1001 Albums Summary

This is quite pleasant, but I don't see myself returning to it.

I liked this more than I remember, but it's still not something I'll revisit much. I generally prefer Lou Reed in small doses and stick to the "hits." But he's an icon, so I appreciate how much he influenced people I like.

What else needs to be say about this album? Even with a dud like "The Girl is Mine" (and to a lesser extent, "The Lady in My Life" and "Baby Be Mine"), it's one of the greatest of all time, even with everything we know about Michael Jackson now. The controversy around him will inevitably fade, but the songs will remain.

This is one of those bands I respect more than I enjoy. I totally appreciate how different they were and the influence they hold, and "Once in a Lifetime" is an undeniable classic, but... their music in general doesn't grab me.

I'm generally good with the hits when it comes to Elvis Costello. "Radio, Radio" and "Pump It Up" are classics, and there's some solid stuff on here, but I'm fine with the best of.

This is supremely cheesy '80s metal-lite, but it's very good at being supremely cheesy '80s metal-lite. Beneath all the "let's rock!" goofiness, there are some great melodic parts, and "Photograph" is still awesome.

C'mon. One of the greatest albums of all time by one of the greatest pop songwriters of all time. Five stars or fuck off.

We're not too deep into the 1001 project yet, but nothing compares to how much I hated this. The stunted adolescent angst of the lyrics, the awful vocals (screaming = fine,if tired; the singing = Creed-level cringe), the guitar wankery, the drum wankery (JFC that china cymbal)...I couldn't have liked it less. These dudes are huge, so this obviously this does something for a lot of people, but I was counting down the seconds till it ended.

The more I've explored the Stones' catalogue, the more I've realized I'm fine with the hits. Obviously "Sympathy for the Devil" is one of the most iconic rock songs of all time, and "Street Fighting Man" is one of their great songs. The rest are good to hear, but won't bring me back. Well, maybe "Stray Cat Blues" to marvel at how problematic it is.

I remember when this came out and people freaking out about it, but I never quite understood the hype. "Last Nite" is great, and I like "Hard to Explain," "New York City Cops," and "Take It or Leave It," but this never struck me as a generation-defining album or anything. It's fine.

Like Enter the Wu-Tang..., this album has a LOT going on, though the production isn't as dynamic as the material warrants. Everything kind of sounds at the same level, and some of the vocals sound surprisingly rough. Regardless, this is one of the landmark albums of '90s rap, even though it's overlong and overstuffed. I think it rewards repeat listens, though, because it's easy to miss everything packed inside it.

This is pleasant, charming '70s country. I liked it, but it's not my thing.

There's no reason this needed to be 18 tracks (or 16, minus the intro & outro). Related: I find CeeLo's voice grating after a while, even with it's enmeshed with well-arranged soul music. I wish there were more of that and less of everything else.

With David Bowie, I fall somewhere on the spectrum between "just the hits" and "will dive into the classic albums." I've done the latter, but generally stick to the former. This is one of many in his string of classics, and it's one where I'm happy just to come back for "Changes," "Oh! You Pretty Things," "Life on Mars?," and "Queen Bitch."

My biggest hangup with Radiohead is how bloodless their music sounds—cold, removed, heady to a fault. After a while, it blends together into a sort of white noise: ambient washes of percussion and synth, with Thom Yorke's heavily reverbed, barely intelligible vocals. My favorite moments on this are the ones have a stronger pulse: the second half of "2 + 2 = 5" and the almost NIN-esque "Myxomatosis." The rest falls away for me.

I don't know a ton about Jeff Buckley, other than "Hallelujah" and that he became pretty revered after his unexpected death at a young age. I know this album by reputation, but I don't think I'd ever listened to it from start to finish. While I enjoyed it more than I expected, I don't know that it's something I'll return to.

I bought this on CD 20+ years ago, listened to it once, found it boring, and haven't touched it since. Now I think it kinda rules?

My whole life, I've found R.E.M. hit and miss, and Document bears that out. I can't remember the last time I heard this, but this time around I thought it dragged—though it surprisingly picks up at the very end with "King of Birds" and "Oddfellows Local 151." Obviously "It's the End of the World as We Know It" is a classic of the era, and "Finest Worksong" remains great, so there's plenty to like here (and plenty you can skip too).

This is brainless party music, best enjoyed while rolling on ecstasy at a rave in 1995. It's a time capsule of mainstream electronic music 30 years ago, and I still like some of the beats and production.

It's always worth listening to full albums by iconic groups to familiarize yourself with the non-hits...but you'll often realize that you're good just knowing the hits, as was the case with me and Jefferson Airplane.

Maybe it's because I was startled to learn there are SIX (!!) Elvis Costello albums on this list, and maybe it's because I (unfairly) associate his '90s output with his crooner phase, and maybe it's because this album just isn't that great, but Brutal Youth did next to nothing for me. I was eager for it to end.

There's no reason for this to be two hours. I understand it's from the CD era, far predating streaming audio and the variety of options for DJs to post full sets. But it's so long and so repetitious. And to make a point that's surely belabored by now, that this is called Timeless is funny, considering it sounds so very '90s. It's very much a time capsule of breakbeat electronic music of that era, which is neat...but way overstays its welcome.

While I like some of the music on this—particularly when horns are part of it—the utter inanity of Steven Tyler's vapid cock-rock is insufferable. "Big Ten Inch Record"? Gimme a break. "Sweet Emotion" is a classic, though I prefer the version of "Walk This Way" with Run-DMC. Aerosmith is a legendary band and all that, but no thanks.

It's a nice break to get something I already know well. This album is understandably heralded as a classic, because it is one. Particularly the first half has a wealth of some of the Clash's best songs. This album is so great, in fact, one of their most well-known songs was buried at the end and not included on the track listing, according to Wikipedia. Even its slower moments are better than other album's better songs. London Calling (the song and the album) rules.

I'm not surprised this was a polarizing album. People probably expected more "My Girl" from the Temptations instead of psychedelic soul message songs, but those are definitely the best part of this album. When they segue into the love songs, it gets repetitious and tedious.

This is fun, if a little repetitive. Not sure this is one I'll revisit, but I do need to dig back into their discography.

This may be the first time I've had a desire to relisten to a Roxy Music album. It's not my thing, but there were enough moments on this that I've saved it to revisit later.

I was looking forward to listening to this, especially with the one-two opening punch of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better." But I didn't anticipate that the rest of the album would be slight variations on the same sound, and that sameness made things drag after a while. Well, "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better" is still great at least.

Considering how bloodless and bleepy-bloopy Radiohead's music has become, it's interesting to step back in time to when they were still a rock band. The seeds of OK Computer are here, but it's weird to hear them play straightforward rock music (relatively speaking) considering where they went after this.

I generally get my fill of the Pogues pretty quickly, but I liked this quite a bit. "Fairytale of New York" is a classic, and there's plenty to like on this—though I probably need to be in the mood for it.

I owned this album at one point, as well as Violator. I remember their being a bit of a slog outside of the hits. This leans that way—it really fades at the end—but DM does their thing well.

I haven't listened to this in ages and was surprised by how well I remember it. I think I got this from BMG back in the day and played it quite a bit. "Everybody Hurts" feels pretty cringe 30+ years later—and I can't hear without thinking of Dwight on The Office—and "Nightswimming" is the better song anyway. "Man on the Moon" is solid, as are a bunch of other tracks.

Some people I greatly respect worship at the altar of Brian Eno, but I've never really connected to his music. I was just thinking I need to give Hear Come the Warm Jets another try, though I'm sure it's on this list. Another Green World sounds a little undercooked to me, with songs that just sort of end—which makes sense if Eno had nothing prepared when we went into the studio and kind of winged it. Smarter people than I can argue for the genius of this album, but it doesn't do much for me.

This is forget-your-worries dance music, and people always need that. "Le Freak" is of course a classic, and I appreciate CHIC's place in disco and pop-music history. It's not something I'll necessarily revisit—"(Funny) Bone" is a weird way to end this album—but it was a fun listen.

I don't know why the YYYs aren't part of my musical diet more, considering I almost always enjoy them when they pop up. While I'm not sure this is among the 1,001 albums you need to hear before you die, it's very solid.

I'd forgotten how many hits were on this album. That run from "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" through "All Through the Night" is amazing—the rest of the album can't help but pale in comparison, though "Money Changes Everything" is pretty great.

Joni Mitchell is an icon, and Blue is rightfully heralded...but I've never been able to get into her. This album gets me close, though—I immediately played it again when it was finished. When she sings in her upper register, as on "My Old Man," it's like nails on a chalkboard to me. But I can get into the songs where she avoids that, particularly "River," which is great. I can see why people love this, even if it isn't something I'll revisit a lot.

It's always worthwhile to get something you know nothing about, and this couldn't be more foreign to me. At least I understood some of the French? This was enjoyable for a song, but stretched across nine 6- and 7-minute songs, it sounds like one hour-long track. At least I won't have to worry about separating the art from the artist.

This could easily be half as long and be a front-to-back classic. But even at a bloated 20 tracks, there are enough bangers on here to make this one of the Beasties' best and an iconic album of the era. (And I appreciate the instrumentals more now than I did in 1994.) FUN FACT: They recorded this, and I think all of their '90s output, at a studio like five minutes from our place in LA. G-Son Studios, represent.

What a bummer it is to revisit this knowing what Kanye turned into. I've been wondering if I could stomach listening to his stuff anymore, because I haven't in years. There's still plenty to like on here, skits and filler aside. There just isn't anything to like about Kanye personally anymore.

This cover belongs in a museum under a sign that simply says "THE '90s." I like Aimee Mann, though mostly for the Magnolia soundtrack. I haven't listened to much of her solo stuff. This is charming but probably not something I'll revisit (though I liked "4th of July" and "I Should've Known).

Aside from "You Can Call Me Al," I knew this album mostly by reputation, because it was so huge, and then, later, the blowback Simon got for it. I'm not sure what it says about him that the best parts are the ones with South African musicians. Otherwise I think this is kind of repetitive, though the bass work is top-notch.

I don't think this could sound more '80s—it all sounds so synthesized. I wonder if I'd like it more if that weren't the case, but probably not. I always found Simply Red schmaltzy, and the more upbeat, funky or even aggressive moments (like "No Direction") don't land, either. I also can't think of Simply Red without thinking of 24 Hour Party People, when God (as Tony Wilson) speaks to Tony Wilson: "It's a pity you didn't sign the Smiths, but you were right about Mick Hucknell. His music's rubbish, and he's a ginger."

This is completely unvarnished, utterly brainless cock-rock. Which should be an automatic thumbs down from me, but for whatever reason I find AC/DC more charming than, like, '80s hair metal or Led Zeppelin—even though it's SO MUCH dumber. (The rapey vibes of "Night Prowler" aren't great though.) I'm pretty sure it's just because I like Angus Young's playing.

Aside from the iconic songs from Breakfast in America (notably "Goodbye Stranger," which I LOVE), I know next to nothing about Supertramp. There's a throwaway line in High Fidelity where John Cusack dismisses his ex's new boyfriend as a "Supertramp fan." I didn't even know they were British. This isn't grabby like Breakfast in America, but definitely offers a peek into their proggier early days. Not my thing, but a worthwhile listen.

Err, I mostly remember the racy publicity Christina did for this album, not the music, though "Beautiful" was pretty inescapable. But this is from another era: 20 tracks, two "interludes," an intro and intro reprise, 77 minutes...it's overstuffed to say the least. The prefab platitudes in songs like "Soar," "The Voice Within," "Keep on Singin' My Song," etc., feel obvious and boring, but I respect the teeth in "I'm OK." I wish there were more of that.

Listen, if someone said to me in 1975, "Hey, do you wanna go down to the Record Plant and listen to Tom Waits record an album?" I would've said for sure, even though I'm not a fan. Because as a live experience, this was probably a great time 50 years ago, though probably not something I'd ever revisit in album form. Also: Waits was only 26 when this came out. Dude has sounded like a fiftysomething his whole life. BUT HEY now I know where Large Marge from Pee-wee's Big Adventure originated.

Hell yes. If all '60s music sounded like this, the Baby Boomers would have actually accomplished something.

It's a steady descent from "Tiny Dancer" as you progress through these nine songs. They're fine, just a little same-y and overlong. (Even "Tiny Dancer" doesn't need to be 6+ minutes.) And "Indian Sunset" feels pretty cringe, even if its heart is in the right place.

I know Sarah Vaughan less than Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald, so I was glad to dig into this album. I appreciate that it's not stuffed full of standards I've heard a million times—although she obviously sounds great on "Stairway to the Stars," and "Just a Gigolo," and her Ella-esque take on "How High the Moon" was fun. Her flub in "Willow Weep for Me" is quite charming too. Not sure I'll return to this, but it's lovely.

This came out during my peak 120 Minutes viewing, and the video for "There She Goes" was in heavy rotation back then. Because that song never did much for me, I never checked out the album. This is fun, jangly Britpop, given extra import by the "one and done" legend of the La's. While I can understand people's reverence for the album—I like "Looking Glass" in particular—I don't feel like I've been missing out these past 35 years.

Trip-hop never did much for me, but it was nice to dive into this. I'm not sure what it says that my favorite track is his cover of Public Enemy's "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos." The Smashing Pumpkins-sampling "Pumpkin" is fun, but the songs kind of recede into the background.

What else is there possibly to say about this album? It's one of the all-time greats for a reason. Many reasons, actually.

I'm not sure why it's been years since I listened to this, because it's great. Maybe I just have to be in the mood for it? This is the kind of album that rewards multiple listens because there are so many textures and ideas happening. I think I need to be in the mood for it more often.

Willie Nelson is a justly revered icon, and I appreciate his desire to revisit the songs he loved when he was young. This is pleasant, but I disagree that I needed to hear his take on 10 standards before I die.

Bold but not particularly enjoyable. Maybe it's weird to call something so cold and minimal "bold," but this is definitely an artistic statement. And as a lot of artistic statements go, it's not especially pleasant. All of my favorite Joy Division songs are elsewhere (though "Isolation" is solid), so I appreciate this more than I actually like it.

This is fine. I probably prefer IV, in part because Physical Graffiti seems to go on and on and on. This has moments, but LZ just isn't my thing.

Maybe the Toy Story films have ruined Randy Newman for me, because these kind of sound like variations on "You've Got a Friend in Me." I know they aren't really, but they aren't grabbier or more interesting than that, either.

This still rules. I haven't listened to it from start to finish in ages, and I'd forgotten just how dark it is. Trent Reznor was going through some shit, and this is an unflinching document of that time. This feels like when he really settled on NIN's sound, and I love all the elements he uses to assemble it.

Of the three Rolling Stones albums I've listened to for this so far, Aftermath has been my favorite. I'm probably still good with the greatest hits, but this album has more of my personal highlights than the others ("Paint It, Black," of course, but also "Under My Thumb" and "I am Waiting"). There's no reason "Going Home" needs to be 11 minutes, though.

This is LCD's best. "All My Friends" is their best song, and this is pretty great from start to finish. ("New York..." is kind of ehh, but I appreciate the sentiment if not the execution.)

While I like a lot about this, after a while the numerous instrumentals kind of makes it recede into the background. It's an interesting listen, and yeah, the Eno influence is palpable. I appreciate what Bowie was doing, even if it isn't necessarily something I'd seek out. I added several songs from it to my Instrumentals playlist, so that's something.

Other than associating them with electronic music, I know almost nothing about Goldfrapp. That made the opening track a real curveball, until I read that this album was a departure from what they'd done before. This is lovely and enjoyable, and "A&E" is downright great. Alison Goldfrapp's voice is incredible. I'll dig into their other stuff now.

I only knew Dusty Springfield's hits, so I appreciated digging into an album, even if it was annoyingly repetitive. I blame it on the style of the time, but every song is either pining for love, sad about love, or talking about love in some capacity. Maybe that's why my favorite song of the bunch is "Summer is Over." Also, I'm curious...Dusty Springfield had an incredible voice. She was also a blonde white woman who sounded Black. I wonder how much of her success came from white America's comfort with a white person making this music?

This feels like one that needs multiple listens to digest. While I've always liked the Kinks, I haven't dug deep into their catalogue. Everything on this album was new to me, which I appreciated, and I need to spend more time in their discography in general.

While I'd prefer fewer covers, this is fun. And "Maggie May" is a classic for a reason.

I expected to like this, but I found it surprisingly abrasive (not in a good way). I decided to give it a second listen and found it less abrasive, but definitely not the kind of thing I can listen to on headphones while working. This is meant for rolling on molly in a giant club. Even then, "Newjack" would still sound schizophrenic.

Listen, we all know the Rolling Stones are one of the two most important rock groups of the 20th century. But 60 years later, is their almost-entirely-covers debut REALLY essential? Is it crucial to understanding everything they did afterward? I'd say no and no. This is like hearing a recording of the covers they played in high school before they started the band for real. You're not missing anything if you skip this, and you're not wasting your time if you listen to it.

I have attempted to get into this album multiple times over the decades, and this most recent one may be my most successful. That still isn't saying much, because I don't foresee ever listening to this on my own. I appreciate this as a landmark album and respect its place in music history. "Wouldn't It Be Nice" and "God Only Knows" are classics for a reason, and there are great musical moments throughout. But I've always found their songs pretty trite (with some exceptions), and those vaunted Beach Boys harmonies just aren't my thing.

I haven't listened to this in ages and had forgotten about all the songs I like on it. The video for "Dig for Fire"/"Allison" was a staple of 120 Minutes back when I watched religiously. "Velouria" is a classic. "Is She Weird," "The Happening," and "Stormy Weather" are fun. There's nothing on here I dislike.

I love "Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead" and "Mayor of Simpleton," and I like "Dear God"...too bad none of those songs are on this. I wouldn't expect XTC to be making their best music in 1999, and it doesn't look like they were! I respect their iconoclasm even if I don't really want to listen to it. And the Beatles-aping "Frivolous Tonight" and "Fruit Nut" feel out of place on here.

I remember the "return to form" hype around this album after U2's increasingly annoying dalliances with electronic music in the '90s. And it did feel like the band getting back to what they do best...at first. It's a steep descent after "Beautiful Day," and the back half couldn't be less memorable. By the end, I was actively annoyed by its blandness.

I bought this on CD like 25 years ago and made a few attempts to get into it, but it never took. Revisiting it now, I both appreciate it more and find it repetitious, if that's possible. But no one else sounded like the Minutemen, and I appreciate how hugely influential they were. "Do You Want New Wave or Do You Want the Truth?," "Corona," "History Lesson Part 2"...there's plenty to like on here, even if it's not necessarily my thing.

It can be a challenge to back to the Foundational Texts of any art—music, film, books, etc.—because what followed in their wake is always more interesting. Even keeping in mind Buddy Holly's legacy and the context of this album's release, I found it tedious. Maybe it's due to the thematic repetition (love lost, love gained, love underappreciated, etc.), but these 25 minutes felt much longer to me.

I don't know that I've ever listened to an entire Queen album, and this was a pleasant surprise. It was not the slog I expected. There's just so much going on, and I appreciate the bold choices they made. While decades in the rock canon has worn down the edges of "Bohemian Rhapsody," it remains probably the weirdest hit rock song out there. I don't know that Queen will ever be a go-to for me, but I enjoyed giving this a listen.

I have a friend who's a huge Fiona Apple fan, and I know she still has a hugely devoted cult following. She has a great voice, and her whole thing works, but it doesn't do much for me. (Although my 20-year-old self was a fan of the "Criminal" video, as were many straight dudes).

This is very fun and scratches a nostalgic itch for mid-'90s electronic music that I didn't know I had. It neatly captures a sound I intensely associate with that time that I have a surprising amount of affection for. It also made my walk to the grocery store sound waaaaay more exciting than it actually was. Currently adding several of these songs to my running playlist.

One of my big musical regrets is not seeing Elliott Smith live. I came to him late, near the end of his life, and it just didn't happen. I don't know Either/Or as well as his self-titled album, but this has a ton of songs on it that I like quite a bit. I should be listening to it more.

It's easy to hate on the Doors and Jim Morrison's Lizard King tortured-poet horseshit, and it's not wrong, necessarily. I knew none of the songs from this album, but it definitely gave me a sense of his charisma as a frontman and vocalist. That's something. I still don't think I'll listen to this again though.

There is nothing left to say about this album, or about the Beatles for that matter. For me personally, I admire their ambition, but my favorite songs are the first two. ("Dear Prudence is my favorite Beatles song, full stop.) That leaves a looooooong time with other stuff. There's plenty to like in there, and plenty that feels like it was fun to make but not at all essential.

There's nothing left to say about any Beatles album, but ESPECIALLY Sgt. Pepper's. To me, it sounds like a more focused White Album, and like every Beatles album, I appreciate it more than I actually enjoy it. At least this one felt like less of a chore than the White Album. These days I'm most struck by how heartbreaking "She's Leaving Home" is, probably because I'm the parent of a daughter. And, you know, "A Day in the Life" is a masterpiece, yada yada.

Let there be no doubt which decade gave us this album. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, about it it screams 1980s. I'm not sure what it means that my favorite song wasn't on the original release ("Man-Shake"), but Culture Club's charms wore off for me pretty quickly. I think I'm better off having "Karma Chameleon" and "Man-Shake" on a playlist and moving on.

Sometimes debut albums are the best thing a group's ever done, and sometimes they're foundations for what follows. To me, Psycho Candy is the latter. The JAMC sound is here, but I think they found themselves later. I enjoyed this and particularly liked "The Hardest Walk," though it sounds same-y after a while.

Listen, Adele has a powerhouse voice. I understand and empathize with how a particularly brutal breakup inspired this album. But holy hell is it repetitious. "Rolling in the Deep," "Rumour Has It," and "Someone Like You" are great, but I was so ready for her to sing about something, anything else. The cover of the Cure's "Lovesong" is solid, though.

The Specials are a blindspot for me, so I was excited to check this out. I enjoyed it quite a bit, despite some side-eye for "Little Bitch" (and "Too Much Too Young" goes on and on and on). But this is fun, and I'll need to dig into more of their discography.

No one ever expected great art from Van Halen, and nor should they. This is utterly brainless cock rock, led by goofball clown of a frontman and the wankiest guitar player in rock history. But David Lee Roth is a charming himbo, and Eddie Van Halen was undeniably talented. It all works when put together, and even if it gets tiresome, it's all over in 35 minutes.

Spotify tells me that Shivkumar Sharma "was one of the truly great visionaries" of Hindustani classical music, and I will take their word for it. As a thoroughly Western punk rocker, I have a difficult time parsing this music, because it doesn't seem to vary much. After the first song, it seems like you've heard all that you're going to hear. The notable exception, I'd say, is the 20-minute "Raga Pahadi" with its percussive fireworks and guitar shredding. Otherwise I needed to double check that I hadn't set a song to repeat for an hour.

I appreciate Taylor Swift's versatility (and the hand of producer Aaron Dessner of the National), but this is repetitious—certainly thematically, but also sonically. Maybe it's my age, but I get bored when an album is so focused on relationship woes, which is probably why I like "Marjorie" more than most of the other songs. "No Body, No Crime" is a fun diversion, and of course "Champagne Problems" is quintessential TS. But when it comes to evermore, I'm like track five: I tolerate it.* * - I actually don't mind this, but couldn't resist the zinger.

Even though this album has a number of hits and hooks, it falls surprisingly flat for me. "Just What I Needed" deserves its classic status, and I appreciate the other songs that have become staples...but I also don't have much of a desire to listen to any of them. Shrug emoji?

For part of my freshman and sophomore year of high school, I rode to school with a guy who was a year older. This was one of a handful of albums he played on repeat (at ear-splitting volume). It speaks to the quality of the songs that I still like them. Obviously "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and "New Year's Day" are classics, but I'd forgotten how great "Like a Song..." is. There's a lot to like on this, and I'll take it over anything they've released since, oh, 1991.

I tend to reach my fill of Moz after about 20 minutes, but I liked this more than I expected, particularly the first third. I only really know "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get" from this album, though "Billy Budd" and "Speedway" (love the drums toward the end) stood out most on this listen. This sags for me around "I am Hated for Loving" and "Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning," but this is solid.

I'm not sure the last time I heard this album, or if I've ever heard the entire thing, but I didn't realize/remember that it's full-on disco (excepting token ballad "She's Out of My Life"). The classics earned their status, and I appreciated the deeper cuts like "Workin' Day and Night." I think it sags toward the end with "I Can't Help It" and "It's the Falling in Love," but "Burn This Disco Out" is kind of a banger.

For years I only knew the Sonics by name and reputation as proto-punk cult faves. I still haven't gone deep in their discography, so it was good to hear their debut. I'm all for loose-and-loud, attitude-heavy garage rock. This sounds like everyone was holding on for dear life as they blew through the songs, and I'm into it. It wouldn't work as well if it weren't so lo-fi, but this was a fun listen.

I appreciate the craft that went into this, I'm astonished that Jeff Lynne wrote the whole thing in three weeks, but I couldn't wait for it to be over. I feel like a lot of early punk bands cite ELO as a perverse inspiration, the embodiment of bloated '70s rock that had to be destroyed. They weren't wrong. But this is all harmless if occasionally cringe ("Jungle"). And hey, I respect Lynne's iconoclasm for releasing this when disco ruled the world.

I appreciate the ambition and craft that went into this, and I appreciate icons like "Another Brick in the Wall Pt. 2" and "Comfortably Numb." I just don't particularly like it. By the time the full-on Broadway musical of "The Trial" arrived, I was more than ready for it to be over. I do actually like "Comfortably Numb," but the rest of this I never need to hear again.

Three of these eight songs are stone-cold classics: "Everybody Wants to Rule the World," "Head Over Heels," and "Shout." Any other album would be lucky to have one song as good as those. The rest of Songs from the Big Chair can't help but pale in comparison, with slow tracks that feel needlessly long (and in the case of "Listen," so very '80s). Those three songs, though.

This album is about as icy and removed as it gets, and best listened to on headphones so you can be immersed in it. Even then it feels distant and frequently unsettling, which seems to be the intent. I'm not surprised "If I Had a Heart" and "Keep the Streets Empty for Me" have the most listens, because they are the grabbiest (relatively speaking). Otherwise this album seems deliberately constructed NOT to grab you, but to ease you into a cold embrace. There's certainly a place for that, but it's not necessarily something I'd revisit.

The book notes this was the fourth and final album of a hot streak Stevie Wonder had at the beginning of his post-child-prodigy career. As such, it would've been preferable to hear the other three first for context. Not that this album's charms can only be understood that way. "You Haven't Done Nothin'" is one of the great protest songs—and still relevant in our current hellscape. This feels like an album that warrants repeat listens to digest it fully, though it didn't hook me as much as I'd hoped.

Picture the most insufferable characters in a Woody Allen movie from the '70s. This was their favorite album. Listen, I try to be open-minded. I don't want to judge albums by their covers, or even by the songs I've heard before and disliked. I'm open to the possibility that I'll be surprised. Hey, I didn't even hate Bookends! But this album is proof that you can do all that and still have your presumptions reinforced. It starts with the cover, easily one of the wussiest in the history of pop music, and continues to the songs, which also earn that title. I'm not anti-folk. There's just something so acutely annoying about "The 59th Street Bridge Song," for instance, that turns me into John Belushi smashing the guitar in Animal House. The lyrics frequently come across as annoyingly self-satisfied (the nadir being "A Simple Desultory Philippic"), but are annoying in general. Ugh, and the ham-handed social commentary of "Silent Night" with news reports to close? The worst.

This is great, full stop. While I've heard this before, I'd forgotten about the banter between songs and announcements from prison officials peppered throughout. "Folsom Prison Blues" is an all-time classic, "I Still Miss Someone" is among Cash's best, and there's plenty else to like here. The mix of sentimentality, humor (gallows and otherwise), and Johnny Cash's authenticity makes it charming and real. What a legend.

I think my affection for "Money for Nothing" and "Walk of Life" is due more to their ubiquity during my childhood than really LIKING those songs, because I found this album to be a SLOG. The songs are needlessly long—"Why Worry?" into "Ride Across the River" is just brutal—with production that makes no mystery of when it was made. That's doesn't have to be a bad thing, but it didn't help this, either.

At 22 songs and 62 minutes, this feels like too much of a good thing. I enjoy Frank Black, but leave us wanting more, you know? (That said, closing song "Pie in the Sky" may be my favorite.) There's a lot to enjoy on here, but it starts to blur together. And I've always found Black's music—solo and in the Pixies—a little too detached emotionally to really grab me. It still works and is fun, but never really goes beyond that for me.

If you had asked me if I knew Joan Armatrading this morning, I would've said only that her name sounded vaguely familiar. But as I made my way through this album, I recognized her voice. While I don't get into this kind of singer-songwriter stuff much, I found it pretty charming. "Love and Affection" is the obvious standout, as its 42M+ plays attest. I don't know that I'll come back to this, but I appreciate it all the same.

My understanding of the Beach Boys' music falls into two camps: good-time pop claptrap ("Little Surfer Girl," "Surfin' USA," etc.) and ambitious, insanity-inducing epics (Pet Sounds, SMiLE). Because I don't care for their music, I've never thought about what lies between those points until Surf's Up. What a thoroughly strange album, starting with the completely incongruous album art and title. Even if it had a different cover, Surf's Up does not suit the music and themes here. In continuing with precedent, I didn't like it and actively hated "Student Demonstration Time." It has nicer moments, but none I plan to revisit.

I only know Janis Joplin by her hits and her place among rock icons who died young. I also knew enough to know she isn't really my thing, but this was still enjoyable—even if the first half of the album's focus on "man done me wrong" songs gets tiresome thematically. The instrumental "Buried Alive in the Blues" is pretty great (though the story behind it awful), and of course "Me and Bobby McGee" is a classic. Glad to hear it, probably won't come back.

The great comedian Jimmy Pardo calls Big Star the world's most overrated underrated band. It definitely feels like Required Fandom for indie cognoscenti, though others would be forgiven for wondering what the big small deal is. I saw a live tribute concert to this album at SXSW, and it was fine—just like this album. As the book notes, this is Big Star's "difficult" album, and its quiet restraint isn't grabby like their janglier, earlier work. ("Till the End of the Day" is closest and inexplicably has the fewest streams on this album). This is definitely a slow burn, and it probably rewards repeat listens on headphones. 3.5 stars.

T. Rex is one of my blindspots, a band I know only by reputation and the hits ("Bang a Gong" specifically). This probably isn't the ideal entry point, but it was enjoyable all the same even if it started to blend together a bit by the time "Main Man" closed things out.

Hey, this one's easy because it was my 2013 album of the year. Here's the review I wrote for The A.V. Club: At the end of 2012, Scottish electro-pop trio Chvrches had little more to its name than a couple songs online and a bit of buzz. When The Bones Of What You Believe, the group’s first full-length, comes out this week, the band will be on a sold-out U.S. tour, playing bigger rooms than it had when it came through those same cities earlier this summer. The polite yet insistent buzz from the beginning of the year has grown to a roar by fall, making The Bones Of What You Believe one of 2013’s most anticipated albums. Much of the attention Chvrches attracted last year was due to “The Mother We Share,” which the band had released online. It opens The Bones Of What You Believe and is the album’s leadoff single, with good reason: It’s one of the year’s best songs, propelled by overlapping synthesizers and a triumphant chorus that vocalist Lauren Mayberry carries higher with her lilting voice (made more charming because she doesn’t attempt to hide her accent). “The Mother We Share” attracted a lot of attention toward the end of 2012, but the band wisely kept it off March’s Recover EP and let it anchor the full-length. As good as “The Mother We Share” is, it wouldn’t be enough to carry the album, but Chvrches follows it with an even catchier song, “We Sink,” and another solid track, “Gun,” making for one of the strongest starts to any album this year. The rest of the album doesn’t sag, either; the only track that stumbles is the moodier “Science/Visions,” and that’s mostly because the discordant backup vocals clash with the other melodies. The song finishes strong, though, and is preceded by a pair of standouts, “Recover” and “Night Sky.” A lot has been made of Chvrches’ similarities to The Knife, but The Bones Of What You Believe owes more to earlier electro-pop and electronic rock bands, such as New Order, OMD, or even Yazoo. (The New Order/OMD comparison feels especially apparent when multi-instrumentalist Martin Doherty—a former touring member of The Twilight Sad—takes lead vocals on “Under The Tide.”) “Science/Visions” veers away from the album’s poppier sound and into straight-up EDM, and moody album closer “You Caught The Light”—led again by Doherty—conjures Disintegration-era Cure. Chvrches’ bread and butter remains highly melodic, synthesizer-based pop, but with just the right amount of darkness, thanks in part to Mayberry. She has a law degree and a masters in journalism, so she writes like she has something to say, not just to fill the space in the songs. She, Doherty, and multi-instrumentalist Iain Cook have crafted one of the year’s best albums, which means that buzz won’t be dying down any time soon.

This is one of the greatest soundtracks of all time, end of story. While it's a shame it has overshadowed the film—which is also great—you can't argue with what Curtis Mayfield created. "Pusherman" is one of the great songs of this era, which is saying something considering all the legendary stuff that came from this time. This rules, the end.

Over decades of listening to music, one thing I have definitively learned is that electric blues and blues rock are not my thing. As a child of the '80s, I only knew ZZ Top from the Eliminator era, and it wasn't until much later that I understood how far back they went (and that they're the ones who did that "how-how-how" song). Turns out I much prefer the stuff I saw on MTV, but the live version of "La Grange" is solid.

This came and went without my thinking about it much. When I did notice it, I mostly thought, "That's an awful lot of flute." I guess if I want to listen to Steve Winwood, I'll stick with "Valerie."

I feel like Funhouse gets all the attention, but I like Raw Power so much more. The title track, "Search and Destroy," and "Gimme Danger" are all great. This is what I hear in my head when I think of the Stooges. And goddamn right.

I'm not sure the last time I heard this the whole way through, but I'm guessing I was in elementary school. Obviously "Rio" and "Hungry Like the Wolf" are iconic (though the former has no reason to be nearly six minutes), and "Save a Prayer" is among their classics. I have zero memory of the rest of this album, and it's pretty solid—and so very '80s—though they could shave at least a minute off most of these songs.

This feels like Springsteen at his Springsteeniest, which is a good thing. I don't know this album particularly well, but it's great. That's it. That's the review.

I prefer Dylan electrified, and even then, I'm not a fan. "Like a Rolling Stone" is as good as it gets for me on this album. I don't actively dislike much of it—which counts as praise from me—but by the time "Desolation Row" went on and on and on, active dislike was bubbling up.

I know nothing about Miriam Makeba, but the limited amount I read today is pretty incredible. I kinda want to read her autobiography now. As for this album, it's lovely—minus the two irritating novelty songs, "The Naughty Little Flea" and "One More Dance"—and it's the reason I'm doing this project. "The Retreat Song" stands out for me, especially how she comes out swinging with her vocals. I'll definitely check out more of her stuff.

It doesn't really get more balls-out than this. Lemmy was a legend, though I always found Motörhead to be a bit one-note. That said, it's a fun note. Related, this band has nothing to to say (other than maybe Viv Savage's immortal "Have a good time...all the time"), but no one was expecting that from Lemmy. This doesn't pretend to be anything else than what it is, and live was undoubtedly the best way to experience Motörhead.

This was the first Wilco album I bought, right around when it came out. Nearly three decades later, it sounds so straight-forward, even with the swirling feedback in "Misunderstood." That's not a dig. Sadly, Wilco doesn't do much for me these days, so I have a lot of affection for this album, particularly the first disc. "Misunderstood," "Far, Far Away," "Monday," and "Outtasite (Outta Mind)" are all top-notch. The 2nd disc fades in the back half, but this remains great.

Aside from the great "Message in a Bottle," I don't think I knew any of these songs or have ever listened to this album. It's solid. The Police were coming into their own here, and there's quite a bit to like. My dark-horse pick is "It's Alright for You," which sits on the fence between punk and post-punk and should have way more plays.

I recognized Solomon Burke's picture but couldn't tell you what he sang, which is surprising considering he sits comfortably with other soul singers I like, such as Sam Cooke and Otis Redding. My first pass through this didn't do much for me (other than "Cry to Me"), but decided to listen again with headphones. That was the move, because I appreciated it a lot more. Not all of this hits, but it's pretty great regardless. Burke's voice is obviously amazing, the guitar is surprisingly intricate, and I'm generally a sucker for this kind of '60s soul. Thumbs up. FUN FACT: Solomon Burke and I have the same birthday. What does that mean? Nothing.

I don't doubt the amount of craftsmanship George Evelyn put into this, but it recedes into pleasant background music for me—like what I'd hear while I wait for the barista to prepare my cold brew. The 1,001 book boldly asserts, "Smokers Delight is one of those albums that everyone will ask about when they hear it playing. Then they will probably head out and buy their own copy the very next day." Maybe in the UK in the mid-'90s, but for me in 2025, I'll save a couple tracks to a playlist I have on while I'm working.

My knowledge of Nico doesn't go much further than her time with the Velvet Underground and some stories from books. This is the only album of hers I know by name, and I didn't realize she had a lengthy discography. This doesn't do much for me, even with all the talented people who helped make it happen. While she isn't a great vocalist, a) she was partially deaf, which affected her singing, and b) my record collection is full of people who aren't good vocalists. Maybe something else in her discography will grab me, but in the meantime, I'll stick with "All Tomorrow's Parties."

Having keyboards seems like it would've been heretical back in '77, but then again, X-Ray Spex had a saxophone, so maybe punk was less dogmatic then? Regardless, this is a fun time capsule from those early days. The bass and keyboards stand out, but the songs don't do a lot for me in general.

I don't think I've ever listened to this album. When these guys blew up, I was at the peak of my punk stridency, and Oasis' rockstar bullshit was anathema to me (and I didn't think their songs backed up their egos). I also was also on Team Blur during the completely-invented-by-the-British-media rivalry between Blur and Oasis. I've softened since; I listened to the 20th anniversary edition of (What's the Story) Morning Glory a bunch of times when it came out, though I haven't gone back to it. All that said, this album still gets a shrug from me. The songs are too long for what they are—"Live Forever" would be so much better if they chopped a minute off—and the lyrics have no shortage of clichés. It's totally fine mid-'90s Britpop. I don't say this often, but 1994 me was on the right track.

I didn't expect to enjoy this as much as I did, if you can "enjoy" an album about a devastating breakup. I'm generally fine with the hits when it comes to Beck (except for "Loser," which has annoyed me for 31 years and counting), and I only knew Sea Change by reputation. Twenty-plus years later, I probably take for granted what a stark departure it was, because this sound suits him well. I saved a bunch of songs from this for my "quietish" playlist, which counts as an endorsement.

I know nothing about the Gun Club, though I have presumably come across them before. And now I need to go through their discography, because I liked this quite a bit. I'm a sucker for merging Americana and punk (see also the Gun Club's contemporaries in X), and I like how this diverged from the SoCal punk sound that was coalescing around this time.

I think maybe my brief, intense period of continually listening to Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes as a teen has put me off anything that sounds similar. Fiona Apple is clearly talented and has a strong POV, and I like this ok, but it's not something I'll come back to. (I also don't remember her repeating lyrics this much?)

Probably the best Christmas album of all time.

The Fugees' heyday happened when I wasn't listening to a lot of hip-hop. I missed out on a lot of good stuff, including this. It's bonkers they never released another album, though I understand how things changed once they were thrust into massive success. Anyway, this is great and hits more than it misses. While the 1,001 book highlights Wyclef's reinterpretation of Bob Marley's "No Woman, No Cry," I found it a bit cringe, especially coming a few tracks after Lauryn Hill's take on Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly With His Song." (And two remixes of "Fu-Gee-La" are the definition of unnecessary.)

"Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard" is a classic, but I can't get into Paul Simon or Simon & Garfunkel in general. When you have two songs with the word "hobo" in the title, that's a sign this won't be my thing. Rounding up to 3 for "Me and Julio."

Eagles were/are one of the biggest American bands of all time, with egos to match, so this hardly needs any takes from me. But I did not enjoy this. The hits are fine (except "Peaceful Easy Feeling," blech), but "Chug All Night" and "Most of Us Are Sad" are godawful, and the rest of it is only nominally better. Hard pass.

While acknowledging Brian Eno's huge influence, I struggle to consider this essential listening—though I guess the book only highlights this, the first of his ambient albums. There's certainly something to be said for its restrained minimalism, but Eno himself declared the music must be "as ignorable as it is interesting." In that case, mission accomplished, as this easily settles into background music while I work.

You take the good with the bad with Ice Cube, the formerly ferocious and ferociously talented rapper who spends most of his time these days making crappy movies. His early solo albums are a mixed bag of blazingly great tracks and noxious misogyny (and occasional homophobia), both of which are plentiful here. You can't beat the Bomb Squad's production, though, no matter what Cube is saying. There needs to be more "Endangered Species" and "The Bomb" and less "You Can't Fade Me."

While I wouldn't put it past my more strident younger self to have hostility toward Pink Floyd, my memory is that I was more indifferent than anything else. Their looooong, proggy songs could sound like they were playing at the wrong speed on a turntable. Wish You Were Here still has elements of that, but I have generally positive feelings toward Pink Floyd these days. I'm not a fan and likely won't return to this, but I appreciate them and their artistry. 3.5 stars.

This is very much outside my wheelhouse, but enjoyable all the same. The book highlights how much Jorge Ben incorporated James Brown-style funk, which I can definitely hear in songs like "Ponta De Lanca Africano." I saved that one to a playlist, but I doubt I return to this otherwise. Glad to hear it though.

First of all, I had no idea the Flamin' Groovies were this old. Second, this is exactly what I expected: loose, raucous, and lots of attitude. So, you know, fun. I can picture Jon Spencer listening to it and having a light-bulb moment. The bonus tracks are definitely inessential, especially because the closing stretch of "Whiskey Woman" was the perfect way to end the album.

Spotify claims this album is one hour and 34 minutes, but I'm pretty sure it's twice that. At some point during "The Light Dies Down on Broadway," I had the thought, "Wait, this is STILL GOING." Toward the end of disc two, Peter Gabriel's vocals are less of a presence, and the proggy synth jams ratchet up (see "Riding the Scree"), and it's all too much. I enjoyed a lot of disc one, thinking, "Hey, this isn't so wanky!" That didn't last. At one point I looked at Spotify to see I had nine songs left. That seemed like an eternity, and it was. FUN FACT: Genesis' Invisible Touch was the first CD I ever bought. What if I had accidentally grabbed this instead?

Maybe it's because I was a kid when this came out and loved "Jump," but this is the only Van Halen album I need. Actually, I'm good with "Jump," "Panama," and "Hot for Teacher," but it's good to hear the other songs on this album, even if they pale in comparison. As usual, Eddie Van Halen's guitar wankery is frequently insufferable—the solos in "Top Jimmy" and "Drop Dead Legs" are especially distracting and disconnected from the songs—but that goes with the territory. This is brainless fun and absolutely iconic. 3.5 stars.

There's no reason this needs to be two full hours, but there less filler on this than I expected. Unsurprisingly disc one is better, and disc two gets pretty sleepy toward the end. Billy Corgan may be an insufferable jagoff, but the dude knows how to write a riff. I still think Siamese Dream is the Pumpkins' best, though I get why people love this album so much.

This album sounds like such a visceral kiss-off to Nirvana's head-spinning success, with Albini nurturing their most abrasive tendencies. I was surprised by how the 1,001 book called In Utero melodic, when even the more pleasing parts still have a serrated edge. Not to mention songs like "Very Ape," "Milk It," and "Tourette's" couldn't be less poppy. It also has my favorite Nirvana song, "All Apologies"—and there's no more haunting way to end this album and Nirvana's discography than Kurt Cobain repeating "All alone is all we are."

This is syrupy '70s easy listening, dripping with schmaltzy production flourishes that underline every sentiment to avoid any understatement. I would love to hear these songs stripped down, because for all the thematic repetitiousness—love and wanting it, losing it, etc.—there's something to the compositions, and obviously Karen Carpenter had a singular voice. I want more "Crescent Noon" and less "I'll Never Fall in Love Again." Also more of the flute, organ, and drums jam at the end of "Another Song." (I also kinda like their cover of "Help"?)

Nothing I've heard of Crosby, Stills & Nash over the years has done much for me, and precedent holds with this, their landmark debut. I can appreciate that they're great at what they do—and the three of them are icons—it just isn't my thing.

The Talking Heads are another band I appreciate more than I actually enjoy. They've always skewed too cerebral for my tastes, which are more emotional and gut-based. But More Songs About Buildings and Food hooked me more than usual. Opener "Thank You For Sending Me an Angel" is great—and deserves waaaay more plays than it has—"I'm Not in Love" and "The Big Country" are solid, and of course their cover of "Take Me to the River" is one of their biggest songs. Thumbs up.

"1999" and "Little Red Corvette" are among the greatest songs of all time, and "Delirious" is fun, but this album steadily, precipitously drops from there. It drags, but at least it's never boring. It also has enough WTF elements (the sexy moaning in "Lady Cab Driver," the weird police-radio talk of masturbation in "All the Critics Love U in New York") to keep you guessing.