I was really excited to be given this album as my very first, and it was almost TOO perfect considering I was just thinking to myself that I need to explore more metal. I hadn’t heard a lot of Iron Maiden, save for “Wasted Years” from their sixth album Somewhere in Time (1986), which is one of my favorite songs in the genre. And overall, I was pretty impressed! I don’t think it’s the kind of music I’d necessarily seek out for myself (I’m realizing I don’t really like shreddy guitars as much as I should, considering I’m a guitarist myself). At the same time, I see WHY this album has been foundational for metal as we know it. I’ve seen a lot of reviews call the music a little corny at times, but honestly, with Bruce Dickinson’s dramatic, powerful, vibrato-tinged voice, the most heartfelt lyrics would still come off as corny to a lot of folks. That is not a bad thing! I consider his voice to be a a feature of the music, not a bug, and I can’t imagine these songs with any other vocalist. Musically, I think “22 Acacia Avenue” had the strongest guitar solo, but I really loved the main riff in “Hallowed Be Thy Name.” The choruses of “The Prisoner” and “Run to the Hills” were the catchiest in my opinion. As an admitted poptimist, I’m a sucker for a good, infectious chorus, and those songs absolutely delivered. I found it fascinating how the Wikipedia page highlighted the controversy surrounding the album’s religious imagery in songs like “The Number of the Beast.” I feel like had the album been released today, “Run to the Hills” would have been the more controversial track, being about the genocide of indigenous Americans. I feel like they tackled such a heavy topic with class though (aside from a few word choices that aged like milk), and it’s actually pretty admirable for a band to take on subjects from the darker parts of our history. They say those who forget history are doomed to repeat it, and art is a great way to continue to pass on stories from the past. Iron Maiden understood the assignment. I noticed some similarities between “Hallowed Be Thy Name” (my favorite track on the album) and Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” and Styx’s “Renegade.” All three songs are about a condemned man reflecting on his life just prior to being hanged. What was with classic rock bands and songs about this topic? Still, I thought it was very well-executed and captured the panicked feeling of a man’s last moments on earth, just before reaching the gallows. And as I mentioned earlier, that guitar riff is legendary. Overall, the album wasn’t life-altering for me, but it was an enjoyable listen. I feel like I now better understand how it laid the groundwork for metal as a genre. If you’re more of a pop-leaning person like myself, it probably won’t do a lot for you, but if you like heavy, fast, and dramatic, this album is absolutely worth checking out.

I came into this album already really liking what I’ve heard of The Kinks. They were a favorite band of my dad’s and I loved individual songs like “State of Confusion” and “Come Dancing.” But I’d never sat and listened through an entire album of theirs. The further I got into this album, the more I became convinced that The Kinks should have been as big as, if not bigger than, The Beatles. They have a penchant for unusual but catchy melodies, used a lot of experimental techniques (never forget that Dave Davies essentially invented distortion), and they have that distinctive British flavor (flavour?) that I really enjoy in music. “Victoria” was one of the strongest standout tracks for me and one hell of an album opener. It’s horrendously catchy and tended to get stuck in my head the entire day after I listened to it. The harpsichord-driven “She’s Bought a Hat…” was a really fun and quirky track, and “Young and Innocent Days” came with a kind of warm, somber nostalgia due to the lyrical content, but the real star, to me, was the epic “Australia.” Hearing “Australia” was what it took to launch Dave Davies into my top five guitarists of all time. I’m in love with the tone of his guitar on this track, and his lengthy solo goes way harder than anything else I’ve heard in a while. The other songs were great in their own ways, and no two tracks sounded similar or interchangeable. Every track had its own unique sound to it, and while I do value a little bit of cohesiveness in albums, as a musician myself I know how hard it is to make each song stand out on their own. The Kinks succeeded with flying colors at just that. Honestly, I’m tempted to give this album five stars for that solo alone (and for the infectious “Victoria”), but this is only my second day and I don’t want to be too generous with my five star ratings until I’ve heard some other albums for comparison’s sake. So Arthur is a solid four for me at this time, but it may just rank higher in the end. Overall though, I was very impressed. The Davies bros did it again.

I was initially going to give this album a lower rating, but I felt like that wasn’t fair, considering I primarily listened to the music rather than the lyrics on my playthrough. That’s how I listen to music — first to the music itself, and then to the lyrics. Don’t get me wrong, the music is top-notch, filled with a variety of instruments and interesting chord progressions. But with an artist like Neil Young, you have to give the lyricism the same weight as the composition. So I took it upon myself to look up some of the lyrics, and damn, do some of them hit hard. In “See the Sky About to Rain,” Young sings “Some are bound for happiness, some are bound to glory / Some are bound to live with less, who can tell your story?” That stanza really stood out to me. Young’s strength lies in his words, and the man can certainly tell a story. Musically though, the album is pretty strong as well. “Walk On” utilizes the slide guitar well, while “For the Turnstiles” features a banjo. The second half of the album is noticeably more mellow in sound, even dark at times, and the final track, “Ambulance Blues,” is nothing more than Young with his guitar for a good chunk (there ARE some wonderful strings as well). The Wikipedia article for this album credits a cannabis concoction known as “honey slides” for this change of tone, and considering I live in a legal state, Mr. Young may have inspired an ill-advised cooking experiment…

Now THIS is jazz! Listening to this album took me back to my years playing in jazz ensembles, and while I’ve PLAYED a lot of jazz throughout the years, I feel like you can’t truly understand it until you’ve sat down and listened through the greats. Thelonious Monk is one such legendary musician whose music deserves a thorough listen. This album was very enjoyable! The first track, which is also the title track, opens with a dissonant little piano intro. Monk was noted for his use of dissonance and accidentals — he once famously quipped that the piano “ain’t got no wrong notes.” The saxes, played by Ernie Henry and Sonny Rollins, launch into a dizzying melody. Part of me wishes the saxes would have utilized more harmony than playing unison, but with how much is going on in the other instruments, it might have been a good idea to keep things simple. There is also a drum solo — in fact, several of the tracks have drum solos. And I’m a sucker for a good jazz drum solo. The following piece features a melodic line that almost resembles the legendary villain song “Cruella de Vil” — in fact, Monk’s composition predates the Disney song by a few years, and I’m curious if the composer for the 1961 One Hundred and One Dalmatians drew some inspiration from Monk’s music. Monk’s penchant for dissonant, unusual chords is once again on display. The upright bass solo, interestingly, doesn’t have much of a discernible chord progression, as the piano drops out, and doesn’t really stick to the key much. I’m not typically a fan of atonal-sounding music, but this solo actually managed to captivate me BECAUSE of how weird it was. Our third track, “Pannonica,” is a celesta-driven ballad that includes some breathtaking moments between the saxes, giving me some of those delicious harmonies I was wishing for in the title track. The drums are much softer here, seemingly played with brushes rather than sticks, while the saxes and piano play off each other beautifully throughout the piece. Track number four is all piano, baby! Monk shines in this twinkly little piece titled “I Surrender, Dear,” a cover of a composition written by Harry Barris and Gordon Clifford. Something that took me aback at first were the tiny audible sighs and hums you can hear throughout this recording. It’s amazing how intimate those little noises make the music seem. It feels like you’re in the room as Monk is performing just for you. I feel like that human element is missing from a lot of music today due to how perfect we feel like we have to get recordings to sound. We really sanitize our music these days before it’s released, but I’d love to see a return to these simpler recordings, just a man and his piano in a room. The final track is a tune co-written with Denzil Best in honor of Best’s parent’s homeland of Barbados. The recurring melody is very interesting here — I got more “Middle East” than “Barbados” vibes from it. I haven’t played around with my keyboard to figure out which scale this piece utilizes, but I’d be curious it borrows at all from scales originating outside the Western music tradition. It’s a very odd-sounding but catchy melody, and I can see myself humming it myself for the rest of the day. It also borrows a little from the twelve-bar blues progression, although the progression is lacking the traditional dominant chord turnaround at the end. It’s probably my favorite track if I’m honest, because I really do love the melody, and I feel like it’s the most musically cohesive song on the album. This album is very weird, but then again, the best jazz IS weird. Thelonious Monk is a legendary musician for a reason, and his talent really shines through on this album. It was a fascinating voyage through a handful of very unique compositions, and I really enjoyed getting to analyze them on a theory level. Four years of music school paid off I guess!

Rage Against the Machine is exactly what it says on the tin — unbridled rage, usually (and often rightfully) directed at authority. Rock music has always been about “sticking it to the man,” as Jack Black famously said in School of Rock, and this album is a shining example of this concept gone right. RATM’s self-titled album is a nonstop tirade against “compromise, conformity, assimilation, submission, ignorance, hypocrisy, brutality, [and] the elite,” which lead vocalist Zach de la Rocha derides as “the American dream” in “Know Your Enemy.” Musically, this album fits well with other funk-influenced 90s alternative artists like Red Hot Chili Peppers, obviously minus the irreverent silliness of RHCP. Tom Morello’s guitar finesse is on display throughout this album, and I only truly began to recognize how brilliant and experimental his playing is while listening to this album. He utilizes a handful of interesting effects, including heavy distortion throughout, but my favorite solo on the album, the one on “Settle For Nothing,” features a relatively clean tone and a simple, singable legato melody, contrasting with the choppy, aggressive sound of the rest of the song. I don’t know that I enjoyed RATM’s music as much as, say, RHCP’s music, but I did enjoy listening through this album and hearing their message. I think music for me is a kind of escapism, which is why I’m not super into political/protest music., even if I’m on the same side of the artist. I don’t want to be reminded of how much the world sucks; I just wanna vibe and listen to cool stuff. RATM is NOT vibey music, but it does what it was created to do, which is fire people up to inspire change. And if that is their mission, I’d say they’re pretty successful.

I will admit I was partially distracted when I listened to this album, so this isn’t the fairest rating, but I did like what I heard. Lots of great bluesy folksy stuff, and of course “Julio” slaps every time. Still, none of the songs really stood out to me as especially catchy. Overall, it was an enjoyable listen for what I was doing at the time of listening, and I’d be curious to re-listen at a time when I’m able to truly take in the words.

This album was probably my favorite listen so far. I might be A LITTLE biased because Fishbone was friends with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and I freakin’ LOVE them, but honestly, this band stands on their own. Truth and Soul cycles through funk, ska, and hard rock before finally ending on the acoustic guitar-driven track “Change,” the only real ballad on the album. Some of my favorite musical moments include the “funky ass bass” on “Bonin’ in the Boneyard” and the moody chord progression on “One Day.” Lyrically, the songs cover topics like fascism, racism, and poverty, which still feels VERY RELEVANT nearly 40 years later. I felt that Fishbone tackled these rather dark subjects tactfully and thoughtfully. All in all, this was a delight to listen to! My standout track is probably “Mighty Long Way,” but truthfully, this album is solid start to finish.