Spent all day trying to put my finger on why I love this Bowie album (maybe the most of them all). Is it performance art? Like was he actually the 'Thin White Duke'? Like was there no real pretending or character acting involved? The whole thing feels scarily real to me. And yet still it grooves and still it pops.
Big classic. Big love.
Forcibly reminds me of year 9. Listening to this meant you were one of the cool kids. Feels very familiar now but the minimalism was incredibly striking at the time.
'Jackie' hit me like an uppercut that snuck through my defences. Same Scott grandeur but more energy. Thoroughly enjoyable. Three stars because I felt it tapered off a little.
Look, I didn't listen to the whole thing, but may do yet. I like Roni Size - even more so now that I've heard almost half of this album.
Goin 5. Feel like I can see the influence of Mingus everywhere I look now.
Vastly underplayed album. Understandable when the songs are 10 minutes long, but no excuse for the rest. 9 out of 10 = five stars all day long
A bit too 'guitar, drums and bass' for my taste I think. Enjoyed the folkier numbers.
A bit too 'guitar and drums' for my taste. Look, it's fun - but that's not enough.
Really pleased to have heard this. Clearly a noise record of sorts but somehow it's indie sleazy as well. Feels like a lockdown album. I've bookmarked it for the next pandemic.
Spent all day trying to put my finger on why I love this Bowie album (maybe the most of them all). Is it performance art? Like was he actually the 'Thin White Duke'? Like was there no real pretending or character acting involved? The whole thing feels scarily real to me. And yet still it grooves and still it pops.
Not my first time funkadelicing, but perhaps enjoyed it more than ever today. A slow grower mayber. Going 4 (for now).
Kept me interested for 40 minutes, but also provided plenty of reason never to return. Highly likely the 80s will come of worst of the decades in this project. The greatest cover of all time - containing one of the greatest solos of all time - added a star.
Clearly sick - 'nuff said.
In 1963, while shooting 'A Hard Days Night', Ringo famously quipped that he was a 'Mocker' when asked to align himself with one of the subcultural tribes of the day. Had the Who been presented with the same question in 1965, there would have been no possibility of straddling the divide. Poster boys for the Mod movement of the early 60s, this proud working-mans style is typified by the cover of their debut album. 'My Generation' was the anthem for an era defined by polished Vespas, sharp Italian three-button suits, heavy parkas and 'faces' framed by carefully manicured haircuts. Merely five years later, unkempt shags falling over unbuttoned, baggy shirts, the Who took to the stage at Leeds University to capture their transformation into their former nemeses - rockers. Stretched over 80 minutes of over-indulgent posturing, this attempted statement of intent collapses in a mire of pointless solos and confused messaging. Hidden amongst the rock slop, earlier classics were treated with disdain, squashed into an unloved medley - blues and rock'n'roll covers were preferred to many fan favourites. Attempts to apply the themes of working-class British life from their previous era to this new 'heavy' sound jar significantly. Daltrey often seems to be operating at odds to the rest of the group, while his input - at worst - is borderline paedophilic. And what of 'My Generation'? Once so sharp and cutting - it's heavier moments controlled for maximum impact - at Leeds the track was dragged through a tortuous fifteen minute slog. The goalposts now having been moved: lyrics designed for a modern, upwardly mobile clique, when applied to the unwashed masses simply don't make sense anymore. Ringo sought to pacify - behaviour befitting a Beatle. The Who sell out - they did at least warn us. Mod lived on, transformed, adapted, shorn of their former poster boys. Who?
Seeing Pulp at Glastonbury this year was really special. We basically knew it would be them, but the 'secret' set still wowed from opening with 'Sorted for E's and Whizz', to inevitably closing with 'Common People'. Had any of the other tracks from this album featured in the rest of set we would have gone wild. Jarvis was not the hero the 90s wanted (that was probably Liam), nor the one it deserved (that was probably Damon), but the one it needed. At Britpop's incredibly uncertain legacy needs him even more now.
I've never really got the hang of this album. It's pleasant, makes nice dinner party music for example. Always felt it was lacking a little oomph though I think. The songs don't wow me like the voice does.
Very pleasant.
If I had a pound for every time I'd tried to get into post-rock I might be able to afford a pint outside of London. This was the second pound earnt from this record. Sam Jennings first introduced me to it and when he did I listened to it every day for a week or so. This was the first I'd revisited it since. Lots of cool moments but hard to give it a four.
Did not listen.
One listen really is not enough is it. Sounded like I might love it, but going with a nice, safe, cosy three stars.
Gonna give this the benefit of the doubt and assume it hasn't aged well. This shuffly, triphoppy style has been utterly subsumed by hotel lobbies and holding tones and feels very dated - which is not it's fault! But after two listens, I'm failing to see the edge which separates this from the decades of musak it no doubt inspired.
Still might give this a five (merdre, merdre). Its so far ahead of it's time (merdre, merdre). 1978?? (merdre, merdre). More like 2025! (merdre, merdre). This modern dance!
Too long and too bluesy for me. But Yellow Brick Road is a Cotton family classic forever.
Completely mid. Was nice on parkrun but already forgotten it.
Might listen again.