First album, and maybe rating it a little too low because of that. A lot that is undeniable, obviously, but I could imagine a single disc that's *perfect* and it's not an LP I return to all that often. 4.5 stars would be more accurate.
these all sound like the same song. except, on one of them, he is singing about. a rooster?
perfectly fine, for the most part, with some high highs and lovingly gooey hyper-intricate synthetic production. easy to space out to.
(delightful jump-scare when the loop from the william maranci "Subterranean Homesick Blues" mashup showed up as the second half of "Summer and Lightning")
"Clocks" kind of slaps. the rest of this is dentist office music. listened as I filed my taxes, which was apt and damning.
operatic and turgid; exhilarating when it works, but twenty years on, the seams are showing.
a lot of the bigger swings, the "our love is how we'll survive," the communal singalong shit, REALLY falls flat after having your frontman exposed as a cheating sex pest.
Virtuoso-level wankery is still wankery.
Does not transcend the language barrier.
Hadn't heard any of this besides "Paper Planes" and was in love from the "Roadrunner" interpolation on. On first listen, some of the weaker tracks can grate but the hits—"Boyz," "Jimmy," "World Town," "XR2," "Paper Planes"—GO THE FUCK OFF and I could see bumping up to a 5 with time.
"Shoegaze Springsteen" is a delightful sonic palette. but as a full record? a bit too monochrome.
"Bodhisatva" feels like being stuck in a pinball machine in the best way. Nothing else really stood out, but it was all rather pleasant.
on the one hand, this is just spoken word poetry sprinkled over instrumentals. on the other hand, that poetry is basically another book of the Bible, the backup is choice, and Cohen's voice, even without really any range, is an instrument to behold (behear?). catnip for my own interests, but too many quibbles abound for a 5.
First 5, obvious 5. This record is so encoded in my DNA it's kind of impossible to hear with new ears. Feels like it was purpose-built to pick up that sediment and mean that much.
Listened to this most during middle school, when I was just getting into music and had more regard for Rolling Stone Orthodoxy. Haven't gone back for over a decade. Having relistened: it's fine but, like, for what? Also, what about LSD made British men feel the need to inflict daft music hall on us?
Surprised by just how much I enjoyed this! I grew up with post-9/11 jingoistic bro country as the genre's dominant mode and never felt the need to explore much classic country beyond Cash and Dolly, so George Jones was a entirely new name to me, despite his apparently being a legend??? And, I mean, that tracks based on this LP: Jones is a great singer and interpreter, and he locks into the wry, ironic lyrics his songwriting team have brought to the table. It's knowingly clever without being too cute; best exhibit is how the chorus of "She Told Me So" flips the verses. Exactly the sort of taste-expanding exercise I subscribed to this for.
Like a (very) extended inside joke you're not in on. His heavily affected shtick is so punchable and none of his punchlines land. One star for the phrase "precarious pandemonium."
Well, alright. Liked it for the sonic textures more so than the songwriting.
First artist i was absolutely unable to situate in a scene or context I'd heard of! Turns out he's doing a blend of Jens Lekman and Smog, with maybe some Randy Newman and John Cale on the side--a delicious surprise.
Pivoted from an eye-rolling "ugh, not this shit" 2 to a "nice, but not for me" 3 as I kept having to give Jones & Co. credit for their chops and admit that most of my immediate ire was more about the sort of open mic denizens who LOVE saying shit like "let's slow it down a little" (when they're already singing at a crawl!!) and not so much Norah herself.
also, I just learned she's Ravi Shankar's nepo baby?? (I know from peeking that at least one of Shankar's LPs is on the list, which has got me wondering how many pairs of parent and child have at least one record each on the list).
First couple of songs, I thought this would be outright atrocious and was baffled at why it was mega-acclaimed; luckily there are some solid tracks in the middle that keep this afloat. nevertheless, there's a reason most rappers gave up infesting their albums with skits and the musings on love and sex don't go deep enough for how impressed with itself the framing is.
The King sure can sing, but when I know the original he's covering ("I Got a Woman," "Tutti Frutti") his cover is always a step down.
"The Specials" seems like an overstatement; maybe they should have called themselves "The Alrights," "The Averages," or (in their worst moments) "The Misogynists."
Always forget how much I love the actual songs on this by how weird it's sequenced (loses a lot of steam on Side B).
Elton is a guy I'm rather fond of on a Greatest Hits level but never needed to hear more of. You could mistake the start of this for a greatest hits comp, and there are bits later on where the cocktail of glam and musical theatre works for me...but my overall impression was that it's just too damn noodlely!
does Side B to this even exist? but the front-loaded first half levitates this to an easy 4.
Glad to hear a record totally out of my wheelhouse, but eh, this didn't really grab me. could have died without hearing!
