Awake at 5:30am and still buzzing from the Jays ALCS win. Fuck it, play Dead Kennedys

I knew the two songs from this album that were everywhere at the time. The back half of the album was a chore to get through.

The album flew by. After I finished it I went back to listen to the title track again and ended up letting most of the album play through a second time.

Great music for when you're peeling out a 20 year old cat piss stained carpet from the basement of the house you were born in. Masked up, sweating, and thriving. 3.5

Perfect album for when you lack the proper tools for carpet removal so you use a hatchet.

The first 10 seconds of this album and a few short bursts of a siren whistle might convince you this album is a good hang. Welcome to harmonica hell: 2.5

A great album but it didn't leave much of an impact on me. I would never go out of my way to listen to any of these songs, but I also wouldn't object if I encountered any of them in the wild. 3.5

I started this album pretty sure I wasn't going to enjoy it but it won me over by the middle. That was his aim all along.

Damn Joni

I thought I would enjoy this more than I did. It really has the feel of something I'll like a lot more after my 3rd run-through. Room to grow: 3.5

8 years later and Green Light still pops into my head once a week, but If I'm constantly checking to see how many songs are left that's probably not a great sign. 3.5 *makes tnt exploding sound*

Childhood me loved her music videos but current me can't do a double album of mid career Christina.

I've never questioned the sincerity of giraffes until now. A real life altering album.

This album fills me with life. 4.5

Can't decide if I'm more of a "ant music for sex people" person or "sex music for ant people" person but I appreciated the entomologist representation.

You're so focused listening to 10 straight minutes of Beyonce singing about fucking and getting eaten out that your coworkers need to throw something at you to get your attention. This is not a 10am album.

This is definitely a 10am album. Background music

The organ music had me feeling like I was at an old school hockey game. Second one of track one will hook you instantly.

Each song has short bits that I like and could see myself enjoying but then everything else happens and I'm disappointed all over again. HOWEVER this album somehow infected my brain and I returned to it all day. 3.5

A great album to listen to while you close your swimming pool signalling the coming of fall, the season of death.

You've just failed to roll your 4th pumpkin roll cake and while that pain will never truly disappear, this album is certainly enough of a distraction to help you forget for a while. 4.5

This album is like eating reheated Detroit style pizza at 9am in the work break room.

A good album to listen to if you're talking with your coworkers about how it's okay not to be sad if a terrible person bites it in very ironic fashion. 3.5

This music became the soundtrack to a rugby match and now it'll forever be associated with 4 Kiwis trying to take down a jacked South African woman.

The perfect album to accompany a mid afternoon search for a soup recipe. If you stop paying attention to the music because your eyes were enticed by the addition of serrano chiles to a soup, it's okay you didn't miss much. 2.5

Listening to this will have you wishing you had a group of background singers to emphasize your mundane deeds. If the cake I'm baking needs 2 cups of sugar I need the singers to chime in after I add 1 cup with "he just needs 1, 1 more cup!"

This album is a well done steak and all you have is a butter knife, but then again given the title I'm not sure if I should even be listening to this. 2.5

Waking up on a Tuesday morning pondering the early results of the fantasy football season. A 1-1 record can feel like losing sometimes but this album makes you look at it with a little more optimism than usual. Egbuka is real. 3.5

As a kid listening to this you believe that nothing in life will be too bootylicious for you, but an important part of growing up is acknowledging that yes, sometimes it really is just too bootylicious for ya babe.

Every night you stare at the same spreadsheet even though it hasn't changed in weeks. The focus shifts from hope to despair and back again over the same question: is Quinn Hughes the man? *wails on the harmonica* 3.5

The new Wednesday album came out but you told yourself you can't listen to it until you've finished your 1001 albums homework. This album of piano and moaning was the generator becoming actively hostile towards me. 1.5

As a child raised on Genesis something in my dna activated like I'm some sort of prog rock sleeper cell.

You have a full blown head cold and you think maybe blasting 13:46 minutes worth of an instrumental funk jam called "Sex Machine" into your ears will force the mucus out of your nose. 3.5

Play this album through some loud speakers and watch all the old prog rockers in your neighbourhood gather and start telling one another little tidbits of information they all already know. "Did you know that's Greg Lake from Emerson, Lake & Palmer?" they each whisper to each other.

It's the type of album where I have nothing bad to say because I enjoyed all of the songs but there's no way it could ever go above a 3. It's a harmless album.

This album was smooth but in like a "I have nothing to grab onto" sort of way

Even The Beatles suffer from "your double album didn't need to be a double album" syndrome. My father is going to disown me.

Starting to come to terms with the fact that most of these bands I grew up listening to on the radio with my parents are best left to their greatest hits. A whole album's worth gets a little dull.

The soundtrack to Hannah Botterman and Ellie Kildunne beating your Canadian ass.

The Mets will never be the Dancing Queen. They didn't make the playoffs despite all that Money Money Money spent. Knowing Me, Knowing You of course I should've expected this but Why Did It Have To Be Me. 3.43

Growing up my dad used to sing Devils Haircut to my sister and I and now that man is out somewhere drinking in Portugal. These two things are unrelated. 3.73

This live album definitely goes and if you listen to it in the shower like I did it'll help wash the stink of Jerry Lee Lewis off of you.

I was not prepared to be sobbing over a tuna melt in the middle of the afternoon.

There has always been something about Dolly's voice that feels close to Alvin and the Chipmunks. I loved Alvin and the Chipmunks

I really wasn't feeling this album much at all but then A Day In The Life came on and smote my questionable opinion. 4.14/5

Passionately singing the chorus to Bad while I bake peanut butter cookies. This is PEAK kitchen music 4.5

It's October and you continue to water your hanging baskets because you want the joy to last just a little bit longer. This album goes down as easy as water in a bone dry million bells.

I want my Much Music definitely doesn't have the same ring to it as I want my MTV but as a Canadian you're used to making these sacrifices. The slurs in this hit you like a jump scare.

An album that's trying to get your body moving and move you to action. Perfect to listen to while you do a job that requires extreme stillness.

"When seasons change and we begin to pass September A lot of scars that kind of scare you to remember" That's right folks, the NHL is back.

The soundtrack to a morning of sending emails to government agencies on matters of cooler possession. The psychedelic jamming flowing out of my fingers and onto the keyboard.

Listening to this while staring into a still lake might make you go for a swim and never return (compliment)

Walking in the woods listening to Rubber Soul and carrying my nightguard in my pocket. No matter how relaxing a nap down by the lake sounds, the threat of teeth grinding never leaves. My mouth guard is my tether to reality

Sitting at the foggy dock at 7 in the morning and all the hunting dogs barking in the distance seem to match the beat of You Are The Sunshine Of My Life like they heard Stevie's call

Driving down from a cottage listening to "City, Country, City" as you pass by Toronto for the 2nd time in 3 days really makes it feel like this album was sent from the album generator gods. 3.5 (for the 3.5 hours we drove).

Sometimes your bags of Thanksgiving cookies get crushed because they were packed underneath the luggage for some reason. You gotta learn to look at things differently, a handful of broken cookie pieces is just a full cookie from a different point of view. anyways....in the first song he talks about being born to love a little girl and in the second song he begs God to make an uninterested woman love him. "I know she needs me she just doesn't know" real sucker shit Dion.

Somewhere within all the noise of this album I found myself nostalgic for the age of the landline home telephone? I still remember about 4 telephone numbers from my childhood which is surprising to me given the state of my mouldy grey matter. 2.5

Spending hours of my day in a car with my boss. I put this album on and he cranks up the volume because it's his wife's favourite. Management lovers love MGMT. 2.75

Really unsure how I feel about this album. I continue to go back and forth between thinking it's fine and thinking it's "we have David Bowie at home" mixed in with way too much singing about young girls. 2.5

Doing my laundry on Saturday instead of Sunday and nothing seems right. This album feels like folding clothes.

Do you need to beware of all the behind the scenes drama from this band in order to really appreciate this album and the one that came before it? All I know is that there is drama but I have no idea what any of it is. I have gochujang under my fingernails, Redzone on mute, and this album playing through a sub par speaker.

This album will have you stop in the middle of a shift to look up how mangoes Jamaica exports annually. It's the joint. 3.5

Awake at 5:30am and still buzzing from the Jays ALCS win. Fuck it, play Dead Kennedys

After yesterday's ideal punk song length I am forced to endure one song dragged out over 30 minutes. The late 60s and early 70s were a plague. 2.5

I'm not old enough to be in my jazz era yet so in order for me to really enjoy a jazz album it has to be in a supporting role. I need jazz to be my wingman to a good time. This album joined me on a solo walk in the woods. Not a single other person in sight just me, this album, and the reds and oranges of fall. Shoutout to the teens who left an empty bottle of green apple vodka in the woods. You guys had a great time.