1001 Albums Summary

First one - giving straight up 3 stars as a benchmark to the rest. This is about me, not Radiohead

I respect this whole concept. Of all things you can do post stadium sellout superstardom, creating a cartoon experimental band is up there with the best possible outcomes. Three notes: 1) The alternative youff of Australia wear Gorillaz merch. I never would have picked this band to have cultural relevance in 2025 2) They terrify Willem (four years old at the time of writing). I whisper “that it’s all in your head” and he completely loses his shit 3) Three stars seems harsh, but it’s in context of the list and also because I don’t really like listening to this album anymore

I have been passively exposed to this album my whole life, without ever once consenting to it being put in my ears. It is like reviewing dogs barking in the distance or engines idling in gridlocked traffic - something ubiquitous and vaguely annoying thrust upon us all

This album unites people. Anyone - regardless of age, class, nationality - can agree that this is a masterpiece and Van Morrison is a raging dickhead.

It’s so good I can’t even think of a pithy joke. Actually I wish I could rate U2 lower

I would rather listen to Jagged Little Pill (two stars) than listen to this again. So for consistency’s sake (and fairness to Alanis), one star it has to be

Honourable mention for the album’s ability to instantly make everything a bit sleazier

Kept returning to this album after having Nightclubbing stuck in my head for the last three weeks

My personal favourite Tom Waits album. Have thrashed and will continue to thrash into old age

The voices startle me when listening to this with headphones. Sounds like a sleep paralysis demon whispering in your ear

Probably should’ve been three stars, but the following pushed it up: 1) The 1994 sega mega drive game ‘Rock n Roll Racing’ had a 16 bit version of Highway Star, complete with the extended solo (pure genius). The solo was like an Easter egg. One only heard it when the race was well and truely over, and you were driving around the track backwards to collect the remaining bonus items. 2) The local speedway - Woodford Glen - had a local broadcast ad with Smoke on the Water blaring way too loud (also genius). It wasn’t until high school that I realised the song was not named Woodford Glen

Three stars feels unfair, four feels generous in the context of this list. If in doubt, bump it up

I associate this album with patchouli and bad times

Was expecting to hate this way more than I did. It’s mostly harmless, like a bald hedgehog

Nothing but respect for an eleven (11) minute song on a 35 minute album

I love Ash and was stoked to see them on this list. It was like walking into a fine-dining restaurant and seeing a dirty ol’ hotdog on the menu.

This brought on an existential crisis. How to review Alanis? Do I like it (no)? Does it hold up (no)? Is it meant to hold up (no)? Does it have the cultural significance to be on this list (yes)? Does it nail what it’s trying to do (yes)? Is it brave or clever to rip the shit out of it (no)? Is it better than Radiohead’s Amnesiac (no)?

Nostalgic album that I heard a lot growing up. Extra points for Yusaf coming to Chch after the terror attack - all round good guy

This was such a party album from university days I felt drunk listening to it again

Some of the delivery is a bit dated, but the beats and general content are still fckn awesome. Driving round stoned with your mates music

Some high points and joyous waves of 90s nostalgia, but padded with too many filler tracks

‘Does it get the toddlers dancing?’ Is a useful guide to music quality. This one got the toddlers dancing

I really tried with this. It felt to me like music by committee - a whole bunch of different Producers chipping in to leave one big puddle of soulless compromise

I have listened to album maybe seven (7) times over the last two weeks, and writing this now I cannot recall a single song on the record. Either it’s unmemorable or my brain is unmemorablisable

I get Keith Moon’s contributions to binge drinking and smashing things, but godamn his drumming is annoying. Blap blap blap didida didida didida pow pow pow. Basically non-stop fills for an hour like a hyperactive toddler. Pop pop pop blam blam ba-blam boom. Also only the extended version was available to stream, and this somewhat confusingly puts the objectively worse extra stuff at the start of the album. This batshit move raised my rating from 1 to 2.

I played poker with this guy in Shanghai. He had full body tattoos, thick spirals that made him look like a soft-serve ice cream. He had an iguana that he kept losing throughout the game. It would just roam his apartment, then he’d find it on the coat rack or on the microwave or somewhere. He’d pick it up, it would scratch his arms, blood dripping over the tattoos, and he’d mention something about iguana claw bacteria and nasty infections. Then he’d sit down and play more cards. Anyway, the point of this story is the whole time this was happening, KMFDM was blasting from huge speakers. “You guys like this? It’s real industrial. KMFDM. Stands for kill mother fucker depeche mode.” I had never listened to Depeche Mode before, but did they deserve killing? Sure, why not. A relentless German beat can convince a man of anything. This KMFDM ethos stuck with me for nearly 15 years. Now, finally, I get my chance to KMFDM, through a totally undeserved two-star rating on this website.

Glad I listened to this, but I probably will never put it on again

Went down a treat on a lazy Saturday morning

Never heard of this before. 20 mins later, trying to learn the riff for Hero. Just completely butchering the shit out of it. Scaring the children.

What has nine arms and sucks?

I do enjoy a bit of Thin Lizzy, but live albums in general rank low for me among this chosen lot

Wow if these guys are only the second-best band from Liverpool, I can’t wait to hear China Crisis

I still remember hearing the Cramps for the first time in the intro to Baker 3 in 2005. Completely blew my greasy little mind

Would love to see this album score a film about a 55 year old date-rapist called ‘Chive’ who gets sentenced to 30 years jail and learns absolutely nothing

Wouldn’t have pick this album was the one I get told off for playing it too loud

Does good as what it does, but what is does don’t does it for me

I have a lot of respect for this band and the approximately 200 genres they have directly influenced

Ghostface deserves four stars for highlighting the virtues of the metric system to dumb Americans

One must draw a line somewhere in these reviews. Not everything can get the benefit of historical context. Sometimes, it is perfectly acceptable to give an honest “I don’t like this at all”. This is no disrespect to those Tears for Fears enjoyers out there. The influence of lead paint would have lingered a while after the ban

Would’ve been a 3 if this was one disc. Maybe even a 4 if it was half a disc

Thrashed this when it came out. Holds up well listening again over 20 years later

Enjoyed this way more than I was expecting. Prince cover as track #3 was an especially bold move

Better than Alanis

Although Spotify has done its best to ruin them for me (“hey wanna listen to Television? Hey hey you! How about adding Television to this playlist? Do you want to discover Television or Modern Lovers today?”), this is a classic

Completely bonkers album - one I will definitely revisit

Overall still a classic, but I was fighting a vague sense of disappointment where my memories of the album were better than the reality. Kinda like visiting your parents

The I. Ron Butterfly gag in the Simpsons still brings a big dumb grin to my face whenever I hear this band, well let’s face it, song

Some appeal as music you listen to while doing something else, but not for me

YouTube charcoal bbq montage music, flame-grilled whopper music, big wielding content music, vintage garbage truck enthusiast music, competitive eating walk-on music, mid-range SUV ads at half-time music

The Four-Year-Old refers to “junkie” as “scary dandies” because he is both fascinated and terrified of the video

Didn’t realise this was so wackity. Took me three listens to even being to form an opinion on it. Ummm… pretty good?

Feels harsh because this is an influential album, but it was a painful experience listening to this in the year of our lord 2025.

Willie is such a treasure. Somehow the music lives up to the hype of personality

Packed with great tunes across different moods, styles, and levels of seriousness that the artist takes himself

Strong start, but turns into a plotting wall of sameness pretty quickly

I’m sad now

The only way I could possibly enjoy this album is if I had a friend who just loved Genesis. We would have general respect for each others' musical tastes, but Genesis would always be a point of contention. My friend would be an out-of-character superfan of the band, someone with punk roots who somehow formed this powerful connection with Peter and Phil. Our disagreements would be good natured of course, late night drinking sessions, ranting about the state of things, going song for song on the stereo. Often these sessions would end with Genesis - and I'd try, I'd really try, to get into it, but deep down I knew that this wasn't for me. Time would pass, the drinking would get less frequent and so would our catchups. I would move away to a different city. We would still talk music over whatsapp occasionally, and eventually that relationship would die too. Years later, I would find myself wandering aimlessly through the supermarket aisle - sent to pick up nappies - my head swimming from sleep deprivation caused by two children under three and a stressful career. I would look down and see my finger tapping on the shopping trolley. I look, I really look at my hand, drumming long on the sticky handle under the garish light. What’s this song? Some memory from long ago re-emerges and I recognise that “The Carpet Crawlers" is playing softly over the supermarket sound system. Then I realise, this moment, this trivial moment of daily life, is the first time I've truly been present in a long while. It brings about a revelation in me. I drive home at pace with the windows down, nappies forgotten, fingers snapping along to The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway blasting from my mid-range European station wagon out into the night air. I think of my old friend and days gone by. Though teary eyes, I regret all those wasted years, all that time spent worrying over nothing. All that time gone forever - time I could’ve spent listening to Genesis. Until that day comes, one star.

Thought this was a solid gateway into a genre/subculture I know nothing about. May have investigated further in a different stage of life

Always find these ones difficult to review. It’s a good album because of talented vocalists, slick production and nails exactly what it set out to do, but boy oh boy this is not for me

Certainly sets a mood

The dingos finally make the list. Frontier Psychiatrist was a pretty important cross-over track - infiltrating alternate guitar heavy radio stations and providing a glimpse of something more

I love a bit of the ol’ noise drenched pop

Worse than Alanis. Canada: 1 New Zealand: 0

Finally some difficult listening to freak out the Clapton loving squares. I paid iTunes money for two (2) lightning bolt albums about 1 million years ago. It expanded my horizons. I regret nothing.

Rather evil album in both tone and content. Can imagine the devil relaxing to these tunes after a hard day of cattle-prodding Kissinger’s anus

Music wasn’t completely terrible, but lost points for having the stupidest fucking name I’ve ever heard. McDipshit and the Jizz would’ve been better. It makes me sick.

The earnest delivery of “there's a midget standing tall” was the funniest moment of the 1001 album journey so far

10 tracks, 35 minutes, strong start and finish, a lot to like about this

Always found it curious that Oasis lyrics are rather bland, but their press zingers are creatively scathing and/or hilarious. “Wayne Rooney looks like a fucking balloon with Weetabix crushed on top” “Would Jesus Christ have been a pervert if he had a crisp packet on his head?” “He's rude, arrogant, intimidating and lazy. He's the angriest man you'll ever meet. He's like a man with a fork in a world of soup” Noel on Liam

Solid album one could play when entertaining grandma and her bastard (grand) children. However I don’t think an album of covers can ever reach masterpiece status

It’s somewhat poisoned unfairly by the dreadful bands that were influenced by Jane’s Addiction. Been Caught Stealing is undeniably a classic, but still, I couldn’t get into this as an album at all. Will swear on Dave Navarro’s soul patch to try again in the future

Out of my depth with this. I feel like a my opinion carries about as much weight as a Labrador’s review of Apocalypse Now. So…fine and good?

PSA: If you have a colleague who really wants to stand in the place where she works, but her request for a stand-up desk is denied by management, she may not appreciate links to “Stand” being sent to her via company email.

Really pushing the boundaries to make the safest music possible

Was strangely hesitant to review this. Needed to listen to it about 8 times to make up my mind. After all that, decided it’s a good ol’ three (3) star

Dip your toes in a little bit of sludge metal stoner rock. Go on. I dare you.

Strongly recommend getting some big headphones, putting this on, and walking round the city watching people go about their day. It’s like being transported into a movie.

There’s going to be a lot of Radiohead on this list, isn’t there? This is both deserved and annoying

Borders of relentless at times, but it certainty got me bobbing up and down like bird of paradise trying to get laid

Apart from maybe fantasy metal, prog-rock is the most hilarious of genres. The delivery of “As you twinkle by in moccasin sneeeeeeeakers” is comic gold.

Maybe I don’t like pure dumbass music as much as I thought I did? Have I grown as a person?

What a treat this was. One of those whole is greater than the sum of the parts albums. No track would really work as a single, but assembled together makes a rich experience. It’s the antidote to the soulless Spotify playlist created by machines

One hour and seven minutes of Korn is quite a lot of Korn

Opening with the best song on the album by far is an underrated move. Give the people what they came for

I respect the style, I can barely stand the substance

Found my enjoyment levels bouncing round like a yo-yo of doom on this one: really in the groove one minute, then annoyed by his warbling pronunciation the next.

ABBA is best listened to either at weddings or in greatest hits form. Two stars is a bit harsh, but the album contained too many punishing songs between the singles

Coherent album vision, nearly zero filler, and punchy 31 minute runtime. And also it’s the Beatles.

Fun fact: at 1:32 in the video for Girls & Boys a young Simon (aka The Red Wiggle) can be seen having a good time ON HOLIDAY

I have an unwritten rule that four (4) stars requires four (4) bangers. I wanna be your dog obviously counts as two (2) bangers

I put off rating this for a long time because I couldn’t shake a vague sense of unease about the album. There’s something off about it, but for the life of me I cannot articulate what that something is. Insincerity maybe? The British take on American music? Do I believe Dusty lived these experiences? Does it even matter? Probably not. After a couple of weeks of listening, I decided to ignore my vague feelings, slap four (4) stars on it, and move on.

Always tough to review albums released just before your time. Something about them always seems perpetually out of fashion, especially so with grunge. I understand its place and importance, but will likely never listen to this again

Listened to this three times and liked it more each time. No time to see if this trend continues. I need to consume this list like junkfood. Next one. NEXT ONE

We’re not here to suck farts out of dead seagulls. We’re here to rate albums. And all you pussies better recognise that this is a damn fine example of one.

The two year old went bananas for this. The Wiggles are dead to her now.

Generally enjoyed this ‘album’, but it’s not meant to be something that stands alone. The criteria for success is how the music fits with the film/story, not as a listening experience. That’s the main reason for the two (2). Is why was this included? Would you enter an hog in a dog agility contest? Doesn’t matter how nice that swine is, it’s a different beast altogether

I respect how generally annoying this is. Reminds me of seeing local bands paying for seven (7) people in dingy warehouses (in a good way)

This may be the longest 33 minute album of all time

It takes a lot of ambition to make a double-album, and even more talent to actually make it listenable. They’ve managed to pull this one off.

I remember falling to sleep listening to this when I was about 18. I woke up in some sort of daze during The National Anthem. It completely blew my mind. But then I had to admit to my Radiohead pushing friend, that maybe they were a better band than Nofx. That was tough.

The album is basically little country ditties interlaced with the most devastating lyrics in popular music. The restrained delivery really makes it for me. There’s no overdone emotion in the vocals, which can often feel contrived, like the songwriter is telling you how you should feel. He just lets the lyrics speak for themselves (if that makes any sense).

Things my younger self has said/written about Jeff Buckley: "I got nothing against Jeff Buckly, but when I want to listen to little bitch music I put on Elliot Smith instead" Edgy. “Now this is an unpopular opinion, but I don't like Jeff Buckley. I think it's because of people who dabble in music love him. For me, he's music for the hobbyist, squarely in that category of slightly-off the beaten path alt-rock like muse and U2 that sit atop of an apex of nothing but their own blandness.” Meow. “What’s he ever done expect drown and write a song about it?” Snarky. I have softened these opinions somewhat in my old age. I would now go as far as to say this is a “good” album, but an overrated one.

There are those three (3) star albums that are just ok, middle of the road. Then there are three star albums like this: a pleasure to listen to, and if discovered at a different stage in life could’ve bloomed into an all time favourite.

I worked in an office where a main project was designing a cock and balls in Alaska that could be seen from space. The night before a progress meeting on said project, I went to an Evan Dando solo show. The project manager has wanted to come to the show, but couldn’t, due to some poor life prioritisation in his part. At the start of the meeting, I told the PM the show was fine overall, but Mr Dando seemed a bit sad. The PM then spent the next 20 minutes sketching pictures of a glum Evan Dando on the whiteboard, based on my description of him. I still have the meeting minutes somewhere. The cock and balls was late and over budget, but it got built.

The flagrant disregard for copyright is legendary enough before even getting to the music

Actually enjoyed bits of this, but the long slow numbers lost me. That, and I think I hate the All Tomorrow’s Parties cover in a reeeeaaaallllyyy close to liking it kinda way

It’s always somewhat bitter-sweet reviewing albums that you thrashed in an earlier stage of life. This was still a great listen, but couldn’t quite recreate the highs of experiencing the record while young and impressionable

Still get startled by the abrupt end to Just Like Heaven after all these years

Life’s too short to give Morrissey a proper go

Whenever I encounter Led Zeppelin, I’m reminded of the cliché/post on Twitter that applies to old people and goes something like: in high school you choose either Led Zeppelin or The Clash, become a super fan for a few years, then never listen to that artist again in adulthood. I chose The Clash, but it’s impossible not to have at least a working knowledge of the only other potential avenue life had to offer. It’s undeniable that there are some all-time tracks scattered amongst this album, but I found myself looking up the length of the original release so I didn’t have to listen to the bonus material.

Beautiful way to go out. A tribute to Americana and his significant role in it

Descended into hate-listening very quickly for me. He has to be one of the most overrated musicians of all time.

I managed to push past my personal hatred of the single “Imagine” to rather enjoy the album “Imagine”. Big of me I know.

We took the four year old to rugba leegue’s greatest rivalry: State of Origin. State vs state, mate vs mate. It got a bit loud for him, and I had brought noise cancelling headphones just incase. I asked him what he wanted to listen to, and without hesitation he said Michael Jackson. He sat there for the second half and listened to Thriller in its entirety.

My mother has a sick obsession with Christmas carols. This year, I came prepared with a peace offering of 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' by the Vince Guaraldi Trio. It is an excellent wee record, and I had high hopes that it would appease her. It lasted about 30 seconds before it was taken off with force. Little Drummer Boy was then put on. Little Drummer Boy was then restarted half way through because "isn't this a good one?". Little Drummer Boy was then turned up. I went outside with the mosquitoes. Next year, I will try this one. Because if anyone can understand the true meaning of family Christmas, it’s a murderer.

Some great tunes, but was thoroughly confused by the version on Spotify. How long was the album meant to be? How many versions of Summer Breeze were intended? Four seems excessive

I think that it took me six weeks to listen to this in its entirety tells the story. I had to restart after: falling asleep (x3), headphones dying, a sudden need to stop listening and vacuum the house, lunch time, and one time I just got bored and wandered off.

In just my last review I was shitting on Jeff Beck and his guitar wank. This is guitar wank done right.

One of the most terrifying albums ever to reach no. 1

Ever heard the theory that Elvis Costello and Lenny Kravitz have the exact same voice? You have now

The true strength of this album is the ‘minor’ tracks - Territorial Pissings, Lounge Act, Stay Away. Also it has amazing appeal across demographics. Meathead thugs love it, music wankers love it, accountants love it. It’s done more for unity than any happy happy joy joy initiative every has.

A few of my stoner friends were big into this album. I couldn’t get into it, still can’t. Also lost a point for the truely atrocious album cover.

Always nice to push the average rating down guilt free

One of the benefits of this exercise is reclaiming the good ol’ three (3) star. Feedback in the modern world seems to be binary - either a gushing five (5) star or it’s worse than hogshit. The humble three (3) to me now means “that was pretty good. I enjoyed it”

They just seem to be reaching for weirdness to the point where I thought “I bet their parents have Wikipedia pages”. Turns out they don’t, but two (2) stars for you anyway.

Billy gets a lot of play in our house because the children love it. The children also love pouring sand down their pants and chewing on gravel so what do they know?

I remember thinking this was the worst of their albums when this came out. It seemed too polished, all the edges knocked off for easier swallowing by the masses. It’s still not a terrible album by any means, but I stand by that initial assessment.

As a child, I remember being vaguely terrified of a massive poster of this album in the local music store. Who were these people with the haircuts? Why were they sad? What did those massive red and black words mean? I didn’t want to know. A decade or so later, I finally bought the CD and have been listening to it ever since. Masterpiece.

Goddamn albums 100-150 have been exceptionally good. I wonder what Canadian treasure I’ll have to take it out on to get my rating average down?

Easiest five (5) star so far

There was a brief time when all we listened to was Death from Above 1979. While reading through the liner notes, one of the reasons for the ‘1979’ was this was the year The Pleasure Principle was released. At this, my friend triumphantly yelled “Ha - I knew someone else liked that album”. Then there was a brief time when we all listened to Death from Above 1979 and Gary Numan.

Most things Can related put a big dumb smile on my face, and this was no exception. Definitely will listen again

Sometimes I feel that this list is based around the premise that this genre, and possibly even this album, is the pinnacle of all music. It’s fine and good and all, but it’s interesting that over the last decade or so that the boomer rock genre has completely lost all cultural relevance after what was effectively a four decade monoculture.

First and last time I’ll be listening to that

How I yearn for that 4.5 button sometimes. I’ve flipped a coin and it’s into the four (4) bucket you go with a bunch of other beloved albums and a few mistakes. Sounds like a recipe for a happy family.

I have a soft spot for this album for two reasons: 1) I physically owned the thing in CD which seems like a completely antiquated concept now, and 2) it introduced me to Os Mutantes via their cover of A Minha Menina

When starting this godforsaken project I had a think about what albums would be guaranteed, no question, perfect fives. This was one of them. Thoroughly enjoyed the re-listen too.

I quite liked this stupid little gothy album. I wanted to pat it on the head and give it a biscuit.

I don’t have a lot of time for guitar wank, and leaving Hi Ho Silver Lining to last irrationally annoyed me

Yep, yeah, yep … I know … I hear what you’re saying … Canadian treasure, sure, I mean she even drew a map … I understand but … but her voice doesn’t … ok, yep, no … yes, dear, you’re right … I think it’s pronounced be-love-ED … okokok … sure … but three (3) stars isn’t bad? … plebiscite? Like an election?

Big guitar starts coming and it don’t stop coming. Definitely better than Jeff Beck, but I didn’t dig it as much as Floyd so three (3) it is. Let’s move on

Probably should’ve rated Wish You Were Here higher in hindsight

Well that was quite the ride. I was getting ready to put on my chinos and snap my fingers to some soft rock, but somehow got blasted with funk and a track dedicated to noise. Bravo.

Two observations: 1) The Pretenders music has aged well. This still sounds great in 2026. 2) I love albums that aren’t built around singles. Brass in Pocket and Kid are tucked into the back half almost as an afterthought. There’s a coherency to the record, never a sense of filler/killing time until the bangers.

It what could only be some intern’s stand against The Broadcasting Standards Authority, the uncensored version of Stagger Lee was played on New Zealand state television at approximately 11 am on a Sunday. The year was 1996 or 1997. I was 11, my brothers were 9 and 7. Morning cartoons had just ended, and now, suddenly, we were watching a tale of murder and sexual depravity told with the worst swearing we’d ever heard on mass broadcast media. Oh that glorious swearing. Something close to righteous joy washed over us to the equal parts horror and amusement of our father. We yelled “Mr Motherfucker do you know who I am?” and kicked over the coffee table. We fired finger guns and counted the holes in our motherfucking heads. We lined up the stuffed animals to search for fat boy’s assholes. We hollered and beat the ground like those apes at the start of Space Odyssey. It was bedlam. Looking back, there was a valuable lesson on censorship. It’s not the words themselves that ‘they’ aim to stop, under the premise of moral purity or what have you. It’s that spirit of mayhem that must be suppressed at all costs. Link Wray knew that. There’s a riot closer to the surface that we think.

Quite surprised this was included because a) it’s essentially a covers album, b) I’m sure we’re in for a lot of other Rolling Stones albums here so it’s not like they’re underrepresented. I’m not quite convinced implementing a one album per artist cap for the list, but this pushed me in that direction. Maybe a three album limit would be a reasonable compromise.

iiiiiiiisssss this a shit sandwich?

I’ve got no real beef with Paul Simon, but I feel I could’ve died quite happily without ever listening to his sixth solo studio album

Probably would serve its purpose well as background cafe music, but the high-points just felt like theft of classics without adding much to them

Did you see Basement Jaxx in the boiler room, brah? Fully sick aye. Fckn nuts brah. See ya in Environmental Law 201 next week brah.

Still remember one time in the pub when I casually mentioned Tom Petty, might be, maybe, potentially overrated. My friend then proceeded to name thirty (30) Tom Petty bangers off the top of his head. Ever since then, I’ve been in awe of the man (Tom and my friend a take your pick).

Might have been a fiver if I listened to this in a better mood. But cranky I was, and Bridge and Frank Lloyd Wright both quite taxing listens

Thoroughly enjoyable three star experience

Will come back to this, but the 2025 version of myself couldn’t get into it. Admittedly, this is a 3 star version of myself.

The Strokes are in that perfect cultural nadir - lost all modern relevance, but not yet old enough to have any retro appeal. That being said, I’ve had some great times listening to this album, and I still remember hearing Last Nite for the first time and getting my little socks blown off. This album is good enough to stand the test of time. They’ll be back.

Glad to experience this one - certainly anchored to a time and place. Would be proud to add this record to the collection.

The beat of a meatball, the beat of a meatball. Ahhhhhhaaaaahhhhhhhhhh Thought this track along with some genuinely hilarious moments (how many middle fingers does he have? How many does he want?) would lead to a higher score. I guess not.

Well that was pretty good aye

The back half of that was tough work. The delivery was so sincere it was indistinguishable from parody

This is probably the yazz album I am most familiar with. Playing it this time, I was curious as to how the 2 and 4 year olds would react. Would they dig it? There wasn’t much feedback from them in the end, but I believe they played with their blocks faster, with more intensity and focus.

File this one under: nails what it aims for, but just not for me at all

Had to resort to a relative ratings for this. Would I rather listen to Alanis (2 stars) or this? Alanis is answer. Would I rather listen to Mr Manson (1 star) or this? Mr Manson is the answer. Since I am not a man, but a robot who values consistency over all else, a one (1) star this has to be.

Always loved the story of his quest to track down recording equipment used by the Beatles, after a huge struggle finally getting it, then having a mental breakdown because someone cleaned all the dust off it and therefore ruining it. It’s like a fable on man’s hubris in trying to capture the past.

If it were up to me, 63% of this list would be albums like this. Just the most fucked up music you’ve ever heard from countries that no longer exist with straight-up awesome album covers. Music that will drive you insane if you play it too loud or too long. Bravo.

In a convoluted move, although I think this is a better album than More Specials, I am going to score it lower because I think they both should be 3.5 stars. 165 albums in and I have officially begun to tie myself in knots.

Took me a while to rate this one & I kept coming back to it. Highly enjoyed the general crunchiness (for lack of a better word).

I’ve tried and tried to like this band, but they just don’t do it for me. It’s not you, it’s me.

During a 2 am drunken fish and chip order, friend of mine requested his chips be seasoned with “so much chicken salt, that when I eat them I go ‘whoa, that is way too much chicken salt’”. His wish was granted, and he had to throw his order in the bin because it was completely inedible. I thought of this story while listening to this. I imagined lining up at the funk store to order an album with so much funk, it becomes unlistenable.

A few high points here for sure, but way too long overall. I was also surprised at how bored I was. The genre should be smacking you round and demanding attention, not fading into the background while I write my little reports in an open plan office.

Hey Ah-Ha, the 80s called and wants its music back!” “Hello, 1980s? This is Ah-Ha speaking. I’m returning your call regarding the music?” “Ah-Ha! Yes, thank you for getting back to me. This is all rather embarrassing. Well, frankly I had a bit too much to drink last night, and I was in a mood of reminisce. I thought of you and how it pains me that we have lost touch. And, well, I wanted you to know how much I value your contribution, your place in it all. I wouldn’t be here without you. Maybe this is too little too late, but please, accept the sincere gratitude of an old, sentimental fool.” “It’s all water under the bridge, 1980s. I truely appreciate your kind words.” Four days later, TMZ reported that the 1980s was found dead in its LA mansion, surrounded by empty bottles of drano.

I wonder what percentage of people who take the Nirvana-Meat Puppets II expressway end up saying “what the fuck is this? This is dogshit” 73.1% is my guess

R.E.M is one of those bands that I respect, but will never love. They’re the opposite of your mum.

Enjoyable three star - had the two year old and the four year old bopping along at the dinner table

Didn’t hate this by any means, but I’m too old to listen to two hours of drummo. It’s world music and jazz for me from here on in. Sweet, sweet world music and jazz.

So important you can go through life without ever playing it yourself, and still know every track

Listening experience went: holy shit - this might actually be good, ok this is just fine, I would quite like this to end now, it’s still going, I could be watching Heat right now.

I’ve found a few albums through this process that I can’t bring myself to rate straight away. And 9 times out of 12, I end up listening multiple times and giving them three stars anyway. There’s no real theme - the cure, killing joke, dusty springfield, this one. The closest common denominator is some kind of subconscious nudge that if I was exposed to this album at an earlier stage of life, I would fckn love it.

A guy in my cricket team was a Metallica super-fan. When they announced their first New Zealand show, I asked him what he’d pay to go. “About a kidney” was the answer.

Firstly, this still sounds amazing. Secondly, I have about five life anecdotes revolving around Venus in Furs & I want to write them down so I won’t forget. J using it as teaching material in Chinese kindergarten, crazy French guy singing it constantly at the office, meeting an actual guy call Severin and just having to say his name twice, Arto’s part. That was about five.

This was the perfect band, and maybe even the perfect album, to make that classic Onion bit work.

Not my cup of tea. Pushed me further away from the genre as a whole if anything.

“Is ‘Float On’ on this album?” I said to myself, unintentionally insulting the whole chipper indie scene.

You know how both jogging and cocaine raise your heart rate, but only one is good for you? This record sure got my blood pumping, but in the form of an anxiety attack/general sense of dread. I lost hope for the future. I hadn’t felt that horrid since Steve Irwin died. Three stars.

When I heard Lou Reed died, I put on Sister Ray at full noise on the shittiest Bluetooth speaker on the planet. Over the course of 17 minutes, the speaker rattled apart on the kitchen bench and became a dancing pile of screws and wires and plastic pieces. It somehow made noise until the end of the song, then it stopped forever.

Overrated single, underrated album

Imagine studying for decades on how to blow through a formed piece of brass to make sounds and then figuring out new ways those sounds fit together. Then imagine getting a group of mates, who hit stuff and pluck big strings and do drugs, and make that collective racket fit together in even more ways. Then imagine showing up at a recording studio and basically wing it using all this collective knowledge to make a recording that included a poem to god. And then imagine other humans listening to that recording, and imagine your music altering their souls. Magic. Then imagine some little asshole on the internet giving you four (4) stars 60 years later.

A good friend of mine once said “there would be no Sonics without Nirvana”. This was both the stupidest and most profound thing to ever leave his lips.

‘Twas long, ‘twas fine. A record for playing a little too loud while you get your hair cut.

I was a massive fan of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I tracked down physical copies of their EPs, which I have since lost. I even burned them to mini-disc, a technology that is somehow more antiquated than EPs themselves. The mini-disc is also lost. Lost things are not the point. The point is I liked their music enough to spend money and time to put it in my ears. So even though you can draw a line from Fever to Tell, straight through Show Your Bones and get to It’s Blitz, it was here where I stopped listening. I was quite mature about it. There were no angry gamer proclamations such as METALLICA’S GONE SOFT. PLAY THE OLDER STUFF. I just thought, ‘Well, this is no longer for me. Good on them for trying something new. All the best.’ Listening again after a long time, I still don’t love this album. But it’s so much better than trying to make the same garage rock thing again and again. More of the same, but worse is how bands truly die. Experiments in dance-pop are an admirable thing. Onwards.

Judge the album on its merits? No. I hate U2. I want to put The Edge in an egg cup and smash his little beanie thing with a giant spoon.

‘Cause when I smoke out, I hit the trees harder than Sonny Bono (oh no). This line saved it from a one (1) star.

As a fan of obnoxious/annoying music, I enjoy The Fall. Some great tracks here, but too long and too many clankers to score high as an album.

Sounded like an album from a band still finding their feet. The production suited the more thrash/punky tracks, but not so much the prog/safe metal numbers

Thought I was going to hate this, but enough big songwriting names and Cale madness to get it across the line

I listened to Jurassic 5 in high school/university. I went to their show. I bought a t-shirt. I wore the t-shirt a lot. But now, I get hit with this huge rush of embarrassment when I hear them. I understand that this is shouldn’t be. I understand people grow and tastes change and the cringe is a sign of development. I know this. I still feel embarrassed. A guilty pleasure is something you love that has no cultural capital. This feels like an anti-guilty pleasure: something that you went along with for cultural capital, but never really loved. Or am I being revisionist? I did by a t-shirt. Did I love this? Shit I don’t know. This is already too much analysis for one album, too many delicate little man feelings posted on the internet for one guy and his son to read.  So I just stopped all the hand wringing and played it. The kids liked it. They started dancing. I still knew a lot of the words. That’s a good record, right? That’s a good time, right? Right?

This is some puerile, offensive, intimidating, lowest common denominator music, but it’s such a ball-licking fun listen.

Listening to this album made me remember a review I wrote of a Dinosaur Jr gig I attended in 2010. I found the laptop containing the file, laptop would not turn on. $35 dollars on a charging cable later, I found my review. The review read: [REDACTED - PSA - DO NOT READ ANYTHING YOU WROTE IN YOUR EARLY 20s EVER]

If it’s any consolation, of all the one stars I probably hate this one the least.

I was booing so hard through this it made me look up Statler and Waldorf quotes: Statler: Do you believe in life after death? Waldorf: Every time I leave this theater. Statler: Can you sing tenor? Waldorf: What? Statler: Can you sing tenor, as in ten or eleven miles away from here. Statler: Hey, they weren’t half-bad Waldorf: Yea they were all bad HohohoHahahaHohoho

Quite poignant how short/punchy this album is. Leaves you wanting more.

The opening snare alone deserves five stars

That man sure knew how to open and close an album.

I want to do a controlled scientific study on if listening to music like this makes me write my little reports faster. Speed, not accuracy is the key variable.

Something I think about a lot is Andre Agassi, and how he had that glorious mane of flowing hair. I still remember the cover of Andre Agassi Tennis video game on sega mega drive - he was mid-forehand follow through, the hair was puffed up like a furry caterpillar. It was glorious. Well turns out that the hair wasn’t real. It was a wig. And that wig caused him huge meth-fuelled anxiety to the point where he was more concerned about it flying off than winning the French Open. My theory is The Edge is like this, but in reverse. Underneath that little skull cap thing, he actually has amazing hair like David Lynch (rip). But he believes that the skull cap is the source of his powers, the delay behind his real average riffs. The weight of this would be immense. And if he was in any other band, I would like to give him a hug and tell him that it’s ok. There, there. It’s ok, Mr Edge. You don’t need to put that thing on your head anymore.

Such riotous energy flowing from this one. Made me want to leave work and go to the pub.

Thought this was an auto-five, but my project partner’s write-up gave me pause. I did have to put in a lot of effort to love this album. It did not come naturally. If the 1001 was my first exposure to this, I may have given it one spin, assigned a dismissive three, then moved on. But there is joy in repetition, and I feel this one still has decades and decades of life left in it for me. And that has to be the definition of a classic.

This is the modern (a.k.a 30 years ago) Dylan album I am least familiar with. Went well on a Sunday afternoon while scrubbing dishes. May come back to it, may not. Life is relentless.

The Spotify algorithm has to be this band’s biggest fan.

The two year old started dancing frantically to this while saying “I don’t like this music! I don’t like this music!”. No escaping the number of the beast

Thought this was fine, but zero skateboard videos using “kick, push” is a bit of an indictment

Whenever I hear PJ Harvey, I say “I quite like this. I should listen to more PJ Harvey”. Then I never do.

Nails the genre, but I am not much of a fan of the genre. So all considered four stars is pretty good.

The Police, both the band and the weaponised arm of government, are appealing more and more to me as I age and accumulate assets.

Had some high points, had some other points that had Christmas music energy.

We had a friend who loved Megadeth and he got teased. “Not normal death, not big death, it’s Mega Death. Death that is MEGA”. It was funnier at the time. The joke needs lots of repetition and about 10 people joining in to work. Anyway, I actually think this album goes pretty hard. Not Mega hard, but pretty hard.

Everyone has a genre they just cannot stand, and this (80s soft rock?) is mine. I know people love it, but I cannot understand why. It’s like being passionately obsessed with aluminium or a Mazda CX5. Although Sledgehammer kinda rules so it scores as high as possible given the genre.

The meanest piece of music criticism I’ve ever heard was someone describing the Travelling Wilburys as “four geniuses and Tom Petty”. If you’re going to single anybody out, it’s gotta be Jeff Lynne.

I was about to get surgery on my hand as a result of a sandwich-related accident. It was just a local anaesthetic. My arm had a tourniquet above the elbow and was strapped down to the table. The surgeon entered. “So just a local?” I assumed he was talking to me. The tone was vaguely judgemental, as if I was responsible for the whole thing. Which to be fair, I was, between me and the sandwich. “Ah, yeah,” I said. “I’ve never had general anaesthetic and the concept makes me nervous, so I’m pretty glad.” “The concept?” “Yeah.” “Well, I’m not.” “Not what?” “Not glad. The ‘concept’ of general anaesthetic prevents conversations like these. Why are you so sweaty?” Also a fair observation. I was in a gown and lying on a bed lined with what felt like paper. Both materials felt like they were about to dissolve under my back sweat. “I’m nervous, I guess.” “Well, stop it. Stop being nervous and stop being sweaty.” He sighed. “I’m going to put on some music.” He walked out of sight to the corner of the room and pushed play on what sounded like an iPhone in a cereal bowl. He sat down and started pulling on my hand. I couldn’t feel anything other than a vague sense of pressure. “What’s this song?” I asked. He stopped what he was doing. I heard the clatter of the scalpel on the table. “Adele.” He said. “Ah. Day. El. The most popular artist in the world.” “OK, it’s not really my cup of…” “Would. You. Please. Stop. Sweating.” This was the first time I listened to Adele: strapped down to a table getting my hand cut open by a belligerent surgeon and trying not to sweat. Towards the end of the album, the operation was complete, and he removed the tourniquet. It unleashed this wave of the most intense pins and needles I’ve ever experienced. It felt like pure electricity running down my cold sausage of an arm. The surgeon picked up my lifeless arm, wiggled it a couple of times, then dropped it with a thud. He walked out without another word, with Adele still warbling away from the bowl in the corner. The second time I listened to Adele was today. I’m unsure which was the more painful experience.

This one just landed way too close to ELO (two albums ago, which I am still processing). All my tolerance for upbeat happy happy joy joy chipper music has gone. It made me want to jump out of the first floor window and mildly graze my knee.

My mother is indifferent to most music, but she cannot stand AC/DC. “No more of that horrible little screeching man! Turn it off!”

Poor man’s Interpol

This could be condensed into a ten song masterpiece of a record. Ten is the scientifically proven optimum listening experience after all. However, if bloated it be, one must give it a three.

The list seems to be throwing out a lot of middling albums lately and/or stuff that I had no previous emotional bond. In this context, boy oh boy was this one a breath of fresh air. I don’t think I’ve listened to London Calling in its entirety since I was an impressionable teen. I’ve now listened to it five times in 24 hours. It put a bit of spark back into the project. More. MORE. MORE!

Had a wholesome moment in the barber where they played this album and everyone started to sing along. I’m old now, but I was so glad to see this was still a right of passage album for the youff.

Pretty much all Michael Jackson album titles are hilarious in hindsight. “Bad”. “Dangerous”. That’s right.

Impossible to say for sure obviously, but I think this would still be a great record even if he didn’t kill himself

Not sure the Crazy Horse element does much for me. It made me want to revisit Tonight’s the Night. I feel like I didn’t appreciate that album at the time and it deserves more attention.

Overall felt rather samey and forgettable. Not that I’ll give it the chance, but this does not strike me as something that gets better over repeated listens.

Without this list, I don’t think I would’ve ever listened to this album in my life. I gave it a couple of spins. I will play it again while cleaning the house. It restored a bit of faith in this whole project.

As far as original soundtracks go, this is all-time. As far as albums go, this is enjoyable without being mind-blowing

I listened to this album a lot in France and then again in Mongolia. This doesn’t matter to anyone but me, but then you could say that about 38 out of 43 things ever written (and 42 out of 43 things written on this website). Anyway I still enjoy it. Closer to a five than a three.

Honestly I’m getting so jaded by the amount of 70s/80s normcore on this list that the mental breakdown exploitation record sounded quite refreshing

I put this one off for a while, thinking it would be something I would despise. But I’ll admit it, I bopped along. I tapped my foot under the desk as a wrote my little reports. I felt good inside.

I was in such a terrible mood when I put this on. I was stomping round the house, all puffed up like a duck. Stevie will make me fell better, I thought. Stevie will make it all ok. In fact, Stevie did not make it all ok. The album imploded like that titanic submarine under these colossal expectations. Woomf.

I had a fantastic introduction to The Who via our third form English teacher. He played it loud to the whole class while explaining the raw subversion of “why don’t you all go and fffff…..fade away”. Apparently even threatening to swear over mass broadcast media caused quite the fuss. My opinion of the who has pretty much been on a downward slide since these lofty heights. I like this album and love this song, but at best they reminded me of stuff I’d rather be listening to. I’m off to put on the kinks.

How did Eno make a Dunedin Sound album? I’d never heard this before but it sounds so familiar.

Their best work and outstanding hits/track ratio. Something is holding me back from awarding the five however. Over play? Too Boomer? I don’t want a physical copy? Just vibes? I don’t know & I’m not sure I care.

Much like anal sex, one must really be in the mood to enjoy Joni Mitchell. Being ordered to engage in such activities by random generator will never quite hit the spot.

For lack of a better word, there was something unsettlingly “American” about this album. It created too much dissonance in my mind to really get into it.

I have this friend who has almost anti-taste. His favourite movie is that Spartan thing 300. Four years in a row, he made his girlfriend watch this film with him in bed on the morning of his birthday. It was his present. He likes paintings that look like things. Indigenous art, as he once said to a gallery curator, is “yuuuuuucccckkk”. His favourite food is either KFC (referred to simply as “skin”) or McDonalds, where he was partial to an ‘FC top-up combo’, which was a cheeseburger and a sundae to wash down whatever else he ordered. FC stood for Fat Cunt. He embraced all of the above with an unabashed passion. As a wanker in my early 20s, I admired this. This barometer for the basic also worked the other way. You could learn a lot from what he hated. For example, The Shining was the worst film he has ever seen. The Great Gatsby was boring as shit. And, most importantly, he couldn’t fucking stand Tom Waits.

I struggle with popular bands from my own generation. Bands like the White Stripes, Kings of Leon, Black Keys, Arctic Monkeys, Green Day (early works aside) are all in this bucket. I think these are “good” bands, but I can never quite love them (as I type this, I realise the White Stripes are probably a cut above the aforementioned artists). I think this has to do with how we’d consume music. You used to purchase a CD, for the equivalent of $125 in 2026 dollars, then you’d go away and listen to it. Listen to it a lot, in fact, otherwise you were a sucker who wasted their money. Then if you actually liked it, you’d play it at parties and burn copies for your mates and try and get them to love it as much as you did. And if you were lucky, your friends would do the same to you. This is the way I have discovered my favourite artists of all time and cemented favourite friendships of all time. The other way of consuming music was listening to the radio. This is where the big bands come into my life. People played them at parties, but without the “hey, you gotta check out these guys!” speeches. It felt less intimate, more transient. And once exposed to something via this channel, retreating with the headphones to digest the album just never happened. I guess this is why the before-your-time classics are immune from this general feeling of unease - there was still the element of the hunt. Anyway, I like this album. I think it’s good.

I get the Doors hate, I really do. But there’s a difference between disliking the Catholic Church and being molested by them. Jim Morrison never touched my butthole, so I don’t have to think about him that often.

I love this evil little album

Some of the lesser known cliches about New Zealanders are that we love station wagons, Tool, and of course Creedence Clearwater Revival. My grandma used to just blast Creedence any chance she’d get. Big nostalgia hit on this one.

Scratching my brain for a hypothetical situation where I would ever put this music on again. Umm? Trying to bond with my future Chinese mother in law who speaks no English while we sit in silence in the shared cabin of a cruise ship passing round the Cape of Good Hope

Not my thing at all. I didn’t actively hate it is the only real feedback I can give. It did make me wonder about Alanis. Have I been unfair to Alanis?

Found myself rather relaxed by this at times. Something about the primal rhythm matching with my resting heart rate in the air conditioned office. The periodic bashing and screeching took me out of this state obviously, but this is the stuff, the difficult listening, the outsider music, that makes the project all worthwhile.

Overall enjoyable listen. The album keeps you on your toes. Just when you find yourself losing interest, then that’s when the funk and guitars kick in.

Most friend groups have a fairly unified taste in music, with a few outliers here and there. For us, Wilco was one of these points of controversy. Some think Tweedy is a genius who deserves the legacy of Bob Dylan, others (my brother) belong to the more quietly devastating school of thought that “Wilco sucks”. I’m currently somewhere in the middle, and I’m sure I will explore this further as the list progresses. As for this ambitious concept album, I thought it actually worked rather well. Exceeded my expectations, but Spotify was no help to the cause by recommending “California Stars” to me relentlessly for years, like a total pest.

Two stars, Lowell, two! That’s insane.

Mr Simon makes considered albums. There’s not usually a great distance between the strongest and weakest tracks on his records. I feel this one comes closest to the single-filler-filler-filler-single model: the model of lesser entertainers, of cheap showmen, of people who cannot edit their own work. The model of cowards who refuse to face the truth.

Definitely not something to be taken too seriously & I admired the general energy. However the stank of god awful bands that were influenced by this hangs heavy.

The KLF present a reverse art vs artist problem: love the artist, the art only so-so. I have nothing but respect for their antics, chaos, and constant reinvention of themselves. But stadium house is not for me. Also as a footnote, the two year old’s favourite song is Doctorin’ the Tardis. She charges round the house signing “Dr Doooooo-oooo. Hey! Dr Doo.” She thinks Dr Do wrote Green Eggs and Ham.

His voice sounds like he’s about to be Me Too’ed

Why did they blow up his house too? Was that necessary?

On of my (many) regrets of this project has been giving Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes three stars. Should’ve been two! I said to myself for weeks afterwards, while radiating weird vibes that made the other people in the elevator uncomfortable. Although I enjoyed this album more, I give it two in an attempt to right the wrongs of the past.

Maybe as an unintended consequence of Creedence being extremely popular in NZ, this bunch is less so. As such, I am somewhat protected from the dreaded overplay and also the cultural stank of southern pride etc etc etc. Musically it’s fine, but I’d still rather be listening to Creedence.

We listened to this in the car while driving down for a family long weekend. Started with promise, chats around parental interest in Annie Lennox, both wondering how many tracks we’d recognise through passive exposure. Well it turns out hardly any because the album just faded into the background without really sitting right. It became a vaguely annoying background hum.

I remember these guys being a name you’d hear on a festival lineup or some hype new music list or simply playing over speakers while you were waiting in a queue. But to this day, I have never met a human in real life who is a fan of this band.

Was an interesting couple of listens. I still don’t really know what to think of it. My general impression is that they made this record for themselves and intended to please no one. I respect that.

You can’t help but respect the general ridiculousness of it all. The album cover is a someone on a motorbike bursting out of hell. The music was written for a futuristic rock version of Peter Pan. The guy’s name is Meat Loaf. The album is one of the best selling albums of all time. The guy (Meat Loaf) was there in a Dallas hospital with JFK. It’s nuts. It’s mind boggling that this exists. Generations of people adoring this record is nothing short of a miracle.

I still remember when I found out The Rolling Stones were British. What do you mean?! I cried. They make American music! They make the most American music possible! I cried again. It was horrible. It was like finding out about Andre Agassi’s wig all over again.

I’m behind so I’m going to drunkenly review a bunch of albums #5. The loudness is undeniably great. Probably scores as high as a live album can for me (a genre I just decided I hate)

The Band will always be Robin to Bob Dylan’s Batman. And no one really loves Robin. There will be no gritty Robin origin story starring, I don’t know, that guy from Reacher? Robin Halloween costumes will not fly off the shelves, and he will never have mass appeal beyond cuckoldry aficionados. But little Robin does have a soul. He has a rich inner world filled with big man feelings, and if he put his mind to it, I’m sure Robin could compose a beautiful little soft rock album like this one.

I always feel a little bit embarrassed listening to the foo fighters. I even looked over my shoulder & double-checked the Bluetooth headphones were properly connected before pushing play. Big Me and whatever the first track is called are good tunes, the rest just feels a bit uninspiring

I’ve harped on about nz cliches in these little posts, but there is no truer Canadian cliche than the lot of them absolutely fucking loving Rush. I say this more from a place of bafflement than judgement, as Rush’s influence seems confined to North America. I’ll give you an example. I was flying into Toronto with a Canadian colleague. As we were landing, he stopped me mid conversation and said, “sorry, I just have to do this”. He pulled out his iPod, crammed some earphones in, and put on Rush YYZ. “The beat…” he said too loudly while air drumming “… is Morse code for Toronto airport.” I willed the plane to crash then and there. I yearned to become an inferno on the frozen runway.

I’m not sure how much of this we’re meant to listen to, but I cannot abide nearly five hours of Simple Minds. I simply cannot do it.

I think I have no grown enough as a person to give this a proper go. I actually thought the kids would be rather pumped on this, but the just wandered off. So what do I think? When it comes down to it, we are here to rate albums. And a couple of massive singles an album does not make.

We have noted across several reviews that music circa 2010 has generally not aged well. This may be a product of human nature, rather than the music itself. It could be some sort of built-in progress driver at work, when we have a desire to flee from the recent past towards the creation of the new. I bet there are a few albums in this bracket that are tedious listens in 2026, but will reemerge as classics in 2040. Anyway, for me, Deerhunter is mostly immune to this pointless, speculative analysis because I like listening to their records right now. This is the end of my semi-coherent hot-take.

Birds sing. There’s not a cloud in the sky. August 8th is a beautiful day. I see a bunch of hippies crying. Yeah August 8th is a beautiful day.

There’s an old Futurama joke where the robot devil announces “Your lyrics lack subtlety! You can't just have your characters announce how they feel! That makes me feel angry!” The War on Drugs are constantly telling you exactly how to feel. The vocal delivery, the instrumentation, the lyrics (I assume - I can’t remember any) - everything points in the same direction. It’s all saying “we are trying really hard to make an album that moves you deeply”. Great art requires dissonance, a balance between tragedy and comedy. Without that tension, you’re left with mealy emotional mush with the staying power of a ‘happy anniversary’ card from the supermarket.

It really does sound like “radio birdman up above”. You can’t unhear it. Sentimental bonus star for I was gifted a copy of this album for my 21st birthday.

Overall an extremely slick and well produced album. Those babies on the cover are in their seventh decade, but the music remains as fresh as a daisy

Very much one of those albums that I respect the hell out of, but can be trying at times in terms of a pure listening experience. No doubts about its status as a must hear however.

There’s an old saying that punks are nice people who dress up to look mean, while hippies are mean people who dress up to look nice. This thought, plus various musings on backpackers and my former role as one, meant Clandestino had a lot of prejudice to overcome. I mean look at the album cover for Christ’s sake. So. Did it win me over? No. Did I hate it? Also no. Sounds like a mostly harmless three stars and move on to me.

I saw this warm-up band once and they sounded exactly like Gang of Four - both in terms of vocal delivery and musical content. I ended up talking to the singer after the show and mentioned this, and he said “you’re the second person who’s said that tonight! I’ve never heard of Gang of Four. I’m going to check them out when I get home.” He said this with the earnest enthusiasm of a golden retriever, so I don’t think I was being trolled. But the alternative is this band recreated the sound of Gang of Four from first principles in 2017, which is getting into monkey and typewriter levels of probability. So maybe I just offended him greatly. Honourable mentions for Daniel Shimizu’s part in That’s Life & how the song Anthrax gets stuck in my head whenever I see a beetle.

I’m quite intimidated by Miles Davis. I don’t know if I give him my stars willingly or he takes them by force.

I like The Fall. I do. However listening to entire Fall albums in the air conditioned office while writing my little reports can be a bit much.

About 400 years ago, I remember having a playlist challenge with colleagues using the Grooveshark platform (RIP). We had to put together ten songs, with one of them being an outlier for reasons only known to the creator. Then we had to go to the pub and give a speech about it or write a short story about it or something. These details are hazy. Anyway, my outlier was Ant Music. When I gave my little speech at the pub and asked the participants to guess the outlier, the mostly Gen-X group immediately identified Ant Music because “that song sucks.” I was too young, supple, and naive to have any stigma attached to Adam Ant. I had zero context for him, and I just thought the beat ruled. I think it still does. Listening to the whole album for the first time today, it’s very hit and miss, but I admire how generally hectic it is.

My father is a big fan of John Lee Hooker, and we listened to a lot of his records growing up. This preface is more to say that this two-star review has no reflection on Mr Hooker himself. If anyone deserves a “get paid” album, it’s him (or Bo Diddley). I direct the two stars more towards Santana. I feel he is to blame. The album improved with distance from his input.

I’ve never been further than dabbling with Zappa. This was the best experience I’ve had so far, and I will return to this album.

A long time ago, we had a ‘Band of the Month’ in the flat. The concept was pretty self-explanatory: you could only listen to one artist for an entire month. We had a tracking spreadsheet and everything. The honourees were Springsteen, Sigur Rós, DJ Shadow, and then we decided it was a terrible idea and abandoned the project entirely. Anyway, my month of non-stop exposure to DJ Shadow brings back more painful memories than joy. To be fair to Mr Shadow, this is a ridiculous way to listen to music, and I only have myself to blame for the bad times. We must accept the consequences of the choices we make in life.

I’m behind so I’m going to drunkenly review a bunch of albums #4. This list has such a hard-on for a particular style of hip-hop: Common, Jurassic 5, Pharcyde, Lupe Fiasco, Q-Tip, De La Soul to name a few. I could make a low hanging skin colour joke here but I’m not going to. This is top tier of this bracket.

I’m behind so I’m going to drunkenly review a bunch of albums #1. I like this album. It’s probably my favourite Beatles album. But have I ever listening to it with my friends? Has this ever been the soundtrack to good times? No. It’s edgy children’s music

This was not a dislike two star, more like a not my thing two star. Although I would like to sit down and have a cup of tea with someone who considers this a five star. Why? What makes you tick? Why is this a face melting record? Goddamn it, I’m going to have to by the book now aren’t I?

Turns out I quite like Brian Eno. Who knew?

There are moments of brilliance here: the intimidating snarl from lived experience, making Lennon tolerable, the most confrontational song on infidelity ever recorded. I will revisit. However, I must correct the record set by my Project Partner. It was a Martha Wainwright track that he put on consecutive sets, not Marianne. It was the other one with the swearing.

I’m behind so I’m going to drunkenly review a bunch of albums #2. Oh look, another best of list where everyone clasps their hands and gushes over Pet Sounds. It’s good but it means nothing to me.

I’m behind so I’m going to drunkenly review a bunch of albums #3. I actually thought this was fckn sick, carries the energy my ideal live album (live albums are awful)

Incredible album cover and opening track, but the rest kinda faded away

Overall, I’m quite gay for spiritualized, but I’ve never given this record much time. The truely atrocious album cover was a big barrier to entry. The listen, however, was good times in both the office and family environment. There is no third place.

In no way a hate two star. On par with Alanis. I have been unfair to Alanis.

The first two tracks were magic, last two not so much. Let’s spilt the difference with a good ol’ three

I listen to more Brazilian music than your typical big, dumb white guy, but I am by no means an expert. The fact I have completely missed this album is testament to that. I would like to purchase a physically copy of this and put it in my house and not listen to it that much.

When I lived in Brisbane in 2011, the neighbouring flat was filled with young delinquents. As our place was also filled with young delinquents, we got on pretty well without becoming super close. The neighbour I knew best, Blood Otter, was superficially a typical Aussie - loved beers, did a skilled trade (surveying I think), and could kickflip. But if you scratched the surface, there was a lot more to him than this. He wore dresses and Doc Martens on Fridays, and he would become very moved by stories from current affairs or folk heroes. In between drunken ramblings about sport and nothing, I remember him speaking about the death of the superbike rider Marco Simoncelli with such sincerity that he transformed the room into a wake. Another time, with a similar tone, he told me about the Vines meltdown on Letterman, and how he felt so bad for them for blowing their shot at huge success. He related this to the hit single from this record being quite detached from the rest of the songs - a small tragedy in its own way of the public and press missing the wider point of the album. There’s more here than this just wanting to Get Free. Anyway, I listened to this again in 2026 and I’m glad it did. It reminded me of Blood Otter, and others like him out there: those that are possessed with a manic energy and deep empathy, but yet to find their place in the world. You’ve gotta make time for these souls when they flutter into your life like rabid butterflies. They won’t be around forever. P.S. When I left Brisbane for Vancouver, he bought me a farewell card from the supermarket and wrote in huge letters with a cheap blue biro: RIP THOSE CUNTS A NEW ASSHOLE, LOVE BLOOD OTTER. I think I still have it somewhere.

Classic and still good. However I must cap it at four because that’s what I gave The Cramps for some reason and Lux is dearer to my heart.

The younger, angrier version of me probably would’ve hated this. The older, fatter version of me quite enjoyed it.

I seem to be handing out 4s like a cheerleader lately, but if anyone deserves these stars, it’s Mr Byrne. The man is a treasure.

I listened to this twice. The first time was while cooking beef short rib on the day of said beef’s expiry date. Should I use this? I thought. It does smell kinda bad? But how bad does it need to be to kill me and my whole family? I hummed and haaaed over this dilemma for about four hours while the beef was slowly cooking. I was vaguely aware of some disturbing country music playing in the background. Should I just toss it out? On the one hand, that would be a waste of food and effort, on the other, my children could get sick and die. What to do? Eventually, I pulled it out of the oven, broke it apart with a fork, and I could still smell a very faint unpleasantness. The smell was barely detectable, but still, it triggered a primal aversion in me. One should listen to these internal alarms occasionally, I thought. So I threw the beef in the bin and ordered Indian takeaway. To my knowledge, no one in my family got diarrhoea. The second time I listened to this was with headphones in an office after reading my project partner’s review of the album. He essentially related it to the musical equivalent of a party that transcends fun and becomes quite nasty. As the occasional dangerous bender enjoyer, this is a correct take. I left work early.

About ten years ago I tried listening to this album as a bit of an academic exercise. It didn’t do much for me. Since then, I have had more passive exposure to Mr John due to the children’s love the Muppets rendition of Crocodile Rock. It has grown on me. While still a bit long overall, this album is his best work.

Pressed play and my finger hovered over the one star button. Then it the harmless fun idiot music washed over me and life wasn’t that bad. Then it got worse again and life regressed to the mean.

Enjoyed this less than Regatta, which I gave a three. Not bad enough for a two, so into the middle bucket you go. Get lost in the muck and the mire.

I don’t really like listening to Rush, but I do find their whole concept kinda hilarious, and there’s certainly no faulting the genuine enthusiasm of their mainly Canadian fanbase. A snarky review would be pointless. It would be like ripping The Wiggles a new one.

Did The MAB give a presentation on m v b? I remember him being very excited about this. As for the album, it’s basically remaking Loveless twenty years later but worse.

I’m glad this was on the list. The world needs more people muttering the following all day long: bum bum bum bum ba da bum bum bum bum bum bum ba da bum bum bum bum bum bum ba da bum bum bum bum bum bum ba da bum bum

When I was about 12, we were on a domestic flight for a family holiday in New Zealand. Crosby, Stills and Nash were also on this flight, and my father went insane. They were sitting in “premium economy” of whatever flattering term they used to demarcate us from them. We were down the back. My father kept poking his head up over the seats and looking at them. “There’s Crosby!” he said. “And Nash has the window seat!” He ducked down as he said this, presumably just in case Nash looked back. My brothers and I just stared at him (our father, not Nash). “Who ARE these people?!” “Look at Stephen Stills! He’s doing the crossword!” “Did you say one was called Cosby?” My brother asked. “What kind of name is that?” “Crosby. Yes. He’s having black tea now.” This went on for about 45 minutes. We couldn’t have found it more dull. Listening to this album now, and realising that this was the music that got our father so giddy, makes the whole thing way funnier to me.

I may be reaching Bowie fatigue, and this may have scored higher if it arrived in a different order, but here we are.

Noun noun noun. It had its moments, but there is much better Brit Pop I’d rather be listening to.

GUNNERS! It’s undeniable that elements of this go pretty hard: Welcome to the Jungle is an all-time opener and the ending to Paradise City is triumphant. I even have some weird respect for GNR fans, who seem oblivious to the fashion cycles which put them in and out of favour every five years or so. But, but, but it’s also GNR so we can’t score it that high now can we?

Noun noun noun. Americana is like ordering nachos at a restaurant (the gambling man’s food). You either get an incredible feast or tomato sauce and partially-melted grated cheese on corn chips. There is no in between. Emmylou is closer to the partially melted side of the duality of nachos.

This was the album of the day my (still currently unnamed) son was born. Probably doesn’t deserve five stars, but to hell with it. Goodwill towards man and all that.

A strong start, but faded away in the background a bit on my first and only ever listen. I suspect this would get better with repeated exposure.

My Sweet Lord may be the most beautiful song written by a Beatle.

You know people who first appear alternative and edgy, but on closer inspection the outfit is a little bit too expensive and general appearance a little too clean-cut? Often x-tian vibes radiate. This is the musical equivalent of that.

My old flatmate and I went to a GZA solo show around 2012. About halfway through the show, he (the GZA, not my flatmate) was performing a ‘freestyle’ that sounded like he’d said it a thousand times before. I didn’t hold that against him. He was probably tired at the end of a long tour, and would you really save your best for Brisbane, Australia? Anyway, my old flatmate, who loves Wu-Tang and was wearing a Wu t-shirt, yells out “Good one, Ghostface!” A few members of the crowd laughed at that. The remainder of the GZA’s freestyle was angrily directed at my flatmate. All I remember is that it started with a booming “YOU DOWN THERE IN THE WU-TANG T-SHIRT”, the crowd parted, and GZA unleashing a ruthless tirade. The next morning, I heard a cry from the neighbouring bedroom. “Aaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwaaa. God damn it! The GZA hates me.”

My friend, the same guy who hates Tom Waits and loves KFC (skin), calls soul patch facial hair a ‘Mingus’. I have never found out where this came from nor heard anyone else use this term, but it has been burned into my vocabulary for about 20 years now. We call the real good ones a Power Mingus - reserved for the ones that radiate steeze and repulse women.

Before listening, I had merged this band in my head with the Silver Apples. After listening, I realised I had done the Silver Apples a horrible disservice.

I forgot how much I loved this album. I thrashed it in my early 20s, during that wonderful stage of life where your mind is a million miles wide and you just want to listen & read & expose yourself to everything you can without extreme prejudice.

Love the Crumb artwork and boy does Janice sing her little heart out. Overall an enjoyable listen without being mind-blowing

I fckn hate this shit so much, yet I don’t have the bottle to give it a one star. What have I become?

Pantera has the least appeal for me of the Big Four. I’ve always found them a bit humourless and lacking another dimension aside from anger. I mean Slayer even adds some depth with their dog whistles for holocaust glorification. For this listen, I really wanted to give this a fresh chance, and I wanted the five year old and the two year old to bang their little heads along too. Needless to say, the children hated it and I felt a bit silly letting the rest of the album play while I prepared dinner.

Queen was very much before my time, and I have never even considered putting on a Queen album. I mean, why would you? Queen Greatest Hits are still commercial radio staples to this day. These songs get even the crankiest of grandpas on the dance floor at weddings. They are part of western existence. This first album experience was fine, fine, fine.

The worst bands in the world latched on to the worst parts of this album and humankind suffered for it.

I can see how people can get obsessed with this music. However, I am too old and too time poor to become obsessed with this music. I choose not to.

I assume this nails the genre. I don’t know. I don’t want to know.

The antidote to the hiphop I was kinda-sorta-totally ragging on in an earlier one of these little posts

A Review in the Style of KM Lyrics: I’m listening to the record the sun is shining outside But I’m feeling sad inside oooo-woooo oooo-wooo But I remember Texas But I remember my grandma There’s more to this world oooo-wooo OOOOO-WOOOOOOOOO So I turn it off, yes I do I just press stop on that old tape player by the door oooo-woooo oooo-wooo I open that door and drown myself in a cattle trough (cattle trough)

I have this fantasy of having a one night stand with Liz and her then writing a brutal song about it. It would be called something like ‘Pathetic’ or ‘I’d Be Disappointed if I Cared’ or ‘Little White Jelly Bean’

When I was in Brazil, I lived with this guy who was obsessed with this album. He looked like a stoned version of the sloth from Ice Age - unkempt vibe, large prey eyes on the sides of his skull, generally incapable of looking after himself. For example, I was away for a week, and the drain clogged in the shower/bath. He had no idea how to deal with this, so he just showered in knee-high brown water. It took me 15 disgusting seconds to fix this with the plunger under the sink, and he considered me a genius from that point on. He loved to choke bongs, listen to Watermelon Man, and play chess. We did quite a lot of this together. Eventually, it was time for me to move on, and he wanted to stay in touch through chess.com. I gave him my user name, and he said he’d add me. A week went by, then he contacted my girlfriend through Facebook, asking for my chess user name. She gave it to him. A month went by, and he asked her again. She gave it to him again. Another month went by, and he gave her his user name. I tried to add him on my end, but the account did not exist.

I hated Kanye before it was cool

Firstly, phenomenal album cover. Secondly, the album itself exceeded expectations. You can hear the influence of this sound/general attitude in a lot of great bands from the 80s/90s. It’s kinda the anti-In Utero (where shit bands to come were inspired by the worst bits and the world was worse for it).

Jane’s Addiction is one of those bands I should like on paper: they followed the romantic path of underground respect to commercial success, they have power minguses, and they have a completely mental lead singer. But for reasons I cannot articulate, the music has never quite clicked with me beyond a few singles. Maybe that’s just how it is. You’re not meant to like everything.

I am a fan of Springsteen, but on some level I understand, and even agree with, the take that he’s a big performative phony who couldn’t working-class if his life depended on it. My subconscious has resolved this dissonance by only kinda-sorta liking this album. This allows me to love his other records without going insane.

Three stars feels harsh, but I don’t think I know it well enough for four. But who knows? Over dinner and drinks, and a bit more conversation, maybe we could get right up there to five.

Youth & Young Manhood got a lot of play in our household, and I still remember where I was when I first heard Red Morning Light. This note is basically to set the scene for my palpable disappointment with this album at the time. That being said, this record is very safe to shit on. It’s time has come and gone, and nothing will be achieved by adding to these revisionist hot takes. I mean what’s next? Take on Sublime? Post some scathing burn on Edward Sharpe? Say that you find Coldplay boring? Ok, Edward Sharpe fckn sucks but you get the idea.

I let out an audible groan when this came up. I’ve had enough Michael. I’ve made up my mind about Micheal. It’s all fine.

It’s difficult working backwards to albums like this. It must have been a true face-melter when it first came out. Through repeated, passive exposure over my lifetime, I can only say it’s pretty good.

I drove over 100 kms while listening to this album and it still wasn’t done when the trip ended. Didn’t hate it, but was expecting more chew your face off dance music. You know, music for those nights that are so much fun your soul is hurting for weeks afterwards.

I drove over 100 kms in the other direction while listening to this album 2.5 times. Even the undeniably grating portions of this record put me in a good mood. I was cruising along with a big dumb grin on my face. Bonus star for well and truely freaking out the squares.