Obviously, this is a great album. I prefer it to Bitches Brew. One I reach for fairly regularly.
We're two-for-two now on albums I have on vinyl. This one is pretty much chockablock with big tunes. I was under the impression that The Joshua Tree was front-loaded with hits and then trailed off pretty quickly into Lanois-style atmospherics, but it doesn't start to waft away until the middle of side 2. Even then... I remember this being the talk of campus when it was scheduled to come out my freshman year. I also recall listening to the cassette on repeat (auto-reverse) in my girlfriend's dorm room. Perhaps as a result, I have a hard time being objective about this one.
Well, this is pleasant. Obviously, Dusty in Memphis gets all the attention, but one gets a good sense that that album didn't come from out of nowhere. Probably not one I'll revisit all that much, but a nice enough half-hour's diversion.
Hearing so much about how daring and confounding Tusk was, you'd have thought they'd made Trout Mask Replica or something. It has its LA New Wave moments, but it's still filtered through the band's pop sensibilities. I actually prefer those moments to the more standard Fleetwood Mac tracks, and I think the oddest thing they did was kick off a two album set with a snoozy acoustic number. "Rocks Off" it ain't. I do recall the title track fondly from back in the day. Regarding the sound, I've heard that cocaine pumps more blood through your brain. This makes everything sounds bassy, so coked-up producers crank up the treble to compensate.
Why have I never gotten around to Jack White? I loved White Blood Cells. I enjoyed that one Raconteurs song that sounded like Don Dixon’s “Praying Mantis” (you might not know what I’m talking about, but I’m pretty sure Jack does). Now here I am just getting around to a 12-year-old Jack White album, and I have to say it’s quite good. I don’t suppose I should be all that surprised. Jack seems to like Zeppelin for the right reasons; there’s enough rococo byzantinery to give it some flavor, and he’s integrated his influences into a pretty coherent whole.
The album no one could mix. Why anyone put 1972 Iggy Pop in charge of anything is beyond me. I guess Bowie did his best with what he had? Iggy's sludge-o-matic '90s version has its moments? Still, a mess is a mess. There are quite a few great songs here, and this could have been a great leap forward if it hadn't been botched from the start. I hate grading art, but this thing is making me, so 4 stars for the songs and 2 stars for the production. Bought this on cassette my freshman year of college.
Grant Lee Buffalo is a band that I've always been aware of, but never spent much time with. Fuzzy gets weirder (and thus better) as it goes along. I suspect their next albums delve deeper into this, assuming major label pressures didn't sand down their edges. Further investigation is warranted.
Sure! I have all five of these LPs in my collection.
I've been at this for a week and this is my second Dusty Springfield album, a coincidence I'm sure. I've heard this album many, many times, although I haven't revisited it in quite a while. It's excellent. And it turns out I'm cited as a source on the Wikipedia page! Well, huh. Obvious best track: "Son of a Preacher Man," obviously. Stealth best track: "I Don't Want to Hear It Anymore," an early Randy Newman composition that demonstrates his gift for the lyrical specificity that lends credibility to the story he's telling. ("I saw them in the front yard, said the boy in room 149...")
As some wise guy once said, "Razor sharp slices of neo-garage rock, fueled on amphetamine and Aftermath, quick-witted and tight—and an object lesson that the New Wave could compete on the old school’s field." (This is the second album I've been dealt in a row where I've been cited as a source on Wikipedia. Spooky.)