Rain Dogs was straight-up miserable to get through. I know Tom Waits has a cult following and people swear by this album, but honestly? I have no idea why. It sounds like a drunk pirate muttering nonsense over trash can percussion and broken accordions. The whole thing feels like it’s trying way too hard to be weird for the sake of being weird. There’s no flow, no real melody to hang onto — just a mess of clanking sounds and gravelly rambling that made me feel like I was losing my mind. I kept hoping it would turn a corner or give me something to latch onto, but it never happened. Every track just made me more annoyed that I was still listening.

Ray Charles is undeniably one of the greats, but The Genius of Ray Charles leans a little too hard into the Big Band sound for my taste. The arrangements feel a bit dated, and while his talent shines through, this earlier work doesn't quite hit the same as his later, more stripped-down stuff. It's got its moments, but overall, it’s not something I’d come back to often. More historical appreciation than personal enjoyment. Favorite song: Let The Good Times Roll

Kid A sounds like what would happen if a less talented version of The Beatles tried to make Sgt. Pepper’s and forgot to bring the songs. I gave it a listen as part of Apple Music’s 100 Greatest Albums countdown, and honestly, once was more than enough. After how great OK Computer was — wall-to-wall bangers — Kid A feels like a total drop-off. It's just aimless, glitchy noise wrapped in artsy vibes with zero payoff. Nothing stuck with me. In fact, when I saw it pop up again, it actually took me a minute to realize I had already listened to it before. That pretty much says it all — completely forgettable. There’s not a single track I’d go back to. They’re all equally bad in their own weird, lifeless way.

This is a solid throwback to late-'90s electro-funk with a heavy dose of retro flair. It's got a slick, polished sound that works well as background music—something you might put on while cleaning, working, or hosting people who don’t want anything too intense. There are definitely a few standouts. “Music Makes You Lose Control” is catchy and playful, “Sometimes” has a nice groove, and “Damaged People” adds a little emotion to the mix. “Disco II Disco” also has a fun energy that stands out from the rest. That said, I didn’t find myself wanting to come back to the album or add many of the songs to my regular playlist. It’s good, just not essential.

Prince is one of those artists where you can see the talent from a mile away. The guy could write, produce, perform, and probably fix your car while shredding a solo. But no matter how many times I try, his music just doesn’t click with me. 1999 has its moments. The title track is fun, and “Little Red Corvette” still holds up. But as a whole, it feels like something I respect more than actually enjoy Favorite song: 1999 Least favorite song: Automatic

Franz Ferdinand’s self-titled debut is a sharp, swaggering burst of post-punk revival energy that still sounds remarkably fresh. With taut guitar riffs, infectious hooks, and a danceable edge, the album delivers on its promise to make guitar rock fun again. The band’s art school sensibilities blend seamlessly with a raw, rhythmic urgency, giving the whole record a confident, stylish vibe. "Take Me Out" is the obvious standout — a perfectly structured anthem that shifts gears mid-song and never loses momentum. It’s bold, catchy, and brilliantly executed, the kind of track that defines an era. While not every song hits that same high, the album maintains a strong pace throughout, full of clever lyrics and tight arrangements. It’s not quite flawless, but as debut albums go, this one made a massive statement — and backed it up. Favorite Song: "Take Me Out"

At Folsom Prison is an iconic moment in music history, but as a listening experience, it’s a bit uneven. Johnny Cash’s raw charisma and outlaw spirit are on full display, and the live setting adds grit and authenticity. There’s a unique electricity in the air — the kind you only get when a man sings to a room full of inmates about crime, regret, and redemption. That said, not every track holds up musically, and the pacing can drag in spots. It’s more historically significant than consistently compelling. Still, when it hits, it really hits — "Cocaine Blues" steals the show with its speed, swagger, and gallows humor. Cash sounds completely in command, delivering it like a man who’s lived every word. A flawed but fascinating listen, and essential if you care about country, rebellion, or the blurred line between performer and prisoner. Favorite song: "Cocaine Blues"

Arrival finds ABBA at the height of their melodic powers, crafting polished pop with an almost mechanical precision. The album is packed with shimmering harmonies, lush arrangements, and that unmistakable Swedish pop sheen. But for all its craft, Arrival sometimes feels a little too clean — beautiful, but emotionally distant. "Dancing Queen" is the undeniable crown jewel — a perfect slice of pop euphoria that manages to be both regal and irresistibly fun. It’s the song that justifies the album’s place in pop history. The rest of the tracklist, while solid, doesn’t always reach the same heights. Some songs fade into the background, more technically impressive than emotionally gripping. It’s an album that shows ABBA’s brilliance, but also their limitations — a little too pristine to fully resonate from start to finish. Favorite song: "Dancing Queen"

Head Hunters is often hailed as a landmark fusion record, but for all its innovation, it’s not the most accessible or consistently engaging listen. Herbie Hancock blends funk, jazz, and electronic elements with clear technical brilliance, but at times the album feels more like a jam session than a cohesive work. The grooves are undeniably tight, yet they often stretch on too long, testing patience more than rewarding it. There’s no denying the influence of tracks like “Chameleon,” but unless you’re deeply into jazz-funk experimentation, the album can come off as self-indulgent and lacking in emotional pull. The musicianship is top-tier, but the vibe leans heavily cerebral — more appreciated in theory than enjoyed in practice. Respect for what it did, but not something I’ll be spinning often.

I Should Coco is a youthful, high-energy debut that captures the chaotic charm of mid-90s Britpop with a punky, mischievous edge. Supergrass sound like they’re having a blast, and that enthusiasm is infectious — at least for a while. The album is brash, fast-paced, and occasionally brilliant, but it also leans a bit too hard into its own cheekiness, making it feel more like a sugar rush than a fully satisfying meal. "Alright" is the standout — a perfect anthem for youthful rebellion, all swagger and sunshine, with just enough self-awareness to avoid being saccharine. It’s the track where everything clicks. Elsewhere, there’s a fair amount of noise and attitude, but not every song lands with the same confidence or staying power. Fun in bursts, but a bit uneven. A solid debut, but one that feels more like a snapshot of a moment than something timeless. Favorite song: Alright

Back in Black is a thunderous, no-frills rock ‘n’ roll masterpiece — a defiant return after tragedy and arguably the greatest comeback album of all time. AC/DC doesn’t reinvent the wheel here — they just tighten every bolt, crank the volume, and let it rip. Every riff is razor-sharp, every chorus built for shouting in unison. The title track, “Have a Drink on Me,” and “You Shook Me All Night Long” are classics in their own right, but “Shoot to Thrill” is the standout — pure adrenaline in musical form, with Brian Johnson at his most electrifying and Angus Young ripping through solos like he’s got lightning in his fingertips. This album doesn’t have a weak moment. It’s lean, mean, and still sounds massive decades later. Rock doesn’t get much better than this. Favorite song: Shoot To Thrill

Exile on Main St. is the Rolling Stones at their most ragged, raw, and relentlessly brilliant. It's a sprawling, sweaty dive into American roots music — rock, blues, gospel, country, and soul — filtered through the band’s drug-fueled haze in a French villa basement. It shouldn’t work, but it absolutely does. “Tumbling Dice” is the crown jewel — a slinky, swaggering groove wrapped in slurred vocals and gospel backing that somehow feels both effortless and essential. “Rocks Off” kicks the door down as the opener, chaotic and glorious, with Keith and Mick sounding like they’re on the edge of collapse and loving it. There’s no polish here — just grit, soul, and the sound of a band laying it all out, imperfections and all. It’s not just a great Stones album; it’s the kind of album that defines rock and roll. Favorite song: Tumbling Dice

Surrealistic Pillow is a psychedelic landmark — dreamy, defiant, and drenched in the swirling spirit of the late ’60s. Jefferson Airplane crafted an album that feels like stepping into another dimension, with Grace Slick’s voice cutting through the haze like a siren call. It’s equal parts rebellion and reverie. “Somebody to Love” is an absolute anthem, urgent and electrifying. “3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds” brings a burst of frantic energy that keeps the album from floating too far into the clouds. But “White Rabbit” is the masterstroke — a slow, hypnotic build that explodes into one of the most iconic climaxes in rock history. The crescendo is nothing short of phenomenal, wrapping Lewis Carroll in a velvet glove and punching through the counterculture with elegance and force. Fifty-plus years later, it still sounds revolutionary. Favorite song: White Rabbit

Yeezus is Kanye West at his most abrasive, experimental, and confrontational. It’s an album that tears down the glossy polish of his previous work and replaces it with industrial beats, jagged synths, and a near-total lack of compromise. There’s undeniable ambition here — and flashes of brilliance — but the chaos doesn’t always translate into something cohesive or replayable. Tracks like “Black Skinhead” hit hard, with pounding drums and snarling energy that feel genuinely explosive. It's the closest thing the album has to a “banger” in the traditional sense. “New Slaves” also stands out as one of the more compelling tracks, blending pointed social commentary with stark production. Still, Yeezus often feels more like a statement than an album you’d want to return to often. Bold? Absolutely. Enjoyable all the way through? Not quite. Favorite song: Black Skinhead

This is a solid throwback to late-'90s electro-funk with a heavy dose of retro flair. It's got a slick, polished sound that works well as background music—something you might put on while cleaning, working, or hosting people who don’t want anything too intense. There are definitely a few standouts. “Music Makes You Lose Control” is catchy and playful, “Sometimes” has a nice groove, and “Damaged People” adds a little emotion to the mix. “Disco II Disco” also has a fun energy that stands out from the rest. That said, I didn’t find myself wanting to come back to the album or add many of the songs to my regular playlist. It’s good, just not essential.

Foo Fighters’ debut album is raw, relentless, and brimming with the kind of energy only a fresh start can bring. Recorded almost entirely by Dave Grohl himself in the aftermath of Nirvana, it’s a project that feels both cathartic and full of purpose. There’s a looseness to it — unpolished but deeply focused — that gives it a unique charm in the band’s discography. Tracks like “This Is a Call,” “Big Me,” and “Alone + Easy Target” showcase Grohl’s knack for melody buried under layers of distortion, but “I’ll Stick Around” is the standout — aggressive, hooky, and pulsing with just enough venom to feel personal. It’s the sound of someone reclaiming their voice and turning the volume way up. As far as debut albums go, this one doesn't just promise a new chapter — it slams the door on the past and kicks open a new one with confidence. Favorite song: "Big Me"

Killing Joke’s self-titled debut is a jagged, aggressive blast of post-punk menace that helped lay the groundwork for industrial, metal, and countless bands that followed. It’s raw, dark, and brimming with urgency — a perfect mix of punk fury and mechanical precision. Tracks like “The Wait” and “SO36” hit hard with relentless rhythm and snarling vocals, while “Bloodsport” and “Primitive” showcase the band’s knack for combining chaos with groove. There’s a primal energy here that still feels fresh, and the fact that Metallica covered “The Wait” nearly two decades later? That’s not just a nod — it’s a badge of honor. It’s not the most polished album, but that’s part of the charm. It’s gritty, relentless, and fearless — a powerful debut that deserves its place in the post-punk hall of fame.

Sgt. Pepper’s isn’t just a landmark album — it’s a world unto itself. The Beatles fully embraced the studio as an instrument, crafting an immersive, kaleidoscopic journey that redefined what pop music could be. Every song offers something distinct, yet the album flows with a strange, theatrical cohesion that feels both whimsical and profound. While tracks like “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” “A Day in the Life,” and the title track often get the spotlight, “Within You Without You” is the quiet revelation — a meditative, mystical piece that transports the listener beyond the psychedelic circus into something deeper. It’s George Harrison at his most spiritual and daring, and it gives the album a philosophical depth that balances the playful experimentation elsewhere. From start to finish, Sgt. Pepper is rich, strange, and timeless — the kind of album that rewards both casual listening and deep dives. Favorite Beatles album, or just one of many in the rotation? Favorite song: "Within You, Without You"

This one caught me off guard. I had no clue what to expect going in. Never heard of the band, and the album cover felt like a random pick from a thrift store bin. But the opening track, “So Young,” hit hard right out of the gate. The guitar riff during the chorus is slick and oddly familiar. It grabbed my attention immediately. “Moving” was another solid track, and the whole album has a confident mix of glam rock flair and early Britpop edge. Brett Anderson’s voice is theatrical in a good way, and the band knows how to build up a song without dragging it out. It’s not one I would’ve stumbled across on my own, but I’m glad I heard it. Solid stuff all around.

Led Zeppelin II is a loud, confident, and endlessly fun rock album that hits hard from the first note. “Whole Lotta Love” kicks things off with one of the most iconic riffs in rock history — a perfect opener that sets the tone for what’s to come. The band wastes no time showing off their power, with heavy guitars, wild solos, and Robert Plant’s soaring vocals. Side two starts strong with “Heartbreaker,” a track that blends swagger with skill, and that sudden solo break never gets old. “Living Loving Maid” follows with a fast, catchy groove — short by Led Zeppelin standards, but packed with energy and attitude. Then there’s “Ramble On,” mixing soft verses with thunderous choruses, showing the band’s range and love for storytelling. Every song adds something special, and the whole album feels tight, bold, and full of life. *Led Zeppelin II* isn’t just great — it’s essential rock and roll. Favorite song: "Whole Lotta Love"

This is the musical equivalent of style over substance — all aesthetic, no soul. It tries desperately to be avant-garde, but ends up sounding like a pretentious mess of whispery vocals, awkward rhythms, and production that’s more interested in being “weird” than listenable. It’s as if someone took the concept of emotional depth, filtered it through a fog machine, and forgot to include an actual song. Tracks bleed into one another with little distinction, and while the album clearly wants to be groundbreaking, it often feels hollow and self-indulgent — like a fashion show with no models, just flashing lights and ambient noise. LP1 doesn’t invite you in; it keeps you at arm’s length and dares you to care. In the end, it’s less of a musical experience and more of an endurance test. If this is the future of R&B, it might be time to hit rewind.

Tribe really knows how to blend clever lyrics with smooth, head-nodding beats. Their writing always has that tongue-in-cheek edge to it, and the production here is clean, jazzy, and laid-back without ever feeling boring. I didn’t like this one quite as much as their debut, but it’s still a solid listen. Songs flow well, the vibe is tight, and the whole thing feels polished without losing its soul.

They’ve definitely got the harmony thing down. That sibling blend is tough to beat, and it’s on full display here. “Love Hurts” still holds up, and considering how many artists have taken a swing at it over the years, that says a lot. “Cathy’s Clown” is another highlight—catchy and classic. The rest of the album kind of blurs together, though. It’s pleasant, easy to listen to, but nothing really grabs you beyond the hits. Feels more like a time capsule than something I’d put on regularly. Still, you gotta respect what they brought to the table.

Imagine is John Lennon at his sharpest — tender, bitter, playful, and unapologetically honest. While the title track often gets all the attention, the real magic of the album lies in its depth and contrast. Lennon swings from vulnerable ballads to scathing takedowns with ease, crafting a record that feels deeply personal yet universally resonant. “Crippled Inside” stands out as the highlight — a wry, rollicking tune that pairs biting lyrics with a bouncy, almost country-folk arrangement. George Harrison’s slide guitar and dobro work throughout the album is nothing short of masterful, adding texture and emotional weight in all the right places. Tracks like “Jealous Guy,” “Gimme Some Truth,” and “How Do You Sleep?” showcase Lennon’s full range — from self-reflection to pointed rage — while “I Don’t Wanna Be a Soldier” drowns you in its hypnotic, anti-war groove. Imagine*isn’t just a peaceful plea — it’s an artist laying himself bare, flaws and all. And it still sounds just as vital today. Favorite song: "Crippled Inside"

Never Mind the Bollocks definitely has its moments. “God Save the Queen,” “Anarchy in the UK,” and “Problems” still sound pretty awesome—loud, messy, and full of attitude. I remember getting into early punk back in high school and putting “Anarchy” on one of the CD-Rs I burned. It felt rebellious at the time, like I was in on something wild. That said, the rest of the album doesn’t do a whole lot for me now. It’s more of a cool piece of music history than something I go back to.

Maybe it’s Bono. Maybe it’s me. Probably both. But U2 just doesn’t land for me, and this album didn’t change that. I went in hoping for at least one song to stand out, but nope—nothing stuck. It’s not even offensively bad, just painfully bland. The whole thing felt like background music for a car commercial. I get that people love them, but I must be missing that gene.

This album is a haunting, graceful farewell from Leonard Cohen — a man fully aware he’s near the end, yet still crafting poetry with clarity and weight. His voice, deep and gravelly like a whisper from the grave, gives the album a solemn power that’s impossible to ignore. Every word feels measured, every pause intentional. The title track, “You Want It Darker,” is the undeniable centerpiece — eerie, hypnotic, and laced with resignation and defiance. The arrangements throughout are sparse but rich, allowing Cohen’s voice and lyrics to stand at the forefront like an aging prophet speaking from the edge. It’s not an easy album, but it’s a beautiful one — full of reflection, acceptance, and that signature Cohen wit and wisdom. As parting gifts go, it’s hard to imagine a more fitting one. Did this album get you to revisit his earlier work, or was it your introduction to Cohen?

If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears is a near-perfect snapshot of 1960s sunshine pop at its peak — warm, melodic, and packed with lush harmonies that still hold up decades later. The Mamas & The Papas blend folk, pop, and soul with ease, delivering an album that feels effortless but is full of rich vocal interplay and polished production. “California Dreamin’” is the undeniable standout — a timeless anthem of longing and disillusionment, wrapped in a perfect arrangement that captures both the warmth of the West Coast and the chill of winter. It’s one of those rare songs that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant. Tracks like “Monday, Monday” and “I Call Your Name” show the group’s range, while their soulful cover of “Spanish Harlem” adds texture and depth to the tracklist. Every song is delivered with confidence and charm, making this not just a great debut, but one of the defining albums of its era. Golden harmonies, sharp songwriting, and undeniable vibe — this one’s the real deal. Favorite song: "California Dreamin."

Black Sabbath’s debut is a cool listen if you’re into the roots of metal, but it’s definitely a bit rough around the edges. The title track has that spooky intro everyone talks about, but it drags for me and has never really been a favorite. That said, “N.I.B.” and “The Wizard” still hold up—both have a great groove and show off what the band was about to become. You can tell they were onto something, even if the full album doesn’t totally land for me. Favorite song: NIB

One of the best parts of working through this list is stumbling across albums I never would've picked on my own. Curtis Mayfield was a name I knew, but I didn’t expect to enjoy this as much as I did. I’ve never been big into funk, but this album hits different. The grooves are smooth, the production is tight, and the lyrics actually say something. Curtis doesn't sugarcoat a thing—he gets straight to the heart of social issues, and a lot of what he’s singing about still hits hard today. He balances heavy themes with laid-back vibes in a way that makes it stick. Definitely one of the better surprises so far.

Harry Nilsson really knew how to make a weird little masterpiece. Gotta Get Up kicks things off with such infectious energy you can't help but get pulled in. It's upbeat, it's got bounce, and it sets the tone perfectly. Then there's Coconut, the kind of oddball track you think is a joke the first time you hear it, until it's stuck in your head for three days straight. Everyone knows it, even if they don't know where they know it from. The whole album is packed with charm and a sense of playfulness that makes it stand out. It isn't trying to be cool or profound. It's just good, clever songwriting with real personality. Nilsson was doing his own thing, and this album is a solid reminder of how much fun music can be when it leans into the weird instead of running from it.

Wish You Were Here is one of Pink Floyd’s most emotionally resonant albums — a reflective, atmospheric tribute to absence, loss, and the pitfalls of the music industry. It trades some of the grand concept sprawl of The Dark Side of the Moon for a tighter, more personal focus, and it pays off beautifully. “Wish You Were Here” is a standout — haunting in its simplicity, heartfelt without being sentimental. It’s one of the most enduring acoustic tracks in rock history, full of quiet yearning. “Have a Cigar,” on the other hand, brings swagger and satire, poking holes in the industry machine with biting lyrics and a funky, driving groove. While “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” bookends the album with grand ambition, it occasionally drifts a little too far into the ether. Still, when Wish You Were Here is locked in, it’s stunning — thoughtful, mournful, and musically rich. A near-masterpiece with a soul.

Unplugged is not just one of the greatest live albums ever recorded — it’s a raw, intimate portrait of a band stripped down to its emotional core. Recorded just months before Kurt Cobain’s death, the performance carries an eerie, fragile weight that only deepened with time. Unlike other Unplugged sessions, Nirvana didn’t lean on their biggest hits or crowd-pleasers — instead, they curated a somber, haunting setlist that felt more like a wake than a concert. Tracks like “Something in the Way,” “Dumb,” “Polly,” and “On a Plain” take on a new vulnerability in the acoustic setting, each note soaked in quiet desperation and quiet strength. Their cover of David Bowie’s “The Man Who Sold the World” is unforgettable — reverent yet completely reimagined, with Cobain’s voice hovering between detachment and revelation. But the true apex is the closing track, Lead Belly’s “Where Did You Sleep Last Night.” Cobain’s final, guttural scream is less a performance and more a primal exorcism — chilling, cathartic, and final. It’s the perfect, devastating end to a performance that feels more like a confessional than a concert. Unpolished, unguarded, and unforgettable — Unplugged isn’t just a career highlight. It’s a requiem.

Ten is a towering debut — raw, passionate, and bursting with emotional weight. Born from the ashes of Mother Love Bone and the tragic death of Andy Wood, Pearl Jam emerged with something to prove and everything to feel. Stone Gossard’s songwriting forms the backbone of the album, anchoring it with powerful riffs and deeply personal themes, while Eddie Vedder’s voice — wounded, searching, and full of conviction — gives it soul. Standout tracks like “Once,” “Alive,” and “Jeremy” showcase the band’s ability to balance fury with melody, tackling trauma, identity, and alienation without ever slipping into pretense. But “Black” is the true heart of the album — a devastating, beautiful slow burn that builds to one of the most emotionally resonant moments in all of rock. When Vedder delivers the line, “I know you'll be the sun in someone else's sky, but why can't it be mine?” it’s not just heartbreaking — it’s unforgettable. Ten is more than just a great grunge record; it’s a statement of survival, grief, and defiance. It’s the sound of a band coming together in the shadow of loss and turning pain into something transcendent. Still hits just as hard today. Favorite song: Black

Siamese Dream is a sprawling, explosive masterpiece that defined alt-rock in the ’90s. The Smashing Pumpkins mix fuzz-drenched guitars, soaring melodies, and emotional intensity into something both massive and deeply personal. It’s ambitious without being bloated — every track hits with purpose. “Cherub Rock” is a thunderous opener, full of tension and release. “Today” brings melody and melancholy together in perfect balance, while “Geek USA” is pure controlled chaos — fast, wild, and technically sharp. But “Silverfuck” is the real standout. It’s a rollercoaster of distortion, beauty, and fury, stretching past nine minutes and never wasting a second. It captures everything the Pumpkins do best: shifting dynamics, layered sounds, and raw emotion. From start to finish, Siamese Dream is powerful, melodic, and completely unforgettable. A true high point of '90s rock. Favorite song: Silverfuck

This is one of those rare albums that completely catches you off guard. I went in with low expectations and came out blown away by the storytelling, honesty, and clever wordplay. Mike Skinner, the mind behind The Streets, turns everyday life — lost money, broken TVs, failed relationships — into gripping drama. It’s part concept album, part confessional, and completely original. His use of a thick Cockney accent isn’t just for flavor — it becomes part of the rhythm, giving the rhymes a raw, grounded feel that makes every line hit harder. “It Was Supposed to Be So Easy” is the perfect opener: funny, frustrating, and totally relatable. It sets the tone for an album that’s as much about mood and pacing as it is about bars. This isn’t just British rap — it’s kitchen-sink poetry with beats. Smart, emotional, and totally unique. One of the best concept albums I’ve heard. Favorite Song: "It Was Supposed To Be So Easy"

This one might not be packed with radio hits, but it's still Queen doing what Queen does best. The theatrical flair, the layered harmonies, the ridiculous talent across the board—it’s all here. They weren’t playing it safe, and that’s what makes it interesting. You can hear the band really starting to experiment, especially on the second half. Brian May’s guitar work is as sharp as ever and Freddie’s vocals are already larger than life. It's not the kind of album you'd throw on for a greatest hits vibe, but it's a solid listen if you want to hear a band finding their sound. Not essential Queen, but still pretty good.

I’ve got a lot of respect for Mudhoney—they were one of the OG grunge bands and Superfuzz Big Muff still rips. But Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge just didn’t land for me. The raw energy is there, and I get what they were going for with the garage rock vibes, but the songs kind of blur together and not much really sticks. It just felt like a slog to get through, and I kept waiting for a moment that never really came. Glad they exist and helped shape the scene, but this album isn’t one I’ll be revisiting any time soon.

Bone Machine is what happens when an artist mistakes chaos for genius and noise for depth. Tom Waits leans so hard into his gravel-throated, junkyard prophet persona that the entire album collapses under the weight of its own forced weirdness. It's not raw — it's sloppy. It's not haunting — it's grating. Listening to *Bone Machine* feels less like hearing music and more like being trapped inside a rusted-out oil drum while someone bangs on the outside with a wrench. The songs meander without structure, the percussion sounds like it was recorded in a scrapyard, and Waits’ voice — once evocative — now just sounds like a parody of itself. There’s a difference between being experimental and being unlistenable, and this album doesn’t seem to know the line. Critics called it bold and visionary, but bold doesn’t mean good. It’s an endurance test disguised as art, and one that I have no interest in repeating. If this is brilliance, I’ll happily stay in the dark.

The Dark Side of the Moon isn’t just an album — it’s a full-body experience. Even after all these years, it still sounds futuristic, mysterious, and endlessly deep. Pink Floyd crafted something truly timeless here, blending rock, jazz, synth, and soul into a seamless journey through the human condition — anxiety, greed, mortality, madness. Heavy stuff, yet somehow completely hypnotic. “Time” is a masterclass in dynamics and lyricism, “Us and Them” aches with beauty, and “Brain Damage” is haunting and surreal. But “Money” is the standout — funky, cynical, and packed with bite. That cash register intro alone is legendary. It’s the song that pulled me in, and, in a former life, probably soundtracked more than one slow-motion head trip with smoke curling through the room. This album doesn’t just hold up — it lives outside of time. Whether you’re stone-cold sober or somewhere else entirely, it still hits like nothing else. Favorite song: Money

When it comes to trip-hop, I lean way more Portishead than Massive Attack. There’s something about Portishead’s vibe that pulls me in, while Blue Lines just kind of... floats by. It’s not bad by any means, but it didn’t grab me. The beats are solid, the production is smooth, and I can see why it gets so much love. But for me, it felt more like background music than something I’d seek out again. Good enough to hold my attention, just not enough to keep it.

I know this album has a cult following, but honestly, I don’t get it. Compared to Licensed to Ill, this just feels all over the place. The beats are weird, the flow is messy, and none of the tracks hit the same way. There’s a lot going on, sure. Tons of samples, inside jokes, and deep cuts. But clever doesn’t always mean good. I spent more time wondering what was happening than actually enjoying it. Definitely not for me.

This is where Queen really started showing off all their different sides. You’ve got the theatrical flair of Killer Queen, which is just pure fun every time, and then you’ve got Stone Cold Crazy—fast, loud, and way ahead of its time. It’s no surprise Metallica picked it up for their covers. That song rips. The album bounces all over the place, but in a good way. There’s glam, hard rock, even some proto-metal in the mix. Not every track is a banger, but when it hits, it hits hard. Great energy throughout, and a big step up from the first two albums.

Fun fact I learned during this listen: Dusty Springfield is British. With a name like that, I assumed she was American. The music definitely leans into that Southern soul vibe, which makes it even more surprising. Son of a Preacher Man is the standout here, no question. It’s iconic for a reason. But the rest of the album kind of fades into the background. Nice voice, solid production, but it didn’t leave a big impression on me beyond that one track. Good, not great.

You've got Ella Fitzgerald, one of the greatest jazz vocalists ever, singing songs written by George and Ira Gershwin, two of the most iconic songwriters in American music history. Honestly, what’s not to like? Every track feels like it belongs in a black-and-white movie or echoing from an old record player in some smoky lounge. Ella’s voice is smooth, effortless, and classy. The arrangements are sharp, and the songwriting still holds up decades later. Even if you're not big on show tunes or jazz standards, it's hard not to appreciate the sheer talent on display here.

Green River is CCR at full strength — lean, swampy, and loaded with timeless songs that still sound fresh decades later. It’s only half an hour long, but there’s not a wasted second. The band’s mix of Southern rock, blues, and Bay Area grit is locked in here, and John Fogerty’s raspy howl is at its absolute peak. The title track and “Bad Moon Rising” are undeniable classics — tight, catchy, and full of that backwoods swagger. But “Lodi” is the real gem. It’s simple, sad, and brutally relatable — a perfect story of missed chances and being stuck somewhere you never planned to be. Fogerty’s delivery hits like someone who’s lived it. Green River doesn’t need flash. It’s all muscle and soul — just great songwriting, great playing, and a sound that belongs to CCR alone. A high watermark in American rock. Favorite song: Lodi

Licensed to Ill is loud, bratty, and absolutely legendary — a one-of-a-kind debut that smashed hip-hop into rock with zero apologies and maximum swagger. The Beastie Boys delivered something totally fresh in 1986: a party album that was as clever as it was chaotic, packed with attitude and anthems that still hit decades later. “Fight For Your Right” is the ultimate teenage rebellion anthem, while “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” blends headbanging riffs with rapid-fire rhymes, proving these guys could hang in both mosh pits and cyphers. “Brass Monkey” is pure chaos in the best way — goofy, infectious, unforgettable. And yes, even “Girls,” for all its ridiculousness, captures the tongue-in-cheek charm that made the Beasties impossible to ignore. This isn’t just a party album — it’s a cultural reset. Wild, unfiltered, and way smarter than it pretends to be. A perfect storm of hip-hop, rock, and pure energy. Favorite song: "Fight For Your Right"

Band on the Run is Paul McCartney’s masterpiece of the Wings era — a brilliant mix of pop, rock, and soul that proves his post-Beatles songwriting could stand tall on its own. Born out of chaos (with two band members quitting just before recording), McCartney turned adversity into one of the most cohesive and rewarding albums of the 1970s. The title track, “Band on the Run,” is a mini rock opera — starting slow and dreamy before bursting into one of the most uplifting choruses in his entire catalog. It’s bold, inventive, and completely unforgettable. “Jet” is a full-on blast of glam-rock energy, with a chorus that sticks in your head for days. “Mrs. Vandebilt” brings in a laid-back groove and infectious “ho hey ho” chant that feels tailor-made for a crowd singalong. “Let Me Roll It” channels Lennon-esque grit with a heavy riff and smoky vocals — raw and soulful in all the right ways. And then there’s “Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Five”, a thunderous closer that builds into a sweeping finale, tying the album together with cinematic flair. Every track feels carefully crafted but totally alive — it’s playful, passionate, and endlessly replayable. Band on the Run isn’t just McCartney proving himself — it’s McCartney showing off, and it’s glorious. Favorite song: "Let Me Roll It"

Locust Abortion Technician is a sonic disaster masquerading as avant-garde brilliance. The Butthole Surfers throw everything at the wall here — noise, distortion, pitch-shifted gibberish — and somehow nothing sticks. It’s not weird in a cool or challenging way; it’s weird in a "please turn this off before my brain leaks out" kind of way. There’s no structure, no coherence, and certainly no reward for sitting through this mess. Every track sounds like it was recorded during a psychotic breakdown in a garage full of malfunctioning equipment. The vocals are buried under layers of nonsense, the production is intentionally awful, and any moment that might resemble a song is quickly sabotaged by sheer obnoxiousness. If the goal was to make something unlistenable, mission accomplished. It's not bold, it's not experimental — it's exhausting. This isn’t art. It’s a migraine with album art.

This was a cool one. I had no clue what to expect going in, but the backstory grabbed me right away. The whole album was recorded in one day, live, with a single mic in a church. You can actually hear the space in the songs, and it gives the whole thing this intimate, ghostly vibe. Their covers of Hank Williams and Lou Reed were unexpected but really well done. They made those songs their own without trying too hard. It’s mellow, slow, and kind of hypnotic. Definitely not something I’d throw on every day, but it’s a beautiful listen when you’re in the right mood

An instrumental soundtrack from a movie I hadn’t even heard of didn’t exactly sound promising going in. But wow—this one really surprised me. Air did a great job capturing a dreamy, haunting atmosphere without saying a single word. The music feels nostalgic and eerie at the same time, like flipping through old photo albums or watching a sunset in slow motion. It’s moody without being depressing, soft without being boring. Definitely one of the better scores I’ve come across, and something I could see myself putting on in the background again. Didn’t expect to like this one, but here we are.

Sonic Youth is always a toss-up for me. Sometimes they hit with a gritty, noisy charm. Other times, it just feels like they’re jamming for the sake of it. This one falls into the latter category. There’s clearly some creativity here, and I get why people call it influential, but most of it just didn’t land for me. A few interesting moments scattered around, but not enough to make me want to come back to it. Definitely a miss this time.

Live at Fillmore East is not just a live album — it’s a defining moment in American rock history. The Allman Brothers Band captured lightning in a bottle over two nights in March 1971, delivering a performance that’s raw, masterful, and completely electrifying. This is the sound of a band at its absolute peak, blending Southern rock, blues, and jazz into something uniquely their own. Duane Allman and Dickey Betts’ guitar interplay is nothing short of legendary, weaving improvisations that feel both spontaneous and impossibly tight. Tracks like “Whipping Post” and “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” stretch past the ten-minute mark without ever losing momentum — these aren't jams for the sake of jamming; they’re journeys. The band’s chemistry is off the charts. Gregg Allman’s soulful vocals and Hammond organ work bring depth and grit, while the rhythm section drives everything forward with relentless precision. Even the quieter moments are steeped in emotion and finesse. Live at Fillmore East sets the gold standard for what a live rock album should be: urgent, expansive, and alive. It’s more than a performance — it’s a masterpiece. Favorite song: "Whipping Post"

Adele’s 21 is a masterclass in heartbreak, soul, and sheer vocal power. From the opening stomp of “Rolling in the Deep,” it’s clear this isn’t just another breakup album — it’s a storm of raw emotion wrapped in stunning songwriting and flawless delivery. Adele doesn’t just sing about pain; she makes you feel every word. Big hits like “Rumour Has It” and “Set Fire to the Rain” showcase her ability to blend pop accessibility with old-school soul, but it’s the quieter moments that really shine. “Don’t You Remember” is a criminally underrated deep cut — aching, vulnerable, and beautifully restrained. Her take on The Cure’s “Lovesong” strips it down to its emotional core, transforming it into something haunting and elegant. Every track on 21 serves a purpose, and Adele’s voice is the guiding force — powerful, bruised, and completely human. This is the rare album that’s both critically respected and universally embraced — and it absolutely earns every bit of that praise. Favorite song: Don't You Remember

Dummy is a landmark debut — dark, elegant, and emotionally devastating in the best way. Portishead created a sound all their own here, fusing hip-hop beats, moody jazz chords, and vintage vinyl crackle into something deeply cinematic and intimate. It’s trip-hop at its finest, but even that label feels too small for what this album achieves. Beth Gibbons’ voice is the beating heart of the record — fragile one moment, fierce the next — and she delivers every lyric like a whispered confession. “Roads” is the emotional centerpiece, a slow-burning masterpiece that aches with loneliness and longing. “Sour Times” blends spy-movie strings with a dusty breakbeat and unforgettable chorus. “Glory Box” closes the album with a sultry, smoldering plea for love and identity, flipping blues and soul into something futuristic and haunting. Even deeper cuts like “Mysterons” and “Wandering Star” add to the album’s shadowy atmosphere, each track flowing into the next like scenes from a noir film. Every detail — the scratches, the samples, the silence between notes — is deliberate and affecting. Dummy isn’t just an album; it’s a fully formed world. Strange, sad, and seductive — and once you enter it, it’s hard to leave. Favorite song: Mysterons

This one was a slog. I get why some folks love it, but that smooth, laid-back R&B just isn’t my thing. It all kind of blurred together after a while. D’Angelo’s clearly talented, and I respect the vibe he’s going for, but it just didn’t grab me. Maybe if I were sipping wine in a dimly lit lounge, I’d feel differently. But sitting on my couch? I was just waiting for it to end.

The White Album is sprawling, strange, beautiful, and completely essential — a double LP that refuses to be pinned down. Every track feels like a world unto itself, bursting with personality, invention, and the kind of songwriting range that only a band at the peak of their powers could pull off. There’s no filler here — just a kaleidoscope of styles and moods, each song revealing something new with every listen. Favorites shift with the wind, but certain tracks always rise to the surface. “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” aches with sorrow and Eric Clapton’s searing guitar. “Blackbird” is simple and perfect, a quiet anthem of hope. “Mother Nature’s Son” feels like a soft breeze through an open window. And then there’s “Savoy Truffle” — funky, playful, and full of George Harrison’s dry wit. The White Album isn’t just a collection of songs — it’s a complete experience. Chaotic, brilliant, and endlessly replayable. One of the greatest albums ever made, and somehow still full of surprises.

I like some of Nine Inch Nails’ stuff, and I actually think the concept behind this album is pretty interesting. It’s dark, gritty, and clearly meant to push boundaries. You can tell Trent Reznor put a lot of thought into the storyline and atmosphere. But man, the music just didn’t land for me. It felt like noise for the sake of being edgy. I wanted to like it, especially with all the hype around it, but most of it was borderline unlistenable. Cool idea, rough execution.

I had zero expectations going into this one. Never heard of Sufjan Stevens before and figured it’d be another artsy indie album that just wasn’t for me. I was very wrong. This album blew me away. The level of detail he packs into the songs, blending state history with personal stories and weird little jokes, somehow works. One minute you’re smiling at how ridiculous a song title is, the next minute you're hit with something that genuinely stops you in your tracks. It’s theatrical, intimate, and weird in the best way. I still chuckle every time I see the full title of “The Black Hawk War...” but then I get pulled right back into something like “Casimir Pulaski Day,” which just hits hard. Easily one of the most unique albums I’ve ever heard — and one of the best.

Wait... the guy who gave us "Woo-hoo!" in Song 2 is also behind this cartoon band? Wild. Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect with their debut, but it’s got a few cool moments. "Clint Eastwood" still slaps, no question there. The rest of the album? Kind of hit or miss. Some tracks feel like experiments that didn’t fully land, while others are just chill enough to leave on in the background. It's not Demon Days but it laid the groundwork. A decent start from a group that got much better later.

Back to Black is a soul-shaking triumph — raw, stylish, and heartbreakingly real. Amy Winehouse poured everything into this album: her voice, her pain, her wit, and her flaws. With Mark Ronson and Salaam Remi’s vintage-inspired production, the record feels like a lost Motown classic filtered through the lens of modern heartbreak. “Tears Dry On Their Own” stands out as the crown jewel — a pure throwback groove with a soaring melody and a devastating undercurrent. It’s the kind of song you can dance to with tears in your eyes. Throughout the album, Amy swings between swagger and sorrow, never flinching, never faking it. Losing her so young feels like more than a tragedy — it’s a loss of a once-in-a-generation talent whose voice and honesty could cut through anything. Back to Black isn’t just a great album. It’s a legacy. One that still echoes loud and clear. Favorite song: Tears Dry On Their Own

I'll admit it—Taylor Swift is one of my guilty pleasures. Say what you want about her being overexposed or polarizing, but the woman’s got talent. She writes her own songs, sings them, plays instruments, produces the tracks, and actually performs. That alone sets her apart in a pop scene where half the charts are just features and samples. 1989 was a big shift for her, and looking back, it still holds up surprisingly well. It’s polished but personal, catchy without feeling hollow. Hard to believe it's already been a decade since this one dropped, but it doesn’t sound dated. Solid album from a legit artist.

Revolver is where The Beatles stopped being just a band and became full-blown innovators. It’s their first album made after experimenting with LSD, and you can hear the doors of perception flying open in every track. This isn’t just a collection of songs — it’s a turning point in modern music, where creativity, curiosity, and consciousness collided in the studio. “Taxman” opens with a snarl, George Harrison taking aim at the system with sharp wit and funk-infused grit. “Eleanor Rigby” follows, radically different — a stark string arrangement and narrative depth that felt miles beyond anything in pop music at the time. “Here, There and Everywhere” brings a beautiful softness, McCartney’s delicate vocal and ethereal harmonies floating somewhere above reality. “I Want to Tell You” captures the confusion and internal noise of a mind pushed beyond its limits, with clashing chords and hypnotic tension. “Got to Get You Into My Life” brings it all back to earth with brassy, joyful energy — a soul-infused track that channels Motown while still sounding distinctly Beatles. With Revolver, they weren’t just writing hits — they were rewriting the rules. Studio effects, tape loops, backwards guitars, philosophical lyrics — all of it feels fresh, fearless, and forward-looking. It’s the sound of four minds opening up and taking rock music somewhere it had never been before. A psychedelic masterpiece that still stands as one of their boldest and best. Favorite song: "Eleanor Rigby"

Shake Your Money Maker is one of those rare debut albums that lands with the confidence of a band already in full stride. The Black Crowes came out swinging, blending Southern rock, blues, soul, and a shot of Stones swagger into a sound that feels both timeless and raw. There’s nothing trendy or overproduced here — just great songs, gritty performances, and a band that knows exactly who they are. “Jealous Again” is a killer opener — punchy, soulful, and driven by Chris Robinson’s raspy, commanding vocals. It’s the kind of track that could’ve come out in 1971 or yesterday and still feel fresh. Then there’s “She Talks to Angels,” a haunting acoustic ballad that strips everything back and showcases the emotional depth behind all the bravado. It’s one of the most powerful songs of the era, full of vulnerability and storytelling. Throughout the album, the band leans into a classic sound without ever feeling like a cheap throwback. Whether it’s the bluesy strut of “Twice As Hard” or the gospel-tinged groove of “Seeing Things,” every track feels lived-in and real. This isn’t just a great rock album — it’s a reminder that timeless songwriting, passionate delivery, and a little Southern grit never go out of style. Favorite song: "Jealous Again"

m b v sounds like what happens when you accidentally leave your headphones half-plugged into your phone and convince yourself it’s art. It's like they took everything cool about shoegaze, drowned it in a bathtub of reverb, and hoped no one would notice there's barely a song underneath. The vocals are buried so deep it’s like the band was too shy to actually be heard. The guitars sound like they’re melting in slow motion, and not in a good way. Every track just kind of floats around in a fog, going nowhere, like ambient noise for people who hate melody and pacing.

I went into this one expecting to like it just because I’m a fan of The Smiths, but it surprised me by standing on its own. Morrissey sounds more reflective here, less snarky and more... human? The songwriting feels personal and mature, and the melodies stick with you. It’s got that melancholic charm without being too dreary, and the production is sharp without trying too hard. Definitely one of his better solo efforts. Even if you're not big on Morrissey outside The Smiths, this one’s worth a listen.

Get Rich or Die Tryin’ isn’t just a debut album — it’s a full-blown cultural moment. 50 Cent came into the game like a force of nature, and this album delivers everything his myth promised: hard-hitting beats, street-certified lyrics, and hooks for days. It’s raw, relentless, and polished in all the right places, with Dr. Dre and Eminem behind the boards and a hunger in 50’s voice that you can’t fake. “What Up Gangsta” sets the tone from the jump — aggressive, no-nonsense, and built to shake car trunks. “Patiently Waiting” pairs 50 with Eminem before their eventual fallout, and the chemistry is electric. It’s a back-and-forth showcase of hunger and intensity, with Em blacking out on his verse. “Many Men (Wish Death)” stands out as a dark, emotional centerpiece — a street anthem soaked in paranoia and pain. “High All the Time” brings a woozy, hypnotic vibe to the mix, while “P.I.M.P.” is a laid-back, steel drum-laced banger that showed 50 could dominate clubs just as easily as corners. And the closer, “Gotta Make It to Heaven,” reminds you that underneath the bravado is a man who’s survived too much to take life for granted. The features are just as iconic — Nate Dogg brings that West Coast smooth to “21 Questions,” Lloyd Banks adds grit on “Don’t Push Me,” and the whole thing plays like a greatest hits album. This album didn’t just live up to the hype — it set a new standard. One of the strongest debuts in hip-hop history, period. Favorite song: "Stay High All The Time"

There’s a reason Kendrick Lamar has a Pulitzer. The man knows how to write. His lyrics are sharp, layered, and full of meaning without ever sounding preachy. This album is packed with ideas and feels more like a statement than just a collection of songs. That said, I still like good kid, m.A.A.d city more. It’s more cohesive and a little easier to throw on. To Pimp a Butterfly asks more of you as a listener, but it rewards you for paying attention. Not an everyday listen, but definitely an important one.

If you’ve ever wondered what a fever dream in a Hobbit village might sound like, this album is pretty close. The Incredible String Band leaned fully into psychedelia here, and it’s oddly charming in that medieval-folk-on-acid sort of way. Psychedelic music was easily one of the best by-products of the 60s, and it’s hard not to credit a lot of that to mind-altering substances. This isn’t a casual background album, but if you’re in the mood for something strange and beautifully layered, it’s worth the ride.

I get it — Palo Congo is supposed to be important in the history of Latin music. That’s cool. But that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy sitting through it. This album is basically one long drum circle with someone yelling over it, and after a few tracks, it starts to feel more like a test of patience than a musical experience. “Billumba-Palo Congo” was especially rough — chaotic without being interesting, and way too repetitive. I kept waiting for it to click, but it never did. It just kept going... and going... like someone left a bongo on loop. That said, “Rhapsodia del Maravilloso” was a bright spot. It had some real rhythm and energy that stood out from the rest. But one decent track can’t save an album that feels more like background noise for a cultural anthropology lecture than something I’d willingly listen to again.

Highway 61 Revisited is the moment Bob Dylan lit a match and set folk tradition on fire. With a bold move to electric guitar and full-band arrangements, he stirred major controversy among purists — and in doing so, helped reshape the future of rock music. It’s wild to think this level of backlash came from adding some amps, but Dylan wasn’t just changing sound — he was changing the rules. Desolation Row closes the record with nearly 11 minutes of stunning, surreal poetry. Dylan’s lyrics are dense, apocalyptic, and weirdly beautiful, turning the song into something that feels more like a literary epic than a folk tune. It's proof of exactly why he earned that Nobel Prize. Still, the electric tracks are incredible. “Like a Rolling Stone” kicks the door down with one of the most iconic openings in music history, while “Tombstone Blues” and “Ballad of a Thin Man” are razor-sharp, dripping with cynicism and swagger. “Highway 61 Revisited” itself is a chaotic joyride — twisted Americana turned on its head. This album didn’t just push boundaries — it redrew the map. Highway 61 Revisited is rebellious, visionary, and endlessly re-listenable. It’s not just a classic; it’s one of the key reasons Bob Dylan stands alone in the pantheon of songwriters. Ironically, my favorite track on the album is the only fully acoustic one: “Desolation Row.”

Neil Young can be hit or miss for me, and Tonight’s the Night definitely leans more toward the miss side. Most of his albums usually have at least one track that really grabs me, but this one just kind of drags from start to finish. If I had to pick a favorite, I’d go with “Tonight’s the Night – Part II” — but really, it’s just the one I disliked the least. The rest of the album blends together in a hazy, off-key way that I get is supposed to feel raw and emotional, but it mostly just felt flat to me.

I'm so glad to see a thrash metal band like Sepultura get their due, and Roots lives up to the hype in its own heavy, experimental way. I’ve had various Sepultura tracks on my playlists since high school, but this was the first time I sat down and listened to Roots front to back — and it didn’t disappoint. “Roots Bloody Roots” kicks things off with absolute power. It’s raw, aggressive, and easily my favorite track on the album. That riff hits like a truck. “Ratamahatta” is another standout, bringing in indigenous Brazilian rhythms and vocals in a way that actually works — a really cool blend that makes the album feel unique in the metal world. “Breed Apart” has a banger of an opening riff, and “Jasco” was a surprising acoustic moment that added a nice breather in the middle of the chaos. On the flip side, “Canyon Jam” was my least favorite. The gunshot sound effect was a nice touch, but after that, it kind of just wandered around for way too long. There’s a proggy, experimental edge to the album — not just in the 14-minute closer, but throughout, with all the tribal instrumentation and ambient textures layered into the mix. It’s bold, heavy, and has more depth than you might expect from a band known for thrash.

Not a huge fan of indie rock in general, so Neon Bible didn’t totally land for me. A lot of the songs just blended together and felt like the kind of generic indie rock that never really grabs me. That said, there were a couple of standouts. “Intervention” was a solid ballad — emotional, well-written, and probably the most memorable track for me. But “Ocean of Noise” was the one I actually really enjoyed. Great vibe, moody in the right way, and definitely a cut above the rest.

Kid A sounds like what would happen if a less talented version of The Beatles tried to make Sgt. Pepper’s and forgot to bring the songs. I gave it a listen as part of Apple Music’s 100 Greatest Albums countdown, and honestly, once was more than enough. After how great OK Computer was — wall-to-wall bangers — Kid A feels like a total drop-off. It's just aimless, glitchy noise wrapped in artsy vibes with zero payoff. Nothing stuck with me. In fact, when I saw it pop up again, it actually took me a minute to realize I had already listened to it before. That pretty much says it all — completely forgettable. There’s not a single track I’d go back to. They’re all equally bad in their own weird, lifeless way.

Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs by Marty Robbins is pure cowboy poetry — smooth, nostalgic, and packed with Western charm. But let’s be honest: if you’re here giving this album five stars, there’s a good chance you wandered in from the Mojave Wasteland. Thanks to Fallout: New Vegas, tracks like “Big Iron” and “Cool Water” have taken on near-mythic status. Hearing Big Iron kick in while patrolling the desert with a revolver and questionable morals? Unmatched. Suddenly, Robbins’ rich voice and storytelling aren’t just old-school country — they’re the soundtrack to dusty showdowns and wandering loners trying to do the right thing in a broken world. Outside the Fallout connection, the album is still a gem. Robbins was a master storyteller, and songs like “El Paso” and “The Master’s Call” hold up as classic narrative-driven country. But it’s the pop culture revival that makes this record feel alive again. So yes, this is five stars — not just for the quality, but for the sheer atmosphere it brings to anyone who’s roamed the Mojave with Big Iron on his hip.

Homework is where it all began — and what a debut. Daft Punk’s first album is a gritty, pulsing, endlessly creative slab of French house that still sounds fresh decades later. It’s rawer and more underground than their later work, but that’s part of its charm. Every track feels alive, like it’s coming straight from a smoky club at 3 a.m. The opening track “Daftendirekt” sets the tone with a hypnotic groove that pulls you in immediately. “Rollin’ & Scratchin’” is a full-on sonic assault — distorted, relentless, and completely addictive. “Burnin’” is another standout, with its funky, loop-driven build that could soundtrack a night drive through a neon-lit city. “Indo Silver Club” and “Alive” bring in that trance-adjacent energy — both tracks feel like something you’d hear on a modern episode of A State of Trance, blending rhythm and atmosphere in a way that’s pure Daft Punk. And honestly? There’s not a bad track here. It’s one of those rare albums where every song earns its place. I had no idea this was their debut, but of the three Daft Punk albums I’ve heard so far, Homework is hands down my favorite. It’s raw, innovative, and effortlessly cool — a blueprint that launched an era. Favorite song: "Rollin' and Scratchin'"

xx by The xx just confirmed what I already kinda knew — indie rock’s not really my thing. The whole album has a super minimal, moody vibe that never really goes anywhere. Every song blends into the next, and after a while it just feels like one long, slow track on repeat. I don’t have a favorite or least favorite because, honestly, they all sound pretty much the same to me. Not terrible, just not interesting. It’s background music at best, and even then, I’m probably skipping it.

I first got into A Tribe Called Quest earlier this year while going through Apple’s Top 10 Albums countdown, and I was hooked. Naturally, I had high hopes for The Renaissance, and Q-Tip definitely delivered. You can really hear his influence as the main producer — the beats are smooth, jazzy, and laid-back, just like you’d expect from him. The whole album has a great vibe. It’s polished but never overdone, and Q-Tip’s flow is as smooth and effortless as ever. He doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel — just gives us smart, feel-good hip-hop with a ton of soul. Also, gotta give him some bonus points for his cameo in one of the best Chappelle’s Show skits of all time: Knee High Park Favorite Song: Will Trade

Supa Dupa Fly is a game-changing debut that exploded every expectation of what hip-hop — and hip-hop production — could sound like in the late ’90s. Missy Elliott arrived fully formed, blending futuristic style with fearless originality, and Timbaland’s production flipped the script with off-kilter beats, space-age rhythms, and deep, head-nodding grooves. Nothing else sounded like this in 1997 — and honestly, nothing really has since. Missy’s flow is sharp, playful, and unpredictable, and she knows exactly when to flex and when to float. “Hit Em Wit Da Hee” is a bold opener that sets the tone immediately, blending haunting strings with that signature Timbo bounce. “The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)” remains one of the most iconic singles of the era — strange, stylish, and hypnotic, with Missy riding the beat like nobody else could. And “Friendly Skies” brings smooth R&B vibes, with Ginuwine’s silky vocals playing perfectly off Missy’s laid-back delivery. The guest list is stacked, and every feature hits: Busta Rhymes, Aaliyah, Lil’ Kim, Da Brat, 702, Ginuwine — all of them bring heat without overshadowing the star. Missy isn’t just holding her own among big names — she’s setting the pace. Supadupa Fly was ahead of its time and somehow still sounds like the future. Inventive, iconic, and endlessly fun — it’s a flawless introduction to one of hip-hop’s most visionary artists. Favorite song: "Friendly Skies"

John Prine’s self-titled debut has everything you’d expect from a ‘70s country/folk album — plenty of pedal steel, honest songwriting, and storytelling that hits just right. What really surprised me were the little touches, like the sitar effects sprinkled throughout. You can definitely still hear that late-’60s influence woven into the more traditional sounds, and it gives the album a cool, unexpected vibe. I’m not usually big on country, but this one’s a solid listen from start to finish. “Paradise” in particular stood out — it felt like a blueprint for a lot of the stuff I love from Old Crow Medicine Show. You can hear the DNA of their music in tracks like that. Favorite song: Sam Stone

I went into Getz/Gilberto knowing exactly one thing — “The Girl from Ipanema.” And yeah, it’s a classic for a reason. Smooth, laid-back, and still catchy after all these years. The rest of the album follows that same vibe — chill, breezy bossa nova that’s easy on the ears but doesn’t leave a huge impact for me beyond the big hit. Fun fact: Astrud Gilberto has at least one other album on this list, and I’ve checked it out already (just not on this generator yet). That one wasn’t bad either, so I’ll give her credit — she brings a cool, understated vibe to everything she touches.

Tago Mago is definitely an interesting Krautrock album — experimental, unpredictable, and at times completely out there. It’s the kind of record that keeps you on your toes, even if it doesn’t always land. “Halleluhwah” is easily the highlight. That groove is hypnotic and somehow manages to stay engaging through its long runtime. It’s weird, but in a fun, head-nodding kind of way. On the other hand, “Aumgn” was a tough listen. It leans a little too far into abstract noise territory and kind of lost me along the way. Overall, I respect the creativity and the influence this album clearly had, but it’s a mixed bag for me.

Finally, a NWOBHM album shows up! The Number of the Beast is a classic, and even though I don’t listen to Iron Maiden much these days, this one brings back all kinds of memories — especially blasting the title track on 06/06/2006 like every other metalhead with a sense of humor. I had a bunch of Maiden songs loaded up on my iPod back in high school, and this album was in heavy rotation. Side 2 is absolutely stacked — “The Number of the Beast,” “Run to the Hills,” “Hallowed Be Thy Name” — just banger after banger. Favorite track: Number of the Beast

Didn’t hate it, didn’t love it. Just kind of floated through it like a dream you forget as soon as you wake up. I get why some folks love this one. The production is rich, the vocals are airy, and it creates a vibe. But for me, it didn’t really land. It all kind of blended together. Nothing grabbed me or made me want to hit replay. It’s easy to have on in the background, but I doubt I’ll ever be in a hurry to hear it again.

Out of 1,001 albums, I somehow managed to pull two Can albums in just four days. What are the odds? Krautrock can be interesting in small doses, but this was pushing it. That said, Future Days wasn’t terrible. It had its moments. "Moonshake" was a standout. Short, punchy, and the closest thing to a normal song on the album. But then there’s "Bel Air"—twenty minutes of what felt like the cymbal breakdown from "Whole Lotta Love" with some synths tossed on top. It was a bit much. Still, the album has a decent groove overall. I wouldn’t seek it out again, but I didn’t suffer through it either.

Another classic Dead Album. It's not my favorite but still has solid tracks. Truckin' is an all-time banger. Favorite Song: Truckin' Least Favorite Song: Candyman

Fishscale was my first real dive into Ghostface Killah’s solo work — I’ve only heard one Wu-Tang album before this — and going in blind turned out to be the best way to experience it. From the jump, this album is immersive, detailed, and sonically rich. The Dolby Atmos mix really brings it to life — the beats hit hard, the samples are layered perfectly, and Ghost’s voice cuts through with clarity and weight. The artist features are top-tier: Raekwon delivers as always, and unexpected appearances from Ne-Yo, Ice Cube, and even Ye add variety without stealing the spotlight. Ghostface holds it all together with his storytelling — “Whip You with a Strap” and “Momma” in particular feel like vivid scenes from a movie, personal and raw without ever dragging. The production is fantastic throughout. I loved the use of Biggie samples, especially on “Back Like That” — it gave off Song Cry vibes until I realized it was directly nodding to it. There’s a real sense of craft behind the sampling, not just nostalgia. “Shakey Dog” opens the album with a bang — intense narrative, killer beat — and “Champ” keeps the momentum with an energetic, funky intro that feels like vintage soul dipped in street grit. But the highlight for me? “Clipse of Doom.” That track is a monster. The energy, the flow, the instrumental — everything clicks. There’s no filler on Fishscale. It’s sharp, consistent, and packed with personality. As a first-time listener of Ghostface solo work, I couldn’t be more impressed. Five stars, easy. Now I’m wondering what took me so long. Favorite song: "Clipse of Doom"

I do enjoy some Motown jams but I’m just not a fan of The Temptations’ psychedelic era.

Without any other knowledge on this album, I feel like most of these songs have not stood the test of time, even if the album was a hit contemporaneously. Favorite song: Such A Night Least Favorite Song: Solder Boy

I like Tribe's stuff. Just good, 80s/90s hip hop. I love the samples features on this album - Hendrix, Lou Reed, Stevie Wonder, and Phil Spector. The album is full of the word play and double entendres I've come to enjoy from their work. Favorite song: I Left My Wallet in El Segundo Least Favorite Song: Really not a bad song on this album.

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness isn’t just an album — it’s an epic. The Smashing Pumpkins delivered a sprawling, ambitious double LP that somehow manages to feel both grandiose and deeply personal. It swings wildly from rage to beauty, despair to hope, chaos to calm — and somehow, it all works. “1979” is the emotional anchor — nostalgic, reflective, and effortlessly cool, it captures that sense of youth slipping away without slipping into sentimentality. “Bullet with Butterfly Wings” is pure frustration and angst, delivered with Billy Corgan’s signature snarl over a wall of crunching guitars. Then there’s “Tonight, Tonight,” a soaring orchestral masterpiece that feels cinematic in scope and timeless in message. And let’s not forget “XYU” — an unhinged, snarling beast of a track that showcases the darker, heavier edge of the band. It’s violent, chaotic, and utterly compelling in contrast to the album’s softer moments. With Mellon Collie, the Pumpkins took a huge creative risk and pulled it off spectacularly. It’s rare for an album this long to be so consistently strong, but every track feels like a piece of a larger emotional puzzle. A defining statement from one of the ’90s most unique bands — and one that still resonates just as deeply today. Favorite song: XYU

MY GOD THE SYNTHESIZERS. It’s like they went Black Friday shopping at Moog and decided to use it all on this album. A couple songs in, I was getting Cure vibes but after that, it was straight into stereotypical 80s pop. But, honestly, I don’t hate it. Guilty Partner is a good track and the Spanish guitar is a nice feature. Favorite song: Round and round

Phil Spector was a piece of shit by his Wall of Sound shines through and all the artists he produced were talented. Still on of the best rock n roll Christmas albums out there

Never been a Rod Stewart fan. I’m sure it’s held any higher acclaim overall vs my opinion but nothing special to me. I did enjoy his rendition of That’s All Right Favorite Song: That’s All Right Least Favorite Song: Seems Like a Long Time

Some records can be hit or miss in Atmos but this one is mixed well. Really good story telling on Testify. Haven’t listened to a lot of Common’s stuff but I’m giving him a Chappelle’s Show bump like I did with Q-Tip. Favorite song: The Corner Least favorite song: Faithful

It’s what I’ve come to expect from Kraftwerk. Favorite song: Spacelab Least favorite song: The Robots

A second day in a row of electronic music, terrific. This one just wasn’t doing it for me.

As someone who grew up in the 90's, I can't not like Bittersweet Symphony. I can't say I'm familiar with any of there other tracks. Their other stuff is remniscient of Oasis and I think that's why I like it. "Sonnet" was really good and "The Drugs Don't Work" is a perfect sad song. Favorite song: The Drugs Don't Work Least Favorite Song: Weeping Willow

Three electronic albums in four days. Surely it comes to an end at some point. Never heard of this group. Sounds like pretty standard late 80s/early 90s EDM. I'm trying not to let the fact that I'm getting sick of electronic music sway my rating. I'm typing this as I listen so we'll see if my thoughts change. The album was off to a slow start but Cobra Bora and Pacific 202 are actually pretty good. Donkey Doctor is a certified banger. Favorite song: Donkey Doctor Least Favorite Song: Magical Dream

While I appreciate and respect the specific number of songs on this album, three hours of this is a bit much. I'm deducting a star for the length. Other than that, some of the songs were good, some were not. Album #2 had the best tracks overall, in my opinion. Favorite song: The Book of Love. This one is actually really, really good. Least Favorite Song: Zebra

I don’t even need to listen to L.A. Woman to know it’s a five-star album — but I’m going to anyway, because it’s just that good. This is The Doors at their rawest, loosest, and most locked-in, and as a final statement with Jim Morrison, it hits even harder. RIP Jim — you went out with a masterpiece. What really stands out on every listen is Jerry Scheff’s bass work. He’s the unsung hero of this record, grounding every track with smooth, melodic lines that add real depth and groove. And Robby Krieger’s slide guitar on “Been Down So Long”? Absolutely filthy in the best way — gritty, bluesy, and perfectly unpolished. From the title track’s hypnotic drive to the eerie sprawl of “Riders on the Storm,” L.A. Woman is a classic from front to back. Raw, soulful, and timeless. Automatic 5 stars. Favorite song: Love Her Madly. Scheff's bass really shines through here.

Prince is one of those artists where you can see the talent from a mile away. The guy could write, produce, perform, and probably fix your car while shredding a solo. But no matter how many times I try, his music just doesn’t click with me. 1999 has its moments. The title track is fun, and “Little Red Corvette” still holds up. But as a whole, it feels like something I respect more than actually enjoy Favorite song: 1999 Least favorite song: Automatic

Look, I get that Marvin Gaye is a legend. But a full album of slow-burning love ballads just isn’t for me. It’s basically 30 minutes of bedroom music, and that’s being generous with the variety. Every track feels like it’s stuck in the same mood, and after a while, it all blends together. That said, I’ll give Marvin credit for keeping it short. He got in, whispered sweet nothings, and got out. For the short runtime alone, I’ll bump it up a star. Favorite Song: Let's Get It On Least Favorite Song: You Sure Love To Ball

I had to spin this one twice just to figure out where I landed on it. First time through, I honestly thought this was some gritty late 70s or early 80s punk album. The raw energy, the feedback, the vocals... none of it screamed 1990 to me. Turns out it's Goo by Sonic Youth, and yeah, it surprised me. The first nine tracks are actually really solid. There’s this weird, fuzzy, chaotic charm that grows on you the more you let it play. It’s loud, messy, and a little disjointed, but in a way that makes sense once you’re in the right headspace for it. Not what I expected at all, and that’s part of why I ended up liking it. Favorite song: Mote Least favorite song: Titanium Expose

Hybrid Theory is more than just an album — it’s a time capsule. I can’t count how many times I listened to this CD in middle school, and it still hits just as hard today. Linkin Park nailed something special here: a perfect blend of nu-metal aggression, hip-hop rhythm, and emotional vulnerability that spoke directly to a generation caught between angst and identity. Every track feels massive, from the explosive “Papercut” to the anthemic “In the End.” Chester’s raw vocals paired with Mike’s sharp verses created a dynamic that was fresh and unforgettable. Songs like “Crawling,” “Points of Authority,” and “One Step Closer” became instant classics — powerful, cathartic, and endlessly replayable. Whether you were blasting it through headphones or burning it into your first CD-R mix, Hybrid Theory was the soundtrack to growing up in the early 2000s. A flawless debut and a defining album that earned every bit of its legacy. Five stars, then and now. Favorite song: Points of Authority

Well, it definitely delivers on the title. There are plenty of tubular bells. I’ve got a lot of respect for Mike Oldfield—dude played just about every instrument on this thing. That’s impressive, no question. As for the music itself, it’s decent background noise. Kinda meanders in places, but it’s got that cinematic, almost spooky vibe that works in the right setting. I wouldn’t put it on intentionally, but I’m giving it an extra star for its iconic use in The Exorcist. That connection alone makes it more memorable than it might’ve been otherwise.

New wave just doesn't do it for me, and this album didn’t change my mind. Most of the songs feel overly polished and kind of bland. I didn’t connect with much of it, and I doubt I’ll ever feel the need to give it another spin. That said, “All Tomorrow’s Parties” stood out. It leans more psychedelic rock than new wave, and it’s easily the best track here. If the whole album had followed that vibe, I might’ve felt differently. But as it stands, one good song isn’t enough to save it.

I went into this expecting to hate it, but it wasn’t bad at all. Kind of soft-spoken, kind of quirky, but not in an annoying way. The vocals are delicate, the lyrics are smart, and the whole thing has a quiet charm that sneaks up on you if you’re not paying attention. It’s definitely not something I’d blast in the car, but for a chill afternoon or background noise while doing something else, it works. Favorite song: Expectations Least Favorite song: The State I Am In

This is peak early 90s hip hop. Smooth beats, heavy G-funk, and a vibe that’s unmistakably West Coast. I’ve always had a soft spot for this era, and The Chronic holds up. It’s raw, laid-back, and confident without trying too hard. One thing I really miss in today’s rap albums is the skits. They gave personality, pacing, and helped shape a story. This one’s full of them, and they still hit. Is it the best album of the era? Not quite, at least not for me. But it’s close enough to earn a solid 4 stars. Favorite song: Stranded on Death Row

Physical Graffiti is Led Zeppelin at their most expansive, ambitious, and completely untouchable. This double album isn’t just a collection of songs — it’s a full showcase of everything the band could do, and they do all of it at the highest level. “In My Time of Dying” is an 11-minute blues-rock epic, and Jimmy Page’s slide guitar work is absolutely feral — raw, haunting, and hypnotic. It’s one of the heaviest and most soulful tracks they ever recorded. “Houses of the Holy” brings groove and swagger, a funk-inflected rocker that somehow didn’t make the album it was named after but feels right at home here. “Kashmir” is the crown jewel — massive, majestic, and totally unique. That hypnotic riff, Bonham’s thunderous drumming, and Plant’s commanding vocal performance all swirl into something that feels mythic. And then there’s “Bron-Yr-Aur”, a short acoustic interlude that adds a moment of serenity — delicate, earthy, and beautifully played. From bombastic rockers to tender acoustic moments, this has it all. It’s not just a great Led Zeppelin album — it’s the Led Zeppelin album for those who want to hear the full scope of what the band was capable of. Favorite song: In My Time of Dying

Went into this completely blind and had no idea what to expect — but I was pleasantly surprised. It’s got some really solid songs on it, way more emotional depth and cool arrangements than I thought going in. The vocals take a minute to get used to, but once you're in the groove, it works. A few tracks hit harder than others, but overall it's a well-put-together album with a good mix of moody, dramatic, and melodic moments. Definitely made me curious to check out more of Elbow’s stuff. Favorite song: The Bones of You

The Chirping Crickets is pure rock 'n' roll history. It’s short, sweet, and packed with that early, innocent energy that helped shape everything that came after. Buddy Holly's voice is smooth, the songwriting is catchy, and the band keeps things tight without ever overdoing it. Sure, by today’s standards some of it might feel a little dated, but there's a charm here that still works. Songs like "That’ll Be the Day" and "Not Fade Away" are classics for a reason. RIP Buddy — gone way too soon, but left behind a debut that still holds up.

I can get down with some Gothic Rock, but this just ain't it. Most of the album feels like it's stuck in slow motion — overly dramatic without much payoff. The mood is there, sure, but it kind of drags without delivering anything that really sticks. That said, "Lucretia My Reflection" is a total banger. Great groove, cool vibe, and actually feels alive compared to the rest of the album. If the whole record had that energy, this would be a totally different review.

Time Out is one of those albums that probably blew minds when it dropped — odd time signatures, cool jazz vibe, all that. But listening to it now? It just doesn’t hit the same. I can respect what the Dave Brubeck Quartet was going for, but in my opinion, it just hasn’t stood the test of time. It feels more like background music than something that really grabs you. Technically solid, sure, but there’s not much here that makes me want to come back to it. Maybe it was groundbreaking in its day, but now it mostly just feels dated and kind of flat.

This is one of those albums that you kind of have to be in the right mood for. It’s not a bad listen at all — smooth, spacey, and definitely doing something different from your typical jazz record. For me, Side Two was the standout. The groove settles in better, the playing feels more connected, and it just flows in a way that pulled me in more than the first half did. There’s some real beauty in how minimal and patient the whole thing is. Not something I’d throw on all the time, but a solid listen when you want something low-key and a little out there.

I didn’t really get into Bob Dylan until college, but Blonde on Blonde was one of the albums that pulled me in. It’s packed with the kind of clever, rambling, poetic songwriting that makes you want to dig deeper into his catalog. “Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again” is a personal favorite — somehow over 10 minutes long but never feels it. The lyrics are sharp, the groove is great, and it just rolls. On the flip side, “Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” definitely feels like a 12-minute song. Not bad, just a bit of a slow burn. “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35” is a fun one — goofy, chaotic, and a perfect opener to set the tone. Overall, the album is weird, witty, and way ahead of its time. Not every track hits the same, but there’s more than enough here to understand why this record is such a big deal. Favorite Song: Rainy Day Women #12 & 35

Alanis Morissette completely dominated the 90's with this album. Even though it’s not really my type of music, I gotta admit, there’s no denying the talent here. The songwriting is sharp, emotional, and brutally honest. She brought a raw edge to pop-rock that wasn’t really out there at the time, and you can hear the influence all over later artists. Tracks like “You Oughta Know” and “Ironic” are classics, but even the deeper cuts hit harder than you’d expect. Favorite song: Head Over Feet

This one’s an interesting listen, but I’ve always preferred David Crosby when he was working with The Byrds or CSNY. His solo stuff has some great musicianship and a few cool moments, but a lot of it just kind of floats by without much sticking. The whole album feels mellow and spacey, like you're hanging out in a studio with everyone high and seeing where the instruments take them. It sets a mood, sure, but not one I feel the need to revisit often. It's more of a vibe than a collection of songs I’d go back to.

Once again, indie rock just isn’t for me. I gave this one a fair shot, but it mostly felt like noise with a trendy haircut. Karen O’s vocals bounce between cool and chaotic, but the songs just don’t land. There’s an energy here, sure, but it’s the kind that makes me check how many songs are left. I get why it has a fanbase. It’s loud, raw, and edgy in that early 2000s way. Still, I’ll pass.

This one's a bit all over the place. Some tracks hit hard with those horns and punchy rhythms. Others feel like the band forgot to end the song and just kept noodling around. You can hear the prog rock influence, especially in the longer tracks. It’s not bad, but you need some patience. Luckily, the radio-friendly songs help break things up. They're tight, catchy, and show why Chicago got so big. Favorite Song: I'm a Man Least Favorite Song: Liberation

I’m not exactly sure what I just listened but I can tell you it wasn’t good music. It’s like Sparks threw a bunch of ideas at the wall — falsetto vocals, glam rock riffs, weird theatrical flair — and somehow decided to keep all of them, even the bad ones. The whole thing feels like a joke I wasn’t in on. The songs are all over the place, the vocals are borderline unbearable, and nothing sticks. It’s chaotic in a way that’s more annoying than interesting, like being trapped in a musical written by aliens trying to imitate Earth pop culture.

This album sounds like someone locked a banshee in a cathedral and recorded her trying to remember the lyrics to a song she heard once in a dream. It’s like they handed a reverb pedal a record deal and said, “Go nuts.” I don’t know what language the singer is using—maybe Elvish? Maybe baby talk? Either way, it’s not working. Every track blends together into a swirl of unintelligible wailing and echo-soaked guitar noodles. It's the musical equivalent of trying to read a foggy mirror. I know some folks call this “ethereal.” I call it “unlistenable.” Just awful. No other way to describe it.

This one’s a fun ride. Aqualung manages to be heavy, weird, and somehow classy all at the same time. And let’s be honest, the flute absolutely steals the show. I didn’t know I needed more flute in my rock music until now, but here we are. “Aqualung” and “Locomotive Breath” are the obvious bangers, but the slower, acoustic tracks add some nice balance too. It drags a little in places, but overall, it’s a great mix of grit and prog with a flair that only Jethro Tull could pull off.

Dookie is stacked with pop-punk classics that still hold up decades later. Green Day really found their sweet spot here — catchy hooks, snotty vocals, and just enough angst to soundtrack a teenager slamming the bedroom door. "Welcome to Paradise" might technically be a re-release, but it's still an all-time banger. "Basket Case" takes the top spot for me though — and not just because of the Roll Tide energy. If there’s a weak link, it’s probably “In The End,” which feels more filler than fire. Still, this album helped define a genre, and it earns its four stars easy.

Rain Dogs was straight-up miserable to get through. I know Tom Waits has a cult following and people swear by this album, but honestly? I have no idea why. It sounds like a drunk pirate muttering nonsense over trash can percussion and broken accordions. The whole thing feels like it’s trying way too hard to be weird for the sake of being weird. There’s no flow, no real melody to hang onto — just a mess of clanking sounds and gravelly rambling that made me feel like I was losing my mind. I kept hoping it would turn a corner or give me something to latch onto, but it never happened. Every track just made me more annoyed that I was still listening.

Highway to Hell is straight-up solid classic rock — no frills, no filler, just riffs and attitude. The title track is iconic for a reason, and Bon Scott’s vocals hit that perfect mix of grit and swagger. The whole album is loud, punchy, and built for blasting with the windows down. It’s not as polished as Back in Black, but that’s kind of the point. This is raw, barroom rock at its best. AC/DC knew exactly what lane they were in, and they floored it. Favorite song: If You Want Blood (You Got It)

Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water might be the most early-2000s album title ever, but man, Limp Bizkit delivered. Say what you want about Fred Durst and the band's image, but this album has bangers front to back. “Take a Look Around” is an all-timer — that Mission: Impossible riff hits hard every time. People love to clown on Limp Bizkit, but if you actually listen, there’s a lot to like here. It’s loud, it’s dumb, it’s catchy — and sometimes that’s exactly what you need. Favorite song: Take A Look Around Least Favorite Song: Hold On

Jack Takes the Floor was a nice change of pace from some of the heavier stuff I've been listening to. You can definitely hear how this kind of stripped-down folk could’ve influenced bands like Old Crow Medicine Show. It’s got that raw, rootsy vibe that feels genuine. That said, it’s not something I’d throw on regularly — more of a once-in-a-while listen. Still, I’d take this over most of what passes for modern country any day. Favorite Song - East Texas Talking Blues Least Favorite song - Bed Bug Blues

Never heard of The Auteurs before, so I went into New Wave with no expectations. The first couple of tracks didn’t do much for me, but things started to pick up around “American Guitars,” which had a solid hook. “Don’t Trust the Stars” is another standout, and the strings on “How Could I Be Wrong” add a nice touch of depth. “Idiot Brother” gave off some definite Dylan vibes in the lyrics and delivery, which was a cool surprise. Overall, a mixed bag — some solid songs, a few forgettable ones, but not a bad listen for a band I knew nothing about. Favorite Song: Early Years Least Favorite song: Home Again

Axl might be a dick but Appetite for Destruction is straight-up flawless. This isn’t just a great debut album; it’s one of the greatest rock albums ever recorded. It’s loud, dirty, unhinged, and absolutely bursting with energy from the first riff to the last scream. Guns N’ Roses sounded like a band with nothing to lose and everything to prove — and they proved it in 12 tracks. “Welcome to the Jungle” is a masterclass in opening an album — explosive, menacing, and iconic. “Sweet Child o’ Mine” brought melody and vulnerability without losing any of the band’s grit, and “Paradise City” is a full-blown anthem that somehow gets better the louder you crank it. Then there’s “Nightrain” — a whiskey-soaked, riff-heavy banger that perfectly captures the band’s reckless charm and relentless drive. Even the deep cuts go hard. “Mr. Brownstone,” “My Michelle,” “Rocket Queen” — there’s not a weak moment on the entire album. And let’s not forget Slash’s guitar work, which is nothing short of legendary throughout. Axl may bring the drama, but he also brings the fire. Appetite for Destruction is pure, unfiltered rock and roll — dangerous, unpredictable, and absolutely essential. Favorite song: Nighttrain

I don’t dive into a lot of Aerosmith beyond the greatest hits and whatever blasts while I’m strapped into the Rockin’ Rollercoaster, but Rocks was a pleasant surprise. Gritty, loud, and packed with swagger, it’s got more to offer than just the radio singles. Tracks like “Back in the Saddle” and “Last Child” still hit hard, and the whole album has that raw, bluesy edge that defined their early years. Bonus star just for being part of one of the best rides Disney ever put together. Fast, fun, and loud — just like this album. Favorite song: Rats in the Cellar Least Favorite song: Last Child

Sonic Youth’s Evol has its moments, but they’re buried under a heap of noise and art-school pretension. I get why Kurt Cobain liked them — they were edgy, weird, and doing something different — but different doesn’t always mean good. There are a few catchy songs here that break through the fuzz, but the rest just sort of meanders aimlessly. It’s like they’re trying really hard to be avant-garde but forgot to bring the hooks. Not the worst thing I’ve ever heard, but nowhere near the hype.

I probably wouldn’t have listened to Superfly on my own — but I’m really glad I did. This album is really, really good. Curtis Mayfield’s talent as a songwriter and producer in the ’70s is undeniable, and Superfly is proof of just how prolific and ahead of his time he truly was. There isn’t a single bad song on this album. Every track feels intentional, groove-heavy, and filled with purpose. “Freddie’s Dead” is an absolute banger — funky, haunting, and full of social commentary without ever losing its swagger. But the real standout for me was “Think.” It’s so different from anything else I’ve heard from Curtis — atmospheric, intense, and rhythmically gripping. It shows just how much range he had. Superfly isn’t just a soundtrack — it’s a statement. It captures a moment, elevates it, and still sounds fresh and relevant today. Five stars, no hesitation. Favorite song: Think

Congratulations to Wonderful Rainbow for setting a new low bar. I didn’t think it was possible to make Rain Dogs and Bone Machine sound like masterpieces, but here we are. This isn’t music — it’s what I imagine a blender full of forks sounds like when you drop it down a flight of stairs. If there was any artistic message buried in the feedback and noise, it got completely lost somewhere between my growing headache and the overwhelming urge to throw my speakers out the window. A truly wonderful waste of time.

I went into Traffic not knowing a single thing about the band, but this one really caught me off guard — in a good way. It’s a solid psychedelic rock album from start to finish. Trippy melodies, some jazzy touches, and that late '60s vibe that never gets old. Nothing felt too overdone, and even the weirder moments worked within the overall sound. Definitely one of those albums that makes you wonder why the band isn’t mentioned more in classic rock convos. Favorite track: Pearly Queen

Went into Selling England by the Pound completely blind — not really a Genesis fan — but I was pleasantly surprised. "I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)" was easily the standout for me. I’ve always been a sucker for when bands sneak sitar into Western rock, and it works really well here. That said, “Battle of Epping Forest” lost me. It’s just too long to be doing all those goofy voices — felt like I was trapped in a Renaissance fair skit. Still, as far as prog rock goes, this album makes a pretty strong case for why Genesis is so highly regarded.

Born in the U.S.A. is peak Springsteen — stadium rock anthems, working-class grit, and more synthesizers than you'd expect from the Boss. A lot of his biggest songs are packed into this one album, and even if you're only casually familiar with his music, you'll probably recognize half the tracklist. "Born in the U.S.A." stands out as a favorite — a protest song that somehow still gets played at cookouts like it's pure patriotism. Either way, it's a classic. This album may not be flawless, but it's iconic for a reason.

Automatic for the People is one of those albums I want to like more than I actually do. I get why people love it — it’s moody, introspective, and full of emotion — but I’ve just never been able to get into R.E.M. There are definitely some solid songs here, and I respect the craftsmanship, but it doesn’t do much for me personally. Just not my vibe. Favorite Song: Man on the Moon

Ah yes, I See You — the perfect album if you enjoy whisper-singing over moody elevator music. Once again, The xx delivers their signature blend of emotional detachment and background noise. If you've heard one xx song, you've pretty much heard them all. Still don’t like anything by this band, but hey — at least they’re consistent.

Different Class is a big step up from This Is Hardcore. It’s got way more energy and better hooks all around. I liked several of the tracks — they’re catchy without being too polished, and Jarvis Cocker’s lyrics are clever in a weird, voyeuristic kind of way. “I Spy” stood out in particular — felt very Pink Floyd-esque with its slow build and moody tension. Not something I expected from Pulp, but it totally worked. Overall, a solid Britpop album with some real high points. Favorite Song: Common People

Led Zeppelin IV is the band’s magnum opus — the perfect storm of power, precision, and musical ambition. From the very first snarling riff of “Black Dog,” this album goes hard, pulling no punches and wasting no time. It doesn’t even think about slowing down until the third track, and by then, you’re already all in. For 20 years, “Black Dog” has been my personal favorite — a snarling, swaggering beast of a song with that iconic call-and-response between Robert Plant and Jimmy Page. It’s the ultimate opener, setting the tone for an album that doesn’t stick to one lane. Zeppelin stretches out across genres like it’s nothing — from the bluesy stomp of “Rock and Roll” to the mystical folk of “The Battle of Evermore,” the prog-leaning grandeur of “Stairway to Heaven,” and the backwoods groove of “Going to California.” Every member is in peak form here — Page’s riffs, Bonham’s thunderous drumming, Jones’s subtle but essential textures, and Plant’s golden god vocals. IV is proof that Led Zeppelin could do it all — and do it better than anyone else. It’s not just one of their best albums. It’s one of the greatest rock albums ever. A towering achievement that still sounds massive decades later.

I recognized "Roundabout" right away — that bassline and guitar work are iconic. Easily the standout track and probably the reason most people know the album. The rest of Fragile is kind of a journey, but not always one I wanted to take. It’s like they had a contest to see who could cram the most technical stuff into a single song. Don’t get me wrong — the musicianship is next level. You can tell every member of Yes is insanely talented. But some of the tracks just feel like prog rock for prog rock’s sake

No doubt 2Pac is one of the greatest to ever do it, but Me Against the World didn’t hit as hard for me as some of his other work. There’s a lot of introspection and emotional depth here, which I respect, but the overall vibe just didn’t stick with me like All Eyez on Me or Makaveli. Still, tracks like “Dear Mama” are classics, and the album has its moments. It’s a solid record, just not my favorite in his discography. Favorite song: Death Around The Corner

Seventeen Seconds is moody, atmospheric, and a solid early entry into the goth rock scene—but if I’m being honest, I’ve always preferred The Smiths when it comes to gloomy British music. The Cure leans heavier into the brooding and minimalism here, which is fine, but a lot of the songs tend to blend together after a while. There’s definitely a vibe, and tracks like “A Forest” stand out for a reason, but overall, it didn’t leave a huge impression. Not bad, just not my go-to when I’m in the mood for this genre. Favorite song: Seventeen Seconds

Doggystyle is peak early 90s West Coast rap. The production is smooth as hell—classic G-funk courtesy of Dr. Dre—and Snoop Dogg’s laid-back delivery just glides over every beat. It's the kind of album that sounds just as good cruising with the windows down today as it did in '93. The skits sprinkled throughout the album are hilarious and somehow don’t feel like filler, which is rare. They actually help with the pacing and vibe. Tracks like “Gin and Juice,” “Who Am I (What’s My Name?),” and “Tha Shiznit” are obvious standouts, but even the deeper cuts stay strong. It’s a perfect mix of gritty storytelling, party tracks, and straight-up swagger. This was Snoop at his hungriest and most creative. Favorite song: Lodi Dodi

As a big fan of psychedelic rock, I thought I'd be all over Ogden's Nut Gone Flake—but nah. This one just didn’t hit for me. The concept is weird in a not-fun way, and the whole thing felt more gimmicky than groovy. That spoken-word fairy tale stuff in the second half? Borderline unbearable. I get that the Small Faces were trying something different here, but it didn’t land. It has a few cool musical moments, but most of the time I felt like I was waiting for it to be over. One of the few psychedelic rock albums I don’t see myself revisiting.

The Wildest! definitely lives up to its name—it’s all over the place in the best kind of way. Louis Prima’s chaotic energy and big band flair give it that old Vegas lounge feel, and for some reason, it instantly made me think of the Fallout game series. Maybe it's the retro, swingin’ vibe or the way it sounds like something blasting from a rusty radio in the post-apocalypse. It’s fun, it’s loud, and it’s got personality. Not something I’d play all the time, but it was a good time while it lasted. Favorite song: "Jump, Jive, an' Wail"

Well, that was weird. Another Green World felt like the musical equivalent of staring at abstract art and wondering if you’re just not smart enough to get it. That said, “Everything Merges With the Night” was actually really good—beautiful, even. If the rest of the album had followed that vibe, I might’ve enjoyed it more. Instead, most of it just sounded like background music for a sci-fi film where nothing happens.

Here we go—early 2000s pop in full force. Justified feels more like a time capsule than a must-hear album. I’m honestly baffled as to why this made it onto any "albums to hear before you die" list unless it’s just to appreciate how far we've come. I’ll give it some credit: “Nothin’ Else” has a nice little 60s soul vibe that actually worked. But then you’ve got “Never Again,” which lives up to its name—because I genuinely hope I never have to hear it again. Ever.

If you're a Metallica fan, S&M is an absolute masterpiece — a perfect fusion of metal and orchestral grandeur that showcases the band at their most ambitious and, frankly, James at his vocal peak. His delivery throughout this live performance is powerful, controlled, and emotionally charged in a way that elevates the entire experience. I still get chills listening to the opening with “Ecstasy of Gold” — it’s the perfect way to get pumped for any Metallica show. That buildup, that energy — it never gets old. It sets the stage like no other, and by the time the band kicks in with the orchestra behind them, it’s full-body goosebumps. And then there’s “No Leaf Clover.” Hands down their best deep cut for a live show — and it’s not even close. The dynamic shift between clean verses and the explosive chorus, all layered with that cinematic orchestration, makes it one of the most unique and powerful tracks in their catalog. It’s a crime it doesn’t show up more in regular setlists. I tried to go to S&M2 six years ago and couldn’t get tickets, and listening to this only deepens that regret. S&M isn’t just a live album — it’s a statement of how far metal can go when it’s pushed beyond its boundaries. Favorite song: No Leaf Clover

Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots is... fine. It's quirky, weird, and sonically creative—but also very, very indie rock, which isn't exactly a selling point for me. The Flaming Lips definitely have a unique sound, and I can respect the ambition here, even if it’s not something I’d ever go out of my way to listen to again. Points for originality and the occasional cool instrumental moment. But overall, it just reinforces that me and indie rock are not meant to be.

Goodbye and Hello sounds like what happens when mediocre folk music takes a wrong turn into a head shop and never comes back out. It's like someone said, “What if we combined the most pretentious parts of ‘60s poetry with the most chaotic parts of psychedelic experimentation?” and everyone else in the room just nodded instead of calling the police. There’s talent here somewhere, buried under layers of overambitious arrangements and lyrical rambling. But mostly, it feels like you're stuck in a Renaissance Faire where everyone's really into incense and existential dread.

Dennis Dias didn’t have to go that hard with the electric sitar solo on “Do It Again,” but he did—and honestly, we’re all better off because of it. Can’t Buy a Thrill kicks off strong and rarely lets up. “Only a Fool Would Say That” was a surprise standout, and of course, “Reelin’ In The Years” is still an all-time banger with one of the best guitar solos of the '70s. Steely Dan really came out swinging with their debut—smooth, sharp, and way cooler than it has any right to be. Favorite song: Reelin In The Years

I’m not the biggest James Brown fan, but I’ve got to give credit where it’s due—his energy on Live at the Apollo is off the charts. The crowd’s hype, the band is tight, and James Brown clearly knew how to put on a show. That said, it didn’t totally pull me in. The performance is impressive, but if you're not already a fan of his style, it might wear a little thin. Still, a historic live recording that helped shape soul and funk.

I’m a fan of early 90s rap, and this album definitely brings that classic sound—with hard beats, battle-ready bars, and a confident delivery. But LL Cool J just isn’t really my guy. “Mama Said Knock You Out” is a legendary track and still hits hard, but beyond that, most of the album didn’t leave a lasting impression. Solid for what it is, just not something I’d come back to often.

Hunting High and Low is peak 80s synth-pop, for better or worse. "Take On Me" is obviously the standout, but thanks to Family Guy, it's impossible to take seriously anymore—and maybe that’s okay. The first half of the album kind of dragged, aside from the iconic opener. But I was surprised by how much I liked the second half. It had more depth and atmosphere than I expected. Not something I’d listen to all the time, but definitely worth a spin for a dose of 80s nostalgia. Favorite song: Take On Me

Axis: Bold as Love is a dazzling, kaleidoscopic journey that proves Jimi Hendrix wasn’t just a guitar god — he was a visionary songwriter and sonic architect. Coming off the raw power of Are You Experienced, this album dives deeper into color, emotion, and imagination, showing Hendrix and the Experience expanding their sound in every direction without losing their edge. “Spanish Castle Magic” kicks the door open with grinding riffs and a psychedelic swagger that grabs you instantly. “If 6 Was 9” is defiant and weird in the best way — Hendrix’s anthem for the outsiders, full of fuzzed-out rebellion and cosmic cool. “Castles Made of Sand” is one of his most poignant, poetic tracks — delicate, tragic, and deeply human, showing his storytelling at its most refined. Then there’s “Bold as Love”, the perfect closer — a swirling, majestic finale that ends the album in a blaze of feedback and feeling. It’s Hendrix painting with sound, turning emotion into melody and distortion. Axis: Bold as Love isn’t just about guitar fireworks — though there are plenty. It’s about mood, texture, and depth. A true masterpiece that proves Hendrix could do everything, and make it all sound effortless. Favorite song: "Castles Made of Sand"

The Ramones' debut album is a punch to the face in the best way possible. Fast, loud, and stripped down to the essentials, this is the record that kicked the door open for punk rock. No solos, no filler, no nonsense — just raw energy and attitude. This was one of the bands that got me into punk, and this album still holds up as one of the genre’s blueprints. “Blitzkrieg Bop” is the anthem, no question — simple, catchy, and impossible not to shout along to. “Judy Is a Punk” flies by in under two minutes but leaves a lasting mark, and “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” shows they could slow it down and still keep it cool. Then there's “Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue” — pure chaos, pure punk, and somehow totally relatable in its own ridiculous way. Favorite song: Blitzkrieg Bop

There was a time when Southern rap ruled the radio, and Stankonia was the soundtrack. OutKast didn’t just drop hits — they changed the whole vibe of rap in the late 90s and early 2000s. This album is loud, weird, smart, and way ahead of its time. It’s peak OutKast, and it still sounds just as good now. There are a bunch of guest features throughout the album, and every one of them fits right in. No one steals the spotlight from André 3000 and Big Boi, though. They’re both locked in, trading wild flows and clever lines like it’s effortless. “Gasoline Dreams” kicks things off with a ton of energy. “Ms. Jackson” is the classic — emotional and catchy, and somehow still not overplayed. “So Fresh, So Clean” is pure cool, and “B.O.B.” is just insane. That beat is lightning fast and still gets me hyped. I used to jam out to it playing Mat Hoffman’s Pro BMX on my PlayStation, and it made both the song and the game even better. Favorite song: BOB

I can appreciate the cultural importance of Immigrés and what Youssou N'Dour represents, but musically, this just didn’t do much for me. The rhythms were interesting at first, but the album quickly started to feel repetitive, and I found myself zoning out more than vibing. Maybe it's one of those “you had to be there” albums—or at least understand the lyrics. I respect what he was trying to do, but overall, it didn’t connect with me.

Either/Or? More like Either/Nor. This album is like if someone whispered their feelings into a tin can and called it lo-fi brilliance. I get that Elliott Smith was going for raw and emotional, but somewhere between the barely-there vocals and the lullaby-level energy, I almost forgot I was listening to music and not the sound of someone sighing in the next room. Sure, it’s introspective, but so is staring at a beige wall. Two stars because I respect sad guy guitar music in theory—but this one just bored me to tears.

I had no idea Frank Black was the lead singer of the Pixies, but knowing that now makes this album click a bit more. Teenager of the Year is packed with quirky lyrics, off-kilter melodies, and that signature rawness you'd expect from someone with Pixies roots. There are definitely some solid moments scattered throughout, but it’s a long album and not everything lands. Some songs feel a bit like filler, while others are surprisingly catchy and fun. It’s worth a listen for fans of alt-rock weirdness, but it didn’t quite blow me away.

Everything Must Go isn’t a great album, but it’s not unlistenable either. It just feels like Steely Dan running on cruise control—clean, polished, but kind of forgettable. The jazz-rock fusion is still there, but the spark is a little dimmer than on their classic albums. “Everything Must Go” as a concept sounds promising, but most of the tracks blur together. The one that stood out to me was “Australia”—catchier and with a bit more energy. Overall, it’s fine background music, but not one I’ll be coming back to often. Favorite song: Australia

At Mr. Kelly’s is a great live showcase of Sarah Vaughan’s insane vocal talent. She sounds effortless up there—like she could sing the phone book and still make it swing. Her tone, phrasing, and control are just on another level. It’s a stripped-down setting, but that only highlights how powerful and smooth her voice is. You get the sense that the audience knew they were witnessing something special. Easily one of the best live jazz vocal albums out there. Man, she was really talented.

Stardust is a great example of Willie Nelson doing what he does best—making any song his own. It’s pretty cool to hear his laid-back, soulful take on classic pop standards like “Georgia on My Mind” and “Blue Skies.” His phrasing and delivery are so relaxed it feels like he’s singing just for you on a porch somewhere with a glass of something strong in hand. The arrangements are stripped down, but that’s part of the charm—nothing gets in the way of Willie’s voice or the emotion behind each lyric. It’s not your typical country record, but it works surprisingly well. You can tell this was a passion project, and it’s one of those albums that grows on you the more you listen. A solid, timeless listen front to back.

Teen Dream was definitely an interesting listen, but it just wasn’t for me. The dreamy, atmospheric vibe is cool in small doses, but the whole album started to blend together after a while. I can see why some people are into it—it’s well-produced and has a unique sound—but personally, it didn’t really grab me or make me want to come back for more. Just not my style.

Psalm 69 is industrial metal at its absolute peak. Ministry found the perfect mix of heavy guitars, pounding drums, and mechanical chaos — and made it all work together. The sound is loud, aggressive, and completely in your face from the start. “Jesus Built My Hot Rod” is pure madness in the best way. It’s fast, noisy, and full of wild energy. You can barely keep up — and that’s the point. Then there’s “Just One Fix,” which hits hard with a dark, pulsing groove and razor-sharp riffs. It’s heavy, it’s angry, and it doesn’t let up. Every track on this album feels like it was made to push limits. The mix of metal and industrial noise is raw but controlled, and the energy never drops. This isn’t background music — it’s something you feel when you listen to it. Favorite song: Just One Fix

Live at Leeds is often called the greatest live rock album of all time, and while I get why some fans feel that way, it just didn’t blow me away. The energy is raw, the playing is tight, and The Who definitely bring some fire to the stage. You can hear how much fun they’re having with the extended jams and the heavier, rougher versions of their studio tracks. But for someone who isn’t a massive Who fan, it didn’t quite hit the same. It’s not bad by any means—it’s a solid live album with some standout moments—but overall, it just felt like a decent recording of a good show. Not quite legendary status in my book, but I can respect why it’s so highly regarded.

Odessa is peak pre-disco Bee Gees—dramatic, orchestral, and full of ambitious songwriting. Before they were ruling the dance floor, they were crafting moody, baroque pop epics like this. The title track sets the tone with its haunting strings, and the rest of the album keeps that grand, melancholic vibe rolling. It’s definitely a weird one, but in the best way. Proof that the Bee Gees were more than just falsettos and gold chains. Favorite song: I Laugh In Your Face

Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963 is raw, electric, and full of soul. Sam Cooke didn’t just perform—he commanded the room. The energy in this set is miles away from his polished studio recordings, and that’s what makes it so good. The crowd is into it, Sam is giving it everything, and it’s clear he knew how to work a room. RIP to one of the greatest voices in music history. This live album is a reminder of how powerful and dynamic he really was. Favorite song: Nothing Can Change This Love

urf’s Up was a surprise for me—I didn’t recognize most of the songs going in, but I ended up really enjoying it. You can definitely hear the Pet Sounds influence in the arrangements and harmonies. It’s moody, reflective, and has that emotional depth that the Beach Boys started leaning into during their later years. It’s not their best work overall, but tracks like “’Til I Die” and the title track really stood out. The album has a more mature, melancholic vibe than their early stuff, and I appreciated the shift. Definitely worth a listen if you're a fan of their more introspective era.. Favorite song: Student Demonstration Time

Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) is raw, gritty, and iconic. Wu-Tang Clan really came in swinging and proved they were absolutely nothing to f*** with. The beats are dusty and menacing, the verses are sharp, and the personalities are larger than life. It’s like getting mugged by a group of lyrical ninjas in a Shaolin dojo—and honestly, you kind of enjoy it. Standout tracks like “C.R.E.A.M.,” “Protect Ya Neck,” and “Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthing ta F’ Wit” are untouchable. RZA’s production is dark and stripped down, giving the MCs all the room they need to go off—and they do. Not every track hits equally, but when it does, it really does. It’s chaotic, sometimes messy, but that’s part of the charm. A must-listen for any hip-hop fan, and a strong 4 stars for one of the most influential rap albums ever made. Favorite song: Wu-Tang Clain Ain't Nuthing ta F' Wit

This has beautiful harmonies, no doubt, but after a few tracks it just started to feel like I was stuck in the intro of The Lion King for 40 minutes. Peaceful? Sure. Memorable? Not really. It’s not bad music—it just didn’t hold my attention. I appreciate the cultural importance, but it’s not something I’d revisit.

I have no idea what they were saying on Music in Exile—but honestly, who cares when the music slaps this hard? The grooves are tight, the rhythm section is on point, and every track pulls you in whether you understand the lyrics or not. It’s one of those albums that proves you don’t need to speak the language to feel the vibe. Great energy, great musicianship, and a sound that sticks with you. Favorite song: Soubour

I get that Zombie is a culturally important album, and I respect Fela Kuti's influence—but this just wasn’t for me. The groove is there, sure, but the songs drag on forever with not a whole lot of variation. If you're really into Afrobeat or political protest music, this might hit harder. But for a casual listener like me, it felt more like background noise than something I’d actively want to play again.

Madonna’s Music didn’t do a whole lot for me, but I’ll give it credit where it’s due—“Runaway Lover” was a legit highlight. Maybe I’ve got a soft spot for early 2000s EDM vibes after all. The rest of the album felt a bit dated, and not in a fun nostalgic way. More like a reminder of when auto-tune started taking over pop music and everyone thought it sounded futuristic. Not terrible, but not something I’d revisit often.

Cross by Justice was a fun surprise. After calling out an EDM track as my favorite yesterday, the algorithm must’ve read my mind and hit me with a full album of it. And honestly? Not mad about it. This thing is loud, glitchy, funky, and somehow still smooth. Tracks like “D.A.N.C.E.” and “Genesis” are absolute standouts, and even the deeper cuts keep the energy going without feeling repetitive. It's like Daft Punk’s gritty little cousin rolled in neon. Good album all around. Favorite song: Phantom

3 Years, 5 Months and 2 Days in the Life Of... has a chill, jazzy vibe that definitely reminds me of A Tribe Called Quest — just not quite as polished or memorable. The positive messages are cool, and there’s no denying Arrested Development had a unique sound when this came out. But overall, the album feels a little uneven and hasn’t aged as well as some of its early ‘90s hip hop peers. Still, a solid listen if you're into conscious rap with a laid-back flow. That said, tracks like “Tennessee” and “Mr. Wendal” still hold up and offer a nice dose of nostalgia. It’s clear they were trying to do something different in a genre that was heading in a more aggressive direction, and I respect that. I just wish the rest of the album packed the same punch those standout songs did.

All Directions is a strong showing from The Temptations during their psychedelic soul phase. “Run Charlie Run” is catchy with a biting social commentary that still feels relevant, and their version of “Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone” is nothing short of legendary — the atmosphere, the groove, that iconic bassline. It’s a slow burn that totally pays off. The rest of the album doesn’t quite hit the same highs, but there’s still plenty of solid material here. It’s a bold, experimental record that shows just how much The Temptations evolved from their earlier Motown days. Definitely worth a listen if you want to hear a group pushing their sound in new directions. Favorite song: Papa Was a Rollin Stone

Illmatic goes hard for a debut album. Nas showed up with top-tier bars, killer flow, and production that still sounds great today. “N.Y. State of Mind” and “The World Is Yours” hit especially hard, and the whole thing is tight with no filler. It’s not something I play on repeat, but you gotta respect the craftsmanship. Solid 4 stars. Favorite song: "The World Is Yours"

Classic Loretta Lynn — raw, bold, and not afraid to call it like she sees it. Her husband must’ve been a real piece of work, because the frustration and sass in these songs feel very personal. The title track is the clear standout, and while the rest of the album doesn’t quite reach the same level, it still packs plenty of attitude.

Ready to Die is a solid example of early '90s rap, and I get why it’s considered a classic. But personally, I’ve never been a huge Biggie fan. Some of the tracks hit hard, but the album as a whole just feels a little too long. The skits especially drag things down — they’re more distracting than entertaining. There are definitely some strong moments, but for me, it doesn’t quite live up to the hype from start to finish. Favorite song: Big Poppa

Never heard of Klaxons before this, but Myths of the Near Future really surprised me. I went in totally blind and came out a fan. It’s chaotic in a good way — like a mix of indie rock, dance punk, and some weird cosmic energy. The whole thing has a raw, energetic vibe that keeps it interesting from start to finish. The songs bleed into each other with a kind of manic cohesion that somehow works. It’s not something I’d normally seek out, but I’m glad I gave it a shot — definitely a hidden gem. Favorite song: Two Receivers.

I’ve always enjoyed Dion’s doo-wop era, so I was curious to hear Born to Be with You. It’s interesting that this one got rediscovered in the ’90s and picked up a cult following — probably more for its backstory than the music itself. For me, it was fine. Nothing particularly stood out, but it wasn’t bad either. Just kind of… there. I’ll bump it up a star out of respect for his earlier work and the fact that some of those older tracks found a second life in Fallout. Favorite song: "Your Own Back Yard"

Raw, loud, and sloppy in all the right ways — The Stooges is one of the great progenitors of punk rock. Iggy Pop’s unhinged vocals and the band’s garage rock chaos laid the groundwork for a whole movement. "I Wanna Be Your Dog" is still an absolute beast of a track. It’s not polished, and that’s the whole point. This album didn’t care about being perfect — it just wanted to make noise and leave a mark. Mission accomplished. Favorite song: I Wanna Be Your Dog

Morrison Hotel is a return to form for The Doors. Jim Morrison might’ve been a wild card, but he was also one of the great songwriters of the 20th century, and it really shows here. The album leans more into blues rock, and the band sounds tighter and more grounded than on some of their previous work. “Roadhouse Blues” is a classic, and the rest of the album holds its own with gritty vocals, strong riffs, and that signature Doors vibe. Favorite song: Roadhouse Blues

With The Beatles isn’t my favorite Beatles album, but you can definitely hear them starting to come into their own. Their original songs are stronger here than on Please Please Me, and even the cover songs—though not what you'd call essential listening today—are still well done and full of energy. It’s a solid early effort that shows the band leveling up and hinting at what’s to come.

Ray Charles is undeniably one of the greats, but The Genius of Ray Charles leans a little too hard into the Big Band sound for my taste. The arrangements feel a bit dated, and while his talent shines through, this earlier work doesn't quite hit the same as his later, more stripped-down stuff. It's got its moments, but overall, it’s not something I’d come back to often. More historical appreciation than personal enjoyment. Favorite song: Let The Good Times Roll

I saw "psychedelic pop" and thought I was in for something trippy and rock-influenced—maybe even a little mind-bending. Instead, Oracular Spectacular felt more like a synthy indie-pop mixtape with a few catchy hooks. I recognized "Time to Pretend" and "Electric Feel," but beyond that, it just didn’t hit. If you're expecting anything close to actual psychedelic rock, this isn’t it.

Well, Bummed sure is a fitting title — because that’s exactly how I felt after sitting through it. It’s like someone mashed up a bunch of half-baked ideas, added some chaotic energy, and said, “Good enough.” Most of the album sounds like a group of people arguing over what genre they're trying to be while tripping on something questionable. “Lazyitis” was the one moment I actually thought, Hey, maybe they know what they’re doing. But then it was right back to the mess.

Aja is smooth, polished, and full of that signature Steely Dan precision — maybe too much of it. It’s technically impressive, no doubt, but it doesn’t hit the same for me as some of their other albums. That said, “Deacon Blues” is an absolute banger and easily the standout track here. The rest kind of blends together into a well-produced, jazz-tinged blur. Not bad, just not their best.

Only By The Night is peak late 2000s alt rock, for better or worse. Back then, you couldn’t escape “Sex On Fire” or “Use Somebody” — they were everywhere. Listening again now, it’s not terrible, just not really my thing. I’ve never been big on 2000s alt rock, and this album didn’t change that. That said, the bass line on “Use Somebody” hits different in headphones — easily the highlight for me. Favorite song: "Use Somebody"

This is one of those albums that just keeps getting better the deeper you go — and honestly, some of the best tracks never even hit the radio. Everyone remembers “Hey Ya!” and “The Way You Move,” but it's the deeper cuts that really show how ahead of their time Outkast was. The guest features are stacked: Jay-Z, Lil Jon, Ludacris — the early 2000s rap dream team — and each brings a different kind of energy that makes this double album feel like two unique worlds that somehow still work perfectly together. It even edges out Stankonia for me. Favorite song: Church

Siembra kind of gave me flashbacks to playing the Tropico games — laid-back, tropical vibes with a political edge hiding underneath. The mix of salsa, funk, and commentary works well, and the musicianship is solid. It’s got a smooth, chill sound that makes for great background music, even if it didn’t completely blow me away. Definitely a cool listen, just not something I’d keep on heavy rotation.

If Siembra is a party, Kenya is the awkward cousin standing in the corner trying to groove but missing the beat. Sure, the musicians can play, but the whole thing feels flat and lifeless. It’s like they followed a recipe and still somehow made it bland. Not the worst thing I’ve ever heard, but I wouldn’t put it on again unless someone dared me.

Doolittle is a solid album and you can definitely hear how much it influenced Nirvana and a ton of other '90s alternative bands. It's chaotic in the best way—loud, weird, catchy, and full of energy. The quiet-loud-quiet dynamic the Pixies leaned into helped define a generation of rock music. Songs like “Debaser” and “Monkey Gone to Heaven” are standouts, but even the deeper cuts have their charm. Not every track is a hit, but the album’s raw edge and offbeat personality keep it interesting all the way through. Favorite song: Wave of Mutilation

Blood on the Tracks is one of the better Dylan albums I've listened to—and I say that as someone who already considers himself a Dylan fan. I knew a handful of the songs going in, but this was my first time hearing the full album start to finish. It’s raw, emotional, and lyrically sharp in that classic Dylan way. There’s a depth here that sticks with you, and even the songs I hadn’t heard before hit hard. Solid listen all the way through. Favorite Song: Idiot Wind

The Köln Concert might be legendary in jazz circles, but to me it just sounded like any other piano recital. Sure, it’s technically impressive and has its moments, but overall, it was just decent background music. Nothing I’d actively throw on or revisit. I get why some people love it, but it didn’t do much for me beyond filling the silence.

I found this pretty boring. It kind of just drifted by without anything really grabbing me. The production is clean and the harmonies are nice, but the songs all sort of blended together into one long, sleepy listen. Maybe it’s meant to be more of a mood album, but for me, it just didn’t leave much of an impression.

Tracy Chapman’s debut album is a powerful mix of soul, folk, and social commentary. Her alto voice is warm and steady — the kind of voice that instantly pulls you in. I grew up hearing “Fast Car” constantly on the radio, and even though it’s the big hit, the rest of the album proves she’s far from a one-song wonder. “Behind the Wall” is a chilling a cappella track that still gives me goosebumps, and “Why?” keeps that thread of activism going with some biting questions about injustice. There are several really strong songs here, both musically and lyrically. It’s a thoughtful, emotional album that holds up decades later. Favorite song: "Fast Car"

De-Loused in the Comatorium is... fine, I guess. For all the hype it gets, it mostly just sounds like another early 2000s alt-rock album with some extra weirdness thrown in for effect. It’s not bad — there are moments of interesting musicianship and atmosphere — but it didn’t really grab me or leave much of a lasting impression. Definitely not the mind-blowing experience some fans make it out to be. Just kinda meh.

Permission to Land is a loud, fun, and totally over-the-top rock album. I remember when “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” was everywhere, but I never paid attention to who the band was. This was my first time hearing The Darkness — and now I’m wondering what took me so long. The hit single is great, but honestly, it’s not even the third or fourth best song here. This whole album is packed with high-energy rock that sounds like it came straight out of the ’80s — and I mean that in the best way. You can hear the Brian May and Angus Young influence in the guitars, and the singer’s voice is wild — powerful and full of range, just like the best glam rock frontmen. My favorite song is “Givin’ Up.” It’s got killer riffs, a catchy chorus, and the kind of energy that makes you want to play it on repeat. From start to finish, the album is just fun. No filler, no slow parts — just pure rock and roll.

I know Bowie is considered one of the all-time greats, but Young Americans just didn’t do it for me. I can respect the shift into “plastic soul” and how experimental this was for him, but most of it felt flat. “Fame” is alright — probably the only track I’d revisit — but the rest just kind of blends together in a way that didn’t stick. And I have to dock a star for his version of “Across the Universe.” Some things are better left untouched, and that cover didn’t do Lennon/McCartney any favors.

This album is as dumb as the singer's fake female alto. It's like an overlong experimental art piece that forgot to include the "music" part. The songs dragged, the pacing was all over the place, and the whole thing felt like it was trying way too hard to be profound. The lone bright spots? “What Can I Do?” and “Spiralling” — and let’s be honest, that’s entirely thanks to Rufus Wainwright and Devendra Banhart showing up to briefly salvage the mess.

Didn’t really give SZA a shot until recently, but CTRL changed that. Her vocals are smooth, emotional, and totally unique. For a debut album, this is seriously impressive—especially with standout features like Travis Scott and Kendrick Lamar adding extra fire. The production is clean, the vibe is consistent, and she balances vulnerability and confidence effortlessly. Solid listen from start to finish. Favorite song: "Doves In The Wind"

Music for the Masses is peak '80s in the best way. Synth-heavy, moody, and dramatic without feeling overdone. Depeche Mode really found their groove here—way more compelling than that a-ha album I suffered through last month. Standouts like “Strangelove” and “Never Let Me Down Again” still hold up today. It’s dark, danceable, and deserves the praise. Favorite Song: "Behind The Wheel"

Tea for the Tillerman is… fine. Not bad, not great. Just a solid “meh” from start to finish. Cat Stevens has a nice voice and there’s some solid songwriting here, but nothing really grabbed me or made me want to hit repeat. It's one of those albums that’s easy to listen to but even easier to forget Favorite song: "Father and Son"

Ghosteen is a snoozefest of epic proportions. It’s like Nick Cave set out to make a more depressing, slower, and somehow less engaging version of Leonard Cohen’s You Want It Darker — and totally missed the mark. The whole thing just drags on in a haze of whispery musings and ambient filler. Good thing I was mowing the lawn while listening or I’d have passed out. Easily one of the most lifeless albums I’ve sat through.

Two days in a row of albums that make watching paint dry feel thrilling. Rejoicing in the Hands was a snoozefest from start to finish. Whispery vocals, meandering melodies, and absolutely zero moments that made me want to hit replay — or even keep listening. If this is what rejoicing sounds like, I’d rather sit in silence. Hard pass.

Elvis might be the King of Rock and Roll, but let’s be honest — he was more of a singles guy than an album artist. This debut has its moments, sure, but most of it doesn’t hold up all that well today. That said, “Tutti Frutti” and “Blue Suede Shoes” still pack a punch, and his version of “Blue Moon” is surprisingly solid. Credit where it’s due — he helped bring Black music to a wider (and whiter) audience, even if that’s a complicated legacy. At the time, this might’ve been groundbreaking. Now, it’s mostly a history lesson

Went into Idlewild expecting more synth-pop and was fully braced for disappointment — so being pleasantly surprised definitely helped boost this one. Tracey Thorn’s voice is a real standout, and Ben Watt’s guitar playing had this warm, melodic quality that honestly reminded me a bit of George Harrison’s 1979 solo work. “Apron Strings” hit me hard — not just emotionally, but musically too. That acoustic line gave me “In My Life” vibes in the best way. Not likely an album that I'd listen to again save for a few songs but I'm still going to give it 4 stars instead of 3.

Still not a Kings of Leon fan after Aha Shake Heartbreak. Most of it just felt like run-of-the-mill early 2000s alt rock — nothing that really stood out or made me want to revisit it. The lone bright spot was “The Bucket,” which actually had a solid hook and some energy. Other than that, it kind of blurred together. The lone bright spot was "Bucket"

The Dude may hate the Eagles, but their debut album is actually pretty good. “Take It Easy” is an all-time banger and a hell of a way to kick things off — just pure good vibes and great harmonies. The first half of the album is super solid, though it does taper off a bit on the back end. Still, “Chug All Night” was a nice surprise I hadn’t heard before and ended up really liking it. All in all, not a perfect album, but a strong debut and a good listen front to back. Favorite Song: "Take It Easy"

Today I learned that basically every Rush song I know is on Moving Pictures. “Tom Sawyer,” “Limelight,” “YYZ” — all bangers, all on the same album. This one’s packed with tight musicianship, weird time signatures, and just enough nerdy charm to make it work. I’m not the world’s biggest Rush fan, but even I have to admit this album slaps. Favorite song: “Red Barchetta”

Talking Timbuktu didn’t do much for me overall — kind of boring, to be honest. That said, it did make for a pretty relaxing soundtrack on a long road trip. It’s chill background music, but not something I’d actively choose to listen to again.

I’ve always been a fan of The Byrds, but Younger Than Yesterday wasn’t one I was super familiar with outside of “My Back Pages.” That said, it’s a solid album that shows the band branching out a bit. Chris Hillman really steps up here with multiple writing credits, and you can start to hear the early seeds of what would become the Flying Burrito Brothers. The country-rock influence is creeping in, blending nicely with their signature jangle-pop and psychedelic touches. It might not be their most iconic record, but it’s a strong, underrated piece of the Byrds’ evolution. Favorite Song: "So You Want To Be a Rock 'n' Roll Star"

Crime of the Century sounds like your standard issue 70s rock album — well-produced, decent musicianship, but nothing that really jumps out or sticks with you. It’s not bad by any means, just kind of... there. If you’re a big Supertramp fan, I’m sure it hits differently, but for me, it just blended in with a lot of other albums from the era.

There was a time when I was all about some ZZ Top — but that time has come and gone. Eliminator definitely has a few catchy tracks and some iconic synth-guitar grooves, but nothing on here really hits “great” status for me anymore. It’s fun in a nostalgic, radio-hit kind of way, but not something I find myself going back to often. Favorite song: "Sharp Dressed Man"

Oasis was everywhere when I was younger, but I didn’t really get into them until the past couple of years — and Definitely Maybe was a great place to start. For a debut album, it’s solid from front to back. The Gallagher brothers were clearly onto something early on — full of swagger, hooks, and that raw Britpop energy. You can feel the attitude in every track, and honestly, it holds up really well. Favorite song: "Cigarettes & Alcohol"

This is an album that swings between brilliance and chaos, often landing in the latter. While the band’s signature fusion of Irish folk and punk energy is still intact, much of the album feels uneven and unfocused. Shane MacGowan's slurred delivery, while charming in doses, wears thin across an album that lacks the cohesion or spark of their earlier work. The production can be muddy, the pacing erratic, and too many tracks feel like filler rather than folk-punk fire. That said, "Fairytale of New York" is the clear standout — a bittersweet, beautifully messy duet that captures everything the band is capable of when they hit the mark. Unfortunately, it’s the rare gem in a collection that otherwise struggles to leave a lasting impression. Favorite song: Fairytale of New York"

I do enjoy some Deep Purple, but their self-titled debut isn’t quite on the same level as what came later. That said, it’s still a solid listen, especially when you remember it’s their first crack at it. You can hear the pieces starting to come together — the organ-heavy sound, the mix of hard rock and psych — but it doesn’t hit as hard as Machine Head or In Rock. Still, it’s got charm, some cool moments, and the foundation of a band that would go on to be legends. Favorite song: "Flight of the Rat"

Actually by the Pet Shop Boys is a synth-pop slog. "What Have I Done To Deserve This?" is what everyone is asking after they have to listen to this album. There’s not really a standout track to save it. Everything blends into one long, overly polished, emotionally flat ride through the most sterile parts of the ‘80s. It’s background music for a scene in a movie you forgot you watched.

Look, I get that Shaft is iconic as a movie — but having the soundtrack show up on an all-time albums list feels like a stretch. Aside from the theme song (which is admittedly catchy in a kitschy way), the rest plays out like background music you'd hear in an elevator that thinks it’s cooler than it is. It’s fine if you’re throwing a 70s-themed party, but for everyday listening? Hard pass.

Parachutes is a solid, if somewhat sleepy, debut from Coldplay. The first half of the album takes its time finding momentum — with the notable exception of "Shiver," which injects some much-needed urgency early on. Chris Martin's vocals are emotive, but several of the early tracks blur together in a haze of acoustic melancholy. Things pick up considerably around "Yellow," where the band starts to show more range and confidence. From that point forward, the album builds a more compelling atmosphere, with stronger melodies and better dynamics. "High Speed" stands out as a personal favorite — a moody, understated track that hints at the more layered, ambient direction they'd explore in later albums. Overall, Parachutes is an uneven but promising introduction, better remembered for its highlights than its cohesion. Favorite song: "High Speed"

The Only Ones’ self-titled debut walks a fine line between punk attitude and classic rock sensibility — a blend that probably felt fresh and adventurous when it dropped in 1978. In hindsight, it doesn’t hit quite as hard as some of its punk contemporaries. The band leaned more into melody and musicianship than raw energy or rebellion, which gives the album a unique identity, but also makes it feel slightly out of step with the genre’s most defining moments. "Another Girl, Another Planet" is easily the standout — a near-perfect power pop track that still holds up decades later. It’s punchy, romantic, and effortlessly cool. The closer, "As My Wife Says," also lands well, giving the album a thoughtful, almost cinematic finish. The rest of the tracklist, however, struggles to match those peaks. It's not a bad record — just one that feels more like a time capsule than a timeless statement. Favorite Song: "Another Girl, Another Planet"

I went in with low expectations and came out floored by John Grant’s honesty, wit, and the sheer variety of styles he pulls off. The album walks a fine line between emotional devastation and sharp, often hilarious storytelling — and it does so with grace. The lyrics are eclectic, deeply personal, and at times completely unfiltered, bringing to mind the fearless songwriting of Sufjan Stevens. Nowhere is that more clear than on “Sigourney Weaver,” a surreal, oddly touching track that blends sci-fi and self-doubt with ease. “Where Dreams Go to Die” is heartbreaking and cinematic, “Jesus Hates Faggots” is gut-punch blunt in the best way, and the title track, “Queen of Denmark,” is a towering, sarcastic anthem of rejection and defiance. The album’s genre-hopping — from lush ballads to synthy weirdness — might not be for everyone, but it works. Grant’s voice, both literal and lyrical, holds it all together. This is one of those records that earns your attention and rewards it over time.

Space Ritual is a wild, swirling dive into cosmic chaos — part live album, part spaced-out fever dream. When it works, it really works. Tracks like “Brainstorm,” “Time We Left This World Today,” and “Master of the Universe” tap into a heavy, hypnotic groove that feels like the soundtrack to a sci-fi trip gone sideways. The energy is raw, the ambition is huge, and the atmosphere is thick with fuzz and phasers. But then there are the moments that pull you right out of the experience. The vocals, at times, veer into full Dr. Frank-N-Furter territory — theatrical, campy, and unintentionally hilarious. Some of the interludes and spoken-word bits sound less like serious space rock and more like a glam metal parody on a sketch comedy show. There’s something admirable about how far Hawkwind leans into the madness, but it’s a double-edged sword. Space Ritual is a fascinating listen, but not always for the reasons it intends. Great in doses, exhausting in others. Favorite song: Master Of The Universe

A Love Supreme is clearly the work of a brilliant musician at the height of his creative powers. John Coltrane’s technical mastery and emotional intensity shine throughout the album, and there’s no denying the spiritual weight behind the performance. It’s ambitious, deeply personal, and influential — a cornerstone of jazz history. That said, while the musicianship is top-tier, the album doesn’t fully hold up for casual listening. The entirely instrumental format, though impressive, lacks the variety or accessibility that makes some other classic records stand the test of time a bit more easily. For those already invested in jazz, it’s a rewarding experience. But for others, it can feel distant — more of an intellectual achievement than something you’d return to often. A Love Supreme deserves respect for what it is, but it may not resonate as deeply across all listeners or generations

Psychocandy is often praised for its influence and boldness, but as a listening experience, it’s a tough sell. The album buries its pop sensibilities under a relentless wall of distortion, feedback, and static — what the band likely saw as avant-garde now feels more like self-sabotage. Songs are drenched in noise to the point where melodies struggle to breathe. It’s like trying to enjoy a great song through an AM radio station that’s just out of range — you think there’s something good underneath, but the interference wears you down. The combination of sweet vocal lines with ear-piercing feedback is jarring, and not always in an interesting way. Credit where it’s due: they were doing something different. But different doesn’t always mean enjoyable. This might be a landmark in noise-pop, but that doesn’t make it easy — or pleasant — to sit through.

The Predator is Ice Cube at his sharpest — politically charged, aggressive, and lyrically fearless. Dropping in the wake of the L.A. riots, this album doesn’t pull any punches. It’s intense, angry, and still incredibly relevant. Ice Cube uses his voice as both a weapon and a warning, delivering some of the most potent verses of his career. Standouts like “When Will They Shoot” and “Now I Gotta Wet Cha” hit hard with gritty production and focused rage, showing Cube’s ability to balance street realism with razor-sharp commentary. “It Was a Good Day” is the album’s most iconic track — smooth, reflective, and a rare moment of calm in an otherwise hard-edged record. “Say Hi to the Bad Guy” closes things out with a defiant swagger, cementing Cube’s image as hip-hop’s unapologetic antihero. While a few tracks don’t quite hit the same mark, The Predator holds up as one of Ice Cube’s strongest solo efforts — a powerful mix of storytelling, social critique, and West Coast attitude. A must-listen for anyone serious about ‘90s hip-hop. Favorite Track: "It Was a Good Day"

A Hard Day’s Night isn’t The Beatles at their absolute best — but it’s the sound of them getting there fast. Their third album, and the first to feature only original songs, marks a major step forward in their songwriting and confidence. The band was starting to evolve past their early pop roots, and you can hear the ambition beginning to take shape. The title track explodes out of the gate with one of the most iconic opening chords in rock history — a sonic announcement that this is a band leveling up. “If I Fell” is a standout ballad, tender and beautifully crafted, with that trademark Lennon/McCartney harmony melting perfectly in the chorus. “Tell Me Why” brings energy and urgency, while “And I Love Her” is a soft, heartfelt moment that shows McCartney’s melodic gifts were already in full bloom. It’s not their deepest or most adventurous work, but A Hard Day’s Night captures The Beatles on the rise — sharper, more cohesive, and ready to change the world.

Vanishing Point is a moody, genre-blending trip from Primal Scream that never quite finds its destination. It’s atmospheric, dubby, and drenched in reverb — more about vibe than structure, and often more interested in texture than hooks. There’s ambition here, and plenty of cool moments, but the album sometimes drifts too far into its own haze to fully connect. Tracks slide between trip-hop, dub, and psych-rock, with varying success. Some songs feel sharp and immersive, while others lose momentum in long stretches of mood without much payoff. It's a bold step forward from Give Out But Don’t Give Up, but not as immediate or iconic as Screamadelica. Overall, Vanishing Point is interesting, often compelling, but not always memorable. A good headphone album for a specific mood, but not one you’ll be reaching for every time.

This feels like a watered-down, overly polished version of Steely Dan — all the slick production, none of the edge. If you’re a Steely Dan fan and thought, “What if this sounded cheesier and less interesting?” — well, this is the album for you. The whole thing is soaked in that unmistakable early ’80s gloss: synthetic drums, clean-as-a-whistle horns, and a general vibe that sounds like the background music in a corporate training video. The musicianship is solid — it is Donald Fagen, after all — but the soul just isn't there. That said, the title track is legitimately great. It's the one moment where the smooth production actually works in the album's favor — nostalgic, well-written, and atmospheric in all the right ways. But aside from that, most of the album blurs together in a sea of sterile grooves and elevator-funk. If you're here for Steely Dan’s sharp wit and gritty cool, The Nightfly will leave you wanting. Two stars for effort and one standout track

This might be a classic in some circles, but for me, it’s a tough listen. If you enjoy hearing the same phrases repeated over and over for four minutes straight — long before EDM made that kind of repetition feel cool — then this might be your thing. But for anyone looking for variety or depth, this album wears out its welcome fast. Most tracks feel like extended loops with very little payoff, and the vocals often come off as background noise rather than anything truly engaging. It’s glossy, danceable, and polished, but it all starts to blur together pretty quickly. The one real highlight is “Savoir Faire” — a smooth instrumental that lets Nile Rodgers’ guitar work shine.

I once read that you're either an Oasis person or a Blur person — and after listening to Parklife, I can say without a doubt I'm firmly in the Oasis camp. Always have been, still am. There's just no comparison. Parklife feels all over the place. It's quirky, sure, and I get why people say it's clever, but most of the time it just comes off as smug and trying too hard to be artsy. The songs bounce between styles without much cohesion, and while there's some catchy stuff here and there, nothing really sticks with me. If I had heard this back in 1994 or 1995, I'd have shrugged and gone right back to Definitely Maybe. Blur might have been critical darlings, but Oasis had the soul, the swagger, and the songs that hit you in the chest

You’ve Come a Long Way, Baby is just a fun album, plain and simple. It’s not something I’d throw on for deep, focused listening, but as background music? It’s perfect. It keeps the energy up without getting in the way — great for driving, cleaning, or just vibing out. “Rockafeller Skank” is still a total banger and basically impossible not to nod along to. “Praise You” has that weird charm that sticks with you, and “Kalifornia” brings a nice groove with some grit. The whole album’s got that late-90s big beat thing going strong, and Fatboy Slim knows exactly what he’s doing behind the boards. Some of the tracks can blur together a bit, but honestly, that’s part of the charm; It’s not trying to be overly serious. Favorite song: Kalifornia

Boston’s debut album is straight-up one of the best first albums a band has ever dropped. It’s packed with hits, and honestly, every single track is solid. It doesn’t feel like a debut — it feels like a band already at their peak. Everyone knows “More Than a Feeling,” and yeah, it still rules. But “Smokin’” might be the most fun track on the whole album. That organ solo? Absolute fire. It gives the song this cool, old-school vibe that just rips. Tom Scholz’s guitar tone is instantly recognizable, and Brad Delp’s vocals are insanely good from top to bottom. The whole thing is clean, tight, and somehow still sounds huge after all these years. Favorite song - Smokin

Rumours is one of those rare albums where the music is just as legendary as the drama behind it. Fleetwood Mac was falling apart while making this thing — cheating, breakups, shouting matches — total chaos. And somehow, out of all that personal wreckage, they put together a near-perfect record. It should have been a lesson for John McVie and Lindsey Buckingham not to shit where they eat… but hey, it worked out for them. The tension, the heartbreak, the spite — it's all baked into the songs, and that's exactly what makes the album hit so hard. “Secondhand News” kicks it off with a jolt of energy and bitterness. “Go Your Own Way” is a breakup anthem that somehow sounds both sad and stadium-sized. And “You Make Loving Fun” is smooth, joyful, and dripping with irony given everything going on behind the scenes. Every track is tight, emotionally raw, and endlessly replayable. Rumours is messy in the best way. Favorite song: Go Your Own Way

Look, I’ve got nothing but respect for Dolly Parton. She’s insanely talented, sharp as hell, and probably one of the most generous people on the planet. But when it comes to Coat of Many Colors, the music just hasn’t aged all that well. Yeah, the title track is heartfelt and personal, and I get why it’s important in her catalog. But a lot of the rest of the album feels dated — super simple arrangements, old-school country storytelling that doesn’t quite land the same way today. It’s more charming than compelling, and after a few songs, it kind of blurs together. Dolly’s voice is great, and you can tell she was already a strong songwriter, but as an album, this one’s more of a time capsule than something I’d go back to often.

I love metal. I love old-school punk. And I especially love the anti-establishment, middle-finger-to-the-system attitude that came with early punk. I can respect what Napalm Death was trying to do with Scum — pushing boundaries, pioneering grindcore, doing something nobody else was doing at the time. But man... this album just sounds like straight-up noise. The songs are so fast and chaotic they barely register before they're over, and when they do stick around for more than 30 seconds, it’s just a wall of blast beats, distortion, and guttural shouting that never lets up. I tried to give it a fair shot, but even my eight-year-old asked, “Why are we listening to dogs barking?” And honestly, I didn’t have a good answer.

Music from the Penguin Cafe feels like the kind of album that exists mainly to be used in quirky radio intros or as background music for a BBC nature doc. And apparently, that’s kind of their thing — odd, artsy, slightly off-center instrumentals. Which is fine… for what it is. There are bits and pieces that are kind of catchy or interesting, but nothing that really sticks. It all just kind of floats by. Harmless, a little charming at times, but not something I’d ever throw on again. If you’re into music that sounds like it should be playing while someone explains how a hedgehog hibernates, this might be for you.

When you think of The Who, it’s hard not to bring up The Beatles and The Stones in the same breath. They were all part of that same British Invasion wave, but each went in their own direction. At the time My Generation dropped, The Beatles were already veering toward psychedelia, and The Stones were still doing mostly covers with a few originals sprinkled in. Looking back, I’d still rank The Who third behind those two, but what they were doing with this debut was bold and seriously influential. The title track, “My Generation,” has aged into a full-on anthem — raw, rebellious, and way ahead of its time. “The Kids Are Alright” shows a more melodic side, with that jangly 12-string Rickenbacker that sounds a lot like what The Byrds would be doing just a few months later on the other side of the Atlantic. And then you’ve got a handful of tracks that are bursting with early punk energy — rough, fast, and not afraid to get a little messy.

With a name like Meat Loaf, you kind of know you’re in for something a little over-the-top — and Bat Out of Hell definitely delivers. It’s theatrical, bombastic, and totally not afraid to lean into the drama, but that’s what makes it so fun. You get the sense that Meat Loaf didn’t take himself too seriously, and honestly, the album’s better for it. The title track is a great opener — epic in every sense of the word. “You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth” is super catchy and hard not to sing along with, and “All Revved Up with No Place to Go” throws in a sax solo that gives it a cool, unexpected twist. It’s a weird mix of rock, Broadway, and straight-up camp, but it works. Favorite song: Bat Out of Hell

Beyond Skin was just… weird. I went in not knowing much and came out kind of confused. It jumps between so many styles and sounds that it’s hard to get a feel for what the album is even trying to be. There are moments that almost click, but then it veers off into something totally different and loses me again.

The Fat of the Land sounds like pure, peak '90s electronica — loud, aggressive, and totally unapologetic. It captures that chaotic energy of the era with pounding beats and distorted vocals, and somehow it all works. One of the things I liked most was how the songs flow into each other. It’s not just a bunch of singles thrown together — the whole album feels connected, kind of like what Pink Floyd did with The Wall or Dark Side of the Moon. Obviously a different genre, but the same idea: a full experience from start to finish. Favorite song: Fuel My Fire

Close to You is a solid album, even if it’s not totally my thing. Karen Carpenter’s voice is undeniable — super smooth and full of emotion — but most of the music just doesn’t hit for me personally. A little too soft and polished for my usual taste. That said, I’ve got to give her props for the covers. Their versions of “Help” and “Reason to Believe” were both really well done — honestly, I think they pulled off the latter better than Rod Stewart did, which I wasn’t expecting.

Merriweather Post Pavilion falls squarely in the “not great, not bad” category for me. It’s got a unique sound for sure — very layered and trippy — but it didn’t really blow me away. That said, there were definitely a few tracks I liked. “Lion in a Coma” had a cool groove to it, and “Brother Sport” brought some solid energy to the back half of the album. Those two stood out the most and gave the record a much-needed boost. Also, shoutout to the album cover — that optical illusion look is pretty wild and definitely one of the more memorable visuals I’ve seen on an album in a while. Favorite song: Lion in a Coma

Garbage’s self-titled album is a solid slice of classic '90s alternative. I didn’t hate it at all — in fact, that gritty, moody sound brought back some serious nostalgia. It just didn’t do quite enough to make me want to come back for another listen. I definitely recognized “Only Happy When It Rains” and “Stupid Girl” from back in the day — they still hold up and were the clear highlights for me. The rest of the album had its moments but kind of blended together after a while. If you're into that era and sound, it’s worth a listen.

As a big fan of psychedelic rock, In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida hits the spot. It’s got all the fuzzy guitars, swirling organ, and trippy vibes you could want — basically a time machine to 1968. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: the title track. Yeah, it’s over 17 minutes long. And yeah, some people in the reviews are probably going to complain about that. But those people are wrong. It’s a straight-up banger — hypnotic, heavy, and worth every second. That drum solo alone earns it a spot in the psych-rock hall of fame. The rest of the album is solid too, but let’s be real: this thing lives and dies by its title track, and thankfully, it lives.

Roger the Engineer is a great showcase of everything that made the Yardbirds such an important band — especially when it comes to guitar work. It’s hard not to respect a group that helped launch the careers of guys like Clapton, Beck, and Page. That legacy alone gives the album some serious weight. You can hear the blues roots all over this record, but what’s really cool is how a few tracks start leaning into psychedelic territory. It’s like they’re standing right on the edge of the musical shift that was about to explode in the late ’60s. Favorite song: Lost Woman

Marquee Moon gets tossed around as a punk album, but I’m just not seeing it. “See No Evil” has a bit of that punk edge, and maybe “Torn Curtain” leans in that direction, but overall? This feels way more like early indie rock than anything close to the raw energy of real punk and I’ve made it clear in earlier reviews how I feel about indie rock. (Spoiler: not a fan.) Television may have influenced some legit punk bands down the line, but this album itself doesn’t scratch that itch. It’s clean, drawn-out, and a little too polished for what I expect from punk. Points for influence, I guess, but this just wasn’t for me.

Unknown Pleasures gets a ton of praise, but it didn’t do much for me. I’ll give “New Dawn Fades” some credit — it had a cool, moody heaviness that almost felt like a nod to Black Sabbath — but that was about it. The rest of the album felt flat and repetitive. I get that Joy Division helped shape post-punk, but influence doesn’t always equal enjoyable. Just wasn’t my vibe.

Beautiful Freak is exactly what '90s alternative should sound like — weird, emotional, a little rough around the edges, and completely its own thing. “Susan’s House” especially nails that vibe with its spoken-word verses and laid-back groove. It’s like grunge’s introspective cousin who reads poetry and watches the rain. The whole album has this strange charm to it — quirky but honest, dark but not trying too hard. It’s not quite a five-star classic, but it’s definitely a strong, memorable listen.

That’s the Way of the World is smooth, soulful, and just plain easy to enjoy. If there were a Mt. Rushmore of Yacht Rock, Earth, Wind & Fire would absolutely have a spot carved out — maybe even front and center. This album is the definition of laid-back listening, but it’s never boring. The grooves are tight, the harmonies are buttery, and it’s got just the right mix of funk, soul, and soft rock to keep things interesting. It’s the kind of record you can put on and just vibe to — whether you're cruising down the highway or just relaxing at home. Favorite song: Shining Star

Power In Numbers is a solid entry in the world of alternative hip hop. Jurassic 5 brings smart lyrics, tight production, and a real appreciation for the old-school vibe without sounding stuck in the past. Tracks like “If You Only Knew,” “One of Them,” and “High Fidelity” stood out the most — catchy, clever, and delivered with confidence. The group’s chemistry shines through, and the beats are clean but still pack a punch. Favorite song: One Of Them

Meat Puppets II is weird, messy, and kind of brilliant — in other words, classic underground punk. If The Brothers Meat are good enough for Kurt Cobain, they’re good enough for me. Hearing the original versions of “Plateau,” “Oh, Me,” and “Lake of Fire” is a trip after knowing the Nirvana Unplugged versions so well. They’ve got this spaced-out, twangy vibe that’s totally their own — part punk, part country, part whatever-the-hell-they-feel-like.

A Walk Across the Rooftops feels like someone took every 80s pop cliché — glossy synths, moody vocals, dramatic pacing — and crammed them into one album. If that’s your thing, great. But for me, it just didn’t hit. It’s not unlistenable, but it’s definitely not memorable either.

Bridge Over Troubled Water may have marked the end of Simon & Garfunkel, but what a way to go out. This album is packed with great songs — the title track is iconic, “Cecilia” brings the fun, and even their cover of “Bye Bye Love” holds its own. But the real standout for me is “The Boxer.” Easily one of their top 3 songs ever for me — emotional, haunting, and beautifully arranged. That slow build and the “lie-la-lie” chorus still hit just as hard today. It’s a bittersweet swan song, but also one of the best folk-pop records ever made. Favorite song: The Boxer

Billion Dollar Babies is peak Alice Cooper — theatrical, loud, and weird in the best way possible. It’s like a haunted house you willingly walk into because the riffs are just that good. Songs like “Elected” and the title track go hard, and the whole thing has that sleazy, glammy swagger that defined Alice’s prime. Also, bonus points for cultural significance: the man gave us one of the most unexpectedly wholesome cameos in Wayne’s World history. “Actually, it’s pronounced mill-e-wah-que, which is Algonquin for 'the good land.’” An all-time moment. And if you can listen to this album and not think of “Hundred Dollar Baby” from Always Sunny... well, you’re doing it wrong.

I’ve already sat through more Krautrock on this list than any human should reasonably have to, but Movies somehow managed to be the worst of the bunch. That’s saying something, because at least the other albums in the genre were tolerable. This one felt like a test of patience — repetitive, meandering, and completely lacking any payoff. It’s like someone threw a bunch of synths and half-baked ideas into a blender and hit “loop.” If this is considered a standout in Krautrock, I want off this ride immediately.

Pet Sounds is an easy 5-star album — and honestly, it earns that just off the strength of “God Only Knows,” “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” and “Sloop John B.” alone. Those tracks are timeless, emotional, and beautifully arranged. But the whole album is packed with layers that still feel fresh today. It’s wild to think this was Brian Wilson’s response to Rubber Soul and a little experimentation with psychedelics. Whatever sparked it, the result was a game-changer in pop music. The harmonies, the production, the emotional depth — it’s all top tier. Just more proof that LSD should probably be legal. RIP to a true genius, Brian Wilson. Favorite song: God Only Knows

Channel Orange is kind of all over the place — R&B? Rap? Pop? I honestly don’t know what box to put it in, and maybe that’s the point. Genre confusion aside, it’s a solid album with a lot of ambition. Mad respect to Frank Ocean for pulling in big names like Andre 3000 and John Mayer — both features were definite highlights. There are a few standout tracks that really hit, but there are also some that felt a little too laid back or experimental for me to stay fully engaged.

Millions Now Living Will Never Die? More like Millions Now Regretting They Hit Play. Starting your album with a 21-minute instrumental is less “bold artistic statement” and more “cruel endurance test.” It’s like being stuck in traffic while someone softly noodles on a guitar in the passenger seat. Sure, maybe there’s some experimental charm buried in there somewhere — but I didn’t have the time or patience to dig it out. If your opener is longer than most EPs, you better make it worth it. This didn’t even come close.

Group Sex might catch some flak, but if you know what old school punk is supposed to sound like, this album delivers. It’s fast, it’s loud, it’s short, and it’s got that sneering, middle-finger attitude that defined early hardcore. At just about 15 minutes, it doesn’t waste time — every track punches you in the face and moves on. No polish, no filler, just raw energy and aggression. That’s the charm. It’s not for everyone, but if you're into the roots of hardcore punk, Group Sex is a blast of pure, chaotic fun. Favorite song: Deny Everything

I went into Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not thinking it wasn’t going to be my thing — maybe because I vaguely remembered liking AM but never followed up on it. Turns out, I should’ve given these guys more credit. Yeah, they get labeled as indie rock, but there’s a gritty, punk energy running through this album that keeps it from sounding too polished or pretentious. Tracks like “The Red Light Indicates” and “From the Ritz to the Rubble” really stood out — sharp lyrics, frantic pace, and a raw edge that makes you want to hit repeat. It exceeded expectations and reminded me that indie rock doesn’t have to be boring Favorite song: From the Ritz to the Rubble

More Songs About Buildings and Food didn’t leave a huge impression on me overall, but I’ve got to give credit where it’s due. The cover of “Take Me to the River” is definitely the standout — groovy, weird in the best way, and a clear high point. The rest of the album? Honestly kind of forgettable. Nothing bad, just nothing that really stuck with me after it ended. That said, one thing I do respect is how ahead of its time it sounds. For something released in the late ’70s, it doesn’t feel stuck in that era. It still has a modern, quirky edge that a lot of newer bands try to emulate.

Henry’s Dream is my second Nick Cave album from this list, and unfortunately, it didn’t do much to change my mind after sitting through Ghosteen (which earned a solid 1 star from me). That said, this one isn’t quite as painful. A few tracks had some surprisingly catchy moments that kept me from fully tuning out. It’s still not really my thing — a bit too dramatic and uneven overall — but at least parts of it had enough of a pulse to save it from a 1 star rating.

Went into Your New Favourite Band thinking I was in for more indie rock, but got hit with some gritty garage punk instead — and I’m not mad about it. My only previous exposure to The Hives was Weird Al jamming part of the opener in “Angry White Boy Polka,” so this was a fun discovery. What really stood out was how strong the back half of the album is. From “AKA IDIOT” to the final track, it just rips. You can definitely hear the influence of bands like NOFX, Bad Religion, and early Blink-182, but with a cool Swedish twist. “Die, All Right!” was a standout too. These guys might not be my new favorite band, but they’re definitely in the rotation now.

I owe Jack White an apology. I was never into The White Stripes, so I just kind of assumed his solo work wouldn't be for me either. Turns out Blunderbuss is a solid album. The title track has this unexpected pedal steel part that really works, and from “Weep Themselves to Sleep” onward, it’s just banger after banger. The second half of the album especially surprised me — way more soulful and melodic than I expected. Definitely changed my opinion on Jack White.

Hypocrisy Is the Greatest Luxury blew me away. I’d never heard of The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy before, but this album hit hard—musically and lyrically. It’s packed with sharp political commentary that’s somehow even more relevant now than it was in 1992. Back then, they were calling out systemic racism, media brainwashing, violence, and attacks on women’s rights. Fast forward to today—those same issues are still making headlines. On abortion rights, they were already shouting about government control over women’s bodies before Roe v. Wade had even been seriously challenged. Violence? Still everywhere, whether it’s mass shootings or police brutality. And their track “Television, the Drug of the Nation” feels prophetic—swap out TVs for phones and social media and it nails how addicted and manipulated we are by our screens today. While 90s gangster rap often focused on street life and personal survival, these guys went macro—pointing fingers at the system, the politicians, and the media. And honestly, political rap like this feels more vital than ever.

I didn’t even need to re-listen to The Doors to know it’s a 5-star album—but I did anyway because it’s just that good. This is hands down my favorite Doors record, and it’s wild how many legendary tracks they packed into a debut album. "Break on Through" kicks the door open (pun intended), and I’ll never forget hearing it for the first time on Tony Hawk’s Underground 2—as a high schooler, it was the moment I realized oldies could actually be cool. Then you’ve got "Light My Fire" with that iconic organ solo, the chaotic and theatrical "The End," the bizarre but brilliant "Alabama Song," and underrated bangers like "Take It as It Comes." It’s psychedelic, dark, poetic, and just straight-up badass. A debut like this doesn't happen often—The Doors came in fully formed and ready to burn the house down. Favorite song: Light My Fire

I love Elton John's music, but Madman Across the Water just reinforces my belief that he’s more of a singles artist than an album artist—Goodbye Yellow Brick Road being the big exception. “Tiny Dancer” and “Levon” are absolutely great and easily the high points here. The rest of the album isn’t bad, but it definitely tapers off. Nothing else really sticks with me the way those first two tracks do.

I get why this album matters. In the middle of all the polished rock coming out in the early 70s, the New York Dolls were loud, messy, and didn’t care what anyone thought. You can hear the early seeds of punk all over this thing. And for that alone, I have a lot of respect for what they were doing. That said, it's not really something I’d revisit. Outside of “Personality Crisis,” none of the tracks really stood out.

I still remember when the first three songs on this album completely ruled the radio and MTV. Hearing them now definitely brings back that early 2000s nostalgia. But after those first three tracks, it starts to lose steam. The rest of the album has some solid moments but nothing that hits quite the same. Still, there’s no denying Destiny Child's talent or how massive they were at the time.

I get the intention behind The Rising and respect it. The tributes to 9/11 are heartfelt, and Bruce Springsteen clearly poured a lot of emotion into this one. There are some moving moments, and the themes hit the right notes. That said, I couldn't get past the fake Southern accent he puts on in a few tracks. Bruce is Jersey through and through, so hearing him try to twang his way through songs just felt off. As someone from the Deep South, it came across more like a bad impression than authentic. The album has heart, but the delivery didn’t sit right with me.

2 stars – Dig Me Out This wasn’t the kind of Seattle sound I was hoping for. I was thinking grunge or something a little more raw and heavy. Instead, I got enough vibrato to make it sound like a goat choir. I get that Sleater-Kinney has a big following and a lot of influence, but this one didn’t land for me. Felt more like noise than music at times. Not the worst thing I’ve ever heard, but I won’t be coming back to it.

Today I learned that basically every Billy Joel song I know—other than "Piano Man"—is on this album. And now it makes total sense why The Stranger blew up the way it did. Even as someone who doesn’t call himself a Billy Joel fan, I have to give credit where it’s due. The man knows how to write a song. He’s a master at painting scenes with words. Whether it’s the bittersweet story in "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" or the raw honesty in "Vienna," you can see every moment play out like a movie. And then there's "Only the Good Die Young" and "Movin’ Out" which both still hit like they just came out yesterday. He’s got the voice, the piano chops, and the storytelling. Honestly, it’s rare to find all three in one artist. Favorite song: Movin' Out

Anyone born in the past 15 to 20 years probably only knows Kanye West as a right-wing conspiracy theorist and cultural pariah. But from 2005 to 2011, he wasn’t just a rapper. He was a force. And My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is him at the absolute peak of his powers. This album is loud, dramatic, beautiful, and deeply chaotic. It’s part therapy session, part flex, and part art project. The list of guest features is stacked—Jay-Z, Nicki Minaj, Bon Iver, Kid Cudi, Rihanna—and every one of them brings something solid. Even Chris Rock shows up. And somehow, in the middle of all that star power, Kanye still manages to be the gravitational center. It’s wild that this was his comeback album after the Taylor Swift fallout. Most artists would’ve laid low. Kanye dropped one of the best albums of the decade. Favorite song: Runaway

AJFA is Metallica at their most technical and complex. It’s long, aggressive, and at times borderline exhausting—in the best way possible. If Master of Puppets is peak Metallica, then AJFA is them flexing their songwriting and riff-crafting muscles like lunatics in a dungeon full of time signature changes. "Blackened" kicks the door open like a controlled explosion. That reverse intro into the main riff still gives me chills, especially when they open with it live. “Harvester of Sorrow” might be the shortest track here, but it hits like a tank. It’s also a sign of where they were headed—more groove, more crunch, less speed. That song crawled so "Sad But True" and "King Nothing" could stomp. Lyrically, they kept the heat turned up. If MoP flirted with political and religious themes, AJFA dives in headfirst. It’s pissed-off, cynical, and feels just as relevant today.

I went in blind on this one. Never heard of Billy Bragg and figured I’d hate it. Turns out his Essex accent and razor-sharp take on politics give it a real punk edge. The songs cut right to the chase on social issues. You can’t help but nod along when he rails against the system. His words still hit home. Tax hikes, inequality, civil rights....track after track, it feels just as relevant now. Between the "Chimes of Freedom"-inspired chorus and jangly electric guitar, "Ideology" is a clever wink to both Bob Dylan and the Byrds without feeling like a rip-off. Favorite song: Help Save The Youth of America

Funny timing, hearing Billy Bragg two days in a row. This one was a surprise. Pairing him up with Wilco to breathe new life into Woody Guthrie’s unused lyrics is such a cool concept, and they actually pulled it off. It doesn’t feel like some museum piece or forced tribute either. The songs sound natural and fresh, like they were written last week instead of decades ago. Bragg’s grit and Wilco’s laid-back alt-country vibe balance each other out in a way that works way better than I expected. It’s got heart, it’s got soul, and it somehow manages to connect three generations of music without sounding like a history lesson. Solid album with a cool story behind it.

I know the Beatles haters are going to show up here, but let’s be real. This is one of their best albums, recorded at a time when the band was falling apart. Somehow, they put all that aside and made something incredible. George Harrison absolutely shines. “Something” is the best love song ever written in my opinion, and “Here Comes the Sun” is one of the most universally loved songs in their catalog. Those two tracks alone are better than most bands’ entire careers. The second side medley is just plain fun. It jumps between ideas like a musical collage, but it works. It’s catchy, weird, beautiful, and somehow flows perfectly. “Oh! Darling” is Paul’s throwback to doo-wop and soul, and John’s “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” digs into darker, heavier territory that hints at early prog rock. George also invited Billy Preston to sit in during the Let It Be sessions, and you can hear how much that paid off here. His keyboard playing gives the album extra texture and personality. This isn’t just a great Beatles album. It’s one of the best albums of all time.

I like some Grateful Dead songs but sitting through this album felt impossible. It’s full of long, meandering jams that blend into each other. You need serious patience or some chemical help to enjoy it. The 8 minute long “Feedback” that was literally just guitar feedback was the final straw for me. I love acid rock and psychedelia but this leans too far into jazz noodling for my taste. The band clearly thrived on the live experience. But as a listening session? You feel every minute. Maybe give it a spin if you want a deep dive into Dead history. Or if you plan to light up and let the world melt. For straight listening, though, I’d pass. There are better ways to spend your time. Best song on the album was “And We Bid You Goodnight”; mercifully, it was only 35 seconds long and ended the album.

I remember listening to Tigermilk earlier this year and walking away with a big ol’ shrug. If You're Feeling Sinister didn’t change that much for me. It’s not bad, just kind of there. Stuart Murdoch's voice has that soft, wispy thing going on, but it feels more fragile than compelling. Honestly, he sounds like a knockoff Nick Drake who couldn’t quite seal the deal. The songs are pleasant, and there’s a quiet charm in the arrangements, but nothing really grabs you and holds on. It’s the kind of album that floats in the background while you do something else. Not annoying enough to skip, but not strong enough to demand attention either.

It's wild to think this is Lauryn Hill’s only solo studio album. For a debut, it hits harder than most artists’ entire discographies. Listening to this, I'm left wondering what else she could’ve done if she’d kept going. The production is sharp, the lyrics are personal, and the mix of soul, hip hop, and R&B still sounds fresh decades later. She brought in some big names too; when “To Zion” started, I remember thinking the guitar felt familiar. Sure enough, it was Santana. “Doo Wop (That Thing)” is the hit, and yeah, it still bangs. But her version of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You”? Totally unexpected and absolutely brilliant. She takes a classic and flips it into something new without losing the heart of it. This is one of those albums that earned its hype.

Another 2000s alt rock album that blends into the rest. It’s got that moody, artsy vibe that tries to feel important but ends up just kind of meandering. I kept waiting for something to jump out or grab my attention. It never did. Nothing was outright terrible, just very forgettable. If you’ve heard one alt rock album from this era, you’ve basically heard this one too

I haven’t looked at the average rating yet, but I’m guessing this one probably lands below 3 stars. That wouldn’t surprise me. Blues albums don’t always get much credit, especially on lists filled with flashier genres. Still, I’ve always liked blues and this album reminded me why. Muddy Waters sounds like a man who still has something to prove. His voice is raw and steady, and his band backs him up with grit and swagger. "Mannish Boy" kicks things off strong and sets the tone for the rest of the album.

his one was fun. Right out of the gate, it had that playful energy that reminded me a lot of De La Soul or A Tribe Called Quest. The humor, the wordplay, the laid-back flow — all of that works really well, especially in the first few tracks. But somewhere along the way, it started to lose steam. The beats kind of blurred together and it shifted into background music. Not bad, just not as gripping as I wanted. Tribe keeps me engaged from start to finish. This one didn't quite stick the landing, but it's still a solid listen.

I like Jack White a lot more as a solo artist than I do in The White Stripes. This album just didn’t do much for me. It’s raw, it’s gritty, and I get why people love the garage rock energy, but most of it felt kind of flat. "Fell In Love With a Girl" is the clear standout. It’s short, punchy, and actually pretty fun. Bonus points for Weird Al giving it some love with his Lego-style parody. Outside of that, though, not much stuck with me. I respect what they were going for, but it’s just not something I’d go back to often.

This one just felt like paint-by-numbers 80s pop. Slick production, jangly guitars, a little bit of moodiness tossed in for good measure—nothing bad exactly, but nothing that really stood out either. If you told me this was one of a hundred similar albums from the era, I’d believe you.

This one was a bit of a mixed bag. I’ll give credit where it’s due—Scott LaFaro and Bill Evans usually get all the shine, but Paul Motian deserves props for trying something different here. He blends jazz, bop, free improv, and even a little touch of blues and doo-wop. That doo-wop flair toward the end of "Gloria’s Step" actually caught me off guard in a good way. The opening track had a cool groove and set the stage nicely, but unfortunately, the rest of the album just faded into background noise. I didn’t dislike it, but I never felt pulled in either

I'm not a jazz expert, so maybe the finer points of this one flew over my head. To me, it just sounded like, well... jazz. Not bad, not mind-blowing, just solid, classic-sounding stuff. I had it playing while I was working and it made for a nice backdrop. The musicianship is clearly top-tier, but nothing really grabbed me.

Another middle-of-the-road 80s pop/alternative album. It’s not bad, just... fine. There’s some atmosphere here, and a few moments where the strings give things a little lift, but nothing that really sticks. It feels like the kind of album that gets praised more for its aesthetic than its actual songs. The vocals are dramatic, the production is moody, and the whole thing tries hard to feel important, but most of it just floats by without leaving much behind.

This probably isn’t going to be a crowd favorite, and that’s fine. It’s not background music, and it doesn’t try to be. But even if it doesn’t land on your personal playlist, there’s no denying the impact Ravi Shankar had through albums like this. This record is a primer on Indian classical music, delivered by one of its most important figures. Ravi didn’t just play the sitar—he opened a door for the rest of the world to hear it. Without him, there’s a good chance George Harrison never picks one up, and we never get songs like “Norwegian Wood.” Ravi taught George personally and later partnered with him to create the Concert for Bangladesh, which helped set the blueprint for the modern charity concert.

I had no idea who Michael Kiwanuka was before this, but what a pleasant surprise. His voice is like velvet: smooth, rich, and easy on the ears. The whole album feels like it was made to be played on vinyl, maybe with a whiskey in hand and no plans for the rest of the day. There’s a warm, soulful energy running through the entire record. Even when the songs stretch out a bit, they never drag or overstay their welcome. It blends classic soul with modern touches in a way that feels natural and confident. If you're into Marvin Gaye, Bill Withers, or anything with a touch of vintage warmth, this is worth a listen

More 80s pop that blends right into the crowd. Nothing here really stands out. The songs are fine on a surface level, but they all feel like variations of the same idea, and that idea has already been done better elsewhere. Her voice is pleasant enough, but the melodies and arrangements never push beyond safe or familiar. It's the kind of album that plays in a coffee shop and no one bothers to ask what it is. Not terrible, just incredibly generic.

There’s way more hate in the reviews than I expected. Yeah, some of the lyrics are edgy by today’s standards, but acting like "Under My Thumb" or "Stupid Girl" is a manifesto instead of tongue-in-cheek storytelling misses the point entirely. It’s rock and roll, not a TED Talk. "Paint It, Black" is an all-time top 10 song for me. That opening sitar riff is instantly recognizable and still sounds great. I’d probably slot "Under My Thumb" into my top 50 too. The groove is tight, the delivery is cool, and the song just works. Not every track is a banger, but there's enough classic Stones energy here to make it worthy of 4 stars.

Loud, fast, and short. Just the way hardcore punk should be. Minor Threat doesn’t waste a second here. The songs hit hard, make their point, and get out before you can catch your breath. It’s raw without being sloppy and angry without losing control.

Ozzy’s voice sounds as sharp as ever on this one. The whole album leans into that heavy, hazy Sabbath groove, and it delivers. “Snowblind” is the obvious standout, still a banger after all these years, but “Changes” hits differently now. Knowing we’ve lost Ozzy gives that track a weight it didn’t carry before. This album may not get as much love as Paranoid or Master of Reality. It’s darker, weirder, and a little more uneven, but that’s part of the charm. Props to Alexander for making an exception to the algorithm. RIP to the Prince of Darkness.