"s and surfy Dick Dale guitar lines testify that this music is by and for the youth. It's hard not to like these catchy songs. Each one is under three minutes; short, sweet, and then moves on. The hits are "Oh Boy!", "Maybe Baby", and "That'll Be The Day" with that punky triplet fill. Slower songs like the swoony "It's Too Late", "An Empty Cup (And A Broken Date)", and even the faster "Rock Me My Baby" could be musically mistaken as Elvis if not for Buddy's singing in a higher register. Buddy Holly is an American treasure and is forever tied to the thought of simpler times, young love, and an optimistic future.

Musical historians can pinpoint the boom of Latin jazz fusion better than I, but at some point Santana, Chic Corea, Cal Tjader, WAR, and countless others helped to collectively define this genre. The opening track is an invocation, preparing your mind for something special, and sure enough we go to "Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen." I've heard it before, but today I hear it with new ears. Carlos' playing is amazingly smooth and lyrical. There's that cosmic taking-peyote-in-the-desert sound before erupting into a full on rock n' roll jam at the end. By the time "Oye Como Va" ends, you are lost in the music, and you maintain a pulse and direction despite the clever and natural musical left turns in "Incident at Neshabur." "Samba Pa Ti" is the surprise gem on the album, slow, soulful, and melodic, and proving no real need for a singer. Though this band is named after guitarist Carlos Santana, the entire band is exceptional, especially the percussion section. Great jams, and great vibes.

Today I learned that Otis Redding wrote and originally sang "Respect." For an album with so many covers, nothing feels out of place. I couldn't imagine anyone could sing "Change Gonna Come" as well as Sam Cooke, but Otis really made it his own. Each of these slow songs have that "Dock of the Bay" laid back with a paper fan in the heat of summer sippin' lemonade feel. With a soulful voice both gritty and longing, Otis Redding knows how to use his voice to fulfill every emotion he wants.

I have this album but only gave it a couple of plays. Listening back all of these years later, I see I was completely left with the wrong impression of a mediocre rendition of The Cult; hard to imagine how I got there since listening back, I hear nothing of the sort. This is more akin to early Radiohead, à la The Bends, with spacious light guitar sounds and a perfected falsetto. It never goes full out rock n' roll though, and creates a calming and almost religiously solemn mood. You're caught up in the moment, but the moment is an entire album length. Jeff Buckley's voice is powerfully delicate and deserves the showcase it has on Grace, but the songs aren't always really songs so much as moods, but maybe that is all that is needed.

Appropriately, the imagery for War looks straight out of Lord of the Flies. The music is no less savage on the first half of the album. "Broken bottles under children's feet" sings a young Bono in "Sunday Bloody Sunday," who effortlessly resonates at any pitch he is singing. The drumming is militant and steady, and could easily have been programmed instead. I hate to keep comparing things to various incarnations of The Cure, but I can hear similar sparse ringing guitar tones over steady beats in "New Year's Day" as I hear in early 80's Cure ("10:15 Saturday Night" or "A Forest"), while Bono's higher register evokes Ian Astbury of The Cult. "Like a Song . . ." recalls Duran Duran, "Drowning Man" smacks a bit of The Church, and "The Refugee" has elements of Talking Heads, but while one can hear similarities and influences in caught snippets here and there, U2 combine these elements into a whole that is their own. Surprisingly, the second half the album feels a lot more friendly and poppy compared to the political statement of the first half. I previously knew the two big hits on this album, but I didn’t find any new gems here.

I first heard of Fela Kuti from a friend who just bought the "Live!" album with Ginger Baker. We listened to it and--like every other song I've heard from Fela since--were instantly immersed in a funky, jazzy, and extended hypnotic groove. I eventually made a Fela Kuti station on Pandora, added Budos Band (thanks for the recommendation, Joel!) and few thumbs up to some tracks, and let the it do its thing; it's one of my favorite stations. Zombie follows suit in engaging rhythms and jazzy improvisation, which doesn't seem limited to solo instruments. I imagine like a great Southern Baptist choir, the backup singers have their phrases pre-loaded and ready to go whenever Fela gives the signal, either visually or with his own vocal cue. On the surface, the music holds it own as a skilled and groovy jam, but when you consider what he's saying and the push back he's giving to the authority of the land, this rebel music carries real weight and gravitas. Though I've heard much of his music, I haven't heard a full album aside from the aforementioned live album. Paying full price for an album with 4 extended jam songs is a tough pill to swallow, but as an online radio or elongated playlist, his music shines for hours. I haven't heard a song from Fela that I did not like.

Once you hit "Sailing", Halcyon Digest becomes more digestible. The beginning is good too, but it definitely makes you think the album is going to be different than it is. Nice move, riding goofy foot at first while people are still attentively listening, and then moving a bit more mainstream before their attention wanes too much. "Earthquake" has a grandiose heaviness to it, but a whole album of it would be too much. Like Kid A's "Treefingers", it sets an atmosphere and then gets out of the way. I really enjoy the production on this, and the different take on shoegaze at first, and garage pop later on. The album evolves and changes and grows, and it grows on me too.

You know you have a classic album when each track has its own dedicated Wikipedia page. What can I say about this album that hasn't been overly stated by those with more eloquent tongues for decades now since 1967? Yes, this was the album that broke all of the rules of popular music, adding classical Western and Eastern instrumentation and incorporating the most modern of musical inventions (mellotron) and recording techniques (tape loops, backmasking). Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band not only pushes the sound and songwriting of modern pop, but also harkens back to song styles of yesteryear's earliest recordings. To this day, it is still a genre-divergent sampling of the best of what humankind can produce musically in the 20th century. Not just an album of the year or decade, but of the century. "Fixing A Hole" (along with "Penny Lane", also recorded during the Pepper sessions) is one of the greatest songs Paul has ever written. John was on a hot streak with "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds", "Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite", and "A Day In The Life" (along with "Strawberry Fields Forever", also recorded during the Pepper sessions). George contributes an absolute masterpiece of meter, melody, and lyric with "Within You Without You." And Billy Shears himself adds lead vocal to "With A Little Help From My Friends", the second best song ever to feature Ringo's voice after the self-penned "Octopus's Garden." "The Beatles were so high, they let Ringo sing a couple of tunes." --Bill Hicks As much as I love this album, I would happily remove "When I'm Sixty-Four" and "She's Leaving Home" to be replaced by "Penny Lane" and "Strawberry Fields Forever." Also, I am surprised that John let Paul throw in a mundane, meaningless middle section into his epic "A Day In The Life;" the best work here was John's and in figuring out how to transition out of Paul's part. I'm sure Paul patted himself on the back for adding such an 'important' part to John's already impressive work. I guess there are some things that I say about the Beatles that I haven't heard other critics say: 1. The Beatles were so influential partly because they were so influential. Dominating the cultural spotlight, they were able to broadcast a beacon of love, and their voice carried the political weight of the people. Suddenly, other groups were free to write their own songs, if only in desire to get a message across. Music was seen as a legitimate medium to give voice to those who were otherwise muffled, and the ideas were no longer empty confection but something to be respectfully and sometimes fearfully considered. 2. For all of their acclaim, they are still the most underrated band of all time. People are so blown away with Lennon's songs and lyrics, they overlook how well the Beatles harmonize with each other, each a fan of vocal groups like the Everly Brothers (imagine "If I Fell" or "Girl" or even later on with "Because" or "Dig A Pony" without the crucial backing vocals). People are so adamently fans of cute Paul's clear vocal range and songwriting, that the average fan overlooks that he was one of the most melodic bassists ever to play. From numerous perspectives, they were at the very top of their game, and accolades highlighting any aspect of their genius always overlook some other equally impressive attribute. They deserve even more recognition than they received, and unlike other legends of their time that are fading away with each generation (Graceland had the largest handicapped parking lot I've ever seen), the Beatles' music has and will endure forever. Regardless of when the aliens invade and ask for evidence as to why humanity should be spared annihilation, our best offering always is to let them hear Sgt. Pepper.

I only caught some of the video for "Frontier Psychiatrist" but was so immediately enamored by the sound and visuals that I remembered The Avalanches, though I never saw the video again. Internet commerce was a relatively new thing back then, and I remember Since I Left You was my first ever purchase from this new company called Amazon. At least, it was supposed to be. $25 for an Australian import and a delivery that took weeks was less than ideal, but what else could I do? When it finally showed up, the cover was different. I opened it, played it, and realized that they sent me the "Since I Left You" maxi-single. Double-checking that I placed the order correctly, I contacted customer service and informed them of their mix up and that they sent me the wrong disc which had the same title and artist. They said they would send the correct album and provide a return slip for the single (which I had opened, unbeknownst to them). This time, it took about a month, but when it showed up, it was AGAIN the maxi-single. I contacted them again, telling them this is the first experience I had with their company, that I certainly wouldn't spend $25 on a maxi-single, and their inability to fix a mistake the second time makes me question how they prioritize their customers; I asked that they overnight me the correct album without additional charge, and to allow me to keep a copy of the maxi-single since they obviously wanted me to have it (and since I already opened it, still unbeknowst to them). This makes me sound like an asshole, but again this was the early days of e-commerce, and there were scams a-plenty and I was worried I wouldn't get a resolution; plus, I didn't want to explain the opened maxi-single. Well, they overnighted the correct CD, included a return slip for the unopened maxi-single, and I got to keep the opened one, which had additional tracks that were not on the album. Since then, I continued to purchase from Amazon, single-handedly making them grow into a billion dollar company. I heard other people started to use them too; they must have heard about my favorable review. Oh, and the album (and maxi-single) is impressive. I didn't realize it when I ordered it, but they consist entirely of pre-recorded material. This is a more mellow Paul's Boutique without the extra addition of vocals. "Frontier Psychiatrist" remains my favorite here, but "Since I Left You" has such a Fantasy Island 'welcome to paradise' vibe, you are transported to lush land of house exotico that keeps the party going for the album's duration. I don't recall songs by title so much as peak moments where that out-of-tune piano sample comes in, or they start chanting "Flight 2 2 is off to Honolulu" and the like. Unlike some electronica that is ripe for cutting and mixing into a DJ's live set, this work by The Avalanches is meant to play uninterrupted from start to finish. An impressive debut.

Punk in approach, dangerous, and unpredictable, PJ Harvey's Rid Of Me is raw catharsis. Her howls and screams are not the delicate sounds of her peers at the time, such as Tori Amos or Mazzy Star. She is vocally more of the Patti Smith lineage that eventually spawned Karen O, and lyrically equally bloody and gritty. The band is musically abrasive but accessible in that Pixies loud-soft-loud approach; and they don't shy from interesting time signatures, throwing the listener off-beat on a whim but in a style that is more loose than technical. Rid Of Me is a work of art more than conventional songwriting, and like all art, its appreciation is based on the tastes and allowances of the individual who experiences it.

Dust by the Screaming Trees shows a bit of range within a soft rock genre. The opener is an eastern-tinged goth rock à la The Church, and they switch to more of a Cracker psych-rock sound on the single "All I Know." It's decent soft rock, but remains a peer amongst lesser bands at the time, like Soul Asylum, the Wallflowers, or Dogstar. Every song is trying for a single, using common chord progressions, easy melodies, and slick production. They would do well to play more instrumental parts outside of just strumming a wall of chords. It's too middle-of-the-road and predictable for me. "Sworn and Broken" is a good example of how they can do straight forward rock correctly; the melodies and harmonies are better, and they move the solo to an organ to add more variety to their sound. "Traveler" is my favorite here. More lush, and finally breaking from the standard chord progressions and arpeggios.

I know Elvis Costello has a great reputation amongst music critics, but I never quite got it; granted, I only heard a handful of tunes, but nothing to fawn over. Maybe I needed to listen in an album format (versus a few single tracks), but finally, I get it. There's a new wave Cars bop in this pop and a wall of sound so full I had to look up if it was produced by Phil Spector (it wasn't). The songwriting doesn't mind taking a few left turns; nothing too abrupt, but a variation enough to keep the songs interesting and familiar but not entirely predictable. "Oliver's Army", the staccato "Green Shirt", the slower "Party Girl", and "Busy Bodies" are early favorites, feeling like an 80's revisionist interpretation of the 50's. Many songs could fit alongside theatrical productions like Grease, Little Shop of Horrors, or even the more glammy tunes of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. "Goon Squad" stands out as a noticeable change in course towards a more driving romp and stomp, a haunting punk march with interesting meter. Overall, the welcome twists and turns follow the melody wherever inspiration takes it rather than forcing a melody to adhere to set structure of chords established in previous verses. As a result, the music remains interesting despite keeping much of the same instrumentation and sounds throughout Armed Forces.

The writing on the Polaroid graphic says "A short film by Kendrick Lamar," but I didn't pick up on the storyline at first. As the piece moves forward, the story emerges of a youth in the streets trying to rise above his circumstances and find escape and redemption through pain and faith. The album follows a similar thread. The earlier tracks are musically lackluster, relying on mainly on beat and lyrics for rhythm and melody. A turning point happens with "The Art Of Peer Pressure," which infuses more musicality into the intro, while the remainder of the track is again a bit bleak, again displaying the harsh reality of his situation. From "good kid" onwards, we get more interesting sounds and production, mimicking the maturing of the youth contemplating what remains if he dies and what purpose it would serve. We finally get redemption in "I'm Dying of Thirst" and then follow that with "Real", reflecting on how he was not real and whole with the earlier trappings of youth and gang culture until he finally left it. I can appreciate the overall positive message and the elevation of rap to an art form, though we wallowed long through some old tropes in order to arrive here, like Andy Dufresne, who "crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side."

I haven't followed all of the incarnations of Neil Young to differentiate what he did as part of Buffalo Springfield; Crazy Horse; Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young; or even with Pearl Jam. I just know of what I've heard, I like it; even the songs penned by Young and covered by other bands that I know better than his original versions. "Cinnamon Girl" is a justifiable standard on classic rock stations, but I really enjoy the mellower feel of the remainder of the first half, especially the dreamy "Round & Round (It Won't Be Long)." The second half is a bit predictable; the country stylings of "The Losing End (When You're On)" and the minor key dirge of "Running Dry (Requiem for the Rockets)" sound familiar, pay homage to the tropes of the genre but never escaping them. The gypsy violin performance on the latter track is an album highlight. We are rewarded for our patience with the closer "Cowgirl in the Sand" when Crazy Horse play an extended jam, and the vocals sound a bit like the Bee Gees trying their hand at rock n' roll. The album has an overall warm sonic coloring. It sounds old, with a tone that some modern musicians attempt to capture in homage to early recording techniques and available equipment. It's a good listen through and through.

I forgot about Soul II Soul; I thought that would be a justified chip on my shoulder for this album, but I was surprised to discover that this album has more good songs than bad. "Keep On Movin'" demands you to keep moving, both lyrically and via its constant thumping bass. The next two tracks are throwaways, but looking past that, the rest of the album is pretty good. All of it keeps an upbeat pulse with a focus on keeping you on the dance floor. With the lead 'singer' sounding a bit like musical comedian Jemaine Clement, the best qualities of the album reside in the rhythm, solo jazz instruments (flute, vibraphone), backup singers, and production. The mix of dance, funk, hip hop, and jazz feel natural, and the sound palette on Club Classics Vol. One evolve throughout the album. Before the album feels too predictable in its house beat and rhythm, they add vibraphone on one song, trumpets and orchestral hits on another, and congas and piano debut on yet another song. The track I was looking forward to most ("Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)" is mostly a cappella. Nice change of pace, but I don't remember this version; dare they release a remix of the song as a single but leave the less known version on the album? Yes, they dare. This album makes it easy for a DJ, and these beats can be interspersed in most any set. Club music isn't really my jam, but this is enjoyable for what it is.

Kicking off Beggars Banquet with the howling screams of Mick Jagger on "Sympathy for the Devil" is quite a statement. I was buckled in, but nothing else on the album warrants such reckless abandon. We get some country and blues and the repetitive "Jigsaw Puzzle" before we hit the reset button and begin the formula again with the rockin' "Street Fighting Man" and following it with more country and blues. The braggadocious machismo redirects from street fights to threesomes with 15 year old runaways or trying to find a down to earth factory girl. "Salt of the Earth" is a pub sing along meant for the everyday man. So far, this follows a Rolling Stones trend of having some great songs on albums, but as a whole, there are some misses.

Almost every song on this untitled album--Led Zeppelin's fourth--has become a radio staple, and the few that haven't should have been. Not a bad track here. After punching the listener in the face with two back-to-back beasts of momentum, they showcase a medieval folk sound on "The Battle Of Evermore" while Robert Plant exercises his falsetto. We continue their unnecessary obsession with Tolkien on the swampy stomp of "Misty Mountain Hop," displaying an unrivaled literary fanboy status that went unmatched until the 2000's brought us Harry And The Potters. Interestingly, "Stairway To Heaven" has between 2 and 50 times fewer listens than any other song on this album. I concede that it's a great song, and I agree that I never have to hear it again, but for the sake of giving the album a proper listen, I let it spin. Between the acoustic guitar and recorders at the beginning and the distorted guitars and screams on the song's seconnd half, this song works as a great bridge sitting in the middle of folky "Battle of Evermore" and the bouncy rock of "Misty Mountain Hop." Always a fan of odd time, I appreciate the ability to make the 5/4 of "Four Sticks" feel natural. "Going To California" is one my favorite Zep tracks; the rolling fingerpicking is reminiscent of the golden rolling hills of Napa Valley, and it takes me to a calming haze of mind similar to Pink Floyd's "A Pillow Of Winds." I like a good ending to a song, but here the fade out is appropriate; I imagine they are moving to the next town and continue to play the song forever. Before you get too relaxed, John Bonham hits you with the fattest beat of "When The Levee Breaks," and the band hits a swampy blues groove that rides steady for the remainder of the album. All great tunes.

Boy George's voice is so limber and clear, effortless in its delivery. That works for Culture Club, who keep the soundscape pure without distortion. The bounce of "Karma Chameleon" has almost a reggae feel; I hadn't noticed that before, and I hear it on some other tunes here too. Great tune. I liked this one since it first came out. I forgot about "It's a Miracle." Still jams. The next three songs show us Culture Club can handle R&B and samba just fine; indeed, "Black Money" could be at home on Bobby Brown's "Don't Be Cruel" album. We get back to dance pop with "Church Of The Poison Mind." I didn't realize "Miss Me Blind" was Culture Club. This album keeps surprising me! With a sweeping epic R&B ballad closing the album ("Victims"), Colour By Numbers vacillates between slow introspective R&B and upbeat, poppy dance club tunes about relationships. This album has more depth than I gleaned from the cover. Three slow jams back-to-back was a bit of a drag, although the individual songs were good. This may benefit from a different song sequence, or replacing a slow jam with a more upbeat one, but in all, Culture Club execute on both the jams and ballads.

The production on People's Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm is superior. The balance of highs, lows, right, left . . . it just sits right. The beat punches through. The samples highlight a broad range of influences and styles. The lyrics are refreshing. After the joke raps of the Fat Boys doing the twist or wiping out, or the Fresh Prince and DJ Jazzy Jeff providing various narratives where parents are unable to understand their spawn, and before gangsta rap became the equivalent of rap's punk rock in its rallying protest against the life imposed upon them by the authority, we have a happy medium with A Tribe Called Quest. Light-hearted, but intelligent. Creatively fun. "I ordered enchiladas and I ate 'em; Ali had the fruit punch." "I don't eat no ham n' eggs, 'cause they're high in cholesterol." Where else would you hear this? For all the freshness and surprises, the less-inspired tracks stick out like a sore thumb. They should have trimmed some of the 76 minutes down and just keep the best offerings. What's good is good; what's overly repetitive is just derivative of itself.

The sweet sound of The Temptations. They seem to get a bit grittier towards the begining of this album, but we still get some of the classic Temptations starting with "Love Is A Hurtin' Thing", and it remains mostly that classic relaxed love story for the remainder the album. Love the instrumentation.

If you write "Folsom Prison Blues", you gotta be willing to play it in Folsom Prison, at least if you have any credible grit. And we hear the unmistakable grit of Johnny Cash throughout this whole album. He goes straight into the belly of the beast and sings of watching a man die in Reno, doing cocaine and sleeping with his gun, pushing back against authority, pleading one's case to a judge, being hung for his sins, and wearing stripes and chains in jail. This crowd can relate, and they let him know.

My first thought when queuing this up was what it would sound like if Sixpence None The Richer covered "Kizza Me." Then I heard the songs. I'm impressed. There's a bit of a Velvet Underground repetitive-but-interesting drone going on (which ironically we see less on display in their VU cover of "Femme Fatale"), as well as some Bowie here, similar in vocal delivery and in trying to stay accessible while attempting new things in production, instrumentation, or chord and song structure. I even hear early Flaming Lips' guitar rockets à la "Five Stop Mother Superior Rain." This is not heavy Zeppelin 1978, nor full-on 70's psychedelia, but some sort of proper tea sippin' pseudo-glam. I love the "Nature Boy" cover as well; this and some other songs sort of fall apart timelessly while it's playing. There is something cinematic about much of the album, but more like a dramatic blockbuster movie performed live by your local amateur theatre company and local volunteer orchestra. The mid-tempo and slower songs are really the heart and soul of Third/Sister Lovers; the faster rockers aren't bad, but feel a little more pomp and fluff compared to the beautiful arrangements and performances that over-shadow them. The inability to label Third/Sister Lovers accurately is one of the things I love about it. As the album continues, it stays in and explores the world it creates. You don't know what's coming next, but it is always true to form, even though you can't quite find the form. It defines itself. This is truly a unique album. Big Star, I'm now a big fan.

I've heard some Anthrax in high school. Songs like "Now It's Dark" and the Public Enemy collab "Bring The Noise." I know they are part of the Big 4 (along with Metallica, Megadeath, and Slayer), but I haven't really gotten into them. An open minded listen isn't enough to change my opinion. Chug-a chug-a chug-a. Joey Belladonna does have a decent singing voice for metal, a cross between Iron Maiden, DIO, Motley Crue, and Bad Religion. The guitar riffs and solos are decent when not simply djenting along; the drumming is tight despite how difficult it is to keep up at such a fast pace for so long a time. It definitely takes talent and dedication to write and play these songs, and another sort of talent to convince your bandmates that these songs are worth the effort. Unlike the thrash of early Metallica records, I find the vocal and guitar melodies a bit weak; much of the guitar work appears to be complicated filler, without making a confident musical statement. Not my favorite genre. I can appreciate the talent required to play this, but a must-hear album before you die??? It feels like it was included on this list to fulfill some unsaid metal quota. I'd be curious to see--when this project is all said and done--which albums were eventually removed from the list. I know this one gets my vote.

I"ve been meaning to listen to more of Bowie's discography, and this project has plenty of recommendations of his to check out. This church of the latter-day Bowie starts off as a cleaner and more straight forward rock, musically at times like a Tom Waits and vocally at times like a jazzy middle-aged Talking Heads. But we finally start getting into the quality expected of Bowie three tracks into The Next Day with the "The Stars (Are Out Tonight)?" which sounds a bit like The Church, followed by "Love Is Lost" which musically parrots some more aggressive guitar-centric Cure. Bowie is getting his goth on! The spacey atmosphere continues on the beautiful ballad "Where Are We Now?" "If You Can See Me" shines as an example of what post-rock Bowie can be, while "I'd Rather Be High" and "How Does The Grass Grow" shows how straight rock pop can still have interesting chords and without falling back to generic sections, like the chorus of "(You Will) Set The World On Fire" or "Atomica". "You Feel So Lonely You Could Die" and "Heat" again proves Bowie is at his best when dramatic, slow, and epic. The three-song stretch from "Like A Rocket Man" through "I'll Take You There" harkens back to 50's barbershop and doo-wop, stripped of most of the distinguishable cliché characteristics and disguised as modern pop rock. There are some evocative lyrics on here; time has not aged his creativity. At 22 tracks, I felt that some of the fat could be trimmed. Upon re-listening, I find the fat is not a handful of particular songs, but hidden in sections within some songs. Maybe asking to combine the best of 5 songs into just 2 or 3 good songs is a bit picky, but the album would be stronger for it. But who am I to say? Bowie has quite a celebrated body of work that shows that he knows what he's doing. Still, with the fat trimmed and upon subsequent re-listens to get proper grounding, this album would only earn a 4 from me. As a whole the album finishes strong with a long string of good tunes, the best songs are instrumentally and structurally innovative, but they are not great. Regardless, I'm happy Bowie never stopped reaching for the stars.

Bob Dylan is another musician I wanted to explore more. Sure, I picked up his greatest hits volumes as a jump off point, but the deep cuts are always the hidden gems I seek to discover. Bringing It All Back Home has its share of notable hits, starting off the album with three in a row; not to overlook "Mr. Tamborine Man" which is quintessential Dylan (if all of Dylan were distilled into one song, it would be either this one or "Blowin' In The Wind"). Even the worst songs here are still pretty good, perhaps because you hear melody lines re-used in bits and peices from other songs of his.

A 2016 release from Leonard Cohen, self-proclaiming this album to be even darker? My curiosity is piqued. Damn, the first impression of the first track is akin to Vincent Price's monologue in "Thriller." There is a haunting graveyard zombie-ness, and just in time for a Halloween playlist! The earlier trappings of bad 80's drum programming on Cohen's previous works are no longer apparent and dated on this release. "Treaty" is a reverance to God, though remaining agnostic; a wanting and willingness to believe in something bigger but feeling the lack of any love in return. Reminiscent to Bill Fay, but where Fay chooses to believe by finding hidden glimpses of the divine truth in the world around. In "On the Level", Cohen sings "I turned my back on the Devil; turned my back on the angel too." I keep hearing themes of "leaving the game", being "broken", and a failure to "heal", along with uncertainty about the existence of a God, but a reluctance to rule out the possibly as well. Ending the album with a beatuiful string version of a "Treaty" reprise is a perfect way to restate and summarize the album's theme, giving proper closure to the album. My complaint of '80's Cohen has been being overly reliant on the synthesized and fake sounds. On You Want It Darker, the production uses a better music library and properly mixes in real instrumentation and choirs as well. I am happy he saw the error of his ways in previous productions, or at least ended up here in a better musical soundscape. Overall, this impacts quite a somber and reflective mood. It seems like a statement piece that is not inviting discussion, but is just stating his position plaintively and publicly for the record, for the record. I would need to be in a particular mood to give this repeated listens, but as a whole, it maintains a consistent, thought-provoking vibe.

I only have the Greatest Hits and Rumours, but have been meaning to follow up my interest in Fleetwood Mac with Tusk, so this is perfect. Though each member brings their own talents to the band, Stevie Nicks' contributions are always my favorite. Mostly a slow to mid-tempo album, Tusk is easy listening, but I don't feel we get close to the quality we have come to expect from Fleetwood Mac until the heartbreaking "Sara" comes on. "What Makes You Think You're The One" seems to be inspired by Bowie's chorus of "Changes" in instrumentation, phrasing, and chord structure of its verses. The harmonies were always a highlight of having three singers in the band, but I don't believe I've heard them more on display than on "That's All For Everyone." "Not That Funny" is not that good and trying too hard; it could have been left off the album. Lindsey Buckingham's best work on this album is "That's Enough For Me" which finally cranks the album tempo up to a fast skiffle, a late 12 tracks in. Though a consistently slower album, it does have this groove to it. I can see getting more out of it in future listenings but don't expect to ever fall in love with it. The title song took to some experimentation, and it would be nice if the album took a less safe approach in general, but at least the smooth ride is a nice one. As always, the musicianship and vocals are top-notch.

Wild, man! Outrageous! Unlistenable! You know when the band finishes a big number and holds out the last note, and every musician fills time simultaneously until the one final stinger all played together? This album is that long final note of chaos, but played the entire album length. I tried listening to Zorn around the time I was getting more into Mike Patton, both pushing the musical boundaries (especially Patton's solo work). I thought I just didn't understand Zorn at the time, or heard a few bad tracks. I honestly can hear some melodic music by skilled musicians hiding in here in parts of tracks like "Word For Bird" and "Enfant," but as a whole, it's too "everybody solo!" for there to be much cohesion. "Rejoicing" is a highlight here.

I expected to hate this album, and while I did not love it, it wasn't bad. The singer actually added more melody to the vocal line than what I was expecting, and there were some unique up-beat syncopations by the band, who were tight in a genre that is easy to be sloppy. I wouldn't put it on this particular list, so it loses a star, but the album is not bad for hardcore punk.

Not every band has a masterpiece, let alone more than one. Radiohead's first two albums developed their guitar rock style and sound. By their third album, OK Computer, they introduced electronica into their sound and changed the musical landscape of rock forevermore. The pendulum swung all of the way to the left. Their next two albums explored that electronica almost exclusively. Here on Hail To The Theif--their sixth studio album--the pendulum swings all of the way to the right and brings the guitar rock back to the front, keeping all that they learned from their experiments with electronica and bringing a more tempered approach to incorporating it. I only find a small handful of misses on this album. I love almost every song. "Backdrifts", "Go To Sleep", "Where I End And You Begin", the single "There, There", and "A Wolf At The Door" are easy to like on early listens, but "Sail To The Moon" and "Scatterbrain" took some listens before I truly embraced them; now I think they are some of the very best songs Radiohead has ever written. And the theme of "We Suck Young Blood" is one I see around me more and more as I age. It just so happens I'm catching up on some of my past missed reviews where I left off, and I happen to be on this album the day that Trump won his second term in 2024. This album was written in protest of the Bush administration ("W"), and it's very fitting and haunting to revisit this album today. This album will always be great, but hopefully the bleak viewpoint will one day be less relevant.

From the first notes of the Stan Getz's saxophone on opener "Desafinado", my mind wandered to a warm, cloudless beach day and feeling the effects of exactly two fruity cocktails. That relaxed hum of appreciating a moment while you're in it, attentive yet careless. I love a variety of what all fits under the big Jazz umbrella, but to me it's hard to go wrong once you add the Latin influence and percussion. I can listen to this all day, especially live. Stan's tone is the biggest draw here. He's not stuffing in tons of notes, but he breathes life into the saxophone. His delivery in tone, phrasing, and runs are smooth and loose. He'll drop out on occasion to allow the other instrumentation to shine a bit, but to me his absence is felt; each song's best moments are when Stan has the saxophone to his lips (though the guitar work on "Samba Triste" and "Samba De Uma Nota So" is particularly impressive).

Sometime in the hazy days of my twenties, I was somehow at a house party in the Old Fourth Ward where I didn't know anybody. Maybe I knew someone, but they left early?? I don't quite remember, but that's how things were in my twenties. Anyways, they had a DJ who was infatuated with M.I.A. and mostly just played her first album in its entirety and throwing in a song inbetween in an effort to be a "real" DJ and have an excuse to bring two turntables. After his set, I spoke with him and all he wanted to talk about was M.I.A. Years later, I heard "Paper Planes" on Album 88/WRAS 88.5 and loved it, but didn't know who it was until I heard it again while watching Slumdog Millionaire. I didn't waste time in picking up Kala. My wife (girlfriend at the time) saw the cover and thought it was some cheap basement BS and even laughed when "Bamboo Banga" first started, but we have since fallen in love with this album. The rhythmic yells and tongue rolls of children on "Birdflu" and the hanina-na-ninna-ninna, ha-na-ninna-na-ninna chanting on "Boyz" is so refreshingly unexpected in it's sophisticated synchopation, not to mention the complex rhythms and layers of drums in the hand drum ensemble (which came at a time when I was active in and studying West African hand-drumming from Guinea). Once the Bollywood samples on "Jimmy" and the Australian aboriginal children off-time rapping on "Mango Pickle Down River" kick in, we see Kala as a hip-hop interpretation of world music. It's a celebration of and collaboration with the variety of sounds that make up the global human experience. "Represent the World Town" indeed. For her part, M.I.A. plays with phrasing that wouldn't work in traditional rap, adding an extra bar or a couple beats, or singing a free-form version of the Pixies' "Where Is My Mind?" on "20 Dollar" which ignores the trappings of needing to stay on the beat. It still works; she knows what she's doing. It's a party, and everyone is invited.

The Renaissance feels and sounds both like the past and present. It has late 80's, early 90's feel and samples, with more sophisticated lyrics and chords for that time. It's not pushing the boundaries of what hip-hop can do for the future, but it has fine-tuned the genre into much of the best it has to offer. "You" isn't bad, but the rest of the album maintains a groove that is interrupted only by this slower track. "ManWomanBoogie" is my favorite here. This is an easy album to like.

I remember seeing someone in the high school band always wearing a Madness shirt. When I asked about it, they were adamant that "Our House" was good, but the band was bigger and better than that. Today, I will find out. Three tracks in, I'm happy to hear all of the real instruments involved. The 80's involved alot of synth (to great effect at times), but this sound is more organic, and they have a real horn section! I especially like the horn feature on "Mr. Speaker (Gets The Word)," and I can see the appeal to a high school band member whose instrument isn't often found in radio songs outside of ska. The jazzy intervals of the "Sunday Morning" riff sounds like what plays behind a Tom & Jerry cartoon when Tom's trying to sneak up to Jerry. "Our House" is the most accessible song on the album and was rightly chosen as the single. The skill in writing and composition is evident throughout the album, but with changing tempos and sections of musical escapism, it's hard to settle into a groove with the album. "Are You Coming (With Me)" is probably the other most accessible song, this time with a jazz lean. This was a fun listen, and I haven't heard anything else on this list quite like it. The best experimental bands try new things but package them in an accessible way. (This is what made the Beatles so good; their ability to blend more sophisticated musical ideas like time signature changes into short and catchy songs ("Here Comes The Sun" for example)). Madness is good, but they tip the scales too much towards experimental and away from accessibility.

I picked this one up when it came out. I never really got into rave culture, but this album seems to transcend much of the electronica at the time with an emphasis not only on beats and dancing but also in adding emotive, free time vocals, and songcraft. To be fair, I haven't heard much of the albums of Roni Size, BT, and the like, but Debut seems to have songs with a beginning, middle, and end, whereas the other electronica I heard from that time seems to be a groove with some variations of it as almost a reference track for DJs to build off of. The songs here are complete, and bring in jazz, electronica, free style, exoctica, and some impressive thumping beats. "Human Behaviour", "Big Time Sensuality," and "Come To Me" were the first songs that jumped out to me, but each track offers worthwhile indulgences in differing directions. Björk's vocal performance is outstanding--somewhat whimsical, bold, fun, confident, squeaking, growling--and the quality in production is worthy of her. The two work perfectly together to create a unique vision of the world. Debut opens the doors to what electronica can be.

From the very beginning, I am in love. The deep and round harmonies are warm as the African plains. Tight when necessary, this proverbial wisdom set to music still retains a loose whimsy that seems to harken back to the very roots of humankind. There is no need for a track-by-track individual review. Put on Ladysmith Black Mambazo and let them transport you to another world and time.

As a New Jersey native, Bruce Springsteen was proudly considered our real musician. Sure we had Naughty By Nature, My Chemical Romance, Jonas Brothres, and Bon Jovi, (and underground local heros like Chunky Pam and The Sly Caps,) but only The Boss and Sinatra were taken seriously. Still, I never really listened much beyond the radio hits. The every-day-man-singing-songs-about-the-working-class-but-never-had-a-job-outside-of-being-a-musician seemed inauthenticate, though the songs were good. Right off the bat, the album carries an Americana about it, funneled into a rock genre instead of the typical country stylings more often associated with songs reflecting the American life and the struggles therein. "Night" brings in a saxophone which adds a touch of a Billy Joel rock aspect to it, while Springsteen sings in a more operatic voice than to which I'm accustomed. I can't get past thinking that this album sounds much like Meatloaf meets Eddie and the Cruisers. Theatric, majestic, good ol' fashioned rock n' roll, but maybe a bit over the top and as formulaic and manufactured for a wide audience as a movie soundtrack. "Born to Run" is the big hit here, and it sits perfectly in line with the rest of the album, for better or worse. A good song, but they are all so equally good mid-tempo rock that nothing much stands out; the album is good but monochromatic, and could benefit from occasional changes in style, instrumentation, and/or approach. "Meeting Across the River" is an exception here, a slower song with piano instead of guitar. Lest you think this approach is too different, you can appreciate this same formula in the intro for "Jungeland," AND THEN jump into the same theatrical Meatloaf rock you've come to expect--nay, loathe--from Born To Run, and then--surprise--back to the slow piano song in an attempt to make an emotionally sweeping, epic tale. I like theatrical rock and the skillset is evident, but this is too over the top.

I have no preconceived notion going in; I've never heard Boards Of Canada nor any mention of them. Excited for this clean slate. It took about three tracks in before realizing this wasn't a grandiose instrumental intro; there may be some manipulated speech early on, but there is no singer. That's fine; who needs singers anyway? Generally, Music Has The Right To Children sounds a bit like instrumental Radiohead or Zero 7 with occasionally more optimism and samples. The sound palette is pretty uniform, making the album as a whole seem like one long piece with different movements. Beats are added more to the dreamy atmosphere as the album progresses. Half way through the album, I don't imagine the remainder of the album to have any surprises; Boards of Canada seem determined to ride this vibe for the full duration, and I don't hate it. But it would be nice if they had a few more tricks up their sleeves. "Aquarius" seems like the track that puts all the pieces together; it's got groove, funky bass, vocal samples, and warm pads. "Pete Standing Alone" demonstrates a more sophisticated drum track than typical on the rest of the album. "Open The Light" adds more melody than what is generally present by these chord-driven tracks. Once you accept the lull of the album, the latter quarter does mature from a crawl to a stroll, but there is never a run, let alone a sprint. Smooth sailing and safe landings. No turblance, and no surprises.

Pigeon-holing Iggy Pop into the punk rock category is an injustice to how far he can stretch. On Lust For Life, it seems that he's taken a bit of influence from The Rolling Stones, Lou Reed, and Jim Morrison, and I can hear a lot of The Strokes here too, in lyrical delivery, guitar tone, backbeat, and general New Yorker vibes. There are some topics that didn't age well ("Sixteen", "Turn Blue"), but melodies and delivery are still catchy and edgy. Life is not the only thing for which Iggy lusts. Though I was surprised at how much I liked the first Stooges album I heard, I guess I still thought of that as a one-off, because again I'm surprised at how much I enjoyed this album. No need to point out favorites; they all work together to make an enjoyable album that shows variation in approach while maintaining a bluesy dirty-rock theme.

I'm not aware of any Pulp songs. There's a definite Bowie/Lou Reed thing going on, and I'm here for it. Both statements surprise me considering the album was released in 1995. Different Class as a whole is grandiose and cinematic with a varying blend of a James Bond theme, Serge Gainsbourg, Arcade Fire, Franz Ferdinand, The Killers vibe going on; mysterious, sexy, and thumping. The mix here is great too; spacious with strings that are present but not piercing and a bass line that keeps the lower end moving without getting muddy. Everything if very clean; even the distorted guitars are just a mild distortion. If I had to be picky, I think a bit more fuzz could have blown the roof off of this place; but as it is, it is reaching for the moon and hitting the mark. "Bar Italia" would be a grand finale if every song wasn't shooting for an epic, larger-than-life . . . 'big-ness,' but I don't hate it. There are some quiet parts in some of the big songs, but--again, if I'm going to be really picky--it would be nice to have one slower, quieter song on here that doesn't erupt into a monster at some point. Happy to have found this one. I'm late to the party, but I can hear how this may have influenced other artists who came out a decade later. Amazing album, and mind-blowing that this was going on in 1995.

I know some of the N.E.R.D. singles and the Pharrell solo tunes, but I haven't heard a full album. This feels a bit like either Jamiroquai plus distorted guitars, or TV On The Radio plus jazz keys. Upbeat and catchy with groove and momentum, it's easy to enjoy and fun even if it stays a bit shallow and on the surface. The first half is musical junk food. You gorge on the confections and get a sugar rush, but ultimately, you realize the empty calories don't offer much real sustenance. The second half expands on the sound and direction and takes a bit more chances, though they are a bit too calculated and cautious to fully embrace much deviation from the formula. "Drill Sergeant", "Thrasher", and "Maybe" are highlights here.

"Blue Orchid" kicks off Get Behind Me Satan just as I would expect from The White Stripes, but "The Nurse" tells us early on that they have no issue breaking away from their normal guitar and drum approach, though they kick you in the head unexpectedly just to remind you where you're at. The country, front porch jam of "Little Ghost" has some timing surprises and a brief harmonic a capella moment. "White Moon" replaces the guitar with piano but loses none of the edge. The relaxed stream-of-conscious "As Ugly As I Seem" replaces the drums with what sounds like a shoebox while Jack White shows a clean precision on the acoustic guitar. "I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet)" adds gospel while Jack stretches his voice prefectly. I have White Blood Cells, and Get Behind Me Satan seems a natural progression of their sound and style. I assume they have a bigger budget by now, since they are bringing in more instruments and they are going beyond what two can reproduce live. The melodies and songwriting were always present, and they remain the main draw here too; musically, there are innovative ideas weaving in and out of the song structure. Both comfortably nostalgic and refreshingly new.

Tina's voice is on point: emotional, weary, and raspy. After leaving an abusive relationship, Tina sings of a yearning for love and respect but not trusting it fully, a theme that heart-breakingly resonates throughout the album. The hits I recall from this album are "What's Love Got To Do With It", "Private Dancer", and "Better Be Good To Me", but there are other notable songs here as well such as "I Can't Stand The Rain", "Steel Claw", and some well-performed renditions of cover songs. Stylistically, the album moves through a couple of genres (mostly pop, upbeat soft rock, and R&B) and yet remains cohesive as an album. Overall, the production is a compilation of 80's clichés; programmed drums, synthesized horns, warm pads, mildly distorted guitar chords and common arpeggios, and orchestral hits. These same songs and instrumental lines played more organically would hold up better with time. The sound is too dated to be classically timeless; you have to be willing to revisit the 80's when you put this one on. It makes me wonder how The Killers, MGMT, and Radiohead breathe so much life and emotion into their electronic productions, avoiding the pitfalls of feeling so robotic and distant. Tina delivers on the album, but the production generally doesn't rise to her greatness.

Another band (and guitarist in Mark Knopfler) that I've been told I need to give a close listen to . . . let it roll . . . I never knew I thought Dire Straits have a sound, but once "Down To The Waterline" kicked in, I immediately thought this sounds like them. I can see this playing during the opening credits of Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas, driving with purpose somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert. The groove changes to a dreamily rolling bassa nova/calypso on "Water Of Love". and "Setting Me Up" blends a little country rock into their stylings. They are not afraid of showing a varitey of interests. Mark Knopfler sings with an attitude and spoken/sung voice somewhere between Bob Dylan and Tom Petty. "Sultans Of Swing" is the hit here, and it fantastic, but there really isn't a bad tune on the album. Dire Straits seem to be at their most self-assured when settling into a tight groove and playing funk in a bluesy southern rock; I even hear some similarities to Bill Withers on "In The Gallery". As for me, I prefer the relaxed rolling breeze of "Water Of Love" and "Wild West End".

Q: Billy has 5 albums by The Cure. He just bought 2 more. What does Billy have? A: Depression. Billy has depression. I just bought the new Cure yesterday (Songs of a Lost World)! I love this band, or more precisely, Robert Smith. The Cure took a variety of forms before settling into the Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me era where they seem to remain though continually evolving within that incarnation. Seventeen Seconds and Faith sit between their early clean-guitar punk roots and their Satanic gloom and doom of Pornography, and in retrospect you can their past and also where they are heading. Bleak, stark, cold, haunting, and musically emotional in its lack of emotion, Seventeen Seconds may not be for everybody, and indeed it took me some time to get into it as well. Some tracks are less songs and more John Cage-like interludes between songs. I love many albums from The Cure from beginning to end; this is not one of them. "Play For Today", "In Your House", and the quintessential "A Forest" are the best tracks here. I feel like Seventeen Seconds and Faith are sibling albums, but maybe both could have been better if the best were taken from each and put into one album. This is quite a departure from their first album, and I think it was given alot of credit at the time for their branching out and creating a sound that was unique (and later further developed by others), but even better things are yet to come.

My parents are a bit old-fashioned. They grew up in late 50's/early 60's and had already moved beyond youthful confection like pop music long before Black Sabbath and Led Zepplin showed up on the scene and the Beatles became 'weird'. They didn't really play music around the house; we had our own radios in our rooms and MTV to hear the newest songs and some classic rock. Still, the few times we did hear 'their' music, it was mostly the Everly Brothers, Kenny Rogers, Tom Jones, Perry Como, Sinatra, and doo-wop. I still quite enjoy some doo-wop and some of those old sounds. Obviously, Back To Black is an homage to the old stylings of yesteryear, and it is expertly produced by Mark Ronson (who later produced local Atlanta "flower punk" heroes The Black Lips), and I'm here for it. I especially like the backing vocals on "Me & Mr. Jones." The sound is refreshingly retro but polished and clean. It is both dated and timeless. And Amy's voice! This is first I've really listened and focused on it. She is excellent on the trailing notes in her phrases where she is at ease staying on pitch though she's no longer putting my breath behind the note. There's a general warm 'round-ness' to her voice that seems effortlessly powerful. Ultimately, it's a bit too middle-of-the-road for me. The Beatles (early and 'weird' versions) could write songs without sitar and time changes but still have interesting chord progressions or phrasings that veer outside of the standard 4, 8, or 16 bars. A great performance on a well-produced album with good arrangments, but the songwriting at its core is cookie cutter. This album will eventually be forgotten, but it was a great flash in the pan for a moment.

I don't know much of The Stone Roses, but "Burning Wheel" is reminiscent of what I think of when I think of this song. I hear some Brian Jonestown Massacre too. A slow, atmospheric build into jangly, spacey brit-pop. But lest one mistake the lead track to be indicative of the rest of the album, the second track "Get Duffy" moves towards psychedelic elevator music that you'd hear (or at least imagine you hear) at Kmart at 2AM. And then "Kowalski" is more of a 70's cop theme experimental dreamscape with sampled words overlaid on top. "Star" is the first 'traditional' song, with a relaxed, hazy feel that evolves into clunky percussion. At this point, I don't know what else to expect; Primal Scream seems willing and able to do anything. Blending beats, thick 70's bass, hypnotic synths, samples, wah pedals, and layered with plenty of effects, Primal Scream apply their sound and time equally to groovy freak-outs, instrumental pieces, and song-writing. Much like Pink Floyd's "Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving With a Pict", the psychedelia is turned up to 11, and could benefit from toning it down just a bit. It's similar to Skrillex in throwing in various sounds and effects every second when spacing them out to maybe even 5 seconds would make the music less of an assault on your attention. (Though Skrillex applies this technique in a more frantic meth-friendly direction, Primal Scream applies it in a contemplative, acid-induced environment.) Though "Star" is the best song here, "Stuka" and "Trainspotting" stand out as the best groovy space-out beats. I like that they make equal room for songs and beats; it's not predominantly either type of album, and is refreshing in that aspect. Still, not all tracks find their footing.

Sparse and skeletal, this post-modern first album by FKA Twigs reminds me of a female James Blake. Both attempt to thin out their songs and strip them down to their most essential elements. Chords and accompaniment are implied, sometimes to the point of non-existence. It's a 'musical' movement, but one that doesn't seem to have reached its proper balance, weighing too much on the gossamer end. "Closer" is my favorite here, as it seems like it has the proper balance of slim but not lacking. The sound is filled out a bit more and has elements of Sigur Rós' ethereal width and space. As a whole, the album is a bit too minimalist for me.

I have The Cars' Complete Greatest Hits, a double album that should have been stripped down to a single album. Still, there are plenty of great tunes on it, including my very favorite of theirs, "Drive." I always think of the Cars as ushering in a new 80's sound, where keyboards were added to guitar rock. I'm impressed that this debut album was released in 1978; they were ahead of the curve. The first three songs were worthy of their release as singles, starting off the album with a grounded understanding of what they are going for. I've always loved the guitar picking on "My Best Friend's Girl", a precise technical feat that sneaks into a tight propulsion of a pop song. We see the keys move from background ambiance to sharing center stage in "Just What I Needed," where they feature their own lead melody line. Kooky psychedelia is added to the Talking Heads vibe of "I'm In Touch With Your World," and "Don't Cha Stop" has the frantic energy of Sparks, though with less shifting of gears. "You're All I've Got Tonight" and "Moving In Stereo" are other hits, the latter really exemplifying their use of synths in catchy guitar rock. "Bye Bye Love" is a softer but no less up-tempo rocker. The Cars create a post-punk, pre-new wave sound that was pioneering in its day and remains unique to this day. Noone else sounds like them, especially in 1978. What the hell, here's a 5.

I have every album by Queen. As a band of songwriter's, they are amongst the very best of all time. Freddy Mercury's voice moves me in way that even other favorite singers cannot, singing such sensitively intimate and personal lyrics with such unabashed bravado and commitment. And as a frontman? NONE better. Although Queen are amongst the top echelon of my favorite bands, they have some of the best best songs but also the very worst bad songs. Each member contributed to their songwriting output, and some seem to have fallen for the idea that hard rock and metal was supposed to be about dragons and monsters and other such fantasy. It can get a little cheesy, but this openness to explore ideas is ultimately what made their songwriting so amazing. As for the albums, it's hard to find one that perfect from beginning to end. "Hey guys, I just want to jam a bit by myself--like I do when I warm up--in the middle of 'Brighton Rock,' ok?" "Sure, Brian! As long as I can sing 'Now I'm Here, Now I'm There' and pan it all over the place to mess with people's heads on 'Now I'm Here'." "Brilliant!" "Killer Queen", "Stone Cold Crazy", and "Bring Back That Leroy Brown" encapsulate the styles and sophistication that will go on to become Queen's identity, though each song on Sheer Heart Attack has something memorable and unique about it. There seems to have been an effort to have a first side focused on hard rock while the second is more relaxed, trying different styles, arrangements, and some slower songs. "In the Lap of the Gods" is epic, and they deliver on it. Good album. "An invitation you can't decline."

Especially on many of the newer albums on this list, I have to remind myself to keep an open mind and to discard any preconceived notions. I mean, I only know one song from Lorde (which I like, but can't assume that speaks for all of her work), and it's not even on this album. The production is great. "Green Light" opens with bite, beginning with more common arrangement until expanding its sound in more modern directions by the second verse. It's a nice evolution in one song, and we stay with the modern, programmed approach onwards, though "The Louvre" does bring in some guitar work. Lorde's voice is able to stretch a bit. She's not at the Celine Dion diva level, but she works well with what she has. I feel many of these songs can be replaced with Taylor Swift, who has adopted a similar style in arrangement, production, songwriting, and even singing since leaving country music. She's gone, Country. I'm not sure what that says about Taylor Swift or Lorde, but it's interesting that such a similar approach results in one being a billionaire and the other . . . I'm not even sure what Lorde is doing. We put our feet back on the ground with "Liability," a slow piano ballad showcasing a more tender side and approach. My only complaint is the "In The Air Tonight" drum fill sample in what I assume is the Loveless section of "Hard Feelings/Loveless." In the original, it is a feature, weighted with the importance of finally kicking in the beat on a slow burning spacial song. For Lorde, it's just another cheap drum fill. Some things are sacred!!!! I can't get over the Taylor Swift comparisons. The occasional breathy-ness, squeakiness, distant reverb scream, pitch lift at the end of note . . . so many shared vocal techniques. This is good modern pop and well produced and performed, but it's not exactly innovative or ground breaking songwriting.

If I dig deep enough into bands that influenced my favorite bands, I often come across the name Soft Machine. I have previously put on some of the tracks I found online, but nothing entirely grabbed me. Third appears to go into more of jazz direction than what I remember about them. After a slow experimental mood builder, we finally get glimpses of melodies and progressions about 6 minutes into the opening track. This approach demands alot of attention and buy-in from first-time listeners; as such, faith that the album would be any good almost relies solely on the quality of previous work and their reputation, which assumes someone is aware of that. In the end, endurance pays off. "Slightly All The Time" is more focused in execution, maintaining the jazz approach and changing the feel throughout the composition in order to stay interesting. It would sound more improvised if not for the doubling of the saxophone and flute lines; they are intentional and rehearsed, although they feel freeform since they don't really create and return to a musical theme. Usually the lack of a musical theme on instrumental pieces feels too sprawling, but there's an intelligence in the movements that keeps my interest. It changes often enough to explore different moods, but not too much to be frantic and aimless. "Moon in June" is the first time we hear a vocal: thin, pinched, soft, and vulnerable, and not unlike a more tentative Jerry Garcia. We also feature the guitar and organ more predominantly than on the previous songs. This one did feel sprawling to me. With a name like "Out-Bloody-Rageous" and with the crazy stuff they already threw at me, one would expect this track to be mind-blowing. Another sprawler. I bet this album would be great to see live, to be amongst the mass-hypnotized in that moment, collectively experiencing the weird together. And if it was recorded as a testament to and a document of the live experience, so be it. But there's really only one track that I would play at the house; though ambitious and obviously skilled, as an album, Third is generally too unfocused to keep me coming back for more.

Another review that was lost somehow . . . Generally, I try to listen to the albums in this project outside of persona or time. Don't know Bowie sang this one wearing a dress? Fine; a good song holds up anyway. With Hendrix--like Prince--the whole of their being is tied into the music they make. Lyrically, instrumentally, even fashionably, Jimi (and Prince) exudes his musical mastery in his very essence. His walk, talk, and life is authentically him; there is no stage persona. There is no man behind the curtain; there is no curtain, and no man. He is powerful, relaxed, intense, calm, all at once, all of the time. And his playing comes through him, so in tune with his instrument that you get a direct connection from his muse to your ears; so embedded is he in his musical expression that you'd almost think he wasn't even there, if not for the fact that his very body is further emanating and resonating with the sound too. Lyrically, he is also descending from the gods to the Earth to give us a glimpse of the cosmos. Not every song is a hit, but every song is him, and they each offer a glimpse of his greatness. You get the feeling that if no one was listening, it would still be as great. This is not for an audience, this is for an expression of self, for the Jimi Hendrix Experience. We're just lucky enough to look in.

The musicianship on display throughout this album is outstanding, and I'm happy to hear an enthusiastic crowd roaring with applause after the songs, while quiet and attentive during them. Jazz is meant to be experienced live, to feed off each other's energy. This gets a little too big band-ish for me at times, but overall it's a skillful record of the immediate moment.

I like what Jack White does, but I don't know much of his stuff. It's catchy, hook-based, and he knows what he's doing. It's easy to let in, and easy to let go. I've always enjoyed what I heard, but nothing made me feel that I need to give his work a deeper listen, or give it tons of time to let it soak in. It's immediate pleasure in the moment; I bet it's perfect live. My favorites here are in the latter half of the album: "Weep Themselves To Sleep" for its staccato phrasing, piano lead, and interesting arrangement and production; “Hip (Eponymous) Poor Boy” for its unconventional rhythm and meter, in which I can hear some Queen pastiche à la "Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon"; "On And On And On" has a Beatleseque harmonies; and "Take Me With You When You Go" again has great rhythmic interplay and shifts gears a few times to reinterpret its musical themes.

Fred Neil is kind of like experimental country and western. Washed out tremelo guitars and philosophical lyrics sung in a clean, deep Johnny Cash/Elvis tone expressed in the manner of Willie Nelson. Relaxed, easy listening. I know the more rolling and uptempo "Everybody's Talkin'" from Midnight Cowboy. Suddenly, I reinterpret this sound from sitting in a plush recliner in my grandfather's burgundy velvet living room to sunny-but-cool days in a more innocent New York cityscape. "Sweet Cocaine" maintains this latter vibe, hinting at a less-whiny Randy Newman tongue-in-cheek (spoon-in-nose?) movie soundtrack single. Not bad, but not great.

I first heard of T. Rex as one of the groups that Guns N' Roses covered on their "The Spaghetti Incident?" album of covers. Soley based on that cover, I wrote them off as some early glam club act from LA. I'm happy to hear now--all of these years later--that I was wrong. This is more like experimental pop psychedelic folk. In other hands, "Jeepster" would be a back porch country song but through the lens of T. Rex, it is a bit more bar room loose and sonically could fit on the Rocky Horror Soundtrack. We stay in the Rocky Horror style in the arrangement of oohs and ahhs of the backing vocals on "Monolith." And now I better understand the type of glam they introduced; this isn't Poison or Cinderella, but more conceptually aligned with Bowie and the Velvet Underground. From a songwriting standpoint, they aren't breaking many rules or pushing many boundaries, but the sheer breadth of the styles they are incorporating (rock, country, blues) into their own sound displays an appreciation of musical roots while ushering them into a refreshed era of modern sonics. The album maintains an up tempo groove to keep the party going, but by the end of the album, all the allure is overplayed a bit too much.

I'm not a big fan of the blues, and this album perfectly exemplifies why. Having never heard a single track on here before, I knew the exact chord progressions and melodies on most of these songs. It's less like a style of music and more like a prescriptive set of predictable progressions. Some blues can break from the norm, and in those tunes the blues are transcended and beautified with respect to the genre and yet doing something unique with it. Not that Hard Again isn't without its merits. Muddy Waters and team put out a great energy, and can crank it up just as skillfully as strip it down. And vocally, Muddy is anything but muddy. Expressive, invigorated, horny, and present in the moment. And they are somehow able to avoid making these same progressions feel mundane song after song, even with the same instrumentation throughout. They have an unparalleled strut and groove. Favorite here is "I Can't Be Satisfied" since the chord progression is a bit different.

Even as a youth, I thought that The Human League didn't sound too human. Even beyond the drum machines and synths, something sounds robotic. It has its own merits, and it does set them a bit apart from sounding like others. Catchy, fun, upbeat, and at times cosmic ("Get Carter"), Dare! is a good album and likely influenced others in the dance-synth genre, but I don't find much innovation aside in the songs.

By the 2000s, many producers are getting just as much attention (or more) than the recording artists. Before then, there were just a handful of producers that were known by industry outsiders; Phil Spector was on the short list of known producers at the time. Indeed, this album has his name in the title, and the artists are listed in the notes but are forever canonized as Various Artists. Phil Spector's famous "Wall of Sound" is up front and center here, and it seems even more appropriate somehow in the context of Christmas music, both existing on the borderline of sacredness and commercialism. The expression of the youthful voices forever captured on this album reflect the holiday spirit of joy, whimsy, and optimism. Well-timed, 1001albumsgenerator.com! However, such timing may inflate one's rating; in the broader context, a Christmas album feels only appropriate maybe 2 1/2 months out of the year. Though the production and performances are top-notch, this album sits unplayed for most of the year.

With a name like Surf's Up, you'd expect more of the innocent "Surfin' USA" beach songs. But no! Refreshingly no! Although some of the topics are bit odd ("Take A Load Off Your Feet"), there is some great production, vocal performances, and songwriting ("Long Promised Road," "Disney Girls (1957)"), proving that The Beach Boys are more than just Brian Wilson, which was a relevation to me. I really just picked up Pet Sounds and thought, "This is as good as it's gonna get." And though it was great, I didn't know this other side of The Beach Boys. And even now finding out that they have 29 studio albums, I realize I really don't know much of anything about them. Now I see some of what my peers see in them. I feel I've just scratched the surface.

This is it: the album that introduced me to Fela Kuti! I was visiting a friend who was excited about this recent purchase on vinyl; he put it on immediately, and the vibe was transformative. I haven't heard anything like it. I have since made a Fela Kuti station on Pandora and just let it roll. I don't know any one particular song or album (aside from this one) over another, but the groove and energy is consistent and exciting. Such great musicianship and showmanship. Great to re-visit this today.

Just from the opener, I thought, "I'm going to need to own this album." Such a harken back to a yesteryear that never was, immediately nostalgic but unique. The remaining covers didn't change my mind. I never thought any version of "Unchained Melody" could rival the original, but here we are, equally painstakingly beautiful. There's a quality in Willie's voice that is aged, deliberate, and at ease, so every song he sings seems to impart a sense of learned wisdom. The arrangements here perfectly complement Willie's voice and create a timelessly classic and round sound. I can hear the analog here, despite me listening to this off of YouTube. I'll be picking this one up.

If you don't love Michael Jackson's Thriller album, you are desperately on a soapbox trying to push some agenda; or in his own words, "You just want to be startin' somethin'." A perfect infusion of pop, R&B, disco, and dance, with some metal guitar shredding and African-inspired chanting thrown in for good measure, all performed with pure excitement. They captured lightning in a bottle. A Greatest Hits album would need almost every track on Thriller to be complete. There's good reason that this album is still the best selling album worldwide. If I HAD to be critical, the synths can be a bit dated in their sound at times, especially when applied to the bass ("Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'"), but the resulting overall feel and groove more than make up for it. There are so many great songs and variations here, that it's hard to praise any one song over any other, but you'd be wrong to overlook "Human Nature"'s greatness in the shadow of the bigger hits.

I first got into Wilco with the release of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (four years after this release), but I quickly caught up on the back catalog of these 'alt.country' pioneers. Though Wilco's sound has evolved greatly with Yankee Hotel Foxtrot onwards, this recording (and subsequent Mermaid Avenue Volumes II and III) sit perfectly well with their 'Being There' sound of Americana; country without the twang, just as God intended. And what a great project this is! From my understanding: Woody Guthrie's daughter found all of these lyrics of her father's that were never put into songs. The famed folk singer from Oklahoma who penned "This Land Is Your Land" was a protest songwriter, his acoustic guitar brandishing a hand written message that "This Machine Kills Fascists" in the 1940's. The daughter contacted Billy Bragg, similarly a folk songwriter, political activist, and protest songwriter from England, believing he would be the perfect person to take her father's lyrics and add chords and melody to complete the songs. He needed a band, and called up Wilco who were part of the 'new country' for the alternative crowd at the time, and together Billy and Jeff Tweedy completed a series of songs using Woody Guthrie's lyrics in what would eventually become a three volume set, of which this is the first. Jeff also pulled in the distinct voice of Natalie Merchant for any songs that would benefit from a female touch; she sings lead on a handful of tunes throughout the series. The end result is an amazing collaboration of songwriting greats, breathing life into a dead legend's words with their own convictions which align with Woody's, generations ago. Though I entered this recording as a Wilco fan, in the end it was Billy Bragg's contributions and deep voice that really delivered the goods. "Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key", "Ingrid Bergman", and "Eisler On The Go" display a vocal approach that can be sentimental or haunting, and there were countless times I pulled out the guitar to play the humorous sing-a-long of "Walt Whitman's Niece". Jeff Tweedy got stuck with the nonsense lyrics of "Hoodoo Voodoo," but he really shines on "California Stars", "At My Window Sad And Lonely", "One By One", "Hesitating Beauty", and "The Unwelcome Guest." Wilco was one of the main reasons I went to Coachella 2004 (along with Radiohead, The Cure, Pixies, The Flaming Lips, Air, Death Cab for Cutie, Bright Eyes, Belle and Sebastian, and many others), and they were the only ones who dropped out due to Jeff's stomach problems which got him addicted to painkillers. When they toured the next album, I saw them at The Fabulous Fox Theatre with the same Coachella friend; and when they played "California Stars," he said, "This is the apology song for Coachella," and I felt it. On another note, I played an outdoor show in Midtown once, and during the last set, a small group of guys stumbled in. I spoke to them and found out that they were a bachelor party and could hear us from their hotel balcony, and they walked the streets trying to find us; we chatted a bit longer and then we went into the next song, which happened to be a cover of "Hesitating Beauty," a song about trying to win over a girl and convince her to marry him. It was pure luck of the moment, but I felt like the universe did me a solid in the eyes of that group. Anyways, many of these songs or lyrics continue to pop into my head over the years. There are occasional timing variations and interesting meters and arrangements, but the strength is really in the collective songwriting and each individual's performance, knowing when to pull out the full band, and when to keep it simple. This project creates, elongates, and captures a moment in American history, but ultimately the backstory is not even needed to appreciate the quality of solid musicianship on Mermaid Avenue.

Ah, the sound of Americana; country without the twang, just as God intended. I can hear some "Old Five And Dimers" influence in some early Billy Joel, "We Had It All" in much of Bill Fay, and "Willy the Wandering Gypsy and Me" in some Kenny Rogers, who also sings country without the twang, just as God intended. Waylon straddles country and southern soft rock, like a Bob Seger but leaning more towards country. With a more jangly guitar, I could even hear The Byrds doing "Omaha." Waylon's influence is evident across multiple genres.

I've only heard Nina Simone on compilation discs friends made me. I was impressed from the start. Those friends were more politically minded, and so the songs they introduced me to from her were in the same vein. They were great and poignant, but it's nice to her sing less pointed songs as well, such as the opener "I Love Your Lovin' Ways." Nina is a treasure, a reflection of the times, and a soulful character who shares her pain and joy through her music. She is a true artist. Many of her slower songs brings me back to the beautiful jazz that filled Dante's Down The Hatch all those years ago, collectively alive and suspended in a moment. New favorites here are "Lilac Wine" and "Break Down and Let It All Out" and "Wild is the Wind," while I knew and still love "Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair."

I know I'm supposed to love this, but I don't. Innovative? Yes. Great sound design? Yes. Too noisy to enjoy? Yes. For an album so dark, it is sure mixed very bright. "Piggy" is the best track on the first half of the disc, while there is a great run of tunes from "Eraser" until the end. "Hurt" is a masterpiece of cohesion in songwriting, sound design, and lyrical content. Ultimately, the noise is a bit much and while there are some great songs on here, the ones that aren't detract from this being a great album. At this point in my life, the themes are too heavy and depressing to enjoy, more encouraging of suicide than just wallowing in the sadness of consideration.

Classic country, with some faster songs showcasing honky-tonk done right and some even bordering on bluegrass. There are no attempts to push musical boundaries or to venture into experimental songwriting. This is so middle of the road, I'd say it actually defines the road; all other music veers to one side or another, but as far as song structure, chord choice and movement, and vocal harmonization, this exemplifies the standard. Merle Haggard didn't define the standards, but he makes no effort to stray from it at all. At all. Having said that, it's not bad; it's just predictable, easy-listening music for the masses. If no one kept to the standard, would there be any standard? Any litmus test needs to define its 7 by which to measure deviation. I do prefer the classic country to the post-Garth-Brooks, soft-rock-with-a-twang bastardization of the modern incarnation. This is an honorable mention in music, but I wouldn't give it more accolades than that. Middle of the road = middle of the star rating. A solid 3.

An infectious, melody-led, light-rock pop album sometimes akin to R.E.M., Bends-era Radiohead, or Big Star. Easy, standard, but oh so catchy.

Billy Joel's "An Innocent Man" was my very first real album, which I got in second grade. None of my friends were getting into music yet; perhaps it was the effect of sister, 6 years older and watching MTV all of the time. Getting Billy Joel albums became a go-to for birthdays and Christmas. He directly influenced how I understood songwriting, and even strayed from the verse-chorus-verse standard at times. Each album says "Words and Music by Billy Joel"; I just assumed that all musicians wrote all of their own music, and it is a conviction of mine still that the true artistry is in the songwriting and lyrics, even if we end up with singers like Bob Dylan or Daniel Johnston along the way. On top of it all, Billy can PLAY, AND he can SING. "The Stranger" was my second album of his, and being young and new to radio and media, I didn't know a single song on the album; yes, not even THAT one. My listening was pure and without the tinge of influence, including from my own young life; I didn't get the "let-me-take-your-virginity" references throughout "Only The Good Die Young," or the various warm and cold faces of love and relationships discussed in the title track, until an "A-ha!" moment a little late in my 20's. Growing up in New Jersey and traveling 3 hours to Waterbury, Connecticut to spend the holidays and summers with my Italian Aunts, Uncles, and cousins, I felt strong Italian ties of family and love; the stuff you only see nowadays in movies. God, I miss those people. If I could re-live any one moment of my life again, it would be to be in that house with those smells and those smiling people and all of that laughter; there was a welcome place and purpose for everybody. Anyways, The Stranger feels and sounds New England Italian to me. The photo on the back of the album of the band at an Italian restaurant coupled with "Scenes From An Italian Restaurant" likely influenced this connection, as did my cousins and family liking Billy Joel too. I even had (and still have) a Billy Joel wallet; right, jaw-glass? Vienna is one of all-time top favorite songs of his, with a scale and use of accidentals that I still don't understand, but they work. The first time I saw him live (in 2015), I surprisingly teared up when he played it, not expecting this deep cut in an otherwise "all hits" setlist. Other notable deep cuts on side two are the funky "Get It Right The First Time" and the gospel of "Everybody Has A Dream." Billy Joel has a catalog of great albums with great songs. The Stranger is among his very best.

License to Ill introduced the world to The Beastie Boys, while The Beastie Boys introduced rap to many of the rock kids and helped bring rap to a larger audience. Though primarily rap, you can hear metal and punk influences as well. A hedonistic favorite of drunken frat boys, License To Ill should not be defined by its wider audience. Def Jam helped add form and structure to rap, adding choruses, storylines, and instrumental breaks in a form that often was just a flow over a beat, à la Rapper's Paradise. Themes such as on "Girls" are dated and more narrow-minded than today's standards; even the Beastie Boys grew away from it. I convinced my dad to buy this album for me; not knowing anything about it, I believe it appealed to this Air Force veteran simply because it had a plane on the cover, even though the phrase EAT ME was hidden in reverse on the tail. I thought my album skipped jumping into "Hold It Now, Hit It", and I ruined the transition by trying to force the record to find the groove between songs, thereby creating a new one and fuzzing out the song for a full second. Years later when the CD came out, I found out that the tracklist is supposed to skip to "Hold It Now, Hit It" like that. I ruined a perfectly good LP. Oh well. Knowing many verses off this album was a secret handshake that paid dividends long after its release. Friends would pick one lonely Beastie to be, and we'd rap our parts in class, at recess, at bars, with roommates. Always seemed to be "Paul Revere" or "Posse In Effect." Got to shout out to the opening beat of "Rhymin & Stealin" going hard while they rapped from the viewpoint of modern pirates. The whole album is a fun party.

Jumping in unknowingly to this one. Wow, this opening track is simultaneously Carribean in the upbeat, mariachi in the horn arrangements, and African in the percussion and harmonies. "Pitche Mi" follows, a somber but jazzy song. Such range. I don't know what to expect; so many interesting surprises. The polyrhythms of "Taaw" remind me of patterns I've heard when studying West African Hand Drumming with masters from Guinea; the hypnotic pulse is unrelenting. "Badou" seems to put it all together: the polyrhythms, mariachi horns, Carribean feel, and jazz. This music is an adventure. I don't know what is being sung, but the music and intention comes across just fine.

The grooves on here are undeniable. Most of the better tracks wait for the second half of the album ("Big Poppa," "Respect"). The production is great and B.I.G. has great flow, but I don't hear why some consider him one of the greats.

Hmm. Synth-punk, maybe? A touch of a deserted lonesome highway in there. Maybe some Doors? Maybe some James Bond, undercover spy vibes? And that is just the first song! As the album progresses, I pick up a bit more of a Cars/Pixies/Death/Sparks amalgamation. Ultimately punk--maybe?--but more innovative in timing and rhythm, and leaning more into keyboards--and at times more bluesy--than what is typical of punk. Jean-Jacques Burnel is vocally similar to Glenn Danzig during the howls, and Frank Black during the the more talkative vocalizations, though he uses his instrument differently. "Peaches" has a Dead Milkmen vibe, and the closer "Down in the Sewer" has a beachy Munsters groove. I was not expecting this. I'm going to have to pick this one up.

I consider myself a Rush fan; I have almost every album, and they were my first concert (for "Roll The Bones," with Primus "Sailing the Seas of Cheese" opening). I can fully understand how people have a hard time acclimating to Geddy's voice, as I once did. Apparently, this was the make-it-or-break-it album; with mild success previously, they needed to pull out all of the stops or the record company was moving on. And so they release this epic. As a drummer, I was hooked on the brief but frantic tom playing in the opening Overture, as well as the interesting fills throughout the album. It does take many listens to really appreciate the Overture and how they expertly weaved in the musical themes that they would eventually further explore in the other movements. 2112 tells the tale of a corrupt galactic government "The Solar Federation" who rule under the Red Star and oppress the people through the doctrines of the Priests, and the young person who finds a guitar and re-discovers music and attempts to use it for revolution. This pure person hoping to free the people through music while brandishing himself from the oppressive establishment of the Red Star has become the emblem for Rush ever since. Unlike the cohesive storyline of the first side of the album, side two is just a collection of songs; they were a fun re-visit. "A Passage To Bangkok" remained on their setlist throughout the decades, a song about touring the world and seeking out the best drugs along the way ("our first stop is in Bogota, to check Colombian fields/the natives smile and pass along a sample of their yields"). "The Twilight Zone" is the bridge between the decent songs and the cheese that follows it; for a metal band at the time, they showed a bit too much heart. The remaining tunes are forgettable classic rock cliché, though well performed.

It took some time before I gave this full album a chance, but I'm glad I did. The chord progressions can take interesting turns. The build ups and break downs. The perfect mix in tonality of the synths, vocals, and guitars. Catchy, dancy, accessible, and still passionate. Vocals are melodic and rhythmic, and at times anthemic. Hot Fuss is moving, musically and emotionally, and it is instantly nostalgic. It is everything one would want from an electro-synth-dance-pop album. I hope my being terse is not taken for indifference. There is no way to point out a highlight song or three; this album is great from beginning to end. Put it on and let it play, again and again.

I've heard Yes listed amongst other bands that I like, and the snippets I've caught here and there were enjoyable; I'm interested to give a full album a listen. The trick with prog-rock is balancing the "prog" with listenability. Though typically technically impressive, it's not always enjoyable. To what side of the balance will Close To The Edge lean? The first 3 minutes are a bit scattered with some fun "aahs" unexpectedly jumping in, though things take a majestic turn around the 3 minute mark, and evolutions henceforth are more melodic and tangible, with an epic 3-over-2 section and closer on side 1. Vocal harmonies are on par with Queen's best. I wish the drummer did more; there is so much to explore and feel, and he follows along but may benefit from driving a bit. Prog is not known for minimalism. It does seem Yes is more driven by the keys; they are on display throughout the album, but more evidently forefront on Side 2's "And You And I", which totters between simple,scaled down arrangements and lush, wide sections to blow your mind. Thoroughly enjoyable song. The bassist and guitarist heard me and took offense, and they decided to step it up on the closer "Siberian Khatru." The keys are still busy, but they play a more supportive role. Again, the full range of volume, expansive or minimal arrangements, fast and slow tempos, uplifting or moody vibes, straight and odd times, are all thrown in and necessary for full exploration in this song as well. It may be more impactful to have a song that is just fast or just expansive; it would allow the simple and the complicated to both shine more and offer more variety. Great musicians, great melodies. Good album.

Oh god, yes. More please. This is more modern music I can get into. No sparse keyboard melody lines and dance-along drum machines. Actual singing and music and instrumentation and chords. AND a positive message. We get the best of modern fidelity with a nod to past stylings, all the while incorporating new sounds. There is a great amalgamation of this mix of past and present where some sampled instruments are programmed along with live instruments and loops. It is retro but new, but not in the sense of just arranging new songs to sound retro, like Anderson .Paak and Bruno Mars' great "Leave The Door Open", or Amy Winehouse's Back to Black album. This isn't new reaching backward, but old reaching forward. There is an authenticity here beyond just a cash-grab homage, steeped in bona fide genuineness and sincerity. There's also a bit of TV On The Radio here, but less bombastic and more groove and laid back, at times channeling Seal. A more lush and spiritual Lenny Kravitz, with some occasional Hendrix psychedelic guitar. Just listen how cinematic "Final Days" is! So happy to hear this stark contrast in relation to the direction that music has been going. It's not mind-blowing, but it is refreshing. I hope more young artists are inspired to continue to carry the torch.

Vocally somewhere between Tori Amos and Siouxsie Sioux, Annie Lennox delivers a calculated and loose performance on Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This). When progressive, it's interesting to hear synth music from the 80's whose goal is not to make you dance. There are plenty of songs here that are not dance songs although presented with dance instrumentation. However, most of these tracks are snoozers; the innovation lies not in the songwriting but the sounds they create with synth and voice. While each side starts strongly, the lack of variation creates an unnecessary drag and hum before the side completes. There is plenty of filler on here that is not too special. "Jennifer" is the widest, most actualized song here, stepping a bit into shoegaze. "This Is The House" has a fun Talking Heads vibe. And of course, the title track is the deserved single.

I love some Genesis, especially the post-Gabriel work. Yeah, I know this is supposed to be their best incarnation, but I find the Collins-led version more balances innovation in songwriting and ease of listening. However, this album should be considered on its own merit. There are plenty of good melodies on here, but there is also some sprawling ideas that seem unfocused. As a complete work--intended to be listened to/seen in one session--there is enough good music to hold one's meditative attention, if they choose to vibe with it. If not, it's too slow at times for those unwilling to explore their own minds with this as a soundtrack. I believe I will appreciate this more as I get more comfortable with it, so I'll round my 3.5 up to a 4.

As a result of this 1001 experiment/experience, I did purchase Big Star's Third/Sister Lovers album, and I still love it. Anytime one first checks out a group with a large discography, it's hard to know where to start and where to go next. I guess this is next. The opener is an interesting Zepplin-meets-glam-rock tune, but top-notch melody and chord sequences begin with the slower "The Ballad Of El Goodo." Like my preference for Smashing Pumpkins songs, I can appreciate Big Star's slower tunes much more than their faster rockers. It should be no surprise that I find "Thirteen" to be the best tracks on #1 Record, though I find the more upbeat songs on this collection (such as "In The Street" and "My Life Is Right") a bit more to my taste than those on Third/Sister Lovers.

Before hip-hop established the rut of topical clichés of guns, hoes, and drugs, the potential was limitless. Though the golden age of rap appears to have occurred in the mid-90's, before then the style was a bit more free-form. The chorus may just be a musical interlude, or there may not be any chorus at all in leiu of a steady flow of lyrics. Def Jam was introducing scream rap with samples of hard rock guitar, and the Fresh Prince made up goofy stories about Freddy Krueger and Mike Tyson. Tribe elevated the art form by adding jazz and multiple samples to the groove, and approached their rhyming in a conversational, laid-back style that Snoop Dog would take all of the way to the bank a few years later. And behind the scenes, Bob Power revolutionized mixing techniques that made him legendary in the music studio. This isn't a 'singles' album. Just put it on and let it play. I'll bump the 3.5 to a 4 for innovation and keeping things fresh and positive.

When this came out, I felt it was a boring show; it had none of the energy and antics of Pearl Jam's Unplugged, for instance. And when 6/14 songs are cover songs, it doesn't make for a great live show in the moment for fans who love your catalogue but don't hear their favorites in order to make room for songs they didn't want. But in time, that is exactly what I've grown to love about this album. Though there are countless great Unplugged performances available which capture a well-performed concert, Nirvana's Unplugged set feels like a new, complete album. Those 'unknown' songs and variations on familiar ones make this an essential album in their discography, going beyond a simple live performance. And what I found boring before is now relaxed and calming. And for all the punk rock ethos, the musicianship and Kurt's singing are executed perfectly. Though generally I find Nirvana to be overrated, this album evinces why they are mentioned in conversations about the greatest bands of all time.

When I think of Bob Dylan, I think of an acoustic folk player who occasionally plays with a full band. I was not expecting this opener "Love Sick" to have a reggae bounce while he did his best Tom Waits vocal overtop in a despondent tale of love and loss in the vein of Ween's "Buenos Tardes Amigo." Always an influencer, here we hear some of Bob's influences, such as Leonard Cohen. "Dirt Road Blues" has that unsurprisingly prescribed blues progression that has been done a thousand times before. Is it possible to copyright such a song? I'm so over it, but I don't blame Dylan directly; it's a standard, tired musical trope. He makes up for it in the more unique "Standing in the Doorway," summoning Captain Beefhart's vocals over a cozy Van Morrison astral-acoustic, three-drinks-in, warm-wooden-barroom atmosphere with all of the longing of "A Whiter Shade of Pale." Again, not what I expect from Bob Dylan, but welcome nonetheless. Sigh: "Million Miles." Another blues cliché, grinding down this worn-down road. The next two songs confirms the side-one formula of an interesting song followed by one of a blues progression. Side two opens on the right foot with "Not Dark Yet." And the following blues numbers "Cold Irons Bound" and "Can't Wait" are inspired, finally branching out of the standard 8 and 12 bar trappings on the first side. Blues done right. "Make You Feel My Love" along with "Love Sick" and "Standing in the Doorway" are my favorites here, each suspending a moment that feels comfortable and warm. The over-abundant blues progressions on the inbetween tracks bog down the album as whole, succumbing to formula rather than inspiration, as if this album was a just completing a contractual obligation. Bob Dylan is better than this.

As fate would have it, I put on Full Moon Fever this past weekend; I'm ready to dive into more Tom Petty! "Rockin' Around (WIth You)" would feel at home on Queen's Hot Space, or any Cars album, introducing an 80's that hasn't happened yet. "Breakdown" is iconic Heartbreakers in its swagger, guitar line, vocal harmonies, and, well, break down. Only in the 7th track do I feel as though I'm starting to hear similar grooves repeated. While maintaining their own consistent thread, we see the Heartbreakers provide a variety of styles and musical directions in their southern-tinged classic strut. "American Girl" is the deserved hit and highlight here. Not a bad debut, but it also doesn't provide a glimpse of the legend to come.

Adele is a true vocal talent. Most of her peers on the charts were manufactured acts with songs written by hit makers that pass the tunes to the next young beauty when artists "age out." With Adele, she sets her own standards of what she'll put out, what she'll wear, and who she'll work with. With such a rounded and powerful vocal delivery, she gets to call the shots, and thank goodness she chooses to write and co-write songs that have substance and feeling. Yes, 25 is aimed at FM pop radio but it has less bubble gum and more meat and potatoes. There is nothing very innovative and the production is very clean and pretty simple, but this is better than the mindless pop crap that continued to infest the mainstream in the 2010s. "Million Years Ago" gives us a bit of a flamenco bossa nova vibe borrowing the somberness of the M*A*S*H* theme song and chord progression; the album would benefit from a bit more experimentation and change in style like this. As it is, it's a bit one-note, or as the kids say in the 2020s, 'it's pretty mid.'

I got Kid A the week it came out; I was one of the many people eager to hear how the experimental guitar rockers were going to follow up the massively successful and deservedly lauded OK Computer. It was a bitter pill. The people I talked to were reluctant to call it bad and simply pushed the argument to "well, what do YOU think about it?" Luckily, by the time the week completed I found it more palatable if I started listening from "Optimistic" onwards, letting the whole album repeat and complete with "How To Disappear Completely" into "Treefingers." I suggested others do the same, and eventually became comfortable enough with the earlier tracks to appreciate it start to finish as Radiohead intended. At the time of Kid A's release, Radiohead were three albums deep, and they had proved that they understood songwriting, melody, atmosphere, and instrumentation, and they weren't afraid to experiment with textures, sounds, time signatures, and song structure. So when Kid A came out of left field by practically ditching all of the guitars (in a band with three guitar players), people were taken aback but gave it an honest consideration. If nothing else, it was created with intent; it was a statement. It's similar to how the Beatles' "She Loves You" and "Yesterday" crowd were exposed to "Tomorrow Never Knows" and "I Am The Walrus." Such songs reached a crowd that may have otherwise never gave it a fair listen; the band transformed itself and brought the people with them. When OK Computer came out, the Radiohead impersonators came out, and when Kid A threw a Hail Mary curve ball, new impersonators followed. Ultimately, the beauty in Kid A is the alienation and isolation of the modern world. The glut of sounds and the disorienting cacophony of life and technology; embracing it, criticizing it, self-aware, and yet in denial. "Look at me, don't look at me." It manifests these ideas physically as much as musically. If this were a first album, we'd never hear of this group again; it does require a buy-in that they know what they're doing and are making this music on purpose. Once you fully open yourself and let it in, you are transported to a manic-depressive world with nervous and uneasy highs and wallowing, disassociative lows. True art makes you feel something, and Kid A puts heavy feelings front and center, uncomfortably comforting.

Chomping at the bit right out of the gate with power pop punk rock n' roll. They bring the energy, and keep it up with the hit "One Way or Another." I never noticed how the bass line keeps a country bounce through the verse while the drummer makes the whole song seem faster by playing a backbeat. There are some interesting turns on this with a short drum feature, an entirely different bridge, and a coda that is another melody line entirely until going back to a variation of the chorus. "Picture This" has a lighter sound. Though not reggae, I can hear Jimmy Cliff's "You Can Get It If You Really Want", and though not rock, I can hear the Stone's "Beast of Burden" in the verse melody. This and the slower follow up of "Fade Away and Radiate" finds Debbie Harry somehow channeling the 60's vocal styling of the likes of the Ronettes and Barbara Mason; classic, yet modern and edgy. The drummer's kickfoot gets a workout on "I Know But I Don't Know." Maybe it's just me, but main riff feels like it should be in 7/8; missed opportunity! Oooh, but they took it with the 7/4 in "Heart of Glass." I appreciate this project for forcing me to listen closely to some songs I've heard before and to find things I've overlooked. I can imagine Morissey singing a version of "11:59." This album keeps me guessing; it keeps evolving and re-inventing itself but never feels out-of-place or foreign. "I'd didn't expect them to do that, but it makes sense." Who else was doing anything remotely similar in 1978? This is peerless.

Riding my bike home up the steep incline of Bayberry Street bridge proved too strenuous one particular day, so I hopped off and walked it uphill the rest of the way. In doing so, I noticed a cassette tape of Pink Floyd's The Wall on the side of the road and picked it up. It was in fine condition, albeit without a case. I grew up seeing all of the Wall-screaming, marching hammers, and pig-themed Pink Floyd shirts amongst the Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Metallica, and Mötley Crüe shirts on numerous cool teens at Six Flags (Great Adventure) or at the Burlington Mall, so I assumed that Pink Floyd were a metal act of sorts; you know, derived from Satan. That tape I found was mid-wind, so when I popped it in when I got home, I heard the Nazism of "Waiting For The Worms." This has hate and slurs and xenophobia, but also sounds like Beach Boys at times; why did so many people like this, and why isn't it heavier?? It must be Satan, and the alluringly smooth sounds of his trickery. It was also confusing to elementary-school me, and I didn't get it. I put Pink Floyd away until I was older, when I became the teen wearing the tee shirt at Six Flags (over Georgia, this time). I grew to really like Pink Floyd. Despite teen experimentation with the devil's lettuce on various weekends for months on end, it never 'took.' I never felt anything. I thought perhaps it didn't work on me. So when it finally hit me one night maybe 8 months later, my guard was completely down, and I was with a different group of friends than typical for these experimentations. Luckily, they gave me cozy chair and propped up my feet and played The Wall, and though I was very familiar with it, I finally UNDERSTOOD it, and it was amazing. And I munched on some Bugles. There's more, but this ain't the time nor place. Anyways . . . I've since became a huge Pink Floyd fan, and I find value in all of it: the Syd Barret era, the pre-Dark Side of the Moon era, the Waters-led era, and the post-Waters era. Concerning The Wall specifically, I felt that I could write a paper on all of the symbolism and musical themes present on The Wall. How each complication in life is a brick that builds a wall to shelter us and ultimately isolates us; how the main bricks are the loss at a young age of his father due to the war, his well-intentioned but over-protective mother not preparing our hero for the larger world, his cheating wife, his detachment from real love with subsequent girlfriends, and the oppression of creativity through mockery, derision, and embarrasement in instituional education; how that "we don't need no education" musical theme repeats throughout the album over different songs, musically suggesting more complications and bricks piling up than explicity stated; how that wall is built up slowly and finally completed by the first half of the album, and the second half is the attempt to balance the weight of the outside world against the strength of this wall and ultimately failing, and failing publically. And visually: the mother's brick wall arms folded in front of her body, keeping conditional love and comfort at bay; the girlfriend portrayed as a praying mantis (notorious for eating their mate); the teacher presented as a puppet, who's controlling wife is pulling the strings and affecting the school children through him, the judge who is a literal asshole. I saw an article once where someone ranked every Pink Floyd song. Most of the songs of The Wall were at the bottom, arguing that, out-of-context, there are many short segue songs that don't have a traditional verse-chorus-verse. There's a point to be made, but I think such little ditties as Vera Lynn or Bring the Boys Back Home are still complete without need of a traditional song structure. In time, I've even grown to love the crazy chords of "Don't Leave Me Now." So much great music and musicianship on this album, and such a complete and total vision of a storyline. I typed enough; no need to go song-for song. Individually and as a whole, these songs are some of their best. This is music as theatre, as pure art. Roger Waters has created many such conceptual works both with and without Pink Floyd, but The Wall feels the most developed and inspired of them all. In the world of concept albums, I can think of none as great and ambitious as this.

Always rooting for the underdog, I chose George as my favorite Beatle in high school, as he seemed underappreciated and needed his deserved flowers too. But as I fully delved into the whole of the Beatles discography, b-sides, demos, and deep cuts, John's genius became undeniable, a giant amongst giants. It wasn't a choice; I was forced to love Lennon. Though I have the Lennon box set of demos, a greatest hits, and even an acoustic demo of John's solo stuff, I never purchased or listened to a proper Lennon solo album. It's been on my radar, but I purposefully slow-roll the listening to prolong the magic; there is only a finite amount of material after all, and I'm almost out. I was going to start with Double Fantasy, but I guess I'll go with Imagine. I love the warm sounds of the album. It's not just the analog or the production of it, but the complex chords and the voicings that really fill the frequencies well. I love the loose playing with time in "How?" and "I Don't Want To Be A Soldier, Mama." "Jealous Guy" was originally "Child of Nature" (with different lyrics) that was going to be on The White Album. It was determined to be too similar in theme to Paul's "Mother Nature's Son," both of which were based on the same lecture by the Maharishi during their time in India. I prefer the existential nature of the original lyrics, but "Jealous Guy" is still a great song; same amazing melody and progression. "Crippled Inside" sounds more like the 'granny shit' that John complained that Paul wrote at times. Still, songs like this and "It's So Hard" remind us of the older songs he grew up on that the early Beatles idolized and replicated. For all the Yoko love and "brotherhood of man" on the album, John chooses to end the album on a snide note with the rebellious "Gimme Some Truth" and the scathing "How Do You Sleep?" What an album! Peace, Love, Imagine . . . and fuck you, Paul.

To many, this is the pinnacle Rush album, and the opener "Tom Sawyer" is the peak Rush song. I would argue that the best era of Rush began on the previous album (Permanent Waves) which audibly shifts from their 70's sound to their 80's sound right before your ears; it is the perfect transition album. It is what prepared the fans for Moving Pictures and made them more willing to greet it with open arms. YYZ is the first Rush song I heard (and its cover is the first Primus song I heard, and Primus opening for Rush is the first concert I attended, and Primus covering Rush's entire Farewall to Kings was the first concert I had tickets for that was postponed due to Covid, and the first post-Covid concert I attended; but I digress). As a 7th-grade drummer taking in the current '80s pop of MTV, it was an eye-opening experience when my sister's then-boyfriend (a high school drummer) showed me a VHS copy of "Exit . . . Stage Left," specifically Rush's performance of YYZ which broke midway into a masterful drum solo by Neil Peart before returning back to the song. "And it's Morse code, man!" Odd timing, drum solo, Morse code (and no singing) . . . my head exploded. I've been a Rush fan since, and this 'underground' band that wasn't on MTV began a lifelong obsession with finding groups that were ignored by the mainstream. Rush is often thought of as a musician's band. The musicianship is excellent, but I can understand that their melodies and experimentation in songwriting is not often easily accessible. Aside from all the odd times and "look at me" showmanship, "Limelight" holds up as a great balance of musicality and accessibility, and it captures the sentimentality for the longing of the stage and the unexpected isolation that can occur in such a public space. "Red Barchetta" feels comforting to me, a nostalgic fast drive in the country, man and machine. "The Camera Eye" took a lot of time for me, but it has become one of my favorites on this album, particularly the groovy 6/4, 5/4, 6/4, 6/4 of the verse. Hahaha. I specifically recall thinking that "Witch Hunt (Part III of 'Fear')" was the most Satanic thing I've heard up to that point. It too has grown on me; the spit and venom in the lyrics. "Vital Signs" is a left turn for Rush. I haven't really heard them do anything like it before or since, which is a shame. That synth-reggae, Edie Brickell-bohemian bounce in the chorus is infectious, and they do it well. This album showcases my biggest concern with this 1001 album-a-day project: some of the greatest albums are not fully appreciated on a first listen. They challenge the listener to think and feel in different ways. They need time and attention to bloom in your mind. Listening back again after years of putting down my Rush albums, I am reminded again how great their work is.

With a name like The Sonics and an album released in 1965, I expected lush, spacious atmospheres of sound that would usher in Revolver and Pet Sounds. Here Are the Sonics is basically a raw recording of a garage band. I don't know their story. Did they meet in an orphanage and devote all their earnings to save homeless and starving children? Did they separate Pangea into separate continents? Did they teach Hendrix to play guitar, or introduce Elton John to Bernie Taupin? Whatever their value is in the annals of music, it can't be for the music itself. Regardless of my expectations and immediate letdown, I see no value in this album being in the 1001 Best Albums list. The album is mostly covers done more poorly than the versions you've come to know and love. This singer needs to add the moniker "Howlin'" in his name. He repeats this howl on the same note song after song, like a harmonica that had one really worn-in reed you can bend with enough breath in order to add character while the rest of the notes remain sterile. He's a one trick pony; his band bought Mick Jagger off Temu. Three songs in, I was ready to quit, but I wanted to honor this project and give it a respectful listen. I was never rewarded for this respect. Lather, rinse, repeat. All flash and little substance. The piano and horns were good, though.

A new one to me. Though not my preferred genre, Joe Ely does a good job bringing country to a more upbeat tempo and modern (at the time) stylings. "Cornbread Moon" has a jazzy bend to it and goes from a swing to a rock feel and back, while the organ smacks a bit reminiscent of watching professional games at the ballpark (Go Phillies!). Americana, eat your heart out. "Because Of The Wind" stands testament that Joe can write a middle-of-the-road country tune, even throwing in an "Amarillo" for good measure. "Boxcars" could have been a Johnny Cash tune. "Jericho" brings in some Mexican bordertown influences and seems to add a bit of Jimmy Buffet in the chorus. He reserves his crooning for "I'll Be You Fool." "I keep my fingernails long so they click when I play the piana" is an odd theme for a song, but ok, let's tell Ray Stevens to step up his game. I can't say that Joe Ely is an inspiration for Alan Jackson, but my ears hear a connection. Not my cup of tea, but quality soundwriting, singing, and musicianship.

I only know the two hits on this album, so I'm curious what else it has to offer. I'm always a fan of hearing what a trio can pull off, covering all of the sonic ranges with no extra fat makes everyone's playing vital. The titular song is a teaser, a build up that fades away without a payout. It was fun while it lasted. It's Alright For You is a punk-pop tune that I didn't know The Police had in them. Despite the album title, I haven't really heard any reggae until Bring Out The Night, four tracks in. We get that Bo Diddley/Footloose feel on Deathwish. On Any Day and Does Everyone Stare has a welcome change towards a Madness off-the-cuff playful looseness, the former leaning a bit towards the Dead Milkmen. I can get over how much these songs sound like 80's Rush with a different vocalist and musical approach: the busy bassist often playing lead melody and highlighted in the mid ranges, the tight drum heads and precision in drumming, the muted arpeggios and ringing guitar tone of '80's Alex Lifeson. Like U2, I prefer to listen to the Police without consideration of the lead singer's self-important persona; let the music speak for itself. I enjoyed this more than expected, but ultimately I feel their excelled skill was in their musicianship and less in their songwriting.

Legend has it that R.E.M. was conflicted when propositioned to leave IRS for Warner Bros; the latter said, "whatever IRS will pay you, we'll double it." IRS gave their blessing to leave the label, and made as big an offer as they possibly could to further help milk Warner Bros on the deal. In the end, everyone won: R.E.M. signed a great deal and exploded as THE biggest band in the world, IRS made good money on the back catalogue, and Warner Bros had a successful band in their catalogue. Green was born. It has many of my very favorite R.E.M. songs such as Get Up, Orange Crush, and Turn You Inside-Out, as well as hits Stand and Pop Song '89, which helps to remind me the year this album was released. My biggest complaint with R.E.M. in general is that most of their songs are just one repeated 4-chord progression, with Michael Stipe musing over various melodies and ideas. It's formless. This isn't bad on the occasion, but it becomes a bit one-note. Anyways, they probably strayed the most from that formula on Green, and the album shines as a result. Another fun anecdote concerning this album is for Get Up, which evinces Mike Mills as some of the best backing vocals in the business. He had overslept for the rehearsal of these Green sessions, and when he arrived, they had a new song, Get Up, and he jumped right in to do his part. Only when they were live on stage on the Green tour did Stipe introduce the song as being written about Mills oversleeping that day. Mills is in essence telling himself to get up! "Dreams, they complicate my life." I recall that if you caught the cover in the right reflection, you'd see a 4 over the R in both R.E.M. and Green, and in the track listing on the back, the fourth track had an R instead of a 4. Those quirky kids! This is essential R.E.M.

Ah, the Beach Boys! How can one group so perpetually capture sunshine and a youthful American innocence over the decades? Their music is an endless orange summer, tinged with nostalgia. Brian Wilson's writing of vocal harmonies is unparalleled, and the Boys follow his lead with perfect execution. Following Brian's passing last month, I put on Pet Sounds and Smile for my 9-year-old, and he approves. Still good! I imagine the theme in "I'm So Young" to continue rolling around Brian's head and evolving into Pet Sounds' "Wouldn't It Be Nice." The softest of soft rock, one may complain that it is lacking grit, rebellion, or testosterone. Ballz, even. I prefer to see the Beach Boys as an extension of Brian's gentle spirit and demeanor, and I say this with very little knowledge of their story or extensive catalogue. Still, it's my Beach Boys reality, and I'd prefer to imagine Brian's heart as clean and pure (like Daniel Johnston), regardless of whatever the actual truth is. I never heard this complete album, but it encapsulates a time that I never knew, when I imagine my parents were a young couple just starting out in life together. This music isn't my go-to style, but it does deserve representation on this list, and who better to represent it? No one. Not one.

My first listen to this well-regarded work by Bowie. "Watch That Man" kicks off Aladdin Sane with an easy piano rocker, a la Elton John. The titular track is beautifully fractured by the piano, playing slightly out of time, sometimes chaotic, sometimes jazzy. It does not prepare you for the safe landing into the doo-wop of Drive-in Saturday. The cock-rock of Cracked Actor and Let's Spend The Night Together isn't typically my cup of tea, but it evolves into an over-the-top Hedwig And The Angry Inch that is all showmanship and fabulous. Time is average until the change in the second half makes it epic; this one will grow on me--ahem--in time, I'm sure. Back to doo-wop for "The Prettiest Star," but it's so invitingly warm, pink, feathered, and fluffy. The Velvet Underground influence rears its head throughout the album, but never as obviously as on the distorted bluesy strut of The Jean Genie. Lady Grinning Soul is elegantly glamourous; I envision tuxedoed, tailed men serving me champagne in leaded crystal while I watch ladies perfoming a synchronized swimming routine to the song. Gatsby-esque. Overall, I think the piano work on the album takes center stage (instrumentally), knowing when to lead, when to support, when to make showy runs, when to play it safe. The brassiness of the cock-rock is over represented on the album, but there are some great compositions here. I appreciate an album that really strecthes it legs and takes us on journey, exploring various styles, production, and instrumentation. Another inspiring and inspired work by David Bowie.

I may be biased: Talking Heads is a band my wife turned me on to, and they are consistently groovin', infectious, stretching, innovating, and unique. They are similar to Fela Kuti in maintaining a groove and layering on sounds and ideas, but funneled through white New Yorkers in the art scene. The music is just the soundtrack to larger performance; they are a complete package live. That said, the music is engrossing enough to stand on its own. Listening Wind is the surprise here for me. A slower, moody lament that keeps a steady though minimalistic beat, similar to Collins-lead Genesis. The Overload closes the album in similar slowed, atmospheric musings, but this time more akin to Joy Division. For Remain in the Light, the album sure ends lurking in the dark. Ooh, my tracklist includes bonus tracks from the 2006 re-issue, which includes Fela's Riff; I guess I wasn't too far off with the Fela reference earlier.

The Band: their reputation proceeds them. I've heard of their work backing Bob Dylan, and of course their great song "The Weight." I've always meant to check out more them. Immediately, I'm struck by this soulful Procol Harum-meets-Van Morrison sound that is classic, self-actualized, and comforting in "Tears of Rage." "In A Station" adds some vocal harmonies and solidifies that they are at their best on the ballads. It introduces a sound similar to the more rootsy stylings of the Grateful Dead, which is further evinced with "Caledonia Mission." As tracks go on, I continue to hear snippets of Workingman's Dead, occasionally some WAR in the more groovy sections, and a touch of Jimmy Cliff in "I Shall Be Released." Quality musicianship, and warm, inviting songwriting. Comfort food