Not interested in sitting through nearly an hour and a half of this directionally-and-sonically confused drivel. Reminds me of the shit your lame uncle would put on while reeking of bad weed, insistent that being intoxicated was key to appreciating it. No doubt he was correct. Give up the fucking divorced organ anthems and the phaser on the vocals already. The most grating part about this is that one can tell everything on the record was intentional and not just an awful novice musician's mistake.
Production is interesting, so it gets a star.
A concept album done right. Most are bloated, meandering, or lack cohesion even if their ideas are novel, but The ArchAndroid--particularly for 2010--is focused, streamlined, and tight in the ways that concept albums often fail to capture. Monáe sacrifices very little, if any, of her intention in the pursuit of crafting a sonically diverse, engaging, thoughtful record. Perhaps most striking to me is the ease with which Monáe inhabits and transitions between multiple genres and vocal styles. It isn't often that an artist is limited not by their talent but by the scope of their vision, and the fact that this vision doesn't seem compromised at all speaks to her skill and the skill of the musicians that work with her.
Listen to this.
Meandering early 00's indie pop. Gets much more interesting and musically experimental in the latter half of the record, with "Pot Kettle Black" being a particular standout for me. Refreshing, novel, and profound for the time period, but Jeff Tweedy has the ignoble distinction of being copied ad infinitum because of this record.
I still think Uncle Tupelo was better.
Don't think anyone who wrote the gay little synth line in Walk of Life should be calling anyone else a faggot derogatorily, personally, much less attempt to use the literary vehicle of a "character" to do so. Most hokey 1980's guitar tone since Elvis. No thanks.
Long, warm, lush, and veering on melodramatic even for the Cure, but still a great record. It's one of their earlier ones that I don't own, however. Stick to the singles.
Lovesong makes me cry.
Maybe it would have been more impressive in the '90's, but as it stands in the present, it's four chord alt-rock played by art students -- neither innovative nor particularly groundbreaking, but just self-involved enough to believe it's both.
High and Dry stinks of manufactured shit like Three Doors Down and James Blunt. Grossly reminiscent of a montage in a spring break movie department-store-core.
I've heard better from Radiohead. Do better.
Never heard this before. God this is so fucking groovy. The muted trumpet line in De Camino a la Vereda -- wow... Definition of cool. Thank you. Now I love Cuba.
White boy "blues" about fucking eighteen-year-olds. No thanks.
The penchant for aging records and the narrow taste of the curators of this list is self-evident at this point.
Nasal, whiny, overrated. I really dislike Dylan's voice, and he consistently leans into the vocal timbre that's most annoying. Can't speculate as to why, and not particularly interested in however this was meant to be innovative.
Harmonica is fun for a bit, but quickly becomes grating. Goofy fucking lyrics. I read that this won a Nobel Prize for literature? Maybe in the same smoothbrained way that some people consider Ernest Hemingway to be literate.
No thanks.
Honestly, I liked it, some corny lyrics aside.
Britpop flair and cinematic songs about being in love. It doesn't fully land lyrically. Good shades of Scott Walker here, though.
Dreading this wholeheartedly.
Genuinely unlistenable garbage. If you like Aerosmith, send me your address and I will come beat the shit out of you until you are dead free of charge.
It's fine. Very early '00s and it shows. Vocals are fun, songwriting otherwise is rather bland. Odd that a greatest hits record is on this list, and probably better served with an actual record. It feels like they're holding back -- played faster it'd be better.
Real grilling music.
Listen to this.
Derivative garbage.
I wish I could unlisten to this.
Background music for sure. Relatively inoffensive, and some thoughtful and novel (for the time) synth usage, but I can't imagine a time, place, or mood where listening to this would feel appropriate. I hear the Suicide influence, so it gets another star.
I love Lemper's voice. So powerful and unique. Shades of Björk.
Accompaniment is unsurprisingly good; not understanding the "cabaret" criticisms. Maybe there's a bit of the feeling of a film soundtrack, and lyrically it gets a little goofy, but it's Scott Walker, Elvis Costello, Nick Cave and The Divine Comedy. What did you expect?
Some songs are weaker than others, of course, but overall, it's a great listen; diverse, detailed, and lush.
Annoying nerd music for people who truly believe they're more intelligent than they actually are. A 20-minute opener of the most infantile hard rocking pentatonic wheedling? I lost it at the fake fucking explosion sounds, and that was before the awful fucking glam rock vocals.
At least the rest of the record is mercifully short in comparison, because this sucks ass, derogatorily.
No thanks.
This motherfucker is slurring worse than late-era Elvis. No thanks.
Would be exponentially--near incalculably--better as an instrumental record.
Racist cover, boring music. Janis Joplin sounds like Marge Simpson.
Real doohickey-ass, mechanism-ass music. It's priceless for what it influenced and where it stood in a historical context, but didn't age well -- like most early electronica. This could literally be played with the same passion and emotion and musicality by a computer--and if that's the point, why don't they just do that instead?
Gets better near the end, but I still probably wouldn't listen to this again or choose to put it on.
I remember borrowing this CD from my brother and listening to it as a child--that negative association colors most of my interpretation of the Beatles, but I'll give this a real chance.
It's fun, and easy to listen to. Much better than the later work, and has some interesting technical tricks (particularly the stereo field guitars!) and thoughtful basslines. In the context of 1968, I can see how this would be massively influential upon many different later genres.
AA/BB rhymes fit well, but in many cases I just don't "get" the lyricism, and it's both irritating and intrusive. Whether it is meant to be satirical or serious, I think the record suffers from including both.
That being said, some of the compositional flourishes are innovative and impressive, if for or especially for that they're interpolated in a four-chord pop rock skeleton.
"Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" is practically a Skatalites or Specials song, and I like it.
I might actually put parts of this on again, but the entire thing is punishingly long at over an hour and a half and definitely loses its charm by the second disc.
I'll be honest, I turned this off halfway through.
Nick Drake if you neutered and lobotomized him.
If Bob Dylan could pick a note to sing, he'd still be worse than Neil Young.
That being said; too many stinkers on here to honestly recommend it to anyone.
Wasn't this guy a one hit wonder in 2010? Why is this here?
This sounds like a record someone makes to make fun of Atlanta rap. I can't believe that's really his voice and not a humorous caricature he's adopting for some purpose. It seems I should accept it--and the GarageBand-tier loops--as genuine.
All Day Love Affair is good, but only because it's a funk track. The rest of it is fucking annoying.
I think they just might be lying about their numbers.
Music for people who say they don't listen to music. Another faceless, uninspired, unremarkable band attempting to cash in on British Invasion hype.
Musically, this is great. Moody, dark, delicate, and novel. Latin smooth jazz with violin, vibes and bandoleon? It works, well.
Unfortunately, it's the sort of record that one must digest fully in one sitting.
I've been getting a string of truly awful records for the past week. Please no more '60's rock. I beg you.
Fun. I love Jack White's voice.
I didn't know they toured with Sleater-Kinney and Pavement. I should explore this more.
Would have been better as a picture rather than a piece of music, because both lyrically and compositionally, this sucks. I am quite sick at this point of mid-tempo piano-rock ballads.
Turned this one off 2/3 of the way through the second track. No thanks.
Original compositions played as if they were covers. Lowest common denominator copies of actual post-punk songs. One or two listenable cuts.
"Shoegaze" if prancing Britpop found it 5 years late and Yes decided to play it.
Beautiful, if steeped a little too long in the gospel tradition of soul.
Satire requires clarity of intent.
Finally, some good fucking food.
When I was a freshman in high school, one of my best friends got followed while wearing a Velvet Underground shirt. He thought he was about to get jumped, but the person just asked for a cigarette. My friend didn't have any, and the guy just confusedly asked "Velvet Underground? Isn't that some acid rock band?" -- probably assuming my friend smoked.
Not really, no, but acid rock isn't as wrong as it might seem, at least on this release.
Cool stuff -- a restrained, thoughtful folk-rock departure from their previous work. Like if the Beatles smoked cigarettes instead of trying LSD. I think I'll stick with the noisier, earlier stuff, though.
I really hate the cult of personality this participation trophy of a musician has.
I am firmly of the belief that some people should speak less.
You know what, this isn't bad. For 1969, it ends a decade of god-awful 60's psych-rock and successfully does for mainstream proto-punk what Death and the Monks did for more abrasive, atonal varieties.
That being said, the most annoying trait of every annoying fucking gear nerd guitarist I know is that they're obsessed with this kind of solo noodling. On display here on occasion.
Dense in a meaningless way. Synths sound like presets. Loops are non-musical and seem pasted together--and result in incoherent songs that feel formless and random while still unfortunately relying on 4-on-the-floor dance structure.
Unlistenable; no thanks.
Stop giving me this band.
I just don't like '60's and '70's rock. I don't like the vocal stylings; I don't like the structure; I don't like the standard instrumentation (nearly always centered around a piano); I don't like the style of guitar solo or guitar solos in general. It's just not for me.
That being said, some fun bass on this record so it gets a star.
This is front-to-back great. Feels like Depeche Mode's "Violator" played eleven years early, with a slight glam-pop edge--which actually works here.
Loses some vitality after the first few songs.
I have heard this band at least two hundred times -- all of them against my will.
Growing up in a beach town known for dumbass watered-down reggae-lite like Rebelution necessitated that I heard shit like this weekly. Really foul shades of west-coast Beastie Boys.
That is to say: even if this wasn't brickwalled to shit with zero dynamic range and lazy lyricism, it's unlistenable garbage.
This is really bad. It seems to have all of the trappings of awful corporate 00's era art-pop in the most grating way. The only way this would be worse is if it included stomp-clap-hey-ho vocals, which I am honestly expecting as I listen more.
Surprised that I enjoyed this, given the singularly dismal offering Dire Straits previously had in my listening history.
I would wager it's due to the blues rock and country grounding of this release.
I don't know why they got rid of it a few years later. Shit slaps.
Bad, like all of Dylan's work.
Has all of the ingredients for something I should like, but it doesn't stick with me. I'm not a huge fan of Santana's guitar work. This guy cannot play a single fucking riff. Probably will not listen again.
I don't like ballad Nick Cave. I like post-punk Nick Cave.
Gets a three for the lyrical content.
Absolutely essential. Black Thought is so fucking good.
And it has Nelly fucking Furtado.
More "Beatlesque" pop. Listenable, if only because as a musician, artist, and music producer I respect intentional and competent production and arrangement.
Definitely drags after a couple songs though.
This is garbage, not gonna lie. Lyrically, musically, compositionally -- just derivative and starkly immature. A few interesting trumpet runs bogged down in boring arrangements don't save it from the "no thanks" pile.
Circling back to the lyrics again -- so, so, so jarringly infantile and irritatingly over-enunciated and oversung.
Seemingly impossible to enjoy.
I absolutely love how creative Jamie xx is. I know him from his solo production work, and to see him harness those inclinations into some smooth, funky, relaxed pop only makes it more accessible, not less interesting. Perfect use of duet, and my personal bias -- I love women with deep, raspy, or unique singing voices.
When a record is this fully and completely realized -- I have to respect it. Did not expect to give this a 5, but here I am. What a pleasure to listen to.
Lots of penis references.
Dre is a mostly incompetent lyricist, and an even worse rapper. He relies on the presence and flow of Snoop far too much for me to recommend this aside from its importance as a cornerstone of the mainstream emergence of G-funk, for which I have a particular soft spot. Someone else could use these beats far better.
From Tribe to this... hell yeah.
As always, I feel somewhat conflicted that the name on the record isn't the name of the person who wrote the music. In my eyes, this is Billy Shaver's record, filtered through the possibly more marketable Waylon Jennings.
That being said, it's great. I've always had a soft spot for outlaw country. I just love the blues, man.
Jumpscare of Adele's entire fucking face blown up on the cover.
At its most energetic, this record is soporific.
At its most innovative, this record is predictable.
At its most lyrically and compositionally challenging, this record is lowest-common-denominator.
I hate this style of singing.
Too much of disparate elements that I hoped to enjoy.
I read this described as "the sweet spot between Nirvana and the Jonas Brothers" and haven't stopped laughing yet.
Star Wars isn't good and you shouldn't use it as an album opener, even if you're 17. That being said, I don't know many 17 year olds that could copy better bands so convincingly.
Not at all essential listening.
Honestly, this was a really fun, innovative listen.
Immensely enjoying reading the droves of reviews crying about how this record is "too harsh" and "too abrasive." It's relatively tame, especially for the rather bland nu-metal riffs that suffuse the album. It's from fucking Roadrunner Records, lol.
That being said, I respect the inclusion of Brazilian traditional instrumentation and rhythm, and recording with the Xavantes indigenous community is thoughtful and progressive.
If you don't at least respect this, I recommend that you put your thumb back in your mouth and keep to Elton John or whatever milquetoast, sonically limp shit you consider innovative music.
5, just because this is far and away the most challenging listen for 99 percent of the people on this website and I like seeing them squirm.
Paul McCartney saying "Believe me, mama" made my skin crawl.
Used to listen to this all the time in middle school. Easy 5.
Incredibly good experimental synthpop from 1981. Like if Kraftwerk were musical and listenable. Vocalist has shades of Robert Smith, too!
One of the worst-mixed records I have ever heard. Generic and inconsistent. No thanks.
40 songs? Please end my agony.
Brings back memories of visiting the dead homie in 2014-2016 who just smoked weed while he told stories about his dead girlfriend and listened to Zedd. RIP.
Absolutely hate Kendrick's voice, flow, lyrical choices, and beats. Motherfucker sounds like the noise a dog makes when you accidentally step on its tail. This one's biased, but no thanks.
Drumming on this is genuinely good. Saves it from the 1 bin.
Lovely twee pop that reminds me a bit of Blind Pilot.
Meme record that I never bothered to listen to, but I was very wrong.
Inconsistent, but cool when it comes together. Not going to recommend this to anyone but punk historians though.
Beats are good, lyrical content is a little immature. Live instrumentation makes this engaging, diverse, and thoughtful if not necessarily compelling.
Expands upon the template set by 90 percent of Brit-slop to create--for the most part--some creative and novel shoegaze-and-grunge-influenced rock.
The last half of the record really stinks. Way too much neutered drone rock. Bumping this down to a 2; would be a 3 if they had excised the latter half.
A welcome reprieve from the 70's piano cock rock that dominates this infuriating list. Timeless and funky, and Carole King has a lovely voice and great vocal control. Gets a 3, because the piano does not belong in a rock song. Cat on the cover bumps this to a 4.
Instant classic record for 2005 me.
Disarmingly boring misogyny.
One 40+ minute groove. And it's fucking great.
Gateway metal for every ten year old angry nerd. Genuinely fun.
You know what? I'm rocking. Give this one a five.
Nice and short. Mostly focused, but more on that later. Actually some good cuts on here. I enjoyed "Here, There And Everywhere," "For No One" and "She Said She Said" quite a bit, the latter particularly for its drumming.
"Yellow Submarine" takes this from a 4 to a 3. What were they thinking? Just seems like a jokey outtake given the rest of the record.
Like if a funeral doom vocalist shit all over C-tier thrash.
The piano does not belong in a rock song.
Finding out Green Gartside is friends with Jacques Derrida is like finding out Countess Bathory and Caravaggio were friends.
You should listen to actual pirate radio broadcasts to understand what they are and do and represent, not this fucking garbage. Tone-deaf, reductionist, and borderline offensive to the underground radio scene.
Being forced to see Pete Townshend's disgusting shit-eating rictus and naked torso is punishment enough, but the more I listen to this, the more it sucks. One of the worst of this list so far.
If "allegations" was a soft rock musician...
It's lovely, but nothing special and nothing that hasn't been done better by countless others.
Was not expecting this for 1965. Incredibly novel and genre-expanding for garage rock and punk.
It's really hard to play bad jazz funk in the first place, but when your father is considered the mind behind Afrobeat itself... this might be the first album on this list that is actually something you need to hear before you die.
Endlessly talented, extremely fun listen.
Fond memories of painting to this record with my first teenage crush.
Holy fuck, the vocal scatting in "When I Dream" is one of the worst things I have ever heard and was so gratingly annoying I turned off the record.
Has some of the ingredients I enjoy, but the record itself feels uninspired and derivative. Like if you took all of the bite out of Depeche Mode and replaced it with a collection of songs that between them lack a single musical hook. I'm finding that the longer records (over roughly 40 minutes) seem to lose focus and include a lot of filler--this is no exception.
Alright, I'm sick of Beck. Maybe I rated his previous record here a little too kindly, or I'm just entirely not in the mood for what sounds like 00's montage music.
More plodding, falsetto 60's psychedelica for the trash can.
This one did not land the way she wanted. Is this a joke?
Much better after the meme song is over.
Another perfect Depeche Mode record.
Music for people who have never cared to experience the agony and bliss of giving the self in love, nor have ever truly lost anything in the attempt.
Possibly the first jazz fusion record?
You gotta be in a certain mood for this one.
This is so profoundly annoying that I don't have words.
Just some incredibly smooth and delicate acapella world music.
Horny music for depressed nerds. That being said...
More "woman-as-a-relational-object" 90's feminism.
Some interesting songwriting hamstrung by content; extremely funny to hear Liz Phair say "I just want your fresh young jimmy / Jamming, slamming, ramming in me"
Mercifully shorter this time; still plagued with juvenile, singsong writing and what feel like amateur, exploratory musical accompaniments.
"Wir fahren fahren fahren auf der Autobahn" is the first real lyric of this record.
you have to be kidding me
Imagine being a fucking poser but the scene in which you choose to pose is fucking Bob Dylan's "folk." Stop with the fucking harmonica, and get this shit out of my ears.
