Alright, time to review this masterpiece—an album that was one of my absolute favorites back in secondary school. First and foremost, I truly believe this is Captain Beefheart’s greatest work. Trout Mask Replica feels like a doomsday-apocalypse documentary set to music. But that’s just the beginning. This album defiantly spits in the face of everything that was considered relevant at the time: the underground, the overground, folk, progressive rock—even the entire rock establishment. Hats off to you, Captain. If I had to highlight a couple of tracks, they’d be “Dachau Blues” and “Moonlight on Vermont.” But honestly, the whole album is worth your time. Just sit down, put on your headphones, and crank the volume to the max.

This is the first album I couldn’t make it through in its entirety. To me, it feels more like background muzak or elevator music—something I’d typically hear at the hairdresser’s. Sorry, Kelela.

If you turn the volume down and play it while working, 1999 serves as ideal background music. Until now, I’ve typically used Bill Laswell’s Aftermathematics for that purpose—a record I consider far more complex and musically sophisticated—but I’m willing to give this one a chance. All jokes aside, I find it difficult to evaluate 1999 on musical terms because it’s so far removed from my personal taste that the gap feels immeasurable. It’s well-suited for a late-night bar, an afterparty, or any situation where music is meant to stay in the background rather than demand attention. I wouldn’t say the 1980s were a musical failure—after all, we had The Pixies, Talking Heads, and Dire Straits—but this album feels like a textbook example of the decade’s ambient noise rather than its artistic high points.

Still relevant in 2025, honestly. I was young (exactly 20 years old) when this album came out, and I was fond of the grunge scene — and the Britpop scene as well, which is funny — but I was devastated by the news of Cobain’s death. So I decided not to listen to this LP. And I never listened to it later on. But now… oh boy, this is a masterpiece.

Lots of memories. 1990, before graduation. The communist regime falls, free elections. Fresh air, love, and happiness. In my opinion, it is the most perfect Dire Straits album of all. *Water of Love* is one of my all-time favourites. Mark Knopfler is one of the kings of the guitar.

I thought it was going to be less interesting, but I realized I feel this genre, and I like it, though songs like *Don’t Know Why* and the title track were far overused when this album came out. *Cold, Cold Heart* is one of my favourites now. The style is a bit like Hugh Laurie’s first album, and I like that too. Downside: from track 5, it starts getting a bit boring. Still, *I’ve Got to See You Again* is a masterpiece — and not just because of the violin.

Not bad, a bit psychedelic, but full of strings and horns. Not my style. Even more, it is sometimes disturbing (see Hero). But it may be my mood right now.

I can really feel the ‘90s vibe. Even though I always preferred Blur over Oasis, this album rocks. I had never listened to What’s the Story Morning Glory? in full before—but come on, “Roll with It” absolutely rocks. Sure, “Wonderwall” was a massive hit back in the day, but it feels a bit boring now. (How many times have I heard it? Around 200?) The beginning of “Don’t Look Back in Anger” is a clear nod to Imagine, but it’s still an anthem I appreciate—though it’s not really mine. Overall, it’s much more rock’n’roll than I expected, but still… it’s pop’n’roll at heart. (Sorry, Liam.)

Man, we’ve got to blast this one at full volume! It’s an absolute favorite. I went to an AC/DC concert last year in Bratislava—no need to say more. Hell’s Bells, Back In Black, You Shook Me All Night Long… total classics. I nearly started singing along to the whole album out loud in a pub while listening to it on my headphones.

Back in 1990, just before graduation, there was a radio program that played all of The Doors’ albums—except the last two, which don’t feature Morrison. My favorites were always the first three albums, but Morrison Hotel stands out as the most bluesy. OK, let’s break it down. “Roadhouse Blues” feels a bit dull after 35 years. But still—it includes “Waiting for the Sun,” which remains one of my favorites. “You Make Me Real”? Not a big deal anymore. (Funny, it was a big deal when I was 17.) Strangely, “Ship of Fools” has held up—not better or worse. “Land Ho” is the same. “Maggie M’Gill” stands out, even though the rest of the band reportedly didn’t like it at all. In summary: it’s a solid LP. But—admittedly, this is on me—it’s been overplayed over the years, so my opinion may not be entirely objective.

A solid example of American folk music, though it doesn’t quite reach the heights of Pentangle—which isn’t surprising, considering The Beau Brummels are a U.S. band. That said, “Magic Hollow” is a masterpiece. “I’ve Seen Her” has a strong resemblance to Irish folk, which is a definite plus. “Old Kentucky Home,” on the other hand, is a classic American-style tune.

To be honest, if I ever listen to hip-hop, I usually prefer its more extreme forms—like Cypress Hill. My usual taste leans more toward prog rock, alternative, and other genres. This is my first time listening to The Score, and so far, it feels more dull than engaging. Still, I’m not giving up—I’m genuinely curious. But wow, “Ready or Not” is so overplayed, and to me, it’s forever linked with clumsy, mainstream vibes. I can imagine a scenario where I might enjoy this album—probably around 4:00 AM after a big party, using it as a chill-out soundtrack. But realistically, I wouldn’t play it on my own during the day. That said, there’s something oddly soothing about it. Maybe it’s best enjoyed at low volume—as background music. 🙂

At first, it unfortunately sounds like a typical “indie” album from the early 2010s—boring and overused. My main issue—similar to what I felt with Franz Ferdinand’s fourth album—is that these so-called indie tracks are overloaded with synths, which, to me, is a clear sign of mediocrity. This is especially noticeable on the second track, “Red Eyes”—ironically, the most played song on Spotify. That said, “An Ocean in Between the Waves” isn’t bad; in fact, I’d consider including it on a compilation. When listening to “Eyes to the Wind,” the band comes off more like yacht rock at best. (“The Haunting Idle” would make perfect background music for a hot night with someone—though, unfortunately, it’s too short for that purpose.) And then there’s “Lost in the Dream”—a genuinely good song, though it’s clearly a Bob Dylan ripoff.

This is a truly honest hip-hop album—I get it now. It’s easily one of the best in its genre. “The Corner” is a masterpiece. (A surprising statement coming from someone like me, who usually listens to progressive rock…) It’s genuinely calming. I think I’ll turn to this album whenever I’m feeling upset. During “Love Is…”, I actually found a sense of peace. Thank you, Common.

This album perfectly suits the image of a wild British gang behaving rudely and talking loudly in an otherwise quiet jazz club—so thanks, 1001 Albums, I turned the volume up. Not that I would have chosen to listen to this on my own; the so-called New Wave of British Heavy Metal has never really been my thing. Nevertheless, it’s far better than Metallica. Highlights: “Remember Tomorrow” and “Phantom of the Opera.” Overall, the album feels heavily inspired by Deep Purple and early ’70s hard rock. Since I’m not familiar with any other Iron Maiden albums yet (though I assume this list will include some from the Bruce Dickinson era), I can say Paul Di’Anno works just fine for me here.

This album is the perfect counterpart to Engelbert Humperdinck’s music—calming and ideal for relaxing. I wouldn’t single out any particular track as a standout, though “The Face I Love” is quite charming. Overall, it’s a great choice for background music during a romantic first date—although, personally, I’d still prefer one of Fellini’s soundtracks for that occasion.

Alright, time to review this masterpiece—an album that was one of my absolute favorites back in secondary school. First and foremost, I truly believe this is Captain Beefheart’s greatest work. Trout Mask Replica feels like a doomsday-apocalypse documentary set to music. But that’s just the beginning. This album defiantly spits in the face of everything that was considered relevant at the time: the underground, the overground, folk, progressive rock—even the entire rock establishment. Hats off to you, Captain. If I had to highlight a couple of tracks, they’d be “Dachau Blues” and “Moonlight on Vermont.” But honestly, the whole album is worth your time. Just sit down, put on your headphones, and crank the volume to the max.

This is the first album I couldn’t make it through in its entirety. To me, it feels more like background muzak or elevator music—something I’d typically hear at the hairdresser’s. Sorry, Kelela.

If I had to name the quintessential example of the New York alternative new wave scene, it would be Talking Heads. While other iconic artists emerged from the CBGB era—like Television, Blondie, Ramones, and Patti Smith—for me, David Byrne is the cornerstone (right after the PSG). Talking Heads: 77 isn’t their best album (I usually go with Remain in Light or Fear of Music, depending on my mood), but it stands out as their rawest—aside from The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads, which perfectly captures their early sound—and probably their most distinctly “new wave.” And that means something. Oh—and I can’t forget one of my favorite tracks: “Psycho Killer.”

This album is a bold anti-commercial statement, cleverly disguised as a concept-like radio broadcast. But let’s be honest—The Who is probably the last band I’d expect to deliver a concept album. From the creators of “My Generation,” “The Kids Are Alright,” and “I Can’t Explain”? It feels out of character. And there are bigger issues: the album is packed with filler. Sure, there are some standout tracks—like “Mary Anne with the Shaky Hand” and “I Can See for Miles”—but overall, it presents a sound that feels un-Who-like (take “Sunrise,” for example) and leans heavily into the typical ’60s aesthetic. If an unknown band had released this album, I might have rated it a 4. But coming from The Who, it’s a 2.

Okay, this is little more than well-executed stadium rock—nothing beyond that. It’s a bit sentimental at times, occasionally heavier, but ultimately it’s a pop record, even when it tries to present itself as rock. I’m not convinced, not just because it’s filled with effects that sound like autotune—just listen to Show Me the Way—but also because of the folk-like, single-guitar tracks like Penny for Your Thoughts. I understand this was a big deal back in the seventies, but to my ears, it feels like a balloon about to pop. And yes—pop is exactly what it is.

This album is a textbook case of much ado about nothing. It features heavy guitar riffs and even more intense solos, but beneath it all, the melodies are pure pop. Sure, it probably sounds great in a stadium after a few—or maybe several—glasses of beer. That said, Thin Lizzy is clearly a group of consummate professionals. But as the saying goes, the Titanic was built by professionals; the Ark by amateurs. A prime example of this mediocrity is “Dancing in the Moonlight (It’s Caught Me in Its Spotlight)”—seriously, that saxophone? I had to skip “Still in Love with You”; it’s the polar opposite of everything I enjoy in music. One more slow, overly emotional track and I’d have dropped the whole album. So, apologies, Phil—by the time “Cowboy Song” came on, I had to turn it off. The only reason I’m not giving this a 1 is because, from a technical standpoint, the performance is flawless.

If you turn the volume down and play it while working, 1999 serves as ideal background music. Until now, I’ve typically used Bill Laswell’s Aftermathematics for that purpose—a record I consider far more complex and musically sophisticated—but I’m willing to give this one a chance. All jokes aside, I find it difficult to evaluate 1999 on musical terms because it’s so far removed from my personal taste that the gap feels immeasurable. It’s well-suited for a late-night bar, an afterparty, or any situation where music is meant to stay in the background rather than demand attention. I wouldn’t say the 1980s were a musical failure—after all, we had The Pixies, Talking Heads, and Dire Straits—but this album feels like a textbook example of the decade’s ambient noise rather than its artistic high points.

Now this is what I call perfect party music. Unlike much of the shallow, formulaic dance music that dominated the ‘90s, this album feels both reflective and forward-thinking. It’s not just about “The Rockafeller Skank,” “Soul Surfing,” or “Praise You”—although the latter is my favorite track. It’s more than just an anthem; it captures the very essence of the late ’90s. Norman Cook has always been on my radar—not only because of his work with The Housemartins (and the spinoff, The Beautiful South, which I listened to a lot in the early 2000s—hello Closer Than Most)—but because of his unique ability to blend energy, wit, and depth. So yes—thank you, Norman.

Originally, I had some preconceptions about this style of music—and to be honest, about the post-disco scene in general—but now that I’m actually listening to it, I can appreciate the effort and musical skill involved, especially knowing that the band uses real instruments alongside synthesizers. The title track, Welcome to the Pleasuredome, which runs over 13 minutes, is surprisingly engaging and makes for far better background music than Prince’s 1999. It genuinely creates an atmosphere, not unlike the experimental work Talking Heads were doing in the late ’70s and early ’80s. On the other hand, “Relax” leans into a more hardcore, somewhat monotonous disco vibe. Still, the bass work across the album is excellent—particularly on “Two Tribes.” Tracks like “San Jose” and “The Ballad of 32” serve as well-placed, more subdued moments that provide the record with dynamic balance, and I mean that in a positive way. All things considered, this is a solid party album—and that seems to have been the band’s intention. From that standpoint, it earns a 4 out of 5, though I must admit I’m still a bit surprised to be giving it that score.

This is the perfect music for a jam session—soothing and calming. It’s not exactly my usual style, but I could listen to it endlessly in the face of an impending apocalypse. And only then.

Finally, a breath of fresh air! This album was a real surprise—I wasn’t familiar with the band before, but after hearing *Universal Corner*, I’ll definitely be exploring more of their work. Their sound sits somewhere between the B-52’s and the Ramones. Considering they’re from California, and knowing that The Dead Kennedys—who were far more hardcore—emerged from the same region and era, I can imagine this band might have been caught in the middle of the “real punks vs. surf punks” divide. But regardless, I really love this album. *I’m Coming Over* is a standout—absolutely beautiful. At first, I was leaning toward a 4 out of 5, but that may change. Actually, scratch that—this is a 5. If *Some Other Time* could help pull me out of a depressive state, then this album is more than just music—it’s a remedy for anything that drags you down.