1001 Albums Summary

First run standout tracks: Ted, Just Admit It..., Summertime Rolls, Jane Says Second run: don't feel like I want to listen to it again anytime soon Fun facts I've learned while listening to the album: pioneers of alternative music, those are nude sculptures created by Farrell and his girlfriend, and the only thing that stood in their way was themselves. I rest under the umbrella of alternative. I grew up watching Nirvana videos on MTV and have heard Jane says on the radio more than I can count. After reading some of these reviews, I, too, wish I could have been there to feel my mind melt upon hearing it for the first time. Although I didn't experience that, I can respect what this album represents. And honestly, "Jane Says" still hits as good now as it did back then.

I’m now closer to death but no closer to the truth.

First listen standouts: Everybody Hurts, Monty Got a Raw Deal, Man on The Moon, Ignoreland, Find the River Second listen standouts: Drive, Try Not to Breathe, Sweetness Follows This album is legitimately something perfect, and I don't have to sift through a million reviews to know it. I've settled on "Try Not to Breathe" as the current favorite, but that will change as I play this record into the ground.

Why is this album considered a landmark in British indie rock? Because everyone and their mum was playing it. On my first listen, through my rose-colored Lennon Windsors, I had to stop myself from hitting repeat on Wonderwall. I desperately wanted to love every song, hoping each play would reveal the b-sides’ personalities, but they all turned out to be the same person. The Swamp Songs serve as palette cleansers, and the first half of the album is the most memorable. There’s no doubt that Champagne Supernova reigns supreme among the best album closers. In the end, I’m more fascinated by Britpop’s grudge against grunge — and I've now walked away with a playlist stacked with names like Pulp and Suede.

I feel like Jazz Samba requires that I take a Jazz Appreciation course before I can give it the review it deserves. Subjectively, it’s a 2 for me, and that’s mostly because my jazz baseline is Kind of Blue. Where Miles Davis feels like a revelation every time, Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd just sound like a tiki-cocktail happy hour. Maybe that’s the point — this record feels like a watered-down introduction to bossa nova for American ears. In the end, I walked away more impressed by its historical footprint than by the music itself.

I’ve listened to Talking Book countless times, and I may have to accept that its brilliance lives on an ethereal plane I can’t quite reach — one where jazz nerds hang out. This album knows more about the universe than I ever will. What I do know: those funky beats move me. If I play this record any more, I might actually convince myself I need it on vinyl. “Tuesday Heartbreak,” “Superstition,” and “Lookin’ for Another Pure Love” feel like the most complete, accessible tracks — the kind of songs that would win over a Rolling Stones crowd. But I kept coming back to the political sting of “Big Brother,” the unapologetic funk of “Maybe Your Baby,” and the chorus of “Blame It on the Sun.” In the end, my favorite is I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever). When Stevie sings, come on baby, let’s fall in love, I honestly feel like I’m ready to take his hand.

I rather listen to This is it.