Sorry, a few groovy beats don't absolve this album be a quite a tortuous listen of misogyny and violence. Perhaps...have tuneage without this - how hard can it be? Made much better by imagining literal dogs bow-wowing.
Wonderful bleeps and bloops and, whilst biased because I can see what music it led to, felt fresh and exciting
Probably not unoriginal, but it sure sounds it. Even the deep cuts I've heard in the music they've inspired.
Supreme talent, but doesn't get away from it saying....very little.
Sorry jazz, it's just not me - music should take you places, and this doesn't.
Yep, this is more like it - instrumentation and soul. And so much better than just being the son of a preacher, man.
As ever, made so much more with a bit of context. Ah, Jamaican influence, early punk! So much more than the hits, and a real time capsule. Shame the vocals grate mine lugholes.
So hard to hear fresh, and separate it from the conversations of America - it's use at rallies etc. But I can see why it's been coopted - it feels biiiiiig, approachable.....American. Odd - considering how much I love Sam's Town - but that doesn't sit well with me. Perhaps the 80s bombast, the prototypical American stories, but there wasn't enough ambiguity, mystery for me to get excited, or want to listen again.
Some lovely dark vibes; a true standout!
With the exception of a bit of movement at the end, felt very loungey, with scarce excitement - is this country adjacent nonsense what a whole swathe of America listens to? An hour of my life I'll never get back.
Sorry, a few groovy beats don't absolve this album be a quite a tortuous listen of misogyny and violence. Perhaps...have tuneage without this - how hard can it be? Made much better by imagining literal dogs bow-wowing.
Not quite "don't go to the ambulance!" but a slice of punk adjacent tunes that feel so of their time. Results in a very one-note album, and there's only so much misery tinged sprechgesang I can cope with, not aided by a some less than exciting guitars. It just....is.
Much better than a lot of jazz, with some actual narrative in the piano driving things forward. But then some noodling saxophony that did nothing for me,
Quality vibes and at times a lovely atmosphere, but let down by all that whisperpopping about - why the need?
It's got some bops; huge, and those would elevate it to a perfect album. But in the midst of that, there's a Born to Run cover, some really needless filler....what is going on? How can an album with Two Tribes, Relax, the Power of Love be....boring?
At times sounded like Simlish elevator music, and despite some very smooth production, it all felt a bit uncanny valley with what sounded like all those programmed beats. (Perhaps this distracted from Maxwell's voice, which is clearly good)
Clearly a product of its time with samples being in their infancy. But a lot to like, and makes me want to return
Wonderful bleeps and bloops and, whilst biased because I can see what music it led to, felt fresh and exciting
Some bops, and nice synth noises, and I wouldn't mind hearing this on a jukebox in some alternate 80s reality that I was living in. But I was waiting for it to end, and won't be returning, and Groove is in the Heart aint that great....
Oh so clearly of its time, and I'm not one for screechy guitar solos. But it rips, a really tight forty minutes that means no self indulgence. Still want something odder, more angular, more technical in my metal, but that's not to denigrate the classics.
Would need to listen to it again, and again and again, but the texture, the feeling of specificity that cut through this provided an escape to south London that was really welcome.
Didn't get through this all, but I'm afraid another jazz album with little motivation, drive, or interest. Clearly talented, but amounting to nowt.
Threw everything at the wall, and whilst it wasn't bad, why? Not sure about the random barking, and a suffusion of excessive instrumentation meant any singular sense got rapidly lost. But then, he did, so kudos. (Also can't distance it from the overwhelming sense of prog ie. aging out of touch middle England who are there to fawn sycophantically over a drumstick from 1970, and are the types leaving comments on YouTube videos saying "isn't it great the youth can make music" - but I accept this is my own prejudice!)
Needs to be taken in context, but it nevertheless feels like these raw sounding guitars saved us from loads of overproduced mediocrity.
Inoffensive to the point of forgettableness for me - Money's too Tight to Mention a groovy little hook, but otherwise the aimless keyboards and a suffusion of meandering vocals means I won't be back.
It just...is. Some beats and noodling, but is my life any better for having listened to it. Doesn't even get by via virtue of its creaiton, its position in a larger discograpy.... And has the audicity (even ironically) to namecheck a load of better artists. You better be good to invoke Bowie et al!
Much better vibes than Born in the USA; it seems the introduction to a vast swathes of America (well, New Jersey) and novel experience. Surely something to return to again and again. A very strong four, escaping five because I'm me - there's only so much you can do without some truly exciting sonic titillation (saxophones don't count) and just some great songwriting.
Very middle of the road indie plonk, and a "a kitten from great britain" will go down as a particularly egregrious rhyme - like thre rest of the album, it felt awfully tortured trying to be meaningful
Yep, it's pretty good - manages to be folk but with an extra level of texture that surrounds and suffuses everything, but never overwhelming. Melody and arrangement worht returning to, and doesn't outstay its welcome. Hello lampost!
Fine, agree with the top review that it seems a bit filler in the context of best albums of all time. Odd, considering some standouts on the record.
Something novel, wonderful bassy crunchy vibes throughout , and a breath of fresh air.
Rather wonderful - nasty, dirty anger, but never to the point of noise. Felt unclean listening to some of it, but I still returned. Even the programmed drums grew on me, a tantalising look forward to NIN and the like.
Top quality sound, and - to its detriment or not - didn't notice listening to it three times on the trot. One of these things that is impossible to truly love not knowing more of the context in which it was produced. It just....'was' - a good spirngboard for finding some more things.
Didn't get through this, puerile and mysoginist nonsense, made with a load of skits that just seem..... juvenile in the worst way. Barely any musicality in it to redeem it
Groovy, perhaps forgettable at times, but I've soft spot for this sort of Americana - even if these folk give into the temptation and start singing about their cars. A much stronger first half, or perhaps just an album that wore a bit thin.
I'd enjoy this hugely at a hoe-down, or a state fair. But listening here, I really don't think I have the patience for a whole one.
What more to say about this; a pop punk concept album that was a hugely popular across my early teens. Trying to listen to it now; well - of course some parts feel a bit a hackneyed, or on the nose political commentary. But who can write satire that stands the test of time, and Jesus of Suburbia remains a wonderful slice of excitement. Gas stations, parking lots, and romance - it's got a real sense of place. Of course I still listened to it all, and enjoyed nearly all.
Groovy as all heck, and and to hear what felt like a turning point in pyschadelia[sic], but also black music.
Accusations of hipster nonsense be damned, this is a cut above.
Top punk, not musical enough for me personally, but I don't think I have a leg to stand on when I approach The Adverts asking for some more chords.
It's gatorin' time! With all the noodling that drags on, turning a short album into something that feels far longer, this risks being self indulgent. However, with guitars that sound this swampy it's hard not to feel the vibes, even if all a bit one note.
One note, and a very subjective five stars (but what is this list for if not being subjective). An overlong opus of knotty, crashy noises and the sort of lyrics that would be trite if not situated in the dense and layered industrial world that Reznor builds. An utterly absorbing listen that feels exciting. And of course, ending on Hurt; for me vastly superior to any cover, loops teasing themselves in the background over increasingly tortured vocals. They rise, our single singer overtaken by the machines, melodies collapsing into metal on metal, noise, machinery. Shivers.
Enjoyed it sure, at least some of the incredibly layered drumbeats. But of all the noises to listen to, I think i could have made it to death wihtout this one.
So much novelness! And some real standouts, and - as ever - wonderful to hear the first time music did something. But to interrupt all that skill and bomnbast with some random improv noodling????!!! Really detracted from me, and is probably to blame for a lot of the prog out there that doesn't vibe with me
"Oh wait, I have heard Black Sabbath" The 70s bombast aint my thing, but can't deny my enjoyment, incredibly tight vocals, varied textures, and (perhaps thanks to the remaster) sounding crisp.
The temptation to give this five stars is great, because it's the White Stripes, and all their singular energy that feels at once modern and alsolike listening to some old blues song for the first time. Is it just a bit all over the place, and not an album though? Ah helll, it is five stars. Why not. Dances from aggresssive riffs to childlike wonder with naught but a piano. Happily would listen to on repeat all day.
Was nto expecting to like this as much as I did; whilst a lot of random interludes about how great she is did little, there was no getting away from her voice, and a series of Bond-esque ballads that were tryue bops. Shame about all the R&B vibes that took up too much time.
All the textured instrumentation in the world doesn't detract from this feeling very wallpapery. Great, beautiful wallpaper, but I got no chills. Like an exquisite gilded parlour, beuatiful tendrils of vocals. But after listening to it once and not having one song stick out, it's got to be a pass. Perhaps one of my meanest and most subjective album reviews, given the consensus, but hey.
Dreamy beautifulness; more of this please. Perhaps not life changing, but tasted like a slice of autumnal heaven, and the concessions to maximilism clearly dragging it away from whisper pop.