Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐🌘 (4.5/5 Moody Morrisseys) This is The Smiths at their most bleak, bratty, and brilliant. It’s a melodic existential crisis served with jangle-pop guitars and enough poetic bitterness to ruin your lunch and your worldview. It’s not here to comfort you—it’s here to make you uncomfortable in beautiful ways. There are no bops here. There are melancholic marches, sarcastic ballads, and Morrissey monologues disguised as songs. Johnny Marr’s guitar work sparkles like sadness in the sun, while Morrissey floats above it all like an emotionally repressed ghost in a thrift-store blazer. This isn’t an album—it’s emotional passive-aggression with a rhythm section.

My Rating: 5/5 Rain-Drenched Sonnets This album doesn’t shout, it drifts. It’s autumn in sound form—all amber leaves, soft wool sweaters, and emotions you can’t quite name. Where Five Leaves Left was introverted and stark, Bryter Layter has… well, light. But like… distant light. From a cottage window. At dusk.

Lol did not know Kanye "sampled" their song. Amazing album.

Good songs. Coldplay is not really my type. I did find this to be their better album.

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ / 5 Yes, five stars. You can’t improve on a record that already sounds like it was made in the backseat of a broken pickup truck driving through rural heartbreak. ⸻ The Sound: Harvest is what happens when folk, country, and rock all sit around a fire and quietly fall apart together. It’s got that lo-fi authenticity you can’t fake—half of it sounds like it was recorded in a barn because, fun fact, it was. Literal barn acoustics. He invented the Spotify “cabin-core” playlist before playlists were a thing. Standouts: • “Heart of Gold” — Yes, it’s the hit. Yes, it’s still good. Go cry in your car like the rest of us. • “Old Man” — Neil Young’s gentle roast of future-him. • “The Needle and the Damage Done” — Two minutes of “let me quietly devastate your spirit.” • “A Man Needs a Maid” — So vulnerable it’s almost awkward. Like reading someone’s journal but with orchestral strings. Why It Matters: Because this album isn’t trying to impress you. It’s not overproduced. It’s not trendy. It’s just… true. You can hear the wood in the guitar. You can hear the ache in Neil’s voice. It’s the audio version of someone slowly lighting a cigarette, pausing, then going, “…yeah.” ⸻ Final Verdict: Harvest is like emotional compost—rich, earthy, sad, and necessary. If you don’t give it five stars, that’s fine. Just don’t talk to me about your taste in music ever again.

🎧 Review of Jagged Little Pill Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ / 5 Cry-Screams This album is a time capsule full of jagged feelings, diary entries written in Sharpie, and the sound of a woman who found out you cheated and wrote a platinum-selling album instead of texting you 87 times at 3AM. It feels. And it makes you feel. Loudly. Messily. Perfectly. Alanis didn’t just make an album—she gave us all a permission slip to be emotionally unhinged and poetic at the same time.

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐🌘 (4.5/5 Moody Morrisseys) This is The Smiths at their most bleak, bratty, and brilliant. It’s a melodic existential crisis served with jangle-pop guitars and enough poetic bitterness to ruin your lunch and your worldview. It’s not here to comfort you—it’s here to make you uncomfortable in beautiful ways. There are no bops here. There are melancholic marches, sarcastic ballads, and Morrissey monologues disguised as songs. Johnny Marr’s guitar work sparkles like sadness in the sun, while Morrissey floats above it all like an emotionally repressed ghost in a thrift-store blazer. This isn’t an album—it’s emotional passive-aggression with a rhythm section.

⭐ Review: 4.9/5 Spacey Existential Gut-Punches This album isn’t here to entertain you. It’s here to haunt you, hug you, and then gently whisper, “Remember when things meant something?” It’s only 5 tracks long, but somehow feels like a decade of your life flashing before your eyes while you stand in the rain at an abandoned carnival.

⭐ Rating: 4.7/5 Urban Ghosts Smoking in the Rain This album basically invented trip-hop, which is music for people who want to be sad but also mysterious. It’s jazz, soul, reggae, hip-hop, and existentialism layered like emotional lasagna. Every track is slow, heavy, and weirdly intimate—like the music knows something about you that you haven’t admitted yet. It doesn’t ask for your attention. It assumes it already owns you.

Love it. Smells like that basement live venue in Central Sq, Cambridge.

⭐ My Rating: 4.5/5 Global Bangers Screaming in Five Languages This album is LOUD. It’s messy on purpose, and it doesn’t ask for your approval—it claims space like it’s kicking colonialism in the shin and then dancing on the table. It’s not “polished.” It’s powerful. It’s raw, glitchy, chaotic, political, and deeply fun—like if a protest wore a crop top and set your stereo on fire. M.I.A. doesn’t rap at you—she throws entire ideologies at your face in rhyme form.

⭐ Rating: 3.8/5 Well-Groomed Sad Boys in Perfect Harmony It’s clean. It’s charming. It’s not trying to change the world—just trying to get their girlfriend back. And you know what? There’s something comfortingly dramatic about that.

⭐ Rating: 3.8/5 Well-Groomed Sad Boys in Perfect Harmony It’s clean. It’s charming. It’s not trying to change the world—just trying to get their girlfriend back. And you know what? There’s something comfortingly dramatic about that.

Slow trippy

I felt like I was at a beach

4.4/5 Echoes in a Redwood Grove Warm. Fuzzy. Deep in places. This is hippie sadness dressed as optimism. Favorite Track: Darkness, Darkness hits like an emotionally literate thundercloud. “Darkness, darkness, be my pillow…” Bro. What?! That’s gorgeous and devastating in one breath.

My Rating: 4.6/5 Silky Grooves of Self-Worth This is grown-folk music for people with taste, but also mild baggage and great shoes. Put this on and you are 30% cooler instantly.

5/5 Heartfelt Haze Ballads This isn’t just one of the greatest vocal performances of the 20th century. It’s the template for every soft, slow, emotionally intelligent heartbreak that came after it.

This album is so effortlessly good it’s unfair. It’s the sound of running toward yourself.

Guitars Gasping for Air.This is the sound of losing your innocence and gaining self-awareness in the most sonically gorgeous way possible.Every chord is a crisis. Every lyric is a subtle scream into a satin pillow of reverb.

5/5 Velvet Arousal Swells This album isn’t just sensual— It’s sentient. It listens to you as much as you listen to it.

4/5 Theatrically Unstable Swan Cries This isn’t just an album. It’s a myth written in falsetto. Buckley isn’t singing songs—he’s summoning personal weather systems

5/5 This album glows. It doesn’t shout. It radiates. It’s resistance music disguised as a tropical breeze.

4.5/5 Martini-Slick Melancholy Because nobody loses gracefully like Frank. He’ll sing about love like he’s holding a rose, but you know he’s already bleeding from the thorns.

5/5 Neon-Tinged Heartbreak Aria This isn’t an album. It’s a soft crash landing on a bed of glittering debris. Every track sounds like someone sighing into a mirror before tearing off down a rainy street in slow motion.

5/5 Razorblade Lullabies Because this album doesn’t hold your hand. It bites it. It’s uglier than Nevermind, but so much more honest. It’s chaotic, bleeding, ironic, and mournful— a funeral pyre of noise and genius.

4.8/5 Existential Leather Jackets Because this album doesn’t want to comfort you. It wants to poke your brain with a very stylish stick. Howard Devoto isn’t singing—he’s delivering monologues from the inside of a decaying philosophy textbook while the bass player quietly panics.

5/5 Calloused-Hand Ballads This isn’t the Born to Run romantic. This is Bruce after the dream cracked a little. After courtroom battles, isolation, and real life creeping in. And somehow— it’s more powerful.

My Rating: 5/5 Torn Vocal Cords of God Janis doesn’t “sing.” She erupts. Every note on Pearl sounds like someone duct-taped her heart and threw her into the booth yelling “Go.”

⭐ My Rating: 4.7/5 Moody Shadows It’s darker than Blue Lines, but smoother. More refined. Like the part of the night where the party’s over but you’re still too haunted to sleep.

4.6/5 Pixelated Feelings This album walks a perfect tightrope-Danceable despair. Pop apocalypse. Digital vulnerability. It’s like if Robyn, Blade Runner, and a breakup letter formed a band.This album is a glitter grenade. It explodes inside your ribcage, and instead of pain, you get a light show. Mood: “I’m crying on the dance floor but make it neon.” Voice is like: “Here is my soul… now run it through a distortion pedal and throw it off a building.”

My Rating: 5/5 Black Timbs and Truth Bombs This album is the cornerstone of gritty, honest hip-hop. Biggie didn’t just rap—he narrated the psychology of growing up where hope was the rarest currency. Every line hits like a memory wrapped in gunpowder.

5/5 Golden Era Polaroid Frames This isn’t just one of the best rap albums ever made— it’s an autobiography in rhyme, a time capsule in boom-bap, a Rosetta Stone for pain, pride, paranoia, and poetic genius. He was 20. TWENTY. Most people at 20 are Googling how to cook pasta. Nas was sculpting lyrical cathedrals out of Queensbridge dust.

5/5 Fragmented Frequencies Because Bowie reinvented sadness with a synthesizer and a shrug. This is not an album. It’s a bleeding machine sighing in a Berlin basement.

My Rating: 4.5/5 Shouting Degenerates with a DJ This was the first rap album to hit #1 on the Billboard charts—and it did it with: • Fart jokes • Guitar samples from Led Zeppelin • And brilliantly dumb lyrics that hit harder than they should It’s chaotic. It’s immature. It’s iconic. This is punk energy with a turntable. Ali baba and the forty thieves Ali baba and the forty thieves Ali baba and the forty thieves Ali baba and the forty thieves Ali baba and the forty thieves Ali baba and the forty thieves Ali baba and the forty thieves

My Rating: 4.6/5 Psychedelic Breadcrumbs This album is like: • The sound of falling in love with someone you just met at a poetry reading in Laurel Canyon • Being serenaded by a garage band possessed by the ghost of Bach • Accidentally joining a cult… but like, a well-dressed cult with harpsichord solos

5/5 Velvet Snarls Because this album: • Rocks hard • Feels smart • And still hits like a sucker punch in 2025 It’s angry, clever, sexy, and a little tragic.

My Rating: 5/5 Rain-Drenched Sonnets This album doesn’t shout, it drifts. It’s autumn in sound form—all amber leaves, soft wool sweaters, and emotions you can’t quite name. Where Five Leaves Left was introverted and stark, Bryter Layter has… well, light. But like… distant light. From a cottage window. At dusk.

My Rating: 5/5 Angst-Powered Folk Punk Yelps It’s punk, but it’s acoustic. It’s folk, but it’s feral. This album is one long scream from someone who just got friend-zoned and had their Walkman stolen. It’s like: • The Smiths if Morrissey was less whiny and more deranged • The Ramones if they couldn’t afford amps • A high school journal with splinters

Velvet Software Glitches This album isn’t just an experience—it’s a modulated dissection of desire, vulnerability, and letting go. It’s like: • Sade got uploaded to the cloud • And then got ghosted by a cyborg • And then wrote 12 flawless songs about it Take Me Apart is heartbreak on a hard drive. • It’s sleek, experimental, sensual, and a little haunted. • It’s what your ex’s texts would sound like if they had taste and reverb. Listen to this while walking alone at night, headphones in, city lights flickering, and a tiny part of you hoping someone stops you to ask, “Are you okay?” (Spoiler: You’re not. But you sound amazing.)

4.0 Whispered Martini Toasts This album is a smooth, humid dream. Sinatra lays back into Jobim’s arrangements like he’s reclining in a hammock made of saxophones.