Taking in the first track, I was lulled into a false sense of security that this would perhaps be a lovely, pioneering ambient / world music album. However, my hopes were quickly shunted by how disparate, aimless and haphazard each of these tracks are when stacked up next to each other, and really not in a good way at all. RateYourMusic lists subgenres of: New Wave, Southern African Music, Turntablism, Hip Hop, Merengue, Tribal Ambient, Electro, Country Pop, Plunderphonics, Afrobeat, Soukous, Marabi, and Mbaqanga. All of these go some way to describing the overall experience, and I can at least see how it would have been influential towards the plunderphonics subgenre through its unrelenting mishmashing of collated samples and juxtaposing sounds. However, one can't shake the feeling that it all feels a bit appropriated and plagiarised from other cultures in a calculated way, perhaps with the intention of manufacturing success by McLaren in being seen as this "revolutionary artist". A cynical business ploy rather than an artistic statement from the heart. It's of course an extremely fluid album in terms of the territories it explores, but in execution this doesn't amount to anything coherent or particularly enticing to return to, with much of it sounding incredibly dated and a bit pretentious. Without immediately recognising them, I had heard (and couldn't stand) the tracks "Double Dutch" and "Buffalo Gals" prior to diving into this album, with other tracks ranging from "interesting, but really?" to "this is just shite". "Punk It Up" and "Soweto" sound like ideas that even "Sandinista"-era The Clash would have left on the cutting room floor, and others such as "Jive My Baby" and "Duck for the Oyster" just got on my nerves. And the artwork is offensively shit.

The title track is great, and of course everyone knows it (even if they can't immediately recall its name - I couldn't for the longest time). As for the rest of the album though, I imagine discussions in the studio went something along these lines: "Alright, we've got one banger we can market this with. How about we fill the rest of the album with dull as dishwater, lift music-esque covers of rock and roll songs? We can make a killing doing that because who cares? People will lap it up as long as we've got one decent song." "The kids aren't that stupid though, right? Surely we've got a bit more in our locker to make this stand test of time?" "Hmmm fair point. Suppose we could tweak "Green Onions" slightly, slow it down a bit and call it "Mo' Onions" so it sounds like we tried. Then we'll call it a day and lull everyone into submission by just doing whatever the fuck else on the other nine tracks. You with me?" "Yeah I'm down, what about the artwork though?" "On the off chance that any divvies out there will think they've popped into Morrisons instead, we'll make it look like a supermarket advertising hoarding." "Genius! Some random bloke in 40 years will put this on a shrine and deem it worthy of everyone's time".

This is proper good. Really, it is! I've never taken much of a plunge into CCR despite the constant banging on about them from my fellow pub-goers, and on this evidence I 100% get the love for them. Jubilant, swinging rock and roll at its foundations, there is also a healthy and very tasteful country influence weaved into the fabric here, not dominating the sound but accentuating it very well. A deceptively simple album on the surface of it, but there were some interesting variations and subtle switch ups in time signatures and song structures to keep each track fresh in direct succession from one another. It chugs along brilliantly whilst avoiding becoming too formulaic, and the playing here is really tight. Interesting to note that the album's title derives from the meticulous rehearsal sessions which were conducted in drummer Doug Clifford (Cosmo)'s warehouse, though this doesn't pervade into the music too much for me as to detract from the intimate nature of it. Another one to whack onto the wishlist, honestly there is very little, if any fault I can pick with this one.

Could have, and should have been an email. I'm convinced that this album only exists as some elaborate sadomasochistic social experiment. Anyone claiming to enjoy it has been commissioned for their opinion, or held hostage. Needless to say, I didn't indulge in its 3 hour running time.

Very apt album title here which echoes my thoughts on it. It's an inoffensive enough, but wholly unremarkable and attributable to its time moody pop rock / singer songwriter album. She has a good, pleasant voice, and to its credit, in a lyrical sense, this avoids being as sappy as I was worried it could have been. Ultimately though, and maybe I'm just being a miserable bastard of late, but I can't fathom any existence or parallel universe which would necessitate this album's inclusion. At least I've broken away from the one-star rut (briefly? Who knows).

An agreeable enough time. Pub rock not of the leaden variety, but this is unlikely to be one that I'd be itching to return to. A tad rudimentary for me by current standards, and perhaps a bit too carefree and joyful sonically for my largely grubby tastes, although one where I can understand the appeal it would have harboured.

Billed as a "rock opera", I hadn't sat down with this album for a number of years prior to this morning, and it's been a welcome nostalgia trip back towards my preteen and teen days. A bit of an overblown concept tying the album together perhaps, but the songs here are undeniable. I'm still of the opinion that this would only have stood to benefit if "Wake Me Up When September Ends" rounded off the album, but numbers such as the title track and "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" have quite rightly earned their status as some of Green Day's most recognisable and widely renowned tracks.

I've quite enjoyed this album as my first exposure to any of the band's material. Its production is a big stand out for me - it boasts definition and provides a rock solid platform for the entrancing, spacious soundscapes which are aplenty here. This is very much a late 90's album in terms of its character and sound, but it translates well into the modern landscape too, with clear nods to shoegaze and hints of garage rock observable alongside the bendy, warpy psych-rock which takes the primary precedence. It's not all drifty here, however, with several tracks unafraid to dial up the energy a bit - notably "Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth" and "Cool as Kim Deal". Very keen to dig further into their catalogue going off this evidence.

An enjoyable experience from an artist I've never really checked out in any capacity. This very much has proto-progressive rock tendencies without being clearly identifiable as such, falling into a strange stylistic category of psychedelic pop rock which is that bit more challenging and unconventional than you'd expect. The songs take on a bittersweet, high-key yet bordering on melancholic approach, which is always a welcome juxtaposition. My main criticisms of the album would be that the production is somewhat suspect in patches - the vocals can become a bit scratchy/overbearing in the mix, and it does hit a bit of an impasse in its mid-section - "Student Demonstration Time" is a minor dud with these production issues becoming quite glaring.

This was an absolute joy, and of the albums I've dived into so far, probably the one I'm most likely to want to put on again immediately after the fact. Wonderful folk-soul relatively simple in its arrangements, but this is a shining beacon of strident positivity and wholesomeness. Love the funky bass lines and mischievous piano populated throughout the album, and Joan Armatrading commands such a presence vocally with a real swagger and pomp. There is also bountiful variety in simplicity here as to consistently retain my attention. Can't think of any significant criticisms for this one, it's gone onto my vinyl wishlist.

I am somewhat familiar with Beck, having heard Odelay once or twice (though I can't recall much from it). Everything else he's attested to is new to me, though. I liked a reasonable portion of this - mostly for the trippy/psych pockets it explores, and appreciated the experimentation throughout, but I found it a tad lengthy and perhaps a bit of a struggle to get through in one sitting. I'm a bit unmoved by the vocals, which serve a purpose but don't really capture my imagination. I found my attention drifting a bit towards the middle, and couldn't immediately recall what I'd just heard prior, but "Hell Yes" reeled me back in again as a vastly different hip hop track with a classic 90s feel to it. The production has aged well, too, allowing the dreamy elements of the album to envelop the listener. I'd perhaps chuck this one on again down the line to re-evaluate, though I can't see myself being in any great hurry to do so.

Not quite The Chemical Brothers' strongest offering, but a mightily impressive debut album wherein the group didn't wait around to firmly cast their imprint into the UK electronic music scene, and many acts have since borrowed its nuances, ensuring that it retains a significant legacy befitting of this list. Of their discography, this album does perhaps sound the most applicable to the mid 90s era, with a somewhat dated sheen to it, although not one which compromised my enjoyment whilst revisiting today.

Ahh, the banana album. I'd actually fairly recently revisited this prior to today's undertaking, so it has remained fresh in my mind. Innovative, influential, fearless, unsettling, and weird yet strangely accessible in some respects, it would have been a travesty if this hadn't been an entry of the 1001. This was years ahead of its time, and it still sounds just as vital approaching 60 years later. Nico's contributions to the album only elevate the sense of eeriness and detachment evident throughout, still provoking debate to this day, although for my money they are just as crucial a component of its makeup as any of the unorthodox-of-the-time instrumentation. My Dad was a huge proponent of this album, released during his birth year of 1967, and it was one of the first records he ever purchased alongside the likes of Pink Floyd and Kraftwerk.

Van Halen are one of those bands where I'm familiar with their big singles, but I've never dived into their catalogue to any degree of depth, or had much of an urge to. Well, it would seem as though I've been missing out on such a fun time. In your face, arse-shakingly catchy, serotonin-soaked bangers aren't at a premium here, and whilst the second track "Eruption" could have proved to be a pretentious venture mere minutes into the album's running time if it wasn't as good as it actually is - fortunately, the solo-ing is absurdly good. Very much enjoyed this, and will be back again.

This is a serene, soulful jazz-fusion album, easy on the ears however lacking in the crazy, off-beat twists and turns which define my favourite albums and artists of the genre. It's also pretty damn long at 76 minutes in length, which I'm not entirely sure is fully warranted given what is explored (or not) across its running time. I can sometimes vibe with this sort of stuff, but I wasn't particularly in the mood for over an hour of it today, and I didn't last the course.

An album I'm already quite familiar with, and a listen which brought out all the emotions in me as Japan were one of my Dad's favourite bands. He essentially modelled himself on David Sylvian as a teenager, beyond just the looks. As far as the music goes, this was a notable stylistic shift for Japan in that the album pivots almost entirely away from the glam-post-punk type of sound which defined their earlier era, in favour of a more experimental art-synth pop direction. Japan were often associated with the new wave scene in terms of their aesthetics, broader appeal and links with other acts of the time, although that label doesn't do them anywhere near enough justice, particularly as you approach their last couple of albums. This is a surreal experience with a kind of nocturnal vibe hanging over it, although I'm somewhat surprised to see it in the 1001 over Gentlemen Take Polaroids or Tin Drum, if I'm honest.

It took a little while for this one to fully register with me, and even now, I have to be in a very specific mood to gravitate towards Funeral over other records in my collection (the first 1001 entry I've had which I own on vinyl, as of writing). However, when such an opportunity comes around, this is a sobering listening experience, conceptually focussed on themes of death and the loss of childhood innocence as a result (thanks Wikipedia, I'm not feeling particularly free-thinking this morning). The album encompasses a wide range of emotions which ensue from the grieving process - denial, resentment, acceptance and a sense of emptiness after the fact. Sonically, there is ample variety on offer and there are bountiful layers of depth to unpack - an indie rock album at its core, but with some artsy, chamber-esque nuances accentuating it. Win Butler's swooning, at times warbly vocals initially proved an obstacle in which I had to navigate, but I've since grown to appreciate them as a fine accompaniment to the album, oozing with believability.

I didn't hate this as much as I expected to, but even at only 27 minutes long, it felt like an eternity to get through. I'd like to think my musical palette is fairly diverse, however I have very little time for this type of "bandit country" music. I'm sure this was an important album in some way, shape or form as to find itself on this list (or am I?), but it's just too rudimentary by today's standards.

Not horrendously shite, but not really my go-to thing. Fairly morose stuff in the main, pleasant enough sonically but requires a specific mood. It goes a bit reggae at points, which amounted to the more interesting and uplifting aspects of the album. Thumbs in the middle from me, might re-evaluate down the line.

As soon as you hear the noodling, transcendent bass work on the opening track "Roundabout", you know you're in for a treat, and the quality never dips from therein for me. Quite rightly regarded as a classic, essential prog rock album, Yes would go one better on the following Close to the Edge for my money, but that's not to discredit how vital an album this is. Fragile is absolutely beaming with joy, with each member effortlessly gliding away on their respective instruments and relentlessly leaving you on your toes as to what might follow, courtesy of the freakishly executed erratic rhythms and mind-bending song structures throughout. I couldn't omit the brilliance of the flamenco guitar on "Mood for a Day" either, though, tugging at the heartstrings before the album concludes with an absolute whopper in "Heart of the Sunrise". I don't have this on vinyl, and that seriously needs to change.

I've never been a fan of Red Hot Chili Peppers at all, and an incomplete listen to this has done precious little to alter my opinion. I just find them really grating in both a musical and vocal sense, and Anthony Kiedis being a bit of a knob is well-documented by now, so nope, onto this week's new releases I go. Sorry, not sorry.

It's fine I guess, but there's just not enough of a USP on offer here for it to come anywhere close to justifying its place in the list. This is a decent enough blues album which relies heavily on many of the tropes associated with the genre, and it's largely an inoffensive listen which did get my feet tapping on occasion. Equally, however, there is some absolute tripe on here too, primarily in the form of "Rocking Chair" and everything that follows. Apparently, one mumbling, weary acoustic-led dirge of a track wasn't enough of a downer to end proceedings on, so instead we ended up with three of them for our sins. This album supposedly culminated in John Lee Hooker's peak chart success following a fallow 17-year period throughout his mid-career, but all I can ask is "why?".

This is everything that I hoped the John Lee Hooker album would be yesterday. An unhinged, constantly volatile, and challenging yet rewarding experience, primarily rooted in blues rock, however unafraid to dip its toes into garage and psychedelic territories. The end result is as impressive as it is disorientating, and at no point did I tire of this album as you simply can't tell what might be lying in wait for you next. That Captain Beefheart achieved such a feat on a debut record is truly a cause for celebration. I It's fair to say, however, that this is a relatively palatable effort two-years removed to Trout Mask Replica, another 1001 feature which I'm looking forward to revisiting and attempting to piece together. Several tracks here are already familiar to me, however I'm less confident on whether I've actually sat through this album in one piece before, so this was effectively a new listen for me.

This isn't dire, though I can't see it being something I'd be itching to come strait back to. Accentuated by some playful little bass lines and some uplifting jangling leads, there is also a sense of melancholy hanging over it via the themes conveyed throughout. However, much like with a couple of other albums I've listened to so far, this is perhaps a tad rudimentary to leave a significant impression on me. Possibly also not helped by a feeling of blues fatigue washing over me.

Going in, I was expecting this to be an entirely new one on me, as I didn't so much as recognise the band name or artwork. However, the opening track "Miss Judy's Farm" rang some bells in my brain due to being played at home over the years, and from there on in I had a very enjoyable time on the whole with this boogie rocker, which oozes with swagger. A very welcome and endearing injection of fun and positivity, I think this suffers ever so slightly when it aims for that "moving ballad" approach on a track such as "Debris". However, the keyboard work from Ian McLagan is unrelentingly radiant throughout the album, and whilst this isn't mind-bending stuff, I feel that this album is an example of making modesty and looseness count. Arse shaking riffage, coupled with Rod Stewart's raspy, charismatic vocal offering, gives the album a real hazy 1970s whisky bar quality to it. I'll definitely be back for more.

Well, this is quite something, for better or for worse. I'm personally gunning for the "better" side of the equation. Imagine the likes of The Cure or Echo and the Bunnymen taking acid and deciding to throw the entire kitchen sink at it, with the majority of it sticking and the remainder at least posing thoughtful questions. This is a disorientating, suffocating listen at over 70 minutes in length, very intermittently affording some breathing respite when it dials things back a bit. However, this generally seeks to leave no crevice untouched, crafting panic-inducing walls of artsy, experimental new wave / post punk mayhem. Lush yet haunting in terms of its sound, the obvious touch points for the vocals would be Robert Smith, David Bowie and Bryan Ferry in that they have an operatic, sometimes over the top quality to them, draped in vulnerability. The sound and production quality is very of its time, however with enough dynamism in the latter to allow individual elements to come to the fore when the songs demand as such. The second half of the album generally felt a lot more optimistic in scope than the first, disregarding the instrumental bop of an opener in "Arrogance Gave Him Up" which offers no indication as to what follows. This absolutely demands more than just a single listen, and I will definitely be going back to try and unpack this to a greater extent. I feel like this could grow into something that I would hold in exceptionally high regard. For now though, this absolutely something you should hear before you die, even if just to satisfy a curious itch.

I'm m not in the slightest bit familiar with Joni Mitchell, however this album has got me very keen to explore further. Hejira in some ways acts as a fine juxtaposition to yesterday's listening via The Associates - this is one where the low-key sonic approach, on the surface of it, has provided a welcome change of pace. Whilst there aren't walls of sound to unpack here, what I did find impressive and most engaging about Hejira is the variety / complexity to the crooning melodies and instrumental patterns here, providing this album with a level of depth which isn't immediately apparent at first glance. There are undoubtedly jazzy qualities underlining this album, which I suppose you would broadly consider a "soft rock" or singer-songwriter effort. After wrapping up my listening, I noticed that a certain Jaco Pastorius features on the album as a bassist, who I'm also unfamiliar with but am aware is held in very high regard. Joni Mitchell's voice is wonderful, and unusually for a first listen on my part, I also caught onto a level of poetic, abstract beauty in the lyricism throughout. This is definitely high up on my list to revisit.

A very good album.

A peculiar case, this one, as the only Talk Talk album to feature in the 1001. I'd certainly consider Spirit of Eden and Laughing Stock to be the superior and more realised efforts within their canon, although substantially less accessible. This album, however, does remain a hugely important piece of the puzzle, as a bridge between the band's self-derided synth pop beginnings to the experimental, proto-post rock direction of later albums. It more than deserves a place in the 1001, although it begs the question as to why either of the aforementioned two didn't make the grade, for their continued influence far beyond their original release schedules. The Colour of Spring, notably, largely does away with synthesizers, going for a much more organic sound which carves out its own space to an exponentially greater extent, and which exudes a much more staunch level of ambition and integrity. Frontman Mark Hollis, as far as I'm concerned, was a musical genius, with the variety and unpredictability apparent on this album (and much more so subsequent releases) accredited to the formation of post rock. His voice is truly captivating and magnificent, however the music speaks just as much throughout the pockets of sparseness it drifts into as it does during its more dense passages. Dark, brooding, hugely resonant atmospheres, disguised by optimistic keys and chords, are in ample supply here, with the incorporation of tambourine and the variophone on a track such as "April 5th" adding chilling layers of depth. This is one of those albums you could talk about all day. Excellent, nigh-on-perfect stuff, though again I'm perplexed as to why this is the only Talk Talk album to feature in the book.

These are a band which I have just never "got" at all. The drawling, theatrical style embodied by Nick Cave is just not for me, and although this is a more palatable, sanded down version of such stylings, a fresh listen hasn't really done it any favours. I remain impressed by Nick Cave's ability to craft out intriguing lyrical narratives, but I could do without the music.

I often see/hear Queen being spoken of as a "singles band", and even described as "overrated" in some corners of the internet. Whilst I tend to agree with the former statement to a certain extent, the high points that they've put their name to are ridiculously good, and there's a multitude of them on Sheer Heart Attack. Whilst A Night At the Opera is the more grandiose, no-holds-barred defining statement in Queen's canon, Sheer Heart Attack is a more measured, yet broadly fun time. Queen, for me, are one of those eminently unhateable bands, and are always a joy to put on when the itch presents itself. Are there a few lesser tracks on the album? Of course - I don't think there's much worth fussing about from "Stone Cold Crazy" onwards, which sets an incredibly high bar to surpass, but the highlights across the first half are truly delicious, namely "Brighton Rock", "Killer Queen", "Flick of the Wrist" and "Now I'm Here". I needed something of this persuasion today, and thank the algorithm for duly delivering it.

This is a marked improvement over Henry's Dream. On the whole, it just felt much more sonically engaging to me, and actually had some compelling energy contained within it. Even the more reserved tracks didn't feel quite as plodding or morose, and Cave isn't doing so much of his signature wailing either. However, at 82 minutes in length, it's a thumbs in the middle for me as far as its replayability stakes are concerned. I wouldn't be averse, but equally I'm not chomping at the bit to hear more.

I gave this a spin last night as a pertinent tribute to our newly departed musical legend. I feel that there's little else to say about the quality and enduring influence of this album that others haven't, or won't, come to mention in their reviews. This is one of those albums that I perhaps only listen to a couple of times a year, much like with the other "golden run" Sabbath albums, however its impact remains unabating whenever I decide to drop the needle onto this one. My journey into Black Sabbath came reasonably late, after my love for all things heavy metal had already developed over a number of years before I finally gave their catalogue the time it deserved, but that did nothing to lessen how vital their music felt to me despite my pre-exposure to more extreme subgenres. Absolutely essential. RIP Ozzy 🤘🖤

A gaping hole which I've recently filled in my record collection, as I've ushered in attempts to diversify the genres that I listen to at home, beyond primarily metal. Electronic music has been an area of heightened focus for me as of late, with this album from Jean-Michel Jarre widely considered to be an important piece of the puzzle towards the future development of ambient, electronica, sound collage, space rock, synth pop and new wave music. Essentially, imagine the synthesizer work that you would hear floating throughout a 70s prog rock album becoming the main emphasis of the music, as opposed to an additional layer of depth supporting the virtuosic guitar playing of the genre, which is entirely absent here. Dreamy and existential, yet accessible through a strong grasp on melodicism throughout, the album has reportedly been used for music therapy and to support mothers throughout the natal process in the years following its release. It has a transportive, instinctual level of heft to it, which is difficult to replicate with such sparse resources as those contained here. That this was Jarre's first studio release proper is most impressive. It was assembled in a makeshift home studio with large parts of the album being written on a barely functioning mellotron, and it would initially struggle to see release through its rejection by several prominent record labels of the time. However, its legacy today provides for a success story in that whilst you may not be aware of Jarre directly, you will absolutely be aware of artists who have sought after his template.

Is Björk one of the weirdest and most experimental artists to ever occupy the mainstream? Yes, and I love her all the more for it. Her "second" debut is a slightly peculiar inclusion in the 1001, however, especially in favour of POST or Homogenic, which I would argue are the superior albums, and have aged a lot better than this one. Nonetheless, this album did provide a very measurable impact on release, launching Björk into the public eye, and that is likely what has resulted in its inclusion here. Debut has an otherworldly and alien, although somewhat dated feel to it, with the opening track "Human Behaviour" nailing that detached vibe both sonically and lyrically. "Venus as a Boy" would be my other highlight for its ethereal, almost trip-hop like qualities. From there, it's definitely arguable that the first half of the album contains its more interesting numbers, with the latter half settling into some relatively conventional house music of the time. I wouldn't quite describe this album as "testing the waters", but a greater ambition and consistency would be realised on the following POST. Still, a very enjoyable time revisiting this.

Well, at least I've only got one NC&TBS album left to indulge after this morning's miserable undertaking. In truth, this is just a nothing-sandwich for the most part really and a baffling inclusion in the 1001. After 3 (perhaps even 4) goes with The Boatman's Call, this most recent attempt included, I can't recall a single detail from it other than the hook on the opener "Into My Arms". I suppose it isn't quite as grating as some of their other albums can be, and it perhaps speaks to the distaste I felt towards a couple of them, but Jesus wept, this was still an endurance test.

This began grating on me from the word go. Other than country, this type of 60's twaddle is second in my personal pecking order of music which I'd be demanding financial compensation to ever be subjected to. Needless to say, I passed up the opportunity to continue listening at around the halfway point. Life is too fucking short. Plus, after conducting some brief research, I learned of the disturbing lore associated with the members of this band, which makes the album cover all the more uncomfortable to look at.

I bought this CD on a whim during a recent charity shop hunt, so 3 Feet High is very much a new "previously heard" for me. I generally struggle a lot with hip hop - the lyrical themes often don't feel relatable to me, and the lack of sonic variety and dynamism across lengthy albums can very quickly become tiresome for me. My personal exceptions tend to occupy the more experimental or industrial spheres of the genre - Billy Woods, Clipping., Dälek, Danny Brown, Death Grips, DJ Shadow, Injury Reserve, JPEGMAFIA, MF Doom et al. I am also partial to some earlier "boom bap" in intermittent, infrequent doses. This album, whilst of a different era and template to the aforementioned artists, takes my interest in that it similarly provides for an unorthodox experience. Its playful nature, combined with its psychedelic tendencies, the strong production for its time, the conscious themes explored and its adept utilisation of sampling, puts it in a league above the fairly limited pool of comparison points that I can draw upon. Does this sound attributable to its era? Yes, very much so, but I can align with the argument that 3 Feet High forms essential listening within the genre. Is it something that I'd come back to with any sense of regularity, however? Perhaps not, I only tend to put on a hip hop album once a month or so, but this would definitely fit within that rotation.

I recently gave this band about half of the "Discog in a Day" treatment whilst on my travels, with practically zero prior knowledge of them. Super Furry Animals didn't really land for me at that point, needing a hell of a lot more time and some less chaotic listening conditions to properly digest, however I probably would've had this album down as the most immediately accessible of those that I'd given a go (Fuzzy Logic through to Phantom Power). Revisiting this one, with a fresh pair of ears, has done it the world of good. This album perhaps isn't as densely layered or as nuanced as some of their earlier works, so I do wonder if this would stack up well in the longevity stakes alongside their other albums were I to undertake a similar exercise again. However, it's absolutely beaming with warm, gorgeous textures. I'd be highly inclined to come back to this.

I will say that I didn't hate this anywhere near as much as I expected to. It's an easygoing listen, with a handful of decent offerings and a jubilant cheer pulsing throughout, but on the whole, this one became tiresome quickly for me. I found my attention ebbing and flowing between the busier, more "rock" oriented passages and the relatively non-descript folk ones. After about 5 tracks, I thought I was on for the home stretch, only to realise that there were nine left to go. "49 Bye-Byes" is the final track proper, which is an appropriate note to wrap things up on, but the Spotify version of the album adds four superfluous, dirging acoustic tracks into the mix.

A solid release from an undoubtedly classic, integral band within the timeline of hardcore punk. However, despite this being Minor Threat's longest effort, clocking in at 21 minutes, I've seen Out of Step being described as an EP far more often than I have as an album, and therefore it is a somewhat debatable inclusion in a list of 1001 Albums. I'd also argue, if you're going to acknowledge Minor Threat in this list, that the debut S/T EP was more of a landmark statement and of greater importance to the development of hardcore, as to render it essential listening. Out of Step takes the band's sound into a more measured, less seething direction, hinting towards the later post-hardcore of Fugazi in patches. However, is it quite as enduring as the debut EP? I'm not so sure.

A band I've always been aware of, but up until now my familiarity with their music never extended beyond "Sweet Home Alabama" (which is an absolute bop, albeit has been overplayed into the ground). What the hell have I been playing at? This is really good. Irritatingly, I couldn't find a version of this on Spotify without the silly demo tracks tacked on at the end, but the album itself breezed by and immediately felt homely to me. That Lynyrd Skynyrd sounded this assured and fully realised on their debut is mightily impressive, and a clear blueprint exists here for the formation of the southern rock subgenre. Definitely a fully warranted inclusion in the 1001.

The next step of my journey exploring Joni Mitchell, and after the sample size of a singular listen to both albums, I think I'd have this over Hejira as the one I'd be more likely to reach for at the moment. Whilst I very much enjoyed the latter as well, this one felt a bit more accessible and optimistic in tone, with the folk and pop elements of her sound taking greater urgency. There are still hints of the jazzy direction which would be amplified on Hejira, particularly channeled through the bass arrangements, but whilst the latter gave off the vibe of an album that you'd chuck on as an accompaniment to a cozy winter evening indoors, this is the Yang to Hejira's Yin as one more suited for a stroll in the summer. Consider me a newly enlightened fan.

Taking in the first track, I was lulled into a false sense of security that this would perhaps be a lovely, pioneering ambient / world music album. However, my hopes were quickly shunted by how disparate, aimless and haphazard each of these tracks are when stacked up next to each other, and really not in a good way at all. RateYourMusic lists subgenres of: New Wave, Southern African Music, Turntablism, Hip Hop, Merengue, Tribal Ambient, Electro, Country Pop, Plunderphonics, Afrobeat, Soukous, Marabi, and Mbaqanga. All of these go some way to describing the overall experience, and I can at least see how it would have been influential towards the plunderphonics subgenre through its unrelenting mishmashing of collated samples and juxtaposing sounds. However, one can't shake the feeling that it all feels a bit appropriated and plagiarised from other cultures in a calculated way, perhaps with the intention of manufacturing success by McLaren in being seen as this "revolutionary artist". A cynical business ploy rather than an artistic statement from the heart. It's of course an extremely fluid album in terms of the territories it explores, but in execution this doesn't amount to anything coherent or particularly enticing to return to, with much of it sounding incredibly dated and a bit pretentious. Without immediately recognising them, I had heard (and couldn't stand) the tracks "Double Dutch" and "Buffalo Gals" prior to diving into this album, with other tracks ranging from "interesting, but really?" to "this is just shite". "Punk It Up" and "Soweto" sound like ideas that even "Sandinista"-era The Clash would have left on the cutting room floor, and others such as "Jive My Baby" and "Duck for the Oyster" just got on my nerves. And the artwork is offensively shit.

It became clear to me around a third of the way through this one that I was fighting a lost cause, and the remaining 20 minutes or so felt like an eternity. It's clearly a respectable enough bandit country album with more nuance to it than I expected, but for my tastes, that's like giving a bad pizza takeout props for at least not leaving you shackled to the confines of your toilet throughout the night. Two stars for just being a bit of a weary slog rather than fucking god-awful.

I think this may be the most contemporary album I've received up until now, but you'd be hard pressed to believe that when listening to it. This really hasn't aged well at all, and honestly I found the bulk of it absolutely insufferable. MGMT attempt to mask what is a fairly rudimentary of the time indie album with a heaping of disorientating electronica warpage, going for a psychedelic vibe, but it ultimately culminates in a suffocating, unconvincing and grating listen. I was of course familiar with a couple of the singles ("Electric Feel" and "Kids", the latter of which in particular was unavoidable for a time in the 2000s to early 10s), and both are admittedly catchy, but they come nowhere close to compensating for much of the dross on offer either side of them. "Of Moons, Birds and Monsters" is also passable in that it is afforded more breathing room than the other unfocused tracks, and it offers a more tasteful ratio between the 'tronica and the indie, but it's hardly anything exemplary. Overrated, overstated, overwrought and overindulgent. This is the sort of album, for those of this era, that your mate from secondary school / college who tried acid at a party once, and thought he was the dog's bollocks, would probably have had screeching out of his Sony Ericsson push up phone.

It's Aerosmith, you know exactly what you're going to get. I've always found them a bit overrated though if I'm being honest, and this album is a fairly middling effort from them. Nothing wrong with it really - I don't mind a bit of cock rock once every so often, but there's not enough right with it either to even vaguely justify its inclusion in the 1001.

Props for being the first truly international album I've received up until now (which seems to be something of a rarity in the 1001 list). However, despite enjoying bits and pieces of this to a certain extent, it is miles away from being something I'd ever revisit, and at 48 minutes is a big ask to get through. A "música popular brasileira" album, which essentially expands upon the samba-canção and bossa nova genres by adding in funk and soul elements, there is a surprising amount of diversity and complexity between tracks on this album. Some lean much more into jazz than others, however I found the transitions between stylings a bit jarring at times, mainly towards the album's mid section before it settles into a funk/soul template towards its tail end. The vocals here are lovely and I presume express some profound lyrics, however the language barrier meant I wasn't able to form a connection with them. Two stars is perhaps a bit harsh - it's really not that bad, just not for me.

Now we're talking again. What a find this has been. From the entrancing 10 minute psychy, proggy epic which ushers in proceedings, to the bouncy, soul-infused funky bops which follow and never really degrade much in quality from there on in, this comes in at a tight 36 minutes and it breezed by for me. "Back In Our Minds" is perhaps the one track here which didn't immediately blow me away, but it was still a pleasure to listen to nonetheless. This is absolutely the type of funk I can get behind rather than the self important, overwrought exploits of later bands which I've never warmed to. At its core, it just wants to rock out and have a great time, and that really shines through in the compositions. That solo (you know the one I'm on about) in that title track is truly mind-bending. Onto the vinyl wishlist this goes, and I will be investigating these further.

Orbital have two entries in the 1001 - this album and the immediately preceding, much heralded Orbital 2 (Brown Album). If it were me compiling the 1001, I'd have personally made a stronger case for the following In Sides to feature over this one. However, Snivilisation is still a very enjoyable and thoroughly interesting ambient techno sprawler at 75 minutes in length, although it is a much less digestible and accessible release owing to its stronger sense of eclecticism and complexity. It tends to be the somewhat overshadowed middle child in comparison to those two other Orbital albums I mentioned, perhaps also not helped by being released in 1994, which was a particularly strong year for electronic music. You had Aphex Twin / Caustic Window, Autechre, The Future Sound of London, Global Communication, Massive Attack, Oval, Portishead, The Prodigy, Underworld et al. releasing some of their very best material that year, the majority of those leaning into friendlier takes on ambient, IDM, techno, trip hop and other stylings which were making waves at the time. You could leave me on a desert island with nothing to listen to but a curation of 1994 electronic albums for a month, this included, and I'd be quite content with that, although this one would probably be one of the last from that crop that I'd be actively reaching for. I've found myself slipping into an electro-rabbit hole over these last few months, making some amazing discoveries along the way, although Orbital are an act I've always been familiar with and have had an appreciation of, owing to my Dad's tastes.

My Beatles knowledge is patchy at best - I believe I've only ever listened to the "1" compilation album, so I know of their obvious hits via that. This one didn't blow me away. It's a reasonable enough listen, but it offers little explanation towards the revered, global mega-entity that they would go on to become, and I would suggest that it is by no means essential. It's one that you'd put on to gain a greater understanding of the band's early trajectory, but there's little in the way of replay value for me here as it just felt a bit too simplistic.

Nothing about The Smashing Pumpkins has ever been for me. The garishness, the whiny nonsense, the overindulgence and self importance of it all leaves me feeling nauseous at the best of times. Minus the vocals, I can get with a few tracks here in an instrumental sense, but two hours of this was an experience that never bears repeating.

The album cover reminds me of a Pampers advert. That's just about the only constructive slant I can put towards this. Just light-years away from being anything I'd ever choose to listen to, although the international aspect is again appreciated.

Hahahaha hahahaha! Nope. Get in the bin you freak. Annual leave request from this monolithic undertaking has been put in.

The title track is great, and of course everyone knows it (even if they can't immediately recall its name - I couldn't for the longest time). As for the rest of the album though, I imagine discussions in the studio went something along these lines: "Alright, we've got one banger we can market this with. How about we fill the rest of the album with dull as dishwater, lift music-esque covers of rock and roll songs? We can make a killing doing that because who cares? People will lap it up as long as we've got one decent song." "The kids aren't that stupid though, right? Surely we've got a bit more in our locker to make this stand test of time?" "Hmmm fair point. Suppose we could tweak "Green Onions" slightly, slow it down a bit and call it "Mo' Onions" so it sounds like we tried. Then we'll call it a day and lull everyone into submission by just doing whatever the fuck else on the other nine tracks. You with me?" "Yeah I'm down, what about the artwork though?" "On the off chance that any divvies out there will think they've popped into Morrisons instead, we'll make it look like a supermarket advertising hoarding." "Genius! Some random bloke in 40 years will put this on a shrine and deem it worthy of everyone's time".

The brand new Skoda Octavia from just £26,740, various payment plans available. Terms and conditions apply… …wait, you're telling me I haven't just spent an hour indulging myself into a barrage of car adverts that someone with a deep seated self-hatred assembled into a YouTube playlist? Does anyone seriously care about these joyless, soulless hacks? This is the definition of “live, laugh, love” blues rock for people whose greatest sense of danger and excitement in their life was mixing cider and beer on a night out once. Music for people who don't like music. Thoroughly depressing stuff.

Very apt album title here which echoes my thoughts on it. It's an inoffensive enough, but wholly unremarkable and attributable to its time moody pop rock / singer songwriter album. She has a good, pleasant voice, and to its credit, in a lyrical sense, this avoids being as sappy as I was worried it could have been. Ultimately though, and maybe I'm just being a miserable bastard of late, but I can't fathom any existence or parallel universe which would necessitate this album's inclusion. At least I've broken away from the one-star rut (briefly? Who knows).

I didn't expect to get much out of this at all, but I'm pleased to say that I did. Some people just have an aura, and Aretha Franklin sure as hell does. Really enjoyed the playful bass licks throughout this, and it turns out I wasn't entirely unfamiliar with Aretha Franklin as I did recognise a handful of tracks, without knowing of the artist. An empowering and passionate, yet quite intimate listening experience. I'll be exploring further.

I'm only familiar with Machine Head from Deep Purple, which I do happen to own on vinyl. On balance, though, I might prefer this one after just one listen. Despite being released earlier than the aforementioned Machine Head, this album feels more ambitious, experimental, and has a very observable progressive rock thread running throughout. "Child in Time" in particular has blown me away as a sprawling centre-piece of the album, but there isn't a dud to be had either side of it. I would say that I can see this being less immediate for many, despite still containing an abundance of top tier hazy, fuzzy riffage, but it's more closely aligned to my tastes and as such has clicked in a big way from the off. Deep Purple absolutely deserve to be in the conversation alongside Black Sabbath in terms of shaping the genre of heavy metal as we know it today.

It's clearly a high quality example of something I wouldn't ever actively reach for, and at 72 minutes, staying the course was a bit of a test, but there is a palpable tension and dark atmosphere flowing throughout this. One of my first points of reference was the earlier works of Tom Waits before he (presumably) underwent a frontal lobotomy. There is some lovely instrumentation here, and Bob Dylan captures quite the presence with his raspy, nicotine-ravaged voice. Perhaps a good one for a gloomy winter evening with some mulled wine.

I cannot stand this album at all, not helped by the fact that I regularly have to hear this at work because one of my colleagues is a mega-fan. I've never gone any further in Blur's discography in either direction to know whether the same sentiment applies to anything else they've done, and yes, I get that for many people, this album feels like the personification of 1990s Britain through its lyrical commentary, but this is like battery acid to my ears. I've tried again today in as unprejudiced a mindset as I could possibly aim for, but this isn't and never will be for me.

This was actually quite the surprise and very enjoyable, despite my fears when I took note of this being a mixture of studio and live tracks. The end result is a well-assembled package which sailed by pleasantly in my ears. The stripped back, gentle acoustics combined with infrequent, reflective bursts of harmonica really do provide for some heartstring-tugging moments throughout, with the album coming out of its cave and taking on more optimistic, hard rock tones as it advances. Wikipedia describes Rust Never Sleeps as "proto-grunge", but I'm not sure I'm getting much of that from it (thankfully) - rather, it feels like a precursor to the exploits of bands such as Built to Spill, Dinosaur Jr, Pavement, Sebadoh et al. The opening track has a veil of darkness shrouded over it in a way quite unlike anything else on the album, probably taking the cake as my highlight. I was also pleasantly surprised by Neil Young as a vocalist - for whatever reason, I was expecting some gravelly, two-pack-a-day smoker groaning, but he has a smoother vocal style much more aligned with vocalists of the 90-00s alt/indie persuasion. Would I put this on again? If the circumstances called for something of this ilk, then yeah, I'd probably reach for it.

This is a really fun, catchy album, although I do feel it is one that benefited greatly from arriving at just the right time and place to make the impact that it did. If this had been released a few years later, would it have been as widely celebrated as it was in 2001, where you had nu metal circling the drain, mall emo in its relative infancy etc? Debatable. Nonetheless, this does a grand job of combining scrappy garage rock energy with hooks, optimistic tones and melodies. It's well-documented that The Strokes could barely play their instruments at this early juncture of their career, giving Is This It an endearing charm which I think made it relatable to a lot of people. I was just about weaning off nappies in 2001, so I don't have the same degree of attachment to this as I'm sure others here will, but I did enjoy giving this another spin after a little while away.

The album title was an immediate red flag, and it unfortunately proved to be accurate as far as describing the overall experience. Having the album's supposed centerpiece "Layla" as Track 13, after over an hour of tedious, self important twaddle for the most part, is trolling to a sickening degree. It's seriously lacking in the quality control department, and ultimately comes off as pretentious above its station. Could very easily have been a 4 or 5 track EP at most. I'll stick with Blind Faith and what I know of from Cream, thanks.

This album is like a trifecta of some really good, some OK and some pretty rough tracks, and it always leaves you second guessing as to which sweet you're about to pick out from the jar. An ambitious, career defining statement or overindulgent and lacking in quality control? The answer probably lies somewhere in the middle, as does my rating. I'd be quite content for this to have at least half an hour shaved off from it, and I'm unlikely to ever take in the full experience again, but it is an album you should hear before you die, as, well, it's The Beatles.

The first track started out promisingly through carving out a wonderful atmosphere for itself, however it very quickly began to feel a bit laborious and drawn out (a common thread throughout the rest of the album, despite the relatively modest track lengths). The piano arrangements and rumbling bass work are the MVPs here, but something about the vocal style didn't quite do it for me, and the album plods on at a very pedestrian pace which didn't satisfy what I was after today. Nothing egregious here, but I can't see this forming a part of my regular rotation.

There are actually some highly catchy bangers on this, annoyingly so as 1) I was expecting to hate it and 2) I can't really sing along to them without sounding like I've tried funnelling too much food into my trap, as I don't know the slightest bit of Portuguese. However, there are also some very dated moments on here when it decides to sneak some synth work in. I suppose if I'm ever looking for a fix of some funky Nando's background music, this is where I'd be gravitating towards after the sample size of two albums I've heard, but how often will that itch present itself?

I was excited to receive and dive into this one as I'm a sucker for 90s British electronic music, and somehow hadn't ever given this album a crack despite knowing of the artist, however I'm coming away feeling a bit nonplussed by it. A strange type of jazzy, early drum and bass, it generally takes on a low key approach which probably lends itself better to being on as background music whilst reading / working. It's not quite chill out music, but equally, not really strident enough to be gym music. The production measures up reasonably well to today's standards, and some of the tracks are interesting in terms of their progressions, layering and structure, but there wasn't a lot here which really left a significant impression on me, and the nearly 80 minute running time is difficult to justify. Annoyingly, the last two tracks were unavailable on Spotify, so I had to conclude my listening via YouTube.

I was actually familiar with several of the tracks on here (I live in Norfolk so of course I would be), and the opener is actually a banger (maybe I've just had it bashed into my head so much that I'm experiencing a live case of Stockholm syndrome), but a fair bit of the rest of it... isn't actually that bad for a country album? There is some absolute tripe on this for sure - If I Could Only Take a Flamethrower to the track of a similar title, I gladly would, and "Bottle Let Me Down" has a face that not even a mother could love, but "Boulder to Birmingham", "Before Believing" and "For No One" are lovely acoustic, folky ballads, "Sleepless Nights" at worst could just be considered a bit inoffensive, and "Coat of Many Colors" is just a Dolly Parton cover so I suppose it's hard to butcher that. The final few tracks are... bloody awful. It's comically bizarre how as soon as the backing band starts warming up again, Harris sets out to pierce your eardrums, but she sounds great during the album's pared back moments, and half a decent album isn't bad for this sort of thing.

The second Queen album I've had the pleasure of listening to as part of this challenge. For my money, this is perhaps a bit more consistent all the way through than Sheer Heart Attack, but the highs aren't quite as high. It's worth noting that both albums were released in the same year, and they were only one removed from A Night at the Opera, which is pretty mental to think about. The theatrical, triumphant bombast that everyone knows Queen for is present here nonetheless, particularly within the latter half of the album, although not to as potent an extent, which I actually think suits Queen II down to the ground. Are there as many jaw dropping moments on this one? No, but it still absolutely rocks the hell out, and it offers a more than viable alternative for when I'm fancying a bit of Queen, but perhaps want something a bit lower key from them.

As far as Nico's material goes, I feel that she struck gold with her contributions towards The Velvet Underground's debut, however her solo work hasn't ever clicked with me in quite the same way as that album has. On the rare occasions that I feel up for the challenge, The Marble Index is the album of hers that I'm most likely to reach for. Chelsea Girl is quite low down in the pile for me as I just find it a bit empty, drawling and boring. It's very easy to tire of her vocals when there isn't much going on around them to distract you from them, or much variety in her approach, and unfortunately that's the case here. It's a "weird", but very surface level "weird" album that kind of becomes musical mush before too long.

An absolute worldie, no question or much elaboration needed here. How do you follow up two stone cold classics (released in the same year as each other)? By creating something arguably even better the following year. For my money, this is their apex and essential listening in every sense of the phrase.

Coldplay are a band that receive a lot of stick, and I'd entirely agree that their later material is amongst the most beige, insipid, soul-destroying stuff out there. Music for people who don't like music and "Karens" essentially. However, and I'm acutely aware that this might get me crucified, I actually quite like this album (and only this album), particularly the first half of it. Some of the textures, arrangements and harmonies on A Rush of Blood are wonderful, and whilst it is perhaps a bit cynical in some ways and a direct consequence of what Radiohead were doing, it holds up pretty well in 2025 unlike much of the other "post britpop" stuff which was loitering around at the time. There is an emotional depth to A Rush of Blood which still endures today, and Chris Martin's vocal performance / lyricism here doesn't stray too far into over-earnestness for me, although I get how it might for others. "Clocks" was one of the first songs I learned how to play on the keyboard at school, and I'm not afraid to admit that it's a cracking tune. I could do without a handful of tracks on this - some of the second half is a bit dull, but not enough to taint the rest of the experience too much for me. Three stars or four stars? It's probably a decent 7/10, which is around my cut off point to make the distinction between the two thresholds. Catch me on another day and it could be a 4, but I'll go for a strong 3 for now.

Haha, I actually gave this album a listen earlier last week. A fresh go with it again this morning has done it no harm at all. This is how you do synth-pop down to the letter, in my humble opinion. Neil Tennant has a really distinctive voice which goes hand in hand perfectly with the ethereal and ingraining, yet ominous textures on offer here, and his wry lyrical approach ensures that their music cuts deeper beyond just the sonic aspect. It's quite a dark and wistful album underneath the layers of deceptively welcoming and delicate instrumentation, with themes of loss, abusive relationships and existential contemplation underlining it. There are through lines to what would become trip hop on several tracks, not least "My October Symphony", concluding on THAT violin note which is proper heart in mouth stuff. This is the perfect album to chuck on between the changing of the seasons as days begin to grow shorter, temperatures recede and realisations of the impending gloom and humdrum dawn upon you. Maybe I'm a few weeks early to the "party", but I'm already in the zone for it and dusting off my invitation. I haven't got any Pet Shop Boys on vinyl, but I'm on a mission to rectify that in the near future. They don't have any bad albums across this era of their career, but Behaviour might just be their best, marking a distinctive shift with their canon which would define their future direction.

Actually nowhere near as bad as I was expecting, and quite enjoyable for considerable periods, although equally it did become a bit too much in patches. I was unconvinced with the vocals at first - throughout the album I was flip flopping between "Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up mate" and "actually this guy can carry a melody fairly well", but he fits within the spacey, diffuse, drowned in reverb template that The Verve exercise here. The running time is a bit unnecessary for me - 45-50 minutes max would have done just fine, but I made it all the way through which has to count for something. There was enough on offer here to warrant a revisit down the line, though I'm perhaps not in any great hurry for it.

I understand why this is here, and I do feel enriched by having heard it, but it just felt like too much of a relic from a bygone era for me to actively seek it out again. This is the kind of music my Mum would've been listening to at home courtesy of her parents growing up, so naturally she has an appreciation of it, and I wouldn't mind getting up and wiggling my arse to this after a few beverages if someone was to put it on.

This is like royalty free background music that YouTube would suggest to you instead after you've had a copyright strike on one of your videos, except the vocalist is kinda cool and charismatic. These are a desert blues/afro-rock band from Bamako, Mali, with an interesting and rather distressing backstory which overshadows the fairly average music on offer. Props to them for navigating those circumstances, using this album as a cathartic release and as a huge middle finger to forms of oppression essentially, but the end result isn't really for me.

This is proper good. Really, it is! I've never taken much of a plunge into CCR despite the constant banging on about them from my fellow pub-goers, and on this evidence I 100% get the love for them. Jubilant, swinging rock and roll at its foundations, there is also a healthy and very tasteful country influence weaved into the fabric here, not dominating the sound but accentuating it very well. A deceptively simple album on the surface of it, but there were some interesting variations and subtle switch ups in time signatures and song structures to keep each track fresh in direct succession from one another. It chugs along brilliantly whilst avoiding becoming too formulaic, and the playing here is really tight. Interesting to note that the album's title derives from the meticulous rehearsal sessions which were conducted in drummer Doug Clifford (Cosmo)'s warehouse, though this doesn't pervade into the music too much for me as to detract from the intimate nature of it. Another one to whack onto the wishlist, honestly there is very little, if any fault I can pick with this one.

The opening track set the tone pretty effectively - overlong and grating as fuck, going for a schizophrenic, orchestral type vibe but ultimately sounding like someone talking into a fan over a pound shop rendition of wildlife documentary background music. Did it get any better from there? No, not really, much of what I successfully managed to endure was some of the most turgid drivel I've ever had the displeasure of listening to, even if amusingly so in places. The vocalist actually sounded half decent on a track such as "Marley Purt Drive" when attempting to sing properly, though not to enough of an extent to carry the song towards being anything remotely inspiring. With such inventive lyricism on the following track "Edison" as "Oh, how, look at us now, we've still got a lot to learn but it's someone else's turn", it does at least point to a self-awareness within the band, but a lack of willingness to apply any of their (rightfully observed) criticisms towards their own product. "Suddenly" gives off the vibe of a politician trying to write a love song, "Whisper Whisper" is similarly frigid and a bit skin-crawling to listen to, and "Lamplight" was the point in the album where I began contemplating which of my recent actions warranted receiving this awful mess as today's listening experience. Maybe karma is real after all. "Sound of Love" might just be the worst lyrical offender here with lines such as "I need a life to go my way, so every night I pray. Just give me someone for my life. I feel a clown, people try to play me down, and there's one thing I never found. The sound of love. See the old man walk the lane, see him walk along in pain. It makes me cry to see them smile", "buoyed" by the most annoying, belting vocal approach delivering them. "OK, that's 10 tracks I've miraculously endured, surely it's almost over right?" Nope... SEVEN more to go. Fuck this shit, I'm out. Give me Malcolm McLaren over this nonsense any day of the week.

It's just a classic, benchmark album for post punk innit? One of those albums so ubiquitous that it's hard to really provide a unique slant on it, but the quality is unrelentingly good with this one. Cavernous and murky, yet relatable and within arm's reach at the same time, Joy Division captured something truly special here which would define a movement.

Considering that it's country rock, which in most circumstances I would gladly pay to see being mass-excavated into a landfill plot, this was actually... just as shite as I was expecting for the most part. I will acknowledge that the opener "Christine's Tune" is genuinely a rare, rollicking banger of a tune for the genre, "My Uncle" also had a bit of energy to it and "Juanita" is a passable enough ballad, but much of the rest descended into that wet, skin-crawling mid-paced slop which we apparently didn't have enough of in this list. Give me up-tempo bonky bonk over some lad doing his best sheep impression whilst giving a guitar a manicure any day of the week. Arguably even worse than the above however, we're "treated" to a spoken word organ track with someone occasionally rattling a cymbal in the background as the album's closer. Who in their right mind would've signed off on that? These jokers apparently.

Step aside Malcolm McLaren, this is how you make a plunderphonics album borrowing from various cultures, without it coming off as a cynical attempt lacking a central theme. None of this should work in tandem - but it does, and that's the entire point of the genre, rather than just mindlessly mishmashing samples and themes together until you end up with a gigantic ball of ruined Play-Doh. We get a wonderful array of samples, not least the religious chants / sermons and tribal percussion, re-contextualised into electronic soundscapes and underlined by David Byrne's customary angular playing. It's an unpredictable headfuck of an album - can you dance along to it? Not really. Is it passive listening? No. Is it laden with earworms? Also no. But it satisfies the "I like weird things" receptors in my brain and makes for a strangely spiritual, exhilarating experience. I am perhaps slightly more likely to gravitate towards Brian Eno's ambient works than this one, but it more than has a place in my library, and will be getting a purchase if I can find a decent quality copy of it. Brian Eno even had the decency, unlike a certain someone, to remove the track "Qu'Ran" from the album's original tracklisting as it was deemed to be in bad taste by the Islamic Council of Great Britain. Listening to the track today (which is available on YouTube and on certain physical versions) - I wouldn't say it's any more culturally invasive than the rest of the album's religious sampling, containing sacred readings sung by a Muslim cleric, but it shows that Brian Eno wasn't fuelled by self-interest and had a high measure of respect for the corners of the world that he sought from.

Slint’s music took its sweet time to register with me, but nowadays this is one of my go-to albums when I'm feeling down in the dumps. Considered as early purveyors of post rock, Slint’s approach to songwriting differs somewhat to the “crescendo-core” style which would become the dominant force of post rock in the 00s and beyond, whilst also providing a clear blueprint for what was to come. Slint (and others such as June of 44 and Tortoise) walked with the idea of building from quieter, shimmery passages into agonistic releases of tension so that the likes of Explosions in the Sky and Mogwai could run, however Slint’s music has a distinctly more angular, volatile and abrasive nature to it as opposed to the largely linear, grandiose and hopeful approach of later acts. Their climaxes are shorter lived and significantly less easy on the ear, best showcased on “Don, Aman”, “Washer” and “Good Morning Captain”, with throes of optimism very much at a premium throughout Spiderland. The overriding mood is one of disharmony, alienation, longing and existential dread, particularly as you advance into the second half of the album where an air of resignation begins to set in, following a comparatively raucous first half. Brian McMahan’s vocals are often spoken or even whispered, but also share a commonality with the exploits of earlier emo and post hardcore frontmen of the time when he goes for that wailing, desperate louder style. His lyrics come from a place of loneliness, but also of social anxiety, his narrative writing laying bare his struggles of tussling between the two conflicting predicaments. The sum total of Spiderland makes for an uncomfortable, yet strangely sentimental listen for me, and one which I have really gravitated towards in recent years.

I haven't really got anything witty to say about this one. It's brilliant in patches (the opener in particular is a generational statement, maybe even an all-timer), but much of the album from therein ranges from being decent to decidedly average - it hits a real lull towards the middle, and I never need to hear "Oh Yoko" again. It's John Lennon so of course it was going to find its way into this list, I'm not averse to it being on here but the multitude of other Beatles related selections does call into question how many albums truly are vital listening.

This was the definition of "meh". Absolutely nothing offensive about it whatsoever, but there was nothing that stuck in my mind about it at all, and at 62 minutes in length, it's about 20 longer than it needed to be. Really disappointing to go from Rust Never Sleeps to this.

Thanking the 1001 Algo for today's exercise in musical education being a mere 27 minutes at least. Another band which my Mum grew up hearing at home; I'm familiar with a few of these tracks through her playing them over the years, and the album was a pleasant enough listen. Ultimately it's just not really my thing though, despite understanding, to a degree, why it's on here.

I've got next to no background with Elvis, and unfortunately this one hasn't left a great impression on me. In fact, I couldn't finish it, with his vocal style being the main obstacle towards me getting much out of it at all. In an instrumental sense, there's some nice, warm bass work here, and it's clearly an impassioned, personal album from a lyrical perspective, but I just can't do it.

I've heard this one enough times at work through one of my former colleagues incessantly playing the CD (that I bought for them as a birthday present 😬😬), to know there's absolutely nothing for me here. Time is precious, and I don't need any "not like the other girls!!!" shite in my life.

I'm very much conflicted with this one. When the album settles into less assuming, contemplative pockets ("The Beat", "Hand in Hand", and a couple of other points within its second third), it ventures closer towards being within my wheelhouse, but I can only describe measurable portions of this album as "bad American sitcom theme tune music". It captures an angsty, rebellious mood of sorts, but channeled through a sticky-sweet sonic template with a nasty aftertaste. It's a kind of over-exerted new wave album which crosses the threshold in which I'm willing to tolerate in large parts. Vocally, Costello is not my cup of coffee at all here, whereas I can't remember this being a significant issue that I took with My Aim is True (though, it is an album that I already have no recollections of, so I'd have to revisit it to compare fairly). I guess I understand his energetic, kind of sarcastic appeal, and can hear the influence sought from later alt-rock vocalists, but I'm not keen on a great many of them either. Crop me out of your film, ta mate.

You can imagine the sense of dread which set onto me after receiving this album, as hip hop is largely not my thing. Overuse of N-bombs, muthafuckaz, drug/gangland themes, too lengthy and lacking in variety are all criticisms you could level towards this one as well. However, there are actually some very enjoyable funky, groovy beats and dirty bass to be had here if you're able to dissociate from what he's rapping about, and he has a very tidy flow/delivery. I'm really not qualified to go into much more depth on this sort of stuff, and I'm highly unlikely to consciously return to this, but I'd imagine there's far worse out there.

Classic Green Day, striking the perfect sweet spot between their rougher around the edges beginnings and exceedingly polished post-Warning offerings. My introduction to the band was American Idiot, but something about this album felt (and still feels) a lot more genuine to me. It's a seamlessly bound package with such an infectious charm to it - a couple of minor weak points in the second half prevent me from giving this the 5⭐ treatment, but it's pretty damn close.

Pretty tedious, one-paced stuff for the most part. I get that's entirely the point given the musical style concerned, but some fleeting flickers of variety and vigour on occasion would have been nice. Instead I'm lying in bed very much tempted to drift back off again. He has a unique voice at least, and this probably isn't all that bad for what it is. But it's not for me. That's all I've got.

Have I just stumbled upon the perfect, quintessential pop-soul album? It's not a genre I have much experience with at all, but there's surely not much else out there to rival this in quality. One of those albums where everything hangs together impeccably, despite some absolutely bonkers ideas regularly cropping up out of left field, and such a wealth of diversity from track to track. Stevie Wonder's voice is fantastic, and through his lyrics he explores themes of striving for world peace, the trials and tribulations of living in the US as a person of colour during the Civil Rights era, and throughout there's a perfectly balanced blend of gratitude for life, but also an anger towards the pool of injustices and challenges it brings. It reconciles the chaos and upheaval of inner-city life into such a wonderful sonic experience. Getting to hear stuff like this for the first time is precisely why I signed up for this monolithic undertaking.

Could have, and should have been an email. I'm convinced that this album only exists as some elaborate sadomasochistic social experiment. Anyone claiming to enjoy it has been commissioned for their opinion, or held hostage. Needless to say, I didn't indulge in its 3 hour running time.

This is actually not too shabby. I was half expecting some run of the mill "lads causing havoc in Tesco, great banter innit" album, but this is much more psychedelic and nuanced than that. There is some genuinely decent 70s throwback style riffage here, combined with the off-kilter energy of British indie and almost sea-shanty like glockenspiel. The problem for me is that it doesn't breach the threshold between "decent" and "great" often enough to be an experience that I'd actively seek out again. It's consistently very listenable, interesting at points even, but it doesn't really get me off my seat.

Just completely unlistenable for me unfortunately.

This is a masterpiece, and something the original list needs more of. It's angular, artsy, nervously off-kilter and intelligent, yet modest and personable in its execution. It gives off the constant impression of only being seconds away from impending collapse, but it never quite does fall in on itself. Lyrically, this is an exhilarating showpiece of the politically charged, progressive themes attributable to punk music, whilst Mike Watt contributes a more unorthodox method of writing through his abstract "spiels". Minutemen were considerably ahead of their time, and their importance to post-hardcore as one of its progenitors cannot be understated. It has as much in common with Talking Heads, Wire, even Captain Beefheart and Frank Zappa as it does with the likes of Descendents, Black Flag etc al. Their run was cut agonisingly short owing to D. Boon's tragic passing, a proper case of "what if" despite already making a seismic impression.

I have (and quite enjoy) Back to Black, but had never taken it upon myself to listen to Amy Winehouse's debut album, so I was kind of looking forward to doing so. Unfortunately, this is nowhere near as good or sonically developed as its successor, and she rubs me the wrong way vocally for large parts of what I managed to get through. I work on the basis of "if I couldn't finish it, it's getting a one star" which is perhaps slightly harsh on this one, but sorry Amy, this just isn't it.

This was rather quirky and interesting for significant portions of its running time. Equally, however, it disappears up its own backside a touch too much for my liking. It's a bit like a symphonic The Beatles crossed with Dead Can Dance and maybe even some Steven Wilson - if that sounds pretentious to you, then you're right, it absolutely is. I'd happily re-evaluate this one down the line, not sure if it's essential enough to warrant a spot on the list however.

Progressive R&B, funk rock, neo-soul, art rock and rap rock with Lenny Kravitz and the geezers from Good Charlotte featuring on tracks? I don't think an impressionable 11 year old me would've found that even remotely appealing, let alone now. It's decidedly average at all of those styles at best, and insufferable at its worst. They clearly had no one in their ear telling them "no", and somehow even managed to swindle a contract with Virgin Records. What on earth did they see in them? It beggars belief.

I've quite enjoyed this. It's a very tight punk/new wave album without too many bells and whistles, but sometimes a relatively straightforward rocker is just what you need. The album opens up a bit more in its final third with tracks such as "Private Life" and "Lovers of Today"; the latter in particular exercises a great use of build in creeping up from quiet into loud passages, and was a very welcome segway towards the end. I'm impressed by how consistent a package this is for a debut, and I could very well end up buying it.

Reggae is one of those genres that I'd rarely ever sit down and listen to of my own volition, but I can recognise a high quality example of the genre when I hear it. "Catch a Fire" falls into that category - following the warm bass throughout is akin to having your brain massaged, and the lyricism dealing with themes of political injustice towards minorities / abject poverty provides a chilling juxtaposition to the generally sonically uplifting music. I probably need to spend some more time with Bob Marley, and I know that he has at least one more album in the list, so one way or another I will get around to doing so.

I've never been particularly hot on Echo and the Bunnymen, whose music I've always felt was decent, if a bit unspectacular and lacking in memorability from the snippets I've heard. I've had a slightly better time with this one, which errs more on the psychedelic and experimental side akin to The Associates. Although, where they seemed to throw everything at it, this felt a bit more measured and restrained. There still aren't many individual moments here which really leap out at me, but as a whole it felt a bit more energetic and purposeful. It's got potential to be a grower, although when I'd actively choose to put this on again is an issue that hangs in the balance.

A bona fide classic album. Alongside the likes of The Fall, Gang of Four, Wire et al. this band were a cornerstone of the weird, off-kilter post punk style which would inspire countless later acts. This is their best work and an album which sounds head and shoulders above the vast majority of anything else which was doing the rounds at the time, in terms of its production values and innovation.

A stunner. Its hypnotic, dream-like qualities instill calmness in my mind regardless of what mood I'm in prior. It's relatively basic compositionally compared to his subsequent works - "Shh / Peaceful" is essentially one chord locking in a groove, but the trumpet and electric piano/organ work somehow opens up an entire universe within a track. Not a half bad collection of musicians who performed on this one either - Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Chick Corea, John McLaughlin. Simply untouchable.

This was actually quite decent for a style of rock that's never really connected with me. It's a jangly, and even a bit glam in places, indie album. The production is full-bodied for its time, with the more than audible bass guitar acting as a nice touch throughout. Lyrically, whilst there is plenty of self-pitying going on here as is commonplace for the style, this felt a bit more intelligent, quirky and less on the over-earnest side. I didn't want to set the vocalist on fire either, which is often a chief complaint for me within this sphere. I wouldn't object at all if someone were to put this on, but I'm not sure how quickly I'd reach for it again myself.

Wow, er... OK. This was quite something. Imagine if the members from Genesis were to all undergo frontal lobotomies and were given the task of assembling something which vaguely resembles their own music using FL Studio preset tools and tracks from the free trial version, whilst recruiting newly-divorced and in denial Gary from the local Woolpack Inn to employ his drunken stupor falsetto wailing from one Thursday karaoke night across an entire album, and you have a vague idea of what's going on here. All under the pseudonym of "Robert Wyatt" for the purpose of creating further intrigue. Does that sound like absolute shite to you? It probably is, but my "dropped on my head as a baby" brain is somehow ironically fascinated by it. Amazingly, I've only really scratched the surface. From the opening track "Sea Song", Rock Bottom heads off into arguably even more absurd directions, with some very unsettling, deliberately incohesive bass guitar, saxophone and keyboard playing culminating in a disturbingly beautiful avant garde mess of an album. It doesn't make sense, but I like things that don't make sense. We're even treated to a guest appearance from Gary's Scottish fishmonger mate Donald on the final track, sensing the opportunity to write himself into the history books in the library of "what the fuck". This is the sort of stuff that I signed up to this challenge for, not Elvis Costello and his unending encyclopedia of collated milquetoast sounds.

Another good album from an artist that I'm kicking myself for never having properly explored prior. This one is perhaps a bit more laid back and subtle than Lady Soul, but depending on my mood, there's equal chance I'd run with this one over the latter. The bass guitar work of Tommy Cogbill and Aretha's piano playing are nothing short of great. Also, I've already said this on my last Aretha review, but what a voice.

One of my finer discoveries so far this year. I found this in my local antique shop the other month and couldn't pass up the opportunity to add it into my collection. I wish I could teleport myself onto that album cover and hit the highway with these luscious beats soundtracking the ride. Hypnotic, groovy, trippy and ominous soundscapes perfect to just lose yourself in, but there's also a flippant, dirty swagger to be had on a couple of tracks, especially *that one* concerning having "the kind of night that I read about". There's not a weak moment to be had on this one in my view.

It's a style of hip hop, vocal delivery and overall attitude that does precious little for me. I tried; really, I did, but I couldn't make it all the way through. Genuinely think I'd rather listen to any of the country albums I've had so far. Some of the beats were half decent at least, even if a bit unvaried, and I recognise this is most likely a "me" issue with the genre as a whole just not resonating with me.

A smooth, pleasantly inoffensive enough soul album which became very boring very quickly. Anita Baker has a fairly accomplished voice, but never uses it in a vaguely captivating way. If The Black Keys were car advert rock, this is car advert soul.

I'm aware this is going to be controversial, but I found this really boring and one note for large parts. Lyrically it's excellent, but sonically it failed to capture my imagination.

I very rarely ever listen to live albums, but this is awesome and among the best that I've heard. The first two performances of "Highway Star" and "Child in Time" are the obvious highlights - Ian Gillan's vocal capabilities never cease to amaze me, and the drum solo in "The Mule" breaks the set up spectacularly, but there aren't any duds to be had here at all.

I only made it through a few tracks, but they were some of the most self-indulgent yet simultaneously vapid pop/R&B shite out there. Like months out of date packets of "builders breakfast" crisps which just taste like ready salted and are more air than actual crisps. This was supposedly the fastest selling album on the iTunes Store following its release until, you guessed it, Adele snatched the record a couple of years later. All I can say is that people are idiots.

Wow, this was a wild ride and I enjoyed every second of it. This is a wonderful melting pot of groovy tribal funk, warm bassy jazz, afro-soul and even hints of reggae as well, with the heritage of War's members shining through really tastefully and genuinely. A couple of tracks err on the lengthier side, but they earn their running time through being consistently interesting and engaging. Amazing discovery which has made its way onto my purchase list.

A very conflicting listen given developments in recent years. Listening now, it all smacks of shock for shock's sake and "look at me, I'm a freak, can't you see I am" posturing. When MM gets out of the way and lets the music do more of the talking, this does go hard at points, with Trent Reznor's contributions doing the heavy lifting in making the songs compelling. As far as industrial metal goes, though, there are ample examples of it being done better and to a less infringing degree elsewhere.

Some competent enough early punk, although with the sort of grotty, over the top lyricism that I've got very little time for. Yeah, it probably was influential in some way, but it's a listening experience which doesn't lend itself well to 2025. Two stars for having a bit of energy to it, I guess.

This is all over the place as far as my enjoyment levels are concerned. The omnipresent hits do a lot of the heavy lifting, particularly "Knowing Me, Knowing You" which is genuinely a top quality tune, though the other major events have overplayed themselves into such territories that I'd quite happily never have to hear them again. The deeper cuts are very much a mixed bag, the more up-tempo tracks faring better than the wet balladeering type ones, though none pop out at me as missed opportunities for further stardom.

I wouldn't call myself a fan of Oasis (or the subculture that surrounds them as an entity) by any means, and Liam Gallagher's whining does cut through me somewhat, however I can recognise that this has got some cracking tunes on it. It's the only album of theirs I've ever got on with, as it feels that bit more scrappy (in relative terms) with a stronger emphasis towards shoegaze and that swirling style of riffage, which became lost to some degree on the follow up. It's not something I'd ever actively seek out, but over a few beverages in a beer garden in the summer, you could do a lot worse.

This is top quality David Bowie, and amongst the upper echelons of his back catalogue IMO. It captures an inch-perfect balance between his artsy side and his more accessible, radiant rocking side. The bass-lines throughout are incredible, with an invitingly funky feel to them, whilst on the flip side there is a constant tension laid bare across all facets of the album, owing to Bowie's physical and mental state at the time of its recording. The man was quite literally wasting away but smashed out a masterpiece purely on adrenaline (and the white stuff).

This is only my second ever listen to what I'm aware is widely regarded as a classic album. I can see why - it's chock full of tasty riffs and has a very dark, moody atmosphere reverberating throughout it. Particularly of interest to me are the songs which take on an almost Middle Eastern feel, such as "Head Down", and the more expansive offerings where the tension and misery shine through the strongest. Vocals are often a bone of contention for me within grunge/hard rock, but Chris Cornell finds himself in that ideal sweet-spot of not being too yarling or overbearing for me, and his lyrics tell profound stories of dealing with depression, isolation, substance abuse and other unrest. Easy to see how this would have struck a chord with the vast audience in which it did. The length is an issue which slightly detracts from the replayability factor for me, though it is a dynamic enough experience to warrant the majority of its stay.

This was a bit like if you were to put The Distillers through some dull, vacuous mainstream pop rock filter. There's even a track on here called "Dull Life" to not-so-subtly qualify that. It constantly plays out as though it's desperately begging to be let off its leash, but the air-conditioned, corporate production and its tendency to segway into half-baked, "delicate" slop just as it promises to build up a head of steam, ensures that it all remains a bit tepid and flat. The Spotify version has FOUR acoustic bonus tracks tacked on at the end, which is where I cut my losses.

Prior to today, I couldn't tell you a single thing about Kiss or name you a single member other than Gene Simmons, who has been known to cause a stir on occasion with some off-handed comments. After listening to this, I couldn't tell you a single thing about it either, other than that it's some serviceable enough hard rock, but ultimately a bit throwaway.

Decent when it cuts straight to the point and lets loose, but it's somewhat dull across appreciable portions and a bit gratuitous on occasion. It felt way longer than 46 minutes. Two stars seems slightly harsh, but I'm not overly convinced it deserves three either. I'll give it the benefit of the doubt.

This was mildly amusing to begin with, but the longer it went on, the deeper my stomach plunged into a pit of existential dread. Musically it's a passable enough fusion of disco, funk and pub rock, if a bit shallow, but this geezer might be the most irritating vocalist I've been subjected to as part of this challenge. That's no mean feat when the likes of Anthony Kiedis, Billy Corgan, Damon Albarn, Emmylou Harris, Elvis Presley and the sheep-human mutant from The Flying Burrito Brothers have been served up at various points. It's like a pub joke gone way too far.

This man is, quite simply, a revelation. It takes a special kind of talent to notch up a performance of this calibre on an entirely improvisational basis, at the dead of night and with a last minute substituted, hastily tuned and adjusted baby grand piano. It's those imperfections and limitations with the instrument heard, combined with Keith Jarrett's boundless creativity, that firmly imprint this recording into the history books. An emotionally poignant and immensely passionate showing, not just through the breathtaking playing in and of itself, but also through the interspersed vocal ticks and welps of enthusiasm from Keith Jarrett that give the recording a deep-seated interpersonal feel. I wish I could have been there.

A decent enough listen, with the first half of the album conceptually focusing on chartering the various phases of life from childhood to old age. It sounds considerably ahead of its time for 1968 in terms of its production values, and I appreciated the "louder" moments where the bass guitar rose to greater prominence in the mix, accompanied on occasion by some orchestral elements. The problem is, I'm really not sure if I'd ever actively revisit as it requires being in such a sombre, despondent headspace to allow it to properly envelop you, whilst also being a low-key affair sonically.