Goodbye Yellow Brick Road feels like a classic from the first note. Grand and ambitious, it showcases Elton John's versatility beyond piano ballads, blending rock, glam, storytelling, and hints of prog. Packed with some of his best songwriting, its length never drags thanks to perfect pacing, keeping each track fresh and engaging. A timeless masterpiece that defines his artistry. The songwriting on Goodbye Yellow Brick Road is exceptional. Bernie Taupin’s vivid, poetic lyrics create grand, emotional stories, from the nostalgia of the title track to the raw storytelling of Candle in the Wind. Elton John masterfully transforms these words into melodies, ensuring every line resonates. His ability to craft songs that feel both intimate and larger-than-life is truly remarkable. The album’s variety is a major strength. High-energy rock anthems like Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting burst with distorted guitars and swagger, while the theatrical Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding opens with a dramatic instrumental before launching into epic rock. Tracks like Grey Seal and Your Sister Can’t Twist show Elton’s ability to rock just as hard as he delivers ballads, proving his versatility and dynamic range. Despite its 75-minute length and wide variety of styles, the album flows seamlessly. Each song feels essential, and the balance between grand, emotional moments and fun, upbeat tracks keeps it fresh and engaging. The pacing ensures it never drags, maintaining a consistent energy that keeping me invested from start to finish. The main issue with the album is Elton’s high-pitched falsetto at times. While he has an incredible vocal range, on tracks like Bennie and the Jets, his falsetto can feel a bit overwhelming. It’s not necessarily bad, but in certain moments, it feels a little too much and doesn’t always sit right, slightly detracting from the overall experience. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road is one of Elton John’s greatest works, showcasing his ambition and versatility beyond piano-driven pop. The top-tier songwriting and rich, varied instrumentals make it a standout, with only a few weaker moments. While not perfect, its highs more than make up for the flaws. A masterpiece that earns a solid 4.2/5.

this record marks the inception of an ambitious project blending animation, music, and diverse genres into something truly revolutionary. Damon Albarn’s brainchild, alongside Jamie Hewlett’s striking visual artistry, transcended the boundaries of what we thought a "band" could be, delivering an album that feels as fresh today as it did at the turn of the millennium. From the very first track, “Re-Hash,” it’s clear that Gorillaz is not your conventional album. The laid-back, reggae-tinged groove sets the tone for the eclectic journey ahead. Albarn’s hazy vocals feel effortlessly cool, introducing listeners to the essence of Gorillaz: genre-blurring soundscapes with a cheeky edge. One of the standout tracks, Clint Eastwood, he haunting melody, driven by a hypnotic bassline and eerie melodica, is paired with Del the Funky Homosapien’s unforgettable verses. The song feels like a conversation between the digital and human worlds, perfectly encapsulating the band’s ethos of combining disparate elements into cohesive brilliance. What struck me most while revisiting this album is its ability to balance light-hearted fun with darker undertones. Tracks like “Tomorrow Comes Today” and “Gravity” delve into more introspective territory, with moody beats and melancholic melodies. These songs give the album depth, revealing a contemplative side beneath the animated façade. The production throughout the album is another highlight. Hip-hop, dub, rock, electronica, and even punk all collide in a seamless blend. It’s a testament to the creative vision behind Gorillaz that none of this feels forced or chaotic. Instead, it feels like a celebration of musical diversity If I have any criticism, it’s that the album occasionally leans too heavily on its experimental nature. Some tracks feel more like sketches than fully fleshed-out songs. While this rawness can be endearing, it occasionally disrupts the album’s flow. That said, Gorillaz is an album that thrives on its imperfections. Its rough edges, unpredictable turns, and unapologetic weirdness are precisely what make it special. It’s not trying to fit into a mould, it’s breaking the mould entirely.

This album is often hailed as one of the band’s finest works, and after giving it a listen from start to finish, it's easy to see why. This album captures the pinnacle of Rush’s progressive rock evolution, offering a perfect blend of complex musicianship, thought-provoking lyrics, and rich, immersive soundscapes that make it a timeless classic. From the very first track, "Tom Sawyer," it’s clear that Rush is firing on all cylinders. Geddy Lee’s commanding vocals and impeccable bass work are front and centre, with the song’s instantly recognisable synth line setting the tone for the rest of the album. Lyrically, "Tom Sawyer" is a meditation on individuality and defiance, themes that resonate even more in the modern world. It’s an anthem for anyone who has ever felt like an outsider, and it’s a track that truly encapsulates the spirit of Rush. But let’s be honest, hasn’t it been played to death? It’s everywhere: on classic rock radio, in movies, in adverts. As brilliant as it is, I sometimes feel like it overshadows other songs on the album, which is a shame because there’s so much more to love beyond the obvious hit. “YYZ” is a technical marvel. As someone who appreciates musicianship, this track is an absolute joy to listen to. The interplay between Neil Peart’s drumming and Geddy’s bass is mind-blowing, and Alex Lifeson’s guitar work ties it all together perfectly. Even though it’s an instrumental, it never feels like it’s just showing off—it’s pure energy and emotion, told entirely through sound. Every time I listen to it, I’m in awe of how tight and precise the band is. “Limelight” might be my personal favourite on the album. The lyrics are so introspective and honest, reflecting on the challenges of fame in a way that’s both relatable and deeply moving. Geddy’s vocal delivery feels raw and genuine, and Alex’s guitar solo is absolutely stunning. It’s a track that balances vulnerability and power, and it gets me every time. it might feel a bit niche compared to their usual epic, adventurous themes. If you’re drawn to Rush for the escapism, this one might feel a little too grounded, even though it’s a fantastic track. What I love most about Moving Pictures is how cohesive it feels. Even with all the variety—anthemic rockers, introspective moments, instrumental showcases—it all flows together so seamlessly. The production is incredibly polished, which lets every instrument shine, but it never feels sterile or overproduced. Rush managed to strike the perfect balance between technical brilliance and emotional resonance. Sure, there are minor things you could nitpick. “Tom Sawyer” might feel overplayed to some, and “The Camera Eye” could test the patience of listeners who aren’t into longer tracks. But honestly, those aren’t flaws in my eyes—they’re just part of what makes the album uniquely Rush. Every song has its own identity, and together, they form a body of work that’s as engaging today as it was all those years ago At its core, Moving Pictures is a perfect blend of technical skill, emotional depth, and storytelling. It’s one of those albums that rewards you more with each listen, and for me, it’s one of the greatest works of progressive rock ever created.

the album blends Simon’s introspective songwriting with South African musical influences, resulting in a hybrid of styles that was as controversial as it was lauded. As someone who isn’t a devoted fan of the album but appreciates its significance, I have mixed feelings about it. While it’s undeniable that Graceland showcases incredible artistry and cultural exchange, there are aspects of the record that leave me less than enamoured One of the most remarkable aspects of Graceland is its innovative blending of musical styles. Simon worked with South African musicians. Tracks like “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes” and “Homeless” showcase this collaboration beautifully, with rich harmonies and intricate rhythms that feel vibrant and alive. For someone like me, who enjoys punk rock and rawer musical forms, the polished and layered production here was intriguing, if not immediately gripping. Paul Simon has always been a master lyricist, and Graceland is no exception. The title track, for instance, weaves a personal narrative of loss and redemption while also evoking a sense of travel and discovery. The imagery in songs like “The Boy in the Bubble” is vivid and thought-provoking, touching on themes of technological advancement and global interconnectedness. Even if the music didn’t always connect with me on a visceral level, I found myself drawn to the storytelling and wordplay. For all its high points, Graceland isn’t a consistently engaging listen for me. Some tracks, like “All Around the World or the Myth of Fingerprints,” feel like filler compared to the album’s stronger moments. The pacing of the album also felt uneven; the energetic tracks and slower, introspective pieces didn’t always flow seamlessly. This inconsistency made it hard for me to fully immerse myself in the album as a whole While the polished production is part of what makes Graceland stand out, it also detracts from the raw emotionality that I personally connect with in music. The intricate layers and studio sheen can feel overwhelming at times, making the album feel more like a technical showcase than an emotional journey While the album's blending of South African rhythms with Western pop is musically innovative, and Simon’s lyrical craftsmanship shines. Some tracks don’t hold my attention, and the overproduction feels too polished for my taste, lacking the rawness I prefer in music. Though important, it’s not an album I’ll revisit often.

It’s often hailed as one of the greatest albums of all time, so my expectations were sky-high. After giving it a proper listen, I’ve got mixed feelings about it The album's production is absolutely stunning. You can tell a lot of care went into crafting the soundscape. Tracks like "Time" and "The Great Gig in the Sky" stand out, both emotionally and musically. I also appreciated how the band tackled heavy themes like mental health and mortality, it’s thought-provoking in a way that many albums aren’t. The transitions between tracks are seamless, making the album feel like one cohesive journey. For someone who enjoys music that tells a story, this is a big plus. The experimentation with synthesizers and sound effects feels ahead of its time, too. That said, I found some of it to be a bit too self-indulgent. Tracks like "On the Run" didn’t quite hit the mark for me—it felt more like filler than a meaningful addition to the album. I also think some of the lyrics lean into abstraction so heavily that they lose emotional resonance. While I admire the artistry, I have to admit it’s not something I’d listen to regularly. It’s brilliant in parts, but as a whole, it didn’t completely captivate me. Perhaps it’s just not the style I gravitate towards most. I can see why The Dark Side of the Moon is so revered, it’s a masterpiece in many ways. But for me, it falls short of being a personal favourite. It’s worth a listen for its historical significance and creative ambition, but it’s not an album I’ll be returning to often.

As someone who’s always been drawn to the raw energy of punk rock and its ability to blend chaos with creativity, Surfer Rosa hits that sweet spot between abrasive and brilliant. this album feels like a time capsule of raw, unfiltered emotion paired with innovative soundscapes. What stands out most is how Pixies balance unpredictability with catchiness. Tracks like “Bone Machine” and “Where Is My Mind?” showcase their knack for blending haunting melodies with offbeat, experimental touches. Black Francis’ visceral, unhinged vocals are electric, and Kim Deal’s basslines and harmonies add an almost ethereal quality that contrasts beautifully with the grit. The production is another standout The stripped-down, almost live-recording vibe brings an intimacy to the album, making it feel like you’re in the room with the band as they thrash out each song. Albini’s emphasis on natural acoustics gives the album its signature edge. While the energy is relentless, it sometimes feels a little repetitive toward the back half of the album. Surfer Rosa isn’t just an album; it’s a manifesto for how punk and alternative music can push boundaries. While it might not be perfect, it’s undeniably impactful and innovative. For me, it’s a near-classic that’s as exhilarating as it is imperfect—exactly how punk rock should be.

expansive, soulful masterpiece that perfectly captures the dynamic blend of jazz, funk, and African rhythms. showcasing Masekela’s unmatched artistry as a flugelhorn player, composer, and musical visionary. The album is a stunning fusion of genres, marrying jazz improvisation with African musical traditions. Tracks like “Minawa” and “The Big Apple” exemplify this seamless integration, creating a sound that feels both rooted and exploratory. Masekela’s flugelhorn playing is deeply emotive, ranging from mellow and introspective to fiery and bold. The interplay between the instruments, especially with Larry Willis on piano and Dudu Pukwana on saxophone, is captivating. Each track offers something unique, from the meditative grooves of “Maesha” to the upbeat rhythm of “Ingoo Pow-Pow (Children’s Song). Impeccable Production, the album’s sound is warm and organic, capturing the energy of live performance while maintaining studio clarity. If I had to nitpick, the album’s length could be daunting for some listeners. At nearly an hour and a half, it demands patience and attention, which isn’t always easy in our fast-paced world. A couple of tracks, while beautifully played, could feel meandering to someone not accustomed to jazz’s exploratory nature. Home Is Where The Music Is is an album that deserves to be heard by anyone who appreciates music as an art form. It’s a stunning showcase of Hugh Masekela’s talent and vision, and it has an undeniable spirit that feels alive even decades later. Sure, it’s not casual listening, but that’s what makes it so special. For me, this album is a five-star triumph and a cornerstone of any jazz or world music collection.

As someone who loves punk rock, Smash by The Offspring is an absolute gem. This album perfectly captures the raw energy and rebellious spirit of the genre while also showcasing the band's knack for catchy melodies and biting lyrics The first thing that strikes me about Smash is its relentless pace and attitude. Tracks like "Self Esteem" and "Come Out and Play" are iconic, with their unforgettable hooks and relatable themes. Dexter Holland’s vocals balance between melodic and angsty, which works brilliantly for the album's overall vibe. Noodles' guitar work is another standout, with riffs that are as gritty as they are memorable. Lyrically, the album tackles themes like disillusionment, social alienation, and personal struggle, all of which still feel relevant today. The energy in songs like "Gotta Get Away" and the title track, "Smash," feels authentic, and the mix of aggression and melody ensures the album stays dynamic from start to finish. Another highlight is the production. Despite being independently released, it sounds polished without losing that raw punk edge. The album flows well, and it’s easy to get lost in its high-energy beats and emotionally charged moments. if i had to If I had to nit-pick, some tracks, like "Something to Believe In," feel a bit overshadowed by the album’s heavy hitters. They’re not bad, but they don’t quite have the same punch as the standouts. Additionally, while Smash stays true to its punk roots, it occasionally borders on repetitiveness, especially if you listen to it all in one go If I had to nit-pick, some tracks, like "Something to Believe In," feel a bit overshadowed by the album’s heavy hitters. They’re not bad, but they don’t quite have the same punch as the standouts. Additionally, while Smash stays true to its punk roots, it occasionally borders on repetitiveness, especially if you listen to it all in one go. it delivers relentless riffs and relatable themes. While a few tracks feel overshadowed and slightly repetitive, its impact on punk is undeniable. A must-listen for fans, it’s a fiery reminder of why punk rock remains so electrifying.

I just couldn’t connect with Heaven or Las Vegas. Don’t get me wrong—the Cocteau Twins clearly have a unique sound, and I can see why this album is considered a dream pop classic. But for me, it didn’t hit the right notes, and I struggled to enjoy it beyond a surface level. There’s no denying the ethereal quality of the album. The lush instrumentals and layered production create a dreamy, almost otherworldly vibe. If nothing else, it’s a testament to their talent for creating mood and ambiance. The band’s willingness to blur boundaries between lyrics, vocals, and instruments is interesting, even if it wasn’t to my taste. I know her voice is the heart of the Cocteau Twins’ sound, but I just couldn’t get into it. To me, it feels too floaty and impenetrable, like it’s trying to sound beautiful at the expense of being relatable. it felt too squeaky clean. It lacks the rawness or edge that would ground the music in something more real and tangible. Instead, it sounds too polished, almost too perfect. Her delivery feels distant, and the lack of clarity made it even harder for me to connect emotionally After a few tracks, everything started to blend together. The songs lack the variety or dynamism to keep me hooked from start to finish. It felt like it was all atmosphere with no substance. The entire album felt like being stuck in a dream state, beautiful but aimless. It felt like everything just melted together into one big mush. There was no real structure or dynamic to break things up, making it hard to differentiate one track from the next. I kept waiting for a moment that would resonate with me, but it never came. While I can appreciate the craftsmanship and unique vision behind Heaven or Las Vegas, it’s not an album I see myself returning to. Fraser’s vocal style, combined with the lack of emotional grounding, left me feeling more frustrated than enchanted. If you love dreamy, experimental music, this might be right up your alley but personally it just wasn’t my cup of tea.

As someone who loves music of all kinds, I went into Melodrama by Lorde with a curious mind and no real expectations. After a few listens, I find myself stuck somewhere in the middle. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it either. it’s one of those albums I appreciate more for what it’s trying to do than how much it resonates with me personally Lorde’s voice is undeniably unique, with a raw quality that cuts through the production and demands attention. Tracks like “Green Light” and “Perfect Places” stand out for their energy and clever songwriting. There’s a theatrical element to the whole album. fitting, given the title that captures the highs and lows of being young and figuring yourself out. The production is lush and detailed, with Jack Antonoff’s touch giving it an expansive yet intimate feel. I like how the album takes risks; it’s not afraid to be different or dramatic, which makes it stand out compared to other pop records That being said, some of the risks don’t entirely work for me. At times, the production feels overly cluttered, like it’s trying too hard to sound profound. A few songs, while emotional, border on feeling repetitive or drawn-out, which made it harder to stay engaged. While I respect the themes of heartbreak and self-discovery, I didn’t connect with the album as deeply as I hoped to. It’s as if I can admire it from a distance but not fully immerse myself in it. Overall, Melodrama feels like an ambitious, creative project that has its highlights but doesn’t quite land as a favorite for me. It’s solid enough that I wouldn’t skip it if it came on, but it’s not an album I’d reach for regularly. So yeah, I’m right in the middle on this one!

Rip It Up is a charming album with plenty of personality, blending funk, pop, and post-punk into a quirky package. While it has some standout moments, the album feels inconsistent, leaving me with mixed feelings overall. the guitar work is absolutely brilliant. From the jangly, upbeat strums to the more intricate riffs, it's clear that this is a key strength of the album. Every track benefits from the dynamic guitar play, and it's one of the elements that keeps me coming back to it. I really can’t get enough of it. The drums also stand out in a good way. They're simple yet incredibly effective, driving the rhythm without ever overshadowing the other elements. They keep things grounded, allowing the guitars and vocals to shine through, which is exactly what I want from a rhythm section. However, the vocals are where I feel the album falls flat. They're just bang average—there's nothing that really grabs my attention or makes them stand out. They’re fine at first, but as the album progresses, they just get more and more annoying. The monotone delivery, combined with the lack of any real emotion or character, becomes grating as time goes on, making some tracks feel like they drag unnecessarily. They're serviceable, but nothing special, and it leaves the overall vibe feeling a bit lackluster. Another big downside for me is the fake horns. I really dislike them—they sound so artificial, and they take away from the authenticity of the tracks. It’s a shame, because I feel like the album could’ve benefited from more organic instrumentation In terms of production, it’s solid, but not without its flaws. The mix is clean, but it feels a little too polished for the sound they’re going for. I was hoping for something with a bit more grit, something that could have made the album feel more raw or urgent. It doesn’t have the rough edges that would have made it stand out in the post-punk genre. Tracks like "Hokoyo" and "I Can't Help Myself" show the band's potential, but in the end, Rip It Up just feels average. It’s an album I can appreciate, but not one I feel the need to return to on repeat. It’s a decent listen, but there’s a lot more out there that does it better. Just about a 2.5

Illinois is a sprawling, intricate masterpiece that feels like stepping into a grand, cinematic world painted with sound. It's an album that’s both deeply personal and expansively ambitious, and while it doesn't hit every single note for me, it comes very close. The instrumentation is undoubtedly the star of the show here. Stevens weaves together a lush tapestry of sound, from the gentle pluck of banjos to sweeping orchestral arrangements. The strings feel warm and alive, while the woodwinds, especially the flutes and clarinets bring a whimsical, almost magical quality to tracks like "The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades." The use of piano and bells in "Chicago" creates an uplifting and anthemic energy that’s hard to resist. The production is immaculate. Every sound is crisp and clear, with each instrument given room to breathe. The way the album balances such a massive range of sounds without feeling cluttered is nothing short of masterful. It feels like a lot of care was taken to make every element shine without overshadowing the others. Lyrically, the album is poetic and thought-provoking, blending personal reflections with historical and cultural nods. Stevens’ storytelling is deeply evocative, painting vivid pictures that linger long after the music stops. At 74 minutes, it’s a bit of a marathon. Some tracks feel like they meander or stretch too far, testing patience rather than enhancing the experience. A few of the instrumental interludes, while interesting, could have been trimmed without losing the album’s overall impact. Additionally, while I love a good brass section, some of the horn arrangements occasionally veer into feeling a bit too theatrical for my taste. They can overshadow the more organic elements, which I personally find more compelling. Illinois is an extraordinary piece of work that showcases Sufjan Stevens' immense talent as a composer and storyteller. The album’s instrumental diversity and rich production make it a joy to dissect and revisit, though its length and occasional overindulgence might deter some. For me, the moments of brilliance far outweigh its flaws. If you’re in the mood for something intricate and heartfelt, Illinois is well worth the journey For anyone who loves music that’s rich in detail and layered with emotion, Illinois is a must-listen. Just be prepared to give it your full attention. it’s not background music, but rather an experience to savoir.

Illmatic isn’t just an album; it’s a masterpiece that defines what hip-hop can be. it’s still as fresh and relevant today as it was back then. For me, this is the gold standard of rap albums, and its influence is undeniable. From the first track to the last, it’s clear that this is the work of an artist who understands the power of storytelling and the craft of lyricism. There’s a timelessness to this record. The first thing to mention is Nas’ lyricism. The word "genius" gets thrown around a lot, but here, it’s entirely appropriate. Nas paints vivid scenes of life in Queensbridge with an unparalleled knack for detail, weaving tales of struggle, ambition, and survival. Lines like “I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death” from "N.Y. State of Mind" stick with you, not just for their poetry but for their raw truth. His ability to balance introspection with hard-hitting street narratives is unmatched, making Illmatic feel deeply personal yet universally resonant. Nas’ ability to craft intricate rhymes and blend personal storytelling with larger societal commentary is nothing short of brilliant. He’s got a knack for using metaphors and wordplay in ways that feel effortless, but you can tell there’s so much thought behind every bar. His flow is arguably one of the defining elements of Illmatic. it’s the perfect balance of technical skill and emotion. The production is nearly flawless. Each beat matches Nas’ lyrical prowess perfectly. The jazz-infused samples, boom-bap drums, and soulful loops provide the perfect backdrop for Nas to shine. I love how the production complements the tone of each song, from the dark, gritty feel of “N.Y. State of Mind” to the smooth, reflective atmosphere of “The World Is Yours.” The production is sophisticated yet never detracts from the raw energy of Nas' delivery. It feels almost cinematic, as though the beats are telling their own stories alongside Nas' lyrics. Tracks like “One Love” and “It Ain’t Hard to Tell” exemplify how seamlessly Nas and his producers intertwine with the instrumental layers to create an unforgettable soundscape. Every detail, from the subtle background vocals to the percussion, is meticulously placed. It’s hard to fault Illmatic, but if I had to nitpick, the brevity could leave some listeners wanting more. While its tight runtime is part of what makes it so impactful, a couple of additional tracks might have fleshed out the world Nas creates even further. Additionally, while the production is stellar, a few moments feel slightly overshadowed by the beats, making you wish Nas’ vocals were just a touch more prominent in the mix. But honestly, these are minor issues in an otherwise flawless album. Illmatic is a shining example of what happens when lyrical genius meets top-tier production. It’s raw, poetic, and utterly timeless. Nas doesn’t just rap, he educates, reflects, and takes you on a journey through his world. Whether you’re new to hip-hop or a lifelong fan, this is an album that demands to be heard. There are few records in any genre that come as close to perfection as this one does. It’s a timeless classic, and for good reason. It’s a perfect encapsulation of ’90s hip-hop at its peak and a blueprint for everything that followed. If you haven’t already, do yourself a favour and dive into Illmatic

The self-titled debut from The La’s is one of those albums that feels like a snapshot of a moment—a raw, nostalgic burst of indie brilliance that leaves you wondering what might’ve been if they’d continued creating music together. It’s a solid record with some truly memorable moments, though it doesn’t fully deliver on its potential. One thing that’s undeniable about The La’s is how well the band captures a timeless, jangly guitar sound. Tracks like “There She Goes” are undeniable earworms, with crisp, bright guitar work that feels both nostalgic and refreshing. There’s an effortless charm to the instrumentation across the album, blending elements of folk, rock, and Britpop with ease. The rhythm section keeps everything tight and grounded, leaving room for the melodies to shine. Vocally, Lee Mavers delivers a raw, unpolished performance that suits the album’s stripped-back aesthetic. His voice carries a kind of wistful vulnerability that works beautifully on tracks like “Timeless Melody.” There’s a sincerity in his delivery that draws you in, making even the simplest lyrics feel genuine and heartfelt. However, the album’s production is where things start to falter for me. The production feels overly polished, almost sterile at times, which dampens the organic energy that these songs seem to be striving for. Tracks that should feel lively and raw instead come across as slightly muted, as if their edges have been sanded down too much. Another issue is the album’s lack of variety. Many of the tracks, while individually solid, start to blur together after a while. The jangly, acoustic-driven sound is lovely, but it doesn’t evolve much across the record, leaving the second half feeling repetitive. The La’s is a frustrating listen because you can hear the brilliance bubbling just under the surface. When it’s good, it’s really good – tracks like “There She Goes” and “Timeless Melody” are proof of that. But as an album, it doesn’t fully live up to its potential.

I’ll be honest – Cross by Justice didn’t do much for me. I went in expecting something exciting, given the hype around it, but it left me cold. While I can appreciate what they were trying to achieve, the album feels more like style over substance, with only a handful of redeeming moments. By the time I reached the end, I was just relieved it was over. I’ll give credit where it’s due: the production is clean and polished. Justice knows how to craft powerful, bass-heavy tracks that fill the room. Songs like “D.A.N.C.E.” stand out with their catchy, danceable rhythm, and the vocal layering is interesting. The duo clearly has a unique style, blending disco, funk, and heavy electronic elements. It’s bold, and I can see why it resonates with some people. The use of textures and distortion adds an edge to the album, which, in theory, should create a thrilling listen. Tracks like “Phantom” do have moments where the layered synths and heavy beats come together effectively. But for me, the negatives far outweigh the positives. The album feels relentlessly chaotic, like it’s constantly trying to overwhelm the listener. Instead of creating an immersive experience, the constant barrage of noise became grating. It’s loud for the sake of being loud, and I found it exhausting rather than exciting. The tracks often lack cohesion. One minute you’re hit with blaring synths, and the next, a funk-inspired breakdown appears out of nowhere. It feels disjointed, as if Justice was throwing ideas at the wall to see what sticks. Songs like “Stress” are aptly named because that’s exactly how they made me feel – stressed out. On top of that, many tracks overstay their welcome. They build up but don’t seem to go anywhere meaningful, leaving me counting down the seconds until the next song. There’s very little breathing room on Cross, and the constant sensory assault became tiring. I found myself just wanting it to end, which is never a good sign. While some might call this style exciting or innovative, for me, it felt like overindulgence at the expense of actual enjoyment. By the time I reached the halfway mark of *Cross*, I was already desperate for it to end. The chaotic, disjointed nature of the album made listening to it feel like a chore. Each track seemed to drag on forever, and instead of getting lost in the music, I found myself constantly checking how much time was left. By the final song, I was just relieved it was over. I never want to hear this album again. It’s the kind of experience that leaves you mentally drained rather than energised. Justice may have crafted something bold and experimental, but for me, it was a relentless, unpleasant slog.

Hotel California by Eagles is an album carried almost entirely by its iconic title track. While the song "Hotel California" is a masterpiece of storytelling, musicianship, and atmosphere, the rest of the album feels disappointingly average by comparison. It’s not that the other songs are bad, but they simply don’t reach the same level of greatness, leaving the album feeling uneven. There’s no denying that the song “Hotel California” is the star of the show. From the haunting opening acoustic riff to the legendary dual guitar solo at the end, it’s a masterclass in rock composition. The lyrics are mysterious and evocative, painting a vivid picture of a surreal, almost purgatorial place. Don Henley’s vocals carry just the right mix of detachment and longing, making it an unforgettable track. It’s one of those rare songs that transcends its genre, becoming a cultural touchstone. Musically, the album as a whole is polished and well-produced. The Eagles are undeniably talented, and their blend of rock, country, and soft rock is smooth and accessible. Tracks like “Life in the Fast Lane” have energy and attitude, and “New Kid in Town” is a pleasant listen with its warm harmonies and polished arrangement. Even the more energetic tracks, like “Life in the Fast Lane,” feel like they’re trying too hard to be edgy, without achieving the same depth or intrigue as “Hotel California.” By the time you reach the second half of the album, the songs begin to blur together, leaving little to truly grab your attention. Hotel California is an album that peaks too early. The title track is so good—so iconic—that it overshadows everything else on the record. While there are moments of solid musicianship and a few enjoyable tracks, the majority of the album feels like filler in comparison. For me, it’s hard to recommend the entire album when “Hotel California” alone delivers everything you need. It’s a must-hear track on an otherwise average album. If you’re a die-hard Eagles fan or love classic rock, you might appreciate the album more, but for me, it’s a 3.2/5 at best. Great opener, forgettable rest.

I’ll be blunt: I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight is one of the most boring albums I’ve ever heard. For all the acclaim it’s received, I found it an absolute slog to get through. The vocals are so painfully average that they’re almost forgettable, the songs blend into one dull blur, and the production doesn’t help matters. To be fair, there are a couple of elements that aren’t outright terrible. The instrumentation is competent, with a few moments where the arrangements show promise. The use of traditional folk influences, like the inclusion of fiddles and brass in certain tracks, gives the album a bit of texture. The title track, “I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight,” is probably the most tolerable song here—it has a slightly livelier energy compared to the rest of the album Unfortunately, the list of negatives far outweighs any positives. Let’s start with the vocals. Richard Thompson’s singing is so bland and emotionless that it almost lulls you to sleep, and Linda Thompson doesn’t fare much better. Neither of them has the dynamic range or charisma to bring these songs to life. Their voices are technically fine but utterly unremarkable, and they lack the emotional depth needed to make these lyrics hit home. The songs themselves are equally uninspiring. “The Calvary Cross” is a plodding, dreary track that feels like it lasts twice as long as it actually does. “Withered and Died” is appropriately named—it sounds lifeless from start to finish. Even the more upbeat songs, like “Down Where the Drunkards Roll,” feel weighed down by the lacklustre vocals and sluggish pace. The production doesn’t help matters. While some might call it “intimate,” I found it flat and dull. The mix is clean enough, but there’s no vibrancy or atmosphere to draw you in. It’s all so monotone that it feels like the same song is playing over and over again. I know this album is considered a classic by some, but I just don’t see it. I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight is painfully boring, with average vocals, lifeless production, and songs that fail to leave any impression. The title track is decent, but the rest of the album feels like a chore to sit through. Not an album for me.

The Velvet Underground & Nico is nothing short of groundbreaking. It’s an album that feels raw, unfiltered, and ahead of its time. From the haunting vocals to the unique instrumentation and brilliant production, it’s an experience that leaves an impression long after the final note fades. While not perfect, its near-flawless execution makes it an essential listen for anyone who loves music with depth, grit, and artistic daring. The instrumentation on this album is absolutely phenomenal. From the hypnotic drones of John Cale’s viola to Lou Reed’s jagged, expressive guitar work, every instrument feels intentional, adding layers of emotion and texture. Tracks like “Venus in Furs” are brilliant examples of how unconventional instruments can completely transform a song’s mood—the screeching viola and eerie rhythm make it sound almost otherworldly. The production, overseen by Andy Warhol, has a raw yet intentional quality. It feels stripped down in all the right ways, allowing each instrument to stand out without overshadowing the others. There’s a lo-fi charm to the mix that gives the album an intimate, almost voyeuristic feel, as though you’re sitting in on a band rehearsal. It’s brilliant in its simplicity and adds to the album’s authenticity. Vocally, the album is a perfect mix of Lou Reed’s detached, deadpan delivery and Nico’s haunting, almost ghostly voice. Nico’s performance on “Femme Fatale” and “All Tomorrow’s Parties” is stunning—her voice feels cold yet deeply emotional, like it’s echoing through time. Lou Reed, on the other hand, has this unpolished, conversational tone that makes songs like “I’m Waiting for the Man” feel brutally honest. And then there’s Heroin. This song is nothing short of a masterpiece. The way it ebbs and flows, with its quiet, haunting verses exploding into chaotic, distorted crescendos, perfectly captures the highs and lows of addiction. The droning guitars, relentless drumming, and Lou Reed’s raw, almost confessional vocals make it one of the most powerful and emotionally impactful songs I’ve ever heard. I genuinely love this track—it’s the kind of song that stays with you long after the music stops. For all its brilliance, the album does have its flaws. Some tracks feel more like art experiments than cohesive songs. “The Black Angel’s Death Song” is a chaotic mess, and while “European Son” has moments of intrigue, it drags on unnecessarily, veering into self-indulgence. The production, while effective overall, has moments where the mix feels unbalanced. Some instruments overpower others, and while this adds to the raw aesthetic, it can make certain tracks feel messy. Despite these flaws, a nearly perfect album that balances art, experimentation, and raw emotion. The instrumentation is incredible, the production is brilliantly raw, and the vocals—both Reed’s and Nico’s—bring the songs to life. While a couple of moments might feel too abrasive or challenging a small price to pay for an album that’s as brilliant as this At 4.9/5 stars, this album is as close to perfect as it gets. It’s not just an album—it’s a statement, a work of art that continues to influence generations of musicians and listeners alike.

Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 is a stunning record that perfectly balances intricate musicianship with deeply personal lyricism. It’s an album that feels carefully crafted, yet brimming with raw emotion. From the rich instrumentation to Smith’s delicate, expressive vocals, nearly every element comes together beautifully. It’s not flawless, but its highs are so impactful that the minor shortcomings are easy to forgive. One of the standout aspects of this album is the vocals. Elliott Smith’s voice has a softness that’s incredibly intimate, drawing you in as though he’s singing directly to you. His delivery is layered with subtle emotion—wistful, melancholic, and occasionally hopeful. Tracks like “Everything Reminds Me of Her” and “Easy Way Out” highlight just how expressive his voice can be. The instrumentation is another major strength. Smith blends acoustic and electric guitars seamlessly, creating lush soundscapes that feel rich but never overbearing. The piano work throughout the album adds a sense of grandeur The production, handled by Tom Rothrock, Rob Schnapf, and Smith himself, is stellar. Every detail feels intentional, from the subtle strings in “Easy Way Out” to the swirling, Beatles-esque instrumentation on “Stupidity Tries.” The layering of instruments and vocals is complex but never overwhelming—it’s clear Smith knew exactly how to bring his vision to life. Elliott has a way of turning deeply personal experiences into universally relatable stories. Whether he’s singing about heartbreak, self-doubt, or fleeting moments of joy, his words feel painfully honest Figure 8 is a near-perfect album that shows Elliott Smith as a fantastic songwriter, vocalist, and musician. His voice is haunting and intimate, the instrumentation is lush and detailed, and the lyrics are emotionally raw yet poetic. While I miss some of the rougher edges of his earlier work, the polished production suits the grander vision of this album. This album feels like a conversation with a friend who’s baring their soul—it’s intimate, beautiful, and unforgettable. A solid 4.8/5 for me, and a record I’ll keep returning to for years to come.

I found LP1 to be a frustrating experience. The album feels like one big chaotic mess, with very few redeeming qualities to hold onto. Between the erratic production, lacklustre lyrics, and vocals that just didn’t work for me, this was a difficult listen from start to finish. There are moments where the production shows glimmers of creativity. Tracks like “Two Weeks” and “Pendulum” have some intriguing textures and experimental beats that stand out. The use of layered sounds and offbeat rhythms hints at the artistic ambition behind the album. I can appreciate the effort to push boundaries and explore something unconventional. Unfortunately, the negatives outweigh the positives by a long shot. The biggest issue for me is the vocals. FKA twigs’ voice is breathy and delicate, but it ends up sounding more like a whisper that struggles to convey any real emotion or power. On tracks like “Closer” and “Give Up,” her delivery feels strained and grating, making it hard to connect with the music. Rather than drawing me in, her voice constantly pulled me out of the experience. The production, while occasionally interesting, is all over the place. There’s a lack of cohesion that makes the album feel disjointed and messy. Songs often feel overproduced, with so many layers competing for attention that it becomes overwhelming. Tracks like “Video Girl” and “Lights On” are prime examples of this. the beats are so chaotic that they drown out any potential emotional depth. The lyrics do absolutely nothing for me. They feel vague and unengaging, lacking the kind of sharpness or depth that could elevate the music. Lines like “When I trust you we can do it with the lights on” come off as cliché rather than meaningful. Across the album, the lyrics feel like an afterthought, leaving me searching for substance and coming up empty. i don't care for this album, it just doesn’t work for me on almost any level. The vocals are weak, the production is chaotic and unfocused, and the lyrics fail to connect. While there are brief moments of intrigue in the production, they’re not enough to save the album from feeling like an overproduced, messy experiment. For me, it’s a 2/5. Ambition alone isn’t enough, it has to be backed up by execution, and LP1 just doesn’t deliver.

Roxy Music’s For Your Pleasure is a beautifully layered, experimental album that blends art rock with glam, delivering some stunning moments but also a few missteps along the way. While I can appreciate the band’s bold vision and unique sound, it doesn’t always fully connect with me. There’s plenty to enjoy here The instrumentation on For Your Pleasure is where the album really shines. Brian Eno’s atmospheric synth work brings an avant-garde edge to tracks like “The Bogus Man” and “In Every Dream Home a Heartache,” creating a textured, ethereal sound that’s unlike anything I’ve heard before. The seamless blending of rock, electronic, and orchestral elements gives the album a cinematic quality, with some tracks feeling almost like an immersive experience. instrumentation is striking, with Phil Manzanera's sharp, hypnotic guitar work and Andy Mackay's jazzy, soulful saxophone. "In Every Dream Home a Heartache" exemplifies Roxy Music's ability to blend art rock with pop structures, maintaining experimentation while staying accessible. The mix is near perfect, with every element carefully crafted and each instrument placed precisely where it belongs. Bryan Ferry’s smooth, seductive vocals sit beautifully against the lush, layered arrangements. The production’s intricate details shine through, from the ambient synths and sharp guitar riffs to the rolling basslines. The clarity and attention to detail make the album come alive, letting you appreciate the subtle nuances of each track, adding depth and richness to the overall listening experience Not every track resonates with me. Some feel like filler, lacking the impact needed to grab my attention. "Strictly Confidential" has a groove that doesn’t engage, and the song goes nowhere. Similarly, "The Bogus Man" feels too long, with its meandering structure and repetitive sections, ultimately becoming tedious I appreciate the album for its inventiveness and eclectic blend of sounds, but not every track resonates with me. Standout moments like “Do the Strand” and “In Every Dream Home a Heartache” shine, but some tracks feel flat or overly experimental for my taste. While I recognize the artistry and influence, it’s a mixed bag overall. It lands somewhere in the middle for me, at a 3.5/5 definitely worth a listen for its moments of brilliance, though.

Tina Turner’s Private Dancer is an undeniable showcase of her powerhouse vocals. It’s packed with memorable hits, emotional depth, and a sense of raw power that’s undeniable. While not every song resonates on the same level, the album as a whole is a testament to Turner’s artistry and determination. The first thing that grabs me is Tina Turner’s voice. it’s phenomenal. Her raspy, powerful delivery carries so much emotion, and she balances vulnerability and strength with ease. Tracks like “What’s Love Got to Do with It” are iconic for a reason; her performance is both tender and commanding, making the song unforgettable. The production is polished, blending 80s flair with timeless appeal. Synths, crisp guitars, and steady rhythms create a rich soundscape. “Private Dancer” shines with its haunting, moody arrangement, perfectly matching Tina Turner’s soulful delivery. Mark Knopfler’s masterful guitar work adds depth and sophistication, elevating the track to an unforgettable level of artistry. While the production is strong, it occasionally feels too polished, especially on the uptempo tracks. The 80s influence works well but can make some songs feel slick and impersonal. At times, there’s a longing for a rawer, grittier edge that would allow Tina Turner’s powerful voice to take centre stage even more, offering a more intimate, authentic listening experience. The album boasts strong songwriting, exploring themes of independence, heartbreak, and empowerment. “Better Be Good to Me” stands out as a fiery anthem, resonating as a personal statement from Tina Turner. Her cover of Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” is a standout reinterpretation, infusing the classic with her unique flair and soulful energy, making it truly her own. Private Dancer is a testament to Tina Turner’s incredible talent and resilience. Her powerful voice elevates even the weaker tracks, with highlights like “What’s Love Got to Do with It,” “Private Dancer,” and “Let’s Stay Together” being unforgettable. Though some songs feel dated or overproduced, the album remains a strong statement of Turner’s artistry. A solid 4.3/5 from me.

Parachutes, Coldplay’s debut album, is a deeply emotional and timeless masterpiece. With its intimate, melodic, and stripped-down quality, it captures raw emotion and showcases beautifully simple songwriting. Despite minor imperfections, it solidified the band’s reputation as one of the most resonant acts of the 2000s, leaving a lasting impression with its heartfelt and moving tracks At its core, the album’s standout feature is its genuine emotional resonance, driven by Chris Martin’s soft yet powerful vocals. His delivery carries a raw vulnerability, particularly on tracks like Yellow and Trouble, making the lyrics deeply relatable and impactful. The instrumentation is a masterclass in understated beauty. Acoustic guitar-driven melodies, paired with subtle piano and atmospheric layers, create a warm, intimate soundscape. Coldplay avoids overcomplication, focusing instead on letting the melodies shine. Songs like Don’t Panic and Shiver exemplify this approach, blending lush arrangements with a restrained, unpretentious style. Ken Nelson’s production plays a key role in the album’s success. The clean and crisp sound allows every element of the band’s performance to breathe, creating a mix where each nuance is clearly audible—from gentle guitar strums to the atmospheric touches that enrich tracks like Sparks. This meticulous production enhances the album’s intimate and personal feel, as though it was crafted just for the listener. Lyrically, Parachutes explores themes of love, loss, and longing with a poetic yet simple approach. The lyrics, while not overly complex, carry a universal appeal through their introspective tone. Lines like “I’ll be ‘round, I’ll be loving you always” from Sparks encapsulate the album’s emotional accessibility, connecting deeply with the listener on a personal level. Parachutes shines with Martin’s emotive vocals, beautiful instrumentation, and impeccable production, making its minor flaws easily forgivable. Its genuine and soothing quality makes it a timeless go-to album, earning a strong 4.7/5 and showcasing why Coldplay became so beloved

Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!, is a wild ride of quirky, robotic energy that’s both fascinating and occasionally frustrating. It’s an album that takes risks and doesn’t shy away from its weirdness, which I respect, but it’s also one that left me feeling conflicted at times. The creativity on this album is top-tier. Devo’s willingness to push boundaries and defy conventional rock norms is impressive. Tracks like “Uncontrollable Urge” and “Mongoloid” are brimming with manic energy, blending robotic precision with punk chaos in a way that feels totally fresh. The angular guitar riffs and tight, punchy rhythms really drive the album, giving it an almost mechanical groove that’s hard not to appreciate. Brian Eno's bold, experimental production shapes the album’s futuristic soundscape. Layered synths, jagged guitars, and off-kilter arrangements create a detailed and dynamic experience. Odd sound effects and unexpected textures emerge throughout, enhancing the album's eccentric charm and pushing sonic boundaries. While the instrumentation excels, the vocals are a weak point. Mark Mothersbaugh’s distinctive voice fits the style but is often buried in the mix, making it hard to connect with the songs. Tracks like “Too Much Paranoias” and “Praying Hands” suffer most, with the vocals lost amidst the chaotic instrumentation, affecting overall clarity. Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! is a bold, creative album brimming with originality, though uneven vocal mixing and patchy tracks hold it back. Devo’s quirky energy and boundary-pushing sound shine, delivering moments of brilliance. While not perfect, its uniqueness makes it worth exploring. A solid 3.4/5—interesting, but not entirely revisitable.

Getz/Gilberto is a gorgeous blend of smooth jazz and bossa nova that feels timeless. It’s the kind of album that effortlessly transports you to a tranquil, sun-soaked evening. While it’s not without its flaws, the artistry and near-perfect mix make it a memorable experience that’s hard to forget. the mix is ridiculously near perfect. Every instrument, every vocal line, every delicate detail is balanced so well that it feels like you’re in the room with the musicians. The gentle interplay between Stan Getz’s tenor saxophone and João Gilberto’s guitar is simply magical, and it’s all captured with such clarity and warmth that you can hear the emotion in every note. Getz’s saxophone playing is smooth, lyrical, and deeply captivating, as if it sings its own language of beauty and longing. Tracks like The Girl from Ipanema and Corcovado showcase his rich, velvety tone and emotional depth. Every solo feels perfectly placed, highlighting his ability to convey profound feelings without words. João Gilberto’s guitar and vocals are captivating, with his soft, intimate singing adding warmth to the album and his rhythmic guitar providing a hypnotic foundation. Astrud Gilberto’s breathy vocals on The Girl from Ipanema enhance the allure of the track. The production is flawless, with a warm, timeless sound and seamless arrangements that flow effortlessly. The album exemplifies restraint, where nothing feels overdone, and every note is perfectly placed to serve the music’s beauty. It’s a masterclass in subtlety and elegance. The album cover perfectly captures the album’s serene and elegant vibe. The soft, muted colours and the intimate portrait of João Gilberto and Stan Getz mirror the smooth, calming nature of the music itself. It’s simple yet sophisticated, reflecting the bossa nova’s understated beauty and warmth, making it an ideal visual counterpart to the tranquil, sensual atmosphere of the album. while most of the tracks are undeniably beautiful, the album does lean heavily on its laid-back vibe, which can make it feel a bit one-dimensional after a while. There’s not a lot of variation in tempo or mood, so some tracks can blur together if you’re not fully immersed. Getz/Gilberto is a near-masterpiece, blending jazz and bossa nova with the talents of Stan Getz, João Gilberto, and Antônio Carlos Jobim. The mix is near-flawless, with music that’s simple yet elegant. While some tracks can feel mellow or fade into the background, the highlights more than make up for it. It’s a perfect album for relaxing and letting the music wash over you. A solid 4.8/5 it may not be perfect, but it’s undeniably special.

In A Silent Way by Miles Davis is a fusion of jazz and ambient soundscapes, blending expansive and intimate elements. This near-perfect masterpiece demands full attention, rewarding listeners with its intricate beauty. While it excels in many ways, minor flaws prevent it from achieving absolute perfection. The album's dynamic range is exceptional, seamlessly transitioning from delicate, hushed moments to powerful crescendos. Every shift in volume and intensity feels intentional and masterfully executed, drawing listeners into quiet subtleties one moment and captivating them with the ensemble's sheer power the next. the instrumentation is stunning, with Miles Davis’ restrained yet expressive trumpet carefully balanced, allowing other musicians to shine. John McLaughlin’s guitar adds an ethereal quality, especially on the title track, with his minimalist approach acting as a thread weaving everything together. Teo Macero's production is genius, seamlessly splicing and editing takes to create In A Silent Way's hypnotic, cohesive structure. The album feels like a single, flowing piece of art rather than separate tracks. The immaculate layering ensures each instrument has its space while blending together perfectly. While In A Silent Way offers a meditative, almost hypnotic feel, it’s not a record for casual listening. It demands full attention, and if you're not in the right mood, the long, sprawling compositions might seem meandering. Some might find its minimalist approach too sparse, and the slow pace could be off-putting, particularly for those accustomed to Davis' more fiery early works. However, this minimalist style works in the album's favour, enhancing its introspective nature. In A Silent Way is a groundbreaking album that redefined jazz, with its dynamic range, innovative production, and seamless musician interplay. Timeless and as fresh today as in 1969, it's an almost perfect record. While its minimalist style may not suit every mood or taste, the unmatched atmosphere it creates makes it a deeply immersive experience. A well-deserved 4.9/5.

an album packed with raw emotion, storytelling, and some truly phenomenal vocal performances. It’s a project that blends R&B, neo-soul, and spoken-word interludes to create an intimate and honest exploration of love, relationships, and self-worth. While it has moments of brilliance, there are also a few things that hold it back from being a truly outstanding album for me. Jazmine Sullivan’s Heaux Tales is defined by her stunning vocals—powerful, controlled, and deeply emotional. Tracks like Lost One and Pick Up Your Feelings highlight her effortless switch between vulnerability and powerhouse belting. Rich harmonies, layered textures, and gospel influences elevate the vocal production, making it a standout feature. The production is smooth and well-balanced, with a clean mix that perfectly places vocals and instruments. It shifts between minimalist moments, like the acoustic Girl Like Me, and fuller tracks like Price Tags. Rich, warm beats blend classic R&B with modern influences, creating a fresh yet familiar sound. Lyrically, while the themes of empowerment and self-discovery are strong, some of the messages feel a bit repetitive. The album sticks closely to its concept, which is great for cohesion, but it also means that by the end, it feels like you’ve already heard variations of the same ideas multiple times Heaux Tales is an emotionally rich album showcasing Jazmine Sullivan’s stunning vocals and sharp storytelling. Strong harmonies and production elevate it, but excessive interludes and some weaker tracks lessen its impact. While moments of brilliance shine, the album isn’t consistently engaging. Still, Sullivan’s voice makes it worth a listen. A solid 3.7/5 with flashes of greatness.

I went into Merriweather Post Pavilion with an open mind, given all the praise it’s received over the years. People call it a modern psychedelic masterpiece, an album that reshaped indie music, but honestly? It did absolutely nothing for me whatsoever. From start to finish, I found myself waiting for something—anything—to click, but it never happened. It’s a wall of sound that feels more like a chore than an immersive experience, and by the end, I was just relieved it was over. I won’t deny that Animal Collective had a vision with this album. The production is dense, layered, and full of swirling textures. The electronic elements are interesting in theory, and I can appreciate the attempt at crafting a dreamlike, otherworldly atmosphere. Tracks like “My Girls” at least have a structure that makes sense, and the synth-driven melodies on some songs are admittedly creative. The harmonies, when they work, have an eerie, hypnotic quality that could be enjoyable under the right circumstances. Merriweather Post Pavilion is an overwhelming, chaotic experience that never resonated with me. The album is cluttered, repetitive, and lacks the emotional depth needed to make its psychedelic haze feel meaningful. Instead of feeling transported, I felt trapped in a dense, overstimulating dream with no real payoff. The vocals, drenched in effects and buried in the mix, feel more like background noise than a driving force, making the songs feel distant and aimless rather than engaging. There’s an attempt at warmth, but it never lands, coming off as an echo chamber of abstract musings rather than anything emotionally gripping. Lyrically, there’s little to hold onto—just vague phrases layered over instrumentals that feel more like experiments in sound than structured songs. Tracks like Summertime Clothes and Daily Routine rely too much on repetition, blending together until they become indistinguishable. The album's biggest flaw is its lack of dynamics; it stays in one shimmering, busy space for too long without any real progression. Even supposed highlights like Brother Sport just extend the same swirling noise, never evolving into something more. Ultimately, the album felt like an exhausting, directionless listen that never connected with me. Merriweather Post Pavilion is ambitious and experimental, but it didn’t connect with me. The overwhelming production, repetitive structures, and washed-out vocals made it frustrating rather than enjoyable. I kept hoping it would improve, but it just felt like background noise that dragged on. Emotionally and musically, it never resonated, making it a disappointing listen. I doubt I’ll revisit it—1.9/5.

Violent Femmes is an album that feels raw, unfiltered, and strangely charming in its own way. It’s rough around the edges, full of angsty energy, and packed with infectious melodies that stick with you. The blend of folk, punk, and new wave makes for a unique listening experience, and while it’s not perfect, there’s something undeniably enjoyable about how loose and spontaneous it feels. The best thing about this album is how immediate and stripped-down it is. It doesn’t rely on flashy production or overcomplicated arrangements—just acoustic guitars, a punchy rhythm section, and Gordon Gano’s unmistakable voice. It has this unpolished, almost demo-like quality that actually works in its favour, giving it a rawness that makes the songs hit harder. The harmonies are another highlight. They sound very pleasing and work really well, especially on tracks like “Blister in the Sun” and “Please Do Not Go.” They add just enough depth to balance out Gano’s nasal, almost bratty vocal style, which might not be for everyone but suits the album’s youthful energy. The acoustic bass work from Brian Ritchie is also worth mentioning. It gives the album a unique rhythm that’s both bouncy and aggressive, driving the songs forward in a way that makes even the slower moments feel lively. The stripped-back arrangements make every instrument stand out, and that clarity makes for a fun, engaging listen. The album’s energy is infectious, but its rawness sometimes backfires. Some tracks feel overly rough and could’ve used more polish. and while the loose, jam-like feel adds charm, it occasionally lacks direction. Gano’s vocals are an acquired taste. while I don’t love or hate them, they sometimes verge on whiny, making certain tracks a bit grating. Violent Femmes is a raw, fun, and undeniably unique album. The harmonies work really well, adding warmth to the otherwise rough and sometimes chaotic performances. The songwriting is sharp, the energy is infectious, and when it works, it really works. That said, it’s not a flawless record. The roughness, while charming, sometimes feels undercooked. Gano’s vocals can be polarising, and the production, while fitting for the style, could’ve used a bit more depth. Still, it’s an album with a strong identity. A solid 4.2/5.

Pixies have always had a way of blending chaos and melody into something uniquely their own, and Bossanova is no exception. While it might not be as raw or unpredictable as Surfer Rosa or Doolittle, it still delivers some incredible moments, with a surf-rock edge that sets it apart from their earlier work. The album leans heavily into spacey, atmospheric sounds, but what really stands out to me is the guitar, it’s just fantastic throughout. Joey Santiago's guitar work on Bossanova is sharp, creative, and drenched in reverb, giving the album a hazy, cinematic feel. Tracks like “Cecilia Ann” and “Rock Music” hit hard with raw riffs, while “Velouria” and “The Happening” explore dreamy textures. The spot-on guitar tone elevates the record throughout. Black Francis' vocals are wild yet more controlled, blending yelps with restraint to match the album's vibe. His contrast with Kim Deal’s harmonies adds depth, shining on tracks like “Is She Weird” and “Allison.” The album’s polished production keeps the Pixies' off-kilter energy intact. A clean mix highlights tight drumming and melodic bass, ensuring even the weirder tracks feel cohesive and well-balanced. Bossanova leans even more into abstract lyrics, with Black Francis’ surreal style feeling vaguer than usual. While this detached approach suits the album’s aesthetic, it lacks some of the sharp storytelling of earlier records. Bossanova isn’t my favorite Pixies album, but it’s a fantastic listen. The top-tier guitar work, crisp production, and spacey surf-rock vibe give it a unique identity. It’s more polished than earlier records, losing some raw intensity but gaining atmospheric depth. A solid 4.2/5, especially for the guitar.

There’s something about The Modern Lovers that just works for me. It’s raw, it’s weirdly charming, and it’s got that perfect mix of punk energy and off-kilter storytelling. This album feels like proto-punk at its absolute best—before the genre was fully formed, but still carrying all the restless energy, sharp wit, and stripped-down instrumentation that made punk what it became. It’s got that garage-band simplicity, but the songs are packed with personality and a sense of urgency that I love. This album nails the attitude of early punk. Jonathan Richman’s lyrics blend sarcasm, sincerity, and a weird wholesomeness. Instead of sneering rebellion, he offers awkward honesty, romantic frustration, and a nerdy love for Boston and old-school values. It shouldn’t work, but it does. Tracks like “Roadrunner” and “Pablo Picasso” mix deadpan humour with real emotion in a way that feels truly unique. Speaking of “Roadrunner”—what a song. It’s one of the best punk songs ever written, and I’ll stand by that. The simple, two-chord structure, the driving rhythm, and Richman’s monotone, almost spoken delivery make it feel like the Velvet Underground sped up and stripped down to its essentials. It’s repetitive in the best way, building and building until you’re completely sucked in. It’s a song that makes you want to get in a car, roll the windows down, and just go. The album’s guitar work is raw and minimalistic, like the Stooges or early Velvet Underground—tight, punchy riffs with no frills. “Old World” and “Someone I Care About” showcase jagged garage-rock energy, while “Astral Plane” adds an eerie, detached feel, enhancing the album’s strange charm. The production is also exactly what it should be. It’s lo-fi but not muddy, keeping that live, unpolished feel while still allowing every instrument to stand out. The keyboards add a quirky, almost robotic texture that gives the album a weird but cool dynamic. It’s simple, it’s direct, and it fits the sound perfectly. The Modern Lovers feels both ahead of its time and timeless—raw, weird, and full of personality. The guitar work, deadpan vocals, and dry humour make it stand out, even among punk classics. Some tracks falter, and the production is thin, but it hardly matters. Proof that punk is about attitude, not just aggression. 4.7/5—an absolute classic that still feels fresh.

If there’s a perfect punk album, GI might just be it. From start to finish, it’s raw, chaotic, and absolutely relentless. There’s no polish, no pretension just pure, unfiltered energy blasted out at full speed. It’s the kind of album that doesn’t just sound aggressive; it feels aggressive, like it could fall apart at any second but never actually does. Every element works together to create something that feels like a total force of nature, and I can’t think of a single second that doesn’t hit exactly the way it should. The Positives First and foremost, the sheer energy of GI is unbelievable. There’s an urgency to this album that very few others capture. From the opening seconds of “What We Do Is Secret,” it’s clear this isn’t going to be a standard punk record. it’s something wilder, faster, and completely untamed. The songs don’t waste time. They explode into action, burn out fast, and leave behind nothing but the wreckage of whatever just happened. Darby Crash’s vocals are some of the most unhinged I’ve ever heard, and they completely make the album. He doesn’t just sing. he slurs, shouts, howls, and drags every syllable through the dirt. His voice is a mess in the best way, making every lyric sound even more chaotic and nihilistic. His delivery on “Richie Dagger’s Crime” and “Lexicon Devil” is iconic, and the way he sneers through “Manimal” is almost hypnotic. Pat Smear’s guitar work is another massive highlight. The riffs are sharp, heavy, and incredibly tight. far more technical than a lot of punk at the time. His playing doesn’t just add aggression; it defines the entire sound of the album. Tracks like “Strange Notes” and “Land of Treason” are absolutely blistering, with a mix of classic punk fury and an almost proto-hardcore precision. Then there’s the drumming. Don Bolles is an absolute machine, keeping everything moving at breakneck speed but never losing control. His performance on songs like “Media Blitz” and “Dragon Lady” is unreal, with fills that feel like they’re being thrown in randomly but land perfectly every time. The bass, courtesy of Lorna Doom, is raw and driving, adding to the album’s sense of reckless momentum. And I have to mention the production—Joan Jett did an insane job behind the scenes. This could have easily been another lo-fi, muddy punk album, but instead, it sounds sharp and massive. It’s still rough and dirty, but every instrument cuts through clearly. The mix is aggressive without feeling blown out, and the balance between the instruments and Darby’s wild vocals is near perfect. The Negatives Honestly, the only real “negative” is that it’s not for everyone. If you’re not into punk that sounds like a complete breakdown happening in real time, this album might be overwhelming. Darby’s vocals can be an acquired taste, especially on tracks like “Manimal” where he goes full insanity mode. But for me, that’s a strength rather than a flaw. If I had to nitpick, I’d say some of the songs feel like they end before they even begin, but that’s also part of the appeal. They hit fast, do their damage, and then vanish before you have time to fully process them. The Songs “Lexicon Devil” is probably the most well-known track here, and for good reason. It’s got one of the best punk riffs ever, and Darby’s vocals are at their absolute peak. It’s aggressive, unpredictable, and completely addicting. “What We Do Is Secret” sets the tone immediately—fast, disorienting, and completely unhinged. “Richie Dagger’s Crime” has a slightly more controlled feel, but the sneering vocal delivery gives it this weird, menacing charm. “Strange Notes” is one of the heaviest tracks here, with a brutal guitar tone that makes it sound like it's ripping through the speakers. “Media Blitz” is just pure speed, with some of the best drumming on the album, and “Dragon Lady” has this weird, twisting rhythm that somehow still fits perfectly into the chaos. And then there’s “Shutdown (Annihilation Man).” It’s the longest track by far, completely different from everything else on the album, and one of the most hypnotic things the Germs ever recorded. It’s like the entire album collapsing in slow motion, stretching out into this noisy, drugged-out dirge that somehow still works as a closer. Final Thoughts GI is an absolute masterpiece. It’s fast, it’s loud, it’s messy, but every second of it is completely alive. The combination of Darby’s reckless vocals, Pat Smear’s razor-sharp guitar work, Lorna Doom’s relentless basslines, and Don Bolles’ machine-gun drumming makes this one of the most essential punk albums ever made. It’s near perfection. 5/5.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road feels like a classic from the first note. Grand and ambitious, it showcases Elton John's versatility beyond piano ballads, blending rock, glam, storytelling, and hints of prog. Packed with some of his best songwriting, its length never drags thanks to perfect pacing, keeping each track fresh and engaging. A timeless masterpiece that defines his artistry. The songwriting on Goodbye Yellow Brick Road is exceptional. Bernie Taupin’s vivid, poetic lyrics create grand, emotional stories, from the nostalgia of the title track to the raw storytelling of Candle in the Wind. Elton John masterfully transforms these words into melodies, ensuring every line resonates. His ability to craft songs that feel both intimate and larger-than-life is truly remarkable. The album’s variety is a major strength. High-energy rock anthems like Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting burst with distorted guitars and swagger, while the theatrical Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding opens with a dramatic instrumental before launching into epic rock. Tracks like Grey Seal and Your Sister Can’t Twist show Elton’s ability to rock just as hard as he delivers ballads, proving his versatility and dynamic range. Despite its 75-minute length and wide variety of styles, the album flows seamlessly. Each song feels essential, and the balance between grand, emotional moments and fun, upbeat tracks keeps it fresh and engaging. The pacing ensures it never drags, maintaining a consistent energy that keeping me invested from start to finish. The main issue with the album is Elton’s high-pitched falsetto at times. While he has an incredible vocal range, on tracks like Bennie and the Jets, his falsetto can feel a bit overwhelming. It’s not necessarily bad, but in certain moments, it feels a little too much and doesn’t always sit right, slightly detracting from the overall experience. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road is one of Elton John’s greatest works, showcasing his ambition and versatility beyond piano-driven pop. The top-tier songwriting and rich, varied instrumentals make it a standout, with only a few weaker moments. While not perfect, its highs more than make up for the flaws. A masterpiece that earns a solid 4.2/5.

There’s no denying that Straight Outta Compton is an important album. It helped define gangsta rap, pushed boundaries, and made an impact that still echoes through hip-hop today. But for me, it’s always been an album I respected more than I actually liked. It has moments of brilliance, but overall, it just feels messy, awkward, and like something I could never fully resonate with. The album radiates undeniable energy, with N.W.A. launching in full force on the title track. Aggressive, uncompromising verses are set against a backdrop of heavy, raw West Coast beats, crafted mainly by Dr Dre and DJ Yella. Lyrically, the album takes no prisoners—tracks like “Straight Outta Compton” and “F*** tha Police” confront issues such as police brutality and urban strife head-on. Ice Cube delivers his verses with searing intensity, while Eazy-E’s unique, high-pitched yet menacing delivery lends a distinct flavour, making tracks like “8 Ball” and “Dopeman” particularly memorable. The album feels messy and inconsistent. While some tracks are fully formed, others seem barely held together, largely due to jarring transitions between politically charged, aggressive songs and ones that are cartoonishly over-the-top. The shifts in tone disrupt any consistent feel, making the album appear disjointed. Lyrically, despite bold statements, the violent and misogynistic themes often come off as excessive and dated, leaning more towards shock value than meaningful commentary. Additionally, although there’s undeniable chemistry among the members, certain flows—especially Dre’s—can feel awkward compared to Cube’s natural aggression and Eazy-E’s charismatic delivery. Straight Outta Compton is rightfully hailed for breaking barriers and shaping hip-hop, boasting undeniable moments of brilliance. However, as a complete album, it feels too messy and inconsistent, with awkward transitions and delivery issues that detract from its appeal. While there are noteworthy tracks, the overall experience doesn't compel repeat listens, earning it an underwhelming 3/5.

I can appreciate The New Tango for what it is—a masterclass in musicianship and innovation. Astor Piazzolla took traditional tango and reshaped it into something entirely new, blending it with jazz and classical influences. There’s no denying the sheer talent on display here, but at the end of the day, tango just isn’t my cup of tea. While I respect the artistry, it never fully clicks with me. The musicianship is ridiculous. Piazzolla’s bandoneón playing is expressive and full of character, weaving intricate melodies that feel both nostalgic and adventurous. The way he interacts with the other instruments, particularly the violin and piano is stunning, creating a constant push and pull of tension. You can feel the depth of emotion in tracks like Milonga del Angel, where every note seems to sigh with longing. The fusion of tango with jazz elements makes the album stand out. It’s not just dance music; it’s deeply layered, full of unexpected turns and dynamic shifts. Adiós Nonino is a perfect example. it starts off gentle, then builds into something far more intense, with moments that feel almost improvisational. Even though I’m not big on tango, I can’t deny that the arrangements here are masterful. That said, this album just doesn’t resonate with me. No matter how much I try to get into it, tango as a genre feels too dramatic and theatrical for my taste. There’s a certain flair to the way the melodies unfold that I can admire from a distance, but I don’t feel the connection that others do. Some tracks, like Michelangelo 70, feel a bit overwhelming, packed with flourishes that border on excessive. The intensity can be impressive, but sometimes it just washes over me rather than pulling me in. It’s the kind of album where I can appreciate the skill but don’t find myself emotionally engaged. The New Tango is an album I respect more than I enjoy. Piazzolla’s talent is undeniable, and the musicianship is fantastic, but tango as a whole just isn’t for me. If you’re into expressive, dramatic instrumentals, this might be a masterpiece. For me, it’s an intriguing listen, but not one I’ll be returning to often. A well-earned 3.3/5.

this band made a career playing other people music. so i have nothing to say and will not listen to it

I’ve listened to Licensed to Ill more times than I care to admit, and no matter how many times I give it a chance, it just never resonates with me. Despite all the hype surrounding its groundbreaking status in hip-hop history, for me, this album is a chaotic jumble of shock value and juvenile antics that ultimately feels messy and unfulfilling. I’ll give credit where it’s due: the album does have a few redeeming qualities. There’s an undeniable raw energy to the production that captures the rebellious spirit of its era. A couple of tracks, like “Fight for Your Right,” have a catchy hook and an aggressive drive that might have appealed to the early hip-hop crowd. The beats are bold and, in some ways, innovative for its time. There’s also a sense of fun and unfiltered attitude in the delivery that, if you’re into that kind of over-the-top bravado, could be seen as a positive. For me, the overwhelming issue is that the album feels messy and disjointed from start to finish. The production is frantic and lacks finesse—layers of noise and samples are piled on top of each other in a way that feels haphazard rather than innovative. This chaotic mix often results in a muddled sound where nothing really stands out or gives a sense of purpose. Lyrically, the album comes across as immature and overly reliant on crude humour. The shock value that some critics applaud feels forced and repetitive, and the vulgarity doesn’t translate into any real substance or cleverness for me. Instead of offering insightful commentary or artistry, the words seem designed solely to offend or provoke without any meaningful payoff. Moreover, I find the overall attitude and delivery to be grating. The aggressive posturing and abrasive vocal style—intended to be rebellious—simply come off as contrived and tiresome. There’s a sense that every song is trying too hard to be edgy, resulting in awkward moments where the intended cool factor evaporates into irritation. Licensed to Ill is a prime example of an album that’s all hype and little substance. Sure, it has a few moments of raw energy and catchy hooks, but overall it’s a messy, awkward, and juvenile collection that I just can’t get behind. Despite its cultural impact, it simply doesn’t work for me. At 1/5 stars this album did nothing for me beyond a fleeting burst of controversy that quickly faded into forgettable noise.

I’ve always had a soft spot for Frank Sinatra, not least because I grew up with his voice as the backdrop to my childhood. My mother would play Sinatra in the kitchen while she cooked, filling our home with his smooth, swinging melodies. That nostalgic connection has forever linked me to his music, yet when I listen to Songs For Swingin’ Lovers! now, I find that while it brings back fond memories, it doesn’t fully meet my expectations as an adult listener. Despite these positives, there are notable drawbacks. The overall sound of the album feels very dated to me. Listening to it now, it seems like a relic from another era, and the style hasn’t aged as gracefully as I would have hoped. The songs, while technically sound, can come across as monotonous. There isn’t much dynamic variation in Sinatra’s delivery—often, his performance feels subdued, lacking the spark or excitement that might have been more engaging at the time. Moreover, the arrangements, although rich in detail, sometimes overwhelm the vocals rather than complementing them, leaving little room for the emotional nuances that I once connected with. The overall pacing of the album can feel sluggish, making it hard to stay fully engaged throughout its entirety. Songs For Swingin' Lovers! holds a special place in my heart because of the fond memories associated with it. My mother’s love for Sinatra introduced me to a world of smooth melodies and elegant swing, which I still admire from a distance. However, in my current listening experience, the album feels a bit like a time capsule. nice to reminisce over, but not something I would actively seek out. For me, it’s a solid 3.1/5 a nostalgic gem that unfortunately hasn’t quite kept up with the test of time.

he Marshall Mathers LP is a landmark in hip-hop that resonates as a true masterpiece. Eminem’s lyricism on this album is nothing short of extraordinary—every line is meticulously crafted with wit, raw emotion, and biting social commentary. I absolutely love how his lyrics cut deep, revealing both his personal struggles and his razor-sharp critique of society. One of the most impressive aspects of this album is Eminem’s flow. His delivery is fantastically fluid and dynamic, shifting effortlessly from rapid-fire verses to more deliberate, contemplative moments. Whether he’s spitting out intricate rhymes or pausing for dramatic effect, his flow keeps you hooked from start to finish. Tracks like “Stan” and “The Way I Am” showcase this prowess perfectly, where his cadence and timing elevate the storytelling to an almost cinematic level. The production throughout The Marshall Mathers LP is near perfect. Every beat and sample is carefully layered to complement the narrative. The dark, moody instrumentals set a fitting backdrop for his introspective and often confrontational lyrics. The balance between raw energy and polished production creates an immersive soundscape that pulls you into his world. I find that the seamless blend of innovative beats with his explosive vocal delivery is one of the main reasons the album stands out even years after its release. That said, there are times when the album can feel too aggressive for aggressive's sake. Some moments come off as relentlessly hostile, where the intensity seems dialed up to 11 simply to shock rather than to add substance to the narrative. This hyper-aggression can occasionally overshadow the subtle nuances in his lyrics, making certain passages feel more like a burst of raw anger rather than a carefully crafted expression of his inner turmoil. Despite these minor drawbacks, The Marshall Mathers LP stands out as a monumental work in the world of hip-hop. Its fearless lyricism, fantastic flow, and near-perfect production combine to create an album that feels both intensely personal and universally influential. Even when the aggression borders on overkill, it’s a part of the raw, unfiltered expression that defines the album. For me, this album is nothing less than a masterpiece, a work of art that pushes boundaries and remains as relevant today as it was when it first exploded onto the scene. A well-earned 5/5 stars

I don't give a flying fuck about this album. In my 29 years on this earth, I’ve listened to my fair share of music, and Highway 61 Revisited is hands down one of the most disappointing disasters I’ve ever encountered. Bob Dylan’s vocals on this record are, without exaggeration, some of the worst I have ever sadly experienced, making every track an exercise in sheer auditory torture. I'll admit there are a few fleeting moments where the album shows a glimmer of what others seem to celebrate. Some of the lyrics are clever on paper, and a couple of the guitar riffs manage to hint at the potential of raw musical genius. These sparse moments, however, are so few and far between that they hardly make a dent in my overall assessmentFrom the very first track, I found myself struggling to connect with anything Dylan was trying to say. The lyrics, which are often hailed as groundbreaking, feel mumbled and incoherent when paired with what I can only describe as one of the most painful vocal performances in modern music history. Rather than drawing me into a vivid world of storytelling, the album leaves me bewildered and annoyed. The production itself isn’t much better. While some might appreciate the raw, unfiltered sound as a hallmark of Dylan’s early work, for me it just accentuates every flaw. The mix does nothing to salvage the overall feel; instead, it amplifies the awkward, monotone delivery that runs rampant throughout the record. There’s a sense of disarray here that makes the entire album feel messy and unpolished. Even if I were to try and find a redeeming quality, I simply can’t. The supposed genius of Dylan’s songwriting is completely overshadowed by his infuriating vocal style on this album. Every track is a reminder of what I consider to be one of the worst vocal experiences in my life, making it impossible for me to appreciate any aspect of Highway 61 Revisited. In summary, despite its historical significance and the accolades it’s received from others, this album is a complete miss for me. It’s a relentless barrage of uninspired vocals and chaotic production that I just can’t stomach. Zero out of five stars—and that’s being generous.