You know that scene in "School of Rock", where Jack Black as Dewey Finn (as Ned Schneebly) is running through the song he wrote for the battle of the bands, to a group of bemused children? We're not supposed to think it's good. It's over-the-top, corny, stadium rock nonsense. The character arc is that Dewey learns about creative compromise, and chooses the better song, written by Zach, one of the students (and sounding like peak AC/DC), instead of choosing his ego. Well, this isn't a review of "School of Rock", but this entire album sounds to me like Dewey Finn's songwriting in that movie. In fact, I'm pretty sure Jack Black was parodying Iron Maiden in that scene. Over-the-top, warbling, screeching, with repetitive riffs and lyrics about Vikings and demons, it's all very predictable nonsense. Feels like the type of music that Dewey Finn would have kept writing if he hadn't committed identity fraud.

"What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this?" That's a quote from me halfway through listening to this rubbish. I never understood the acclaim that the Pet Shop Boys get. Neil Tennant's nasally voice is bad enough, but add in some terrible synth, jangly piano and flat drums along with the lifeless melodies. It's no wonder Tennant is yawning on the cover. But it's not just that it's bad. It's also incredibly cringe. Everything about it makes me embarrassed. Sure there's some social and political commentary here, and "It's a sin" has at least some intelligence to the lyrics. But everything else is just embarrassing.

"There might be accidents, accidents which will be more interesting than what I had intended." Eno's first solo album shows the early signs of his creative genius in artistic process. Madcap techniques like lyrics formed by free-association, throwing a group of musicians together who he believed were "musically incompatible", and using what sounded like interpretive dance to direct the musicianship of it all. Every song here is fascinating. Every instrument is layered with effects until it sounds like something completely alien, every vocal performance is nuttier than the last, and every composition is more unexpected than the last, often breaking in structure to something completely different at random. The ending of "Dead Finks Don't Talk", with its hardcore electronic breakdown, sounds ahead of its time in 2025, nevermind 1972. Eno had confidently announced his artistic brilliance to the world with this collection of musical accidents.

First of all, "La femme d'argent" is an absolute classic. Sounded very different to anything else in the mainstream at that time. I'd forgotten how many great songs are on this album. Everything sounds quite 70s, even if there's a lot of electronica and vocal effects. The first half of the album has a pretty amazing 6 song run. Unfortunately, the second half is a bit low energy after that. No surprise that I'm less familiar with the songs in the second half - back in the 90s, I probably zoned out or bailed after "Remember". Still a really great album overall that holds up very well.

Meh. Every song is very samey. I really really liked the older Black Keys stuff like Attack & Release, but I feel like this album was the turning point when they pulled a "Kings of Leon" and watered down the rawness of their sound and became too bland.

This album always reminds me of Fat Freddy's pizzeria back in the early 90s. Someone who worked there played this album on repeat. So, in my head, that's what this is: inoffensive background music. I know I'm in the minority, but I could never appreciate Van Morrison, no matter how much I tried. I can understand that these are decent songs, the musicianship is good, and his voice is what it is, but it all feels very "beige" to me. On the plus side, relistening to this now in my old age, I did very much enjoy "And it stoned me" and the higher energy parts (like the end of the song "Moondance"). But the rest of the album remains as inoffensive background music in a pizzeria to my ears.

There's no easing into this album. The sound of Neil's double drop D distorted "Old Black" Les Paul guitar slaps you in the face from the very first second of Cinnamon Girl - it's one hell of a way to get your attention. The unpolished rawness of the guitar mixed with the very polished harmonies and melodies feels like Neil was laying down the groundwork for Nirvana. I can imagine Nick Cave listening to "Down by the River" for the first time, taking notes. Speaking of, that guitar solo is one of my all-time favorite things. Sticky, rough and clumsy in all the right ways, dipping in and out, and for such a long solo, not self-indulgent in any way, simply lifting the energy of the song and augmenting it in the best possible way. What more can I say about this, except that it's an absolute classic, that paved the way for so many bands, especially in grunge and alt rock.

I don't know if hearing this back in the 80s would have made it a different experience, but I never understood the appeal of Michael Jackson. Of course there are some great songs, but to call this a great album is a serious stretch in my opinion. Bland overproduced disco pop for the most of it. Thriller (the song), Beat It and Billie Jean are standout songs, and the only part of this album I could properly stomach. Not my taste, sure, but objectively I can't see how this is considered one of the great albums beyond the 80s hype.

I have to say, I didn't know much about Solomon Burke before today. Obviously, I immediately recognised "Cry to me", but interestingly I also recognised The Rolling Stones. I know they've covered him before, and even played live with him on stage, but it's moreso that I recognized the building blocks of that early Rolling Stones sound: the bright clean guitar soloing away as the singer continues, not waiting for a break, but working together; and the seamless switching between speech and singing; I couldn't listen to "If you need me" without hearing "Time is on my side". All that is a good thing. I'm a big fan of the Stones, and I can see why they're big fans of Solomon Burke. An amazing voice, great energy and fantastic songwriting. Happy to have discovered this.

Bank in the day, I was never a Pulp fan. I thought that Jarvis Cocker was a very funny and interesting guy, but I could never gel with their music. It felt too posh and full of itself. Having given this album another chance, I feel I get it a bit more now. Some very witty lyrics and a great run of songs from the start. I did find my attention waning towards the end of the album, and some of the "breathier" Jarvis vocals were starting to get a bit on my nerves. But, I have to say overall that I was pleasantly surprised by this album.

Peter Gabriel, the mad flower cosplaying loon. I'd never sat down to listen to this album in full. It starts off in proper prog rock territory with the madcap "Moribund the Burgermeister", and I'm instantly hooked. I haven't heard anything like this before, and I love it. "Solsbury Hill" might be hard to listen to without imagining a terrible romcom movie trailer, but the guitar work is stellar, and reminiscent of peak Simon and Garfunkel. This album keeps me on my toes. I really don't know what to expect with each song. It's so surprising and unique. "Excuse me", in particular gets my attention. It sounds like Randy Newman crossed with The Beach Boys, but with a theatrical madman at the helm. There are dips in the album, and they tend to be the more sane tracks. But all in all, I'm completely sold on this album. It got my attention from the start and makes me want to dive deeper into the rest of his solo discography.

Pretty impressive that Shuggie played almost every instrument on this album. I'm not really into this type of soul, but I can appreciate the musicianship and songwriting here. Some of these songs take unexpected, sometimes psychedelic turns, which makes for an interesting and enjoyable listen throughout. Overall, very enjoyable soulful album that feels like it's verging on experimental at times.

Quiet, calm but with bursts of urgency, it's Cat Stevens' voice that makes this album work so well. Some absolute classics here, musically augmenting both Cat's voice and lyrics perfectly. The last song on the album, the title track, remains one of my all-time favourite songs. It starts so small, with the fragmented piano piece. It feels like you're in a tiny room with Cat Stevens sitting at his piano right across from you, noodling, improvising, trying to figure out a new song. And then out of nowhere it swells into this huge, emotional burst. All in the space of a single minute. It grabs you straight away and then just keeps building until it suddenly cuts off, leaving you kind of stunned. Very close to 5 stars. Let's call this 4.5 stars.

Nick Drake is sort of timeless. While his sound is quite similar to Stormbringer! era John Martyn, it feels like it could have been released this year and fit in perfectly too. There's something about these songs that feel so genuine and real. It's like the songs are just pouring out of him. The tuned down guitar gives everything a darkness and a moody feel, but nothing on this album feels depressing. Some really great melodies and exceptional acoustic guitar playing. And that's all we get. Besides a tiny bit of piano in the title track, it's stripped back to just a voice and a guitar, but often feels like so much more. A timeless classic.

I've never been much of a fan of Justin's music. In fact, I've always said that he should have concentrated on comedy, where I think he is really truly talented. But, keeping an open mind while listening to this, I have to concede that he (along with the Neptunes) does indeed have some good songwriting chops. "Senora" is a very catchy tune, "Like I Love You" sounds a bit like something early N*E*R*D might have come out with, and "Rock Your Body" has some questionable beatboxing in it. On the better side of pop music, and at least it's not completely manufactured nonsense. The standout is "Cry Me A River". Catchy and intelligent songwriting, it's genuinely a great song. Unfortunately the rest of the album is filler. Justin is trying his best to emulate early Michael Jackson in a more-RnB-than-disco setting, and it all feels quite bland. It's the songs where he's not trying to sound like something from "Off the Wall" or "Thriller" that show some of the talent he has. But, ultimately besides a few decent songs, and one great one, I'm still hoping he concentrates on his comedy career.

"It's a lot of isolated people, who know how to control and operate electricity. They sneak a listen to American radio, and they get what's going on in Europe as well, and they kind of misunderstand it in a very beautiful way." Björk's description of the Icelandic music scene to Conan O'Brien, is a perfect description of the sound that The Sugarcubes introduced to the world. This album was very much an introduction to the Icelandic music scene. But, more than anything else, it was an introduction to Björk. The album, while not originally intended to be taken seriously, blends Krautrock, post-punk, electro and pop into something that sounded very fresh at the time. But it's mostly the fevered energy levels that hold all of this together. You can't listen to these songs without imagining Björk skipping (literally) around the stage, while the other band members switch between guitars, synths, brass and megaphones. Some of the more pretentious spoken-word heavy, Krautrock-inspired, post punk pieces haven't aged as well as other songs on the album ("Delicious Demon" and "Sick for Toys" I'm glaring in your direction). But, the songs that focus more on Björk, and her incredible, alien vocals, more than make up for it. It might seem obvious to jump on "Birthday" and "Deus", but it's hard to listen to this album and not concentrate solely on the massive talents of Björk. "Birthday" still holds up as an amazing piece of music. The instrumentation works so well to augment the absolutely mind-blowing vocal gymnastics that Björk unleashes on our ears. I still don't think there's a single voice in music that could come close to Björk's, both in ability and uniqueness. A fantastic album, with some flaws, but an important moment in music history, when the world was introduced to the beautiful misunderstandings of the Icelandic music scene, and more importantly, to the artistic brilliance of the crazy little pixie with the gigantic voice that we all know and love as Björk.

I fully appreciate the musicianship of this. The piano playing is exceptional. I also really appreciated how relaxed and confident a performer she was, dealing with moments waiting on the rest of the band with a cool charisma. But, this style of soft jazz isn't really my thing. I can imagine it would work better in the context of the 50s, but to me, it sounds a lot like something you'd hear in a hotel bar on holidays (think "Lost in Translation").

Sugar sound very nineties. Early nineties grunge rock to be more precise. So specifically early nineties grunge rock, that I can imagine Beavis and Butthead interrupting "Hoover Dam" to make "is this a god dam(n)?" quips. But I did really like this album overall. You can see the influence that "Nevermind" had here, in focusing on simple, punchy melodies, with bright distorted guitars. But, it lacks the originality and rawness of Nirvana. In fact, for the sake of this album, let's stop the comparisons there. "A Good Idea" could be a Pixies song. In fact, I think it is. It's called "Debaser" though. Still, the chorus distinguishes itself enough to not feel like a complete rip-off. Anyways, something that sounds like Debaser is always going to be enjoyable. "The Slim" takes off. Definitely the best song on the album. The building guitars tap into some frequency tuning in your brain, and it's fantastic. I really can't get enough of that song. The rest, well, verge into cheesy territory a bit too much for my liking. All in all though, a very enjoyable album, that feels very much of its time. I'd call this one 3.5 stars.

I had the wrong idea about Teenage Fanclub. They were always on the peripherals of my music taste, but I somehow never actually listened to them. I always thought they were a noise-rock, post-punk, shoegaze type band, a la Sonic Youth or the likes. Instead, they're bright and poppy rock, melody-focused with polished vocal harmonies. There are moments when you feel that the band I thought they were, start to show up, with the dissonant tones of distorted guitar noise creeping in. But it's always in the background of the very straight-forward poppy song melodies. "The Concept" is a really great song, and a great opener. I can hear the influence this band have had on Carseat Headrest, and in particular Ash. In fact, I hear Ash all through this album. "Satan" gives me the noise rock that I was expecting and I think for a moment that this album is going in a different direction. But it doesn't. Instead, it settles in for simple, polished, guitar-driven pop-punk. Some great, catchy tunes here, but knowing of the acclaim this album gets, I do feel like I'm missing something at times. Most of the album sounds like the positive cousin of the Jesus and Mary Chain. It all feels very young and optimistic. I guess that's the point. I don't mean to sound too negative about this album, because I'm not. I quite enjoyed it, even if it wasn't what I was expecting. Some great songs here, extremely catchy. A solid 3.5 star album.

So, totally not my taste in music. Big disclaimer. I did listen with an open mind though. Unfortunately, it didn't convert me to speed metal, or whatever this is called. I just don't fully understand the appeal. The positives? I feel like there might have been a good deal of irreverent humour in here. My favourite songs were "Jesus Built My Hotrod" and "Scare Crow". But, I suppose the main reasons being that both of these songs were the furthest from speed metal on the album. "Scare Crow" sounded a bit like a Smashing Pumpkins song (without the atmosphere), and "... Hotrod" sounded like a piss-take of a hillbilly/rockabilly ditty. Anyways, not for me, but I gave it a go.

Adele has a great voice. But she's a victim of being overplayed. I tried to listen to this album objectively, but it's hard when these songs have been played to death on every radio station, advert, TV show and as background music while you shop for groceries. Trying to get past all of that and treat these songs as if it's the first time I've heard them, the album starts off very well with "Rolling in the deep" and "Rumour has it". They both have a great Memphis blues feel to them. But, outside of that bluesy/souly sound, good chunks of the rest of the album feel very overproduced and unmemorable, opting to showcase Adele's voice over songwriting. "Someone Like You" finishes the album off on a very, very strong note. A simple song, with a simple melody and straight-forward lyrics, but it feels very genuine and real. And her voice is absolutely incredible in this song, working with the lyrics to lift the emotion of the song.

Scott Walker perplexes and fascinates me. Of course, I discovered him through Radiohead, but at first I couldn't quite understand how a 70s crooner could be such an inspiration on so much of the modern, contemporary music that I love. And then I heard "It's Raining Today", and I was frozen to the spot. We'll save that for when Scott 3 comes up on this list. This album doesn't seem like that Scott Walker. It feels more like "part of the Scott Walker origin story". Having listened to Scott 3 and Scott 4, this album feels like a stepping stone en route towards the more experimental work he'd do there. Sounding like a score to a 70s Hollywood movie set in Italy, the thing that makes the songs on this album stick out are the lyrics. They're quite risque and out there, talking very openly about encounters with prostitutes, STDs and sometimes brash tales of sexual experiences. The strings are pretty epic at times. "The Amorous Humphrey Plugg" and "Come Next Spring" in particular. The one song that sticks out the most to me on this album is "Plastic Palace People". This is a real sneak peak of the direction of what was to come. It feels like three songs stitched together with some pretty interesting transitions, and at times using either a delay effect or possibly overdubbing two separate (and different) vocal performances at the same time to create an unnerving and unique feeling. Overall, an enjoyable piece, that acts more as a milestone on the path towards those next two albums where the really interesting side of Scott Walker came out. In his own words, talking about this album: "Now the nonsense must stop, and the serious business must begin."

Brian Eno is obviously a musical genius. But he's also a lot more - he's a proper artist, equally as interested in the process of creativity, as the output. And that's very obvious on this album. Going into the studio with nothing, and using the restrictions of his "Oblique Strategies" cards to funnel creative exploration is a proper artist focused on the act of creativity. But that's not saying that the output captured in the studio, what I'm listening to right now, isn't something great. It really is. But it equally feels like it captured a moment of artistic creativity, rather than a predefined song represented in a recording. This entire act, using the restrictions of the Oblique Strategies, brings about some pretty unique sounds. I often can't tell what instrumentation is used, and I believe that's because so much of this is created using crazy techniques like guitar digital delay feeding back into itself, or playing string instruments with hammers or other madcap ideas in experimentation. What comes through in the album is a collection of brilliant moments in artistic experimentation. Every single song is completely unique, approached from a different perspective, very experimental, but always melodic and enjoyable.

The first Stone Roses album is the first time I heard dance music finally blending with guitar music in a decent way. You can hear the Madchester scene being born in real time on this album, and at the same time the early blueprints of what would become Britpop. There’s a real arrogance to it too. I mean, they literally tell us that "Waterfall" is such a good song that it works in reverse. The arrogance is deserved too. "She Bangs the Drums", "Made of Stone" and "Shoot You Down" are absolute classics, to name but a few in the album. "I Am the Resurrection" shifts gear at the end of the album into that brilliant, endless jam. And, that's followed by "Fool's Gold". It feels like everything has been building up to this - John Squire layers on guitar riffs on top of a groove and beat that works as well in a nightclub as it does on stage in an indie venue. They might not have made a lot more after this (shout out for the criminally underrated "Second Coming"), but the impact of this album is enough for the legacy of the Stone Roses to still be felt today.

I’m not really into this kind of music. Soul, R&B has never really been my go-to. But Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together is what I call an "exception" album. It’s like Beck’s "Odelay" - even if it’s not the sort of thing you'd normally listen to, it’s one of those albums that everyone seems to have in their collection regardless. Why? There's some great songwriting here for a start. Or maybe it's because of his incredible voice, shifting from smooth to raw to almost breaking apart, and it keeps you hooked. It’s no surprise Tarantino dropped the title track into Pulp Fiction. It has a real vibe of "cool" to it. I might not be a soul guy, but this one is in my collection.

It's fitting that this was released in 1980 because it sounds like a band transitioning from punk to new wave. "Pretty Green" has an Adam Ant feel to the verse, but a more punk rock feel to the chorus. "Monday" is a great song, and feels ahead of its time. "Set the House Ablaze" feels like blueprints laid down for Bloc Party. "Music for the Last Couple" feels like it's verging into ska. Then there are what I call "the Beatles tracks". Weller openly said that he was "inspired by" Revolver when making this album. Ahem. "But I'm Different Now" sounds like a Revolver track on amphetamines. That bass line is Macca on speed. It's incredible. And then there's "Start!", or as I like to call it, "Taxman". Come on Paul, there's inspiration and there's just taking a full Beatles song and renaming it. Regardless, these songs are all very catchy and enjoyable to listen to. "That's Entertainment" is by far the best song on the album. Clever, witty lyrics painting a picture of urban living, and an excellent, original song that's in a class of its own. Getting over the shameless pickpocketing of the Beatles, I was very torn between 3 and 4 stars for this, but on a few repeat listens, it deserves the latter.

Nope. I just don't understand this genre of music at all. I don't understand the appeal. The only song I could stomach was "Orion", and that's mainly because it didn't sound like the Metallica of the rest of the album. Not for me.

Weird choice to have this album on here. If this is here and "Back to Black" isn't, there's something very strange going on. I like Amy Winehouse. I think she had some really clever songwriting and brilliantly produced (thanks to Mark Ronson) songs on her next album. But this is a totally different Amy Winehouse. Scatting her way through some mundane, schmoozey tunes, this album seemed to go on forever. And not in a good way. I still remember the first time I heard "Rehab". Day drinking in London, it came on in a bar, and a few hours later we were singing it full volume in the street. The closest to that Amy Winehouse on this album is the song "Fuck Me Pumps", but that's still a loonnng way off. If I heard any of these songs in a bar, I'd probably be drinking up, to head somewhere else. Looking forward to seeing "Back to Black" come up on this list, but there's 1001 albums I'd prefer to be listening to over this one.

If the colour beige made an album, they'd call it "The Man Who". I feel bad shitting on Travis, because they seem like nice guys, but the music on this album is all very beige in colour. There's nothing particularly awful here, but there's nothing particularly exciting either. The best part of the album, is the "hidden" track at the end. Mainly because there's at least a bit of energy to it. Bland. Boring. Beige.

Absolutely loved this album. I'd never heard of The Pharcyde before, but as soon as "Oh Shit" came on, I knew I was gonna love it. This is the exactly the style of hip hop that I love. Brilliant, upbeat, melodic samples, which are at times quite jazz-influenced, big beats and rap that doesn't take itself too seriously. I love that this is from a time when rap albums had "skits" in between songs. These little interludes of nonsense somehow make this seem more like a concept album in a way, and less like a collection of songs stitched together. Turns out that I recognised a couple of songs on this album (thanks Beardyman), the best by far being "Passin' Me By". I can't get enough of this song - what a classic. Loved everything about this from start to finish. Already looking into the rest of their discography.

You know that scene in "School of Rock", where Jack Black as Dewey Finn (as Ned Schneebly) is running through the song he wrote for the battle of the bands, to a group of bemused children? We're not supposed to think it's good. It's over-the-top, corny, stadium rock nonsense. The character arc is that Dewey learns about creative compromise, and chooses the better song, written by Zach, one of the students (and sounding like peak AC/DC), instead of choosing his ego. Well, this isn't a review of "School of Rock", but this entire album sounds to me like Dewey Finn's songwriting in that movie. In fact, I'm pretty sure Jack Black was parodying Iron Maiden in that scene. Over-the-top, warbling, screeching, with repetitive riffs and lyrics about Vikings and demons, it's all very predictable nonsense. Feels like the type of music that Dewey Finn would have kept writing if he hadn't committed identity fraud.

Really unexpected blend of Latin music, salsa, funk, jazz and hip hop. Sounds like it wouldn't work, but it's actually pretty enjoyable stuff.

"What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this?" That's a quote from me halfway through listening to this rubbish. I never understood the acclaim that the Pet Shop Boys get. Neil Tennant's nasally voice is bad enough, but add in some terrible synth, jangly piano and flat drums along with the lifeless melodies. It's no wonder Tennant is yawning on the cover. But it's not just that it's bad. It's also incredibly cringe. Everything about it makes me embarrassed. Sure there's some social and political commentary here, and "It's a sin" has at least some intelligence to the lyrics. But everything else is just embarrassing.

Syd Barrett is a fascinating, but tragic story. Artistically brilliant and innovative, but lost to mental health issues exacerbated by heavy LSD usage. The stories are straight out of a Hollywood film: finding him sitting in a chair, staring into space with a cigarette fully burnt out from end-to-end in his hand. Going onstage, and standing motionless with a guitar hanging from his neck. Being replaced by his old time buddy David Gilmour, and when everyone thought he was lost to madness, coming out with the saddest, most poignant farewell song in "Jugband Blues". Disappearing for years, and turning up in the studio as Pink Floyd were recording "Shine On You Crazy Diamond", a song written about him. It's a compelling, but tragic tale. Syd was clearly an artistic genius, but unfortunately we're limited to just the contents of this one album (and a couple of songs outside of it) to appreciate the creative output of this madcap legend. Luckily for us, Piper at the Gates of Dawn is a masterpiece. There are two types of songs on the album. Long, sprawling, improvised jams, very experimental in nature. Songs like Astronomy Domine and Interstellar Overdrive are the peak of these. Then, the shorter, more quirky pieces like The Gnome or The Scarecrow. The rest, generally speaking, go from quirky to experimental. The whole album feels like sneaking a glimpse into Syd's mind, where quirky, clever humour meets untamed, swirling madness. The songwriting and innovation is just one part. The musicianship is another. Richard Wright's keyboard creates an eerie atmosphere throughout these songs. Roger Waters' bass grooves and flies to unexpected places. And then there's Syd's guitar. It's so much at once. It's layered, creates texture, it's percussive, it's bluesy, and it's often so experimental that it doesn't sound like a guitar at all any more. Truly pushing the boundaries of what a guitar can do, and opening the door for future guitarists such as Joey Santiago, Graham Coxon and Jonny Greenwood, to name but a few. The production of this album deserves a mention too. Capturing the guitar tones so crisply, while balancing the layers of overdub, keyboards, bass and drums with Syd's quiet vocals for this type of expressionist music is quite a challenge, but done so well (especially for something recorded in 1967). And then there's the pioneering use of reverb and delay. Bands like Radiohead and Osees are still using versions of the same technique based on the blueprints set out here. But back to Syd's songs themselves. Astronomy Domine is an absolute classic, so far ahead of its time, yet fitting in so well as a representation of what was going on in the UK underground scene at the time. Interstellar Overdrive is still as much of a mind-melter as it was the first time I heard it. You come out of it after 9 minutes and 40 seconds, head spinning, feeling as if you'd just dropped acid. The "quirky" songs somehow don't come across as twee, but instead charming, and always tilting towards some manic dystopia of noise. The madness of "Bike" makes you smile (the little piano tinkle when he sings about knowing "a mouse but he doesn't have a house, I don't know why I call him Gerald"), verses and chorus punctuated with a drum sound that smacks you in the face, before descending into noises and laughter that still unnerves me today, even after hearing it half a million times. "Pow R. Toc H." starts off with the craziest version of beatboxing I'll ever encounter. I still don't know how Waters makes that sound with his mouth, but it's a sound that's not of this earth. The rest of the song goes into a jazzy jaunt, until it inevitably descends into madness. "The Scarecrow" is a particularly gorgeous song. Extremely minimalist, with lyrics that seem very fitting for Barrett's mental condition. "His head did no thinking, his arms didn't move..." / "The black and green scarecrow is sadder than me, but now he's resigned to his fate because life's not unkind, he doesn't mind..." The song ends with a gorgeous blend of strings and rising folk guitar. This album is a classic. A masterpiece. Innovative, experimental, inspiring. Syd didn't have the chance to continue making music, but his legacy is still felt today thanks to this album. Shine on.

Dark. That's how I'd describe this album. Even on the most upbeat songs, there's a dark undertone to everything. A brilliant blend of guitars and electronica, a brilliant blend of dark bass and synth with upbeat melodies, it feels like a representation of a musical movement. There's lots of great stuff here, but it's fitting that the standout track is a tribute to Ian Curtis. "Elegia" is a brooding instrumental that feels like the soundtrack to a Western set on the surface of Mars. It's glorious, unique and perfectly the centerpiece of the album, both in placement and musically.

Most of the album feels like something you'd hear on Jools Holland's Hootenanny. It's quite honky tonk at times, and 50s doo-woop the rest of the time. Not that that's a negative thing necessarily. "Watching the Detectives" is the outlier, feeling something more like ska at times. Definitely the most interesting song on the album. Overall quite enjoyable, with some very catchy tunes.

I found the first half of this album very hard to get through. Quite cheesy/corny melodies, and not really my thing. It gets better in the second half of the album. Songs like "Streets of Kenny", "Cornish Town" and "Since I Met You" are decent enough. But there's not much interesting happening here overall.

"Some get stoned, some get strange, but sooner or later it all gets real, walk on." Takes of disillusionment, depression, breakups, death and vampires, fueled by drugs, alcohol and honey slides, written and recorded at times in bursts of instant creativity, it's an absolute classic. Raw and sometimes polished, minimalist and sometimes full-on, bleak with snippets of hope, bluesy and sometimes folky, it's a difficult album to describe. But Neil heading for the ditch is a compelling and brilliant listening experience.

I'm not really into this type of hip hop. I prefer the 80s/early 90s hip hop that was more energetic and used really clever samples. This isn't that. I liked the Fela Kuti tribute, and I feel there are some pretty hefty subjects being tackled here, but I just just couldn't get into it at all.

I'd somehow never heard of Ramblin' Jack Elliott before. I listened to the first four songs of this album, and immediately loved it. It's exactly the style of folk music that I love. Raw, bluesy and loose. I thought to myself, "this sounds just like early Bob Dylan". Then on song number five, Elliott introduced Woody Guthrie, and it all made sense. After reading up on Elliott, it's actually crazy that I've never heard of him. Of all the books, films and documentaries I've seen and read about Dylan, I can't recall mention of him at all. And he's such a big part of that early Dylan. And apparently he's a big inspiration for characters and references made in "A Mighty Wind", one of my favourite music parodies (and the second best Christopher Guest rockumentary). It seems Ramblin' Jack Elliott has been a big part of the music and movies that I've been listening to for the last quarter of a century, but I wasn't aware of it until now.

Kathleen Hanna is a legend. I've rewatched her amazing monologue about how she got blackout drunk in Kurt Cobain's apartment, and woke up to find that she had graffitied "Kurt smells like Teen Spirit" on his wall. And how that song, and its success, seemed to follow her around during some of her less successful moments, working as a stripper, while trying to get her band "Bikini Kill" off the ground. She's a brilliantly funny and compelling storyteller. But she's more than that. She's also a proper punk legend, essentially starting the "riot grrrl" movement with Bikini Kill. Le Tigre sound a lot different to Bikini Kill. They're bright, quirky, and very melodic electropop. But that same punk attitude, ethos and sardonic humour persists throughout the more approachable Le Tigre. This is where punk meets electropop. Everything is very politically charged, with expected themes of feminism throughout, but it's all masked in high energy, positive melodies. I'm actually surprised that this album came out in 1999. It sounds like it came straight from that 2005-2010 period, where this genre of indie electronica was so prevalent. Did Le Tigre lay the groundwork for the indie electropop movement of the early 2000s? I'm reminded of bands like CSS, MGMT, Hot Chip. Even LCD Soundsystem and The Rapture (although thematically they're a bit different). All that aside, this is a fantastic album. Brilliantly melodic, infinitely listenable, with high party energy. Some really clever loop sampling and lo-fi use of electronic beats, but with a rough punk edge to everything. At times, they sound a lot like the B52s, with "shouty" choruses and percussive guitars mixing with the electronica. And then there's Hanna's fantastic voice pushing the energy to another level. There's lots of fantastic songs on here, but I have to mention the obvious: Deceptacon. This song wasn't just my introduction to Le Tigre, it was my introduction to The Punk Singer herself, Kathleen Hanna. The simple, raw, distorted guitar riff drives, while the beats and synth groove, with some handclaps thrown in for good measure. But Hanna's voice takes off. It's like she doesn't take a breath for the whole song, voice switching between singing and screaming with ease - she brings a fevered energy to this song that I think is hard to match or be bettered by anything else. Big words. But it's a big song, one of the all-time greats.

I've said it before, but I'm not really into soul. With that disclaimer out of the way, I did enjoy this album. Curtis's voice is quite unique, almost falsetto, yet breaking into quiet screaming at times. That, on top of music that verges on funk and blues at times, makes for some enjoyable listening. Especially liked the song "When Seasons Change".

As soon as I saw Paul Weller and Peter Wilson on the cover of this album in dusty trenchcoats, I thought to expect a lot of "dusty trenchcoat music". Think angry new wave 80s social-political rants set to ska basslines. What I didn't expect to find was soft jazz. After hearing the first song, "Mick's Blessings", I was thinking that this was going to be a great album. Unfortunately, it was a false flag - everything after the first song is incredibly dull. Songs like "The Whole Point of No Return", "Blue Cafe", "The Paris Match" and the likes, have nice jazzy chords, but are soft, mundane and, essentially background music in an overpriced restaurant that has squeezed in extra tables for Valentine's Day. The livelier songs like "Me Ship Came In!" or "Dropping Bombs on the Whitehouse" add a bit of life, but only a bit. I still feel like I'm stuck in that restaurant, uncomfortably touching elbows with the couple at the next table. The most recognisable songs on the album, "My Ever Changing Moods" and "You're the Best Thing" are recognisable as songs that have always gotten on my nerves. Today, they continue to get on my nerves. Then there's the weird rap songs in the middle of the album that feel as if Spotify has glitched and accidentally served up some random 80s commercial pop/rap crossover album. I mean, I'm fully expecting a cartoon cat to make an appearance in the middle of "A Gospel" or "Strength of your Nature", to tell us about how opposites attract. The whole album feels like Vincent Adultman, from Bojack Horseman: a hodgepodge of different genres of music, perched on each other's shoulders, pretending to be something else, disguised by a dusty trenchcoat.

"Strange Cargo" is a good name for this. An odd collection of electronic soundscapes, with spoken word interludes, blippity blips and synth, that sometimes verges into hippy "tribal" music territory. At times I feel like I'm listening to music that you'd expect to find playing in a nightclub in The Matrix. People unashamedly wearing leather pants, dancing in show motion, probably in cages or something. Other times, it sounds like something you'd hear played in a backpacker river bar in Laos (full transparency: I stole that comparison from my girlfriend). And the rest feels like I'm listening to the score of a movie. Probably an early 90s Avant Garde movie that didn't do well commercially, but somehow launched the career of some now-big Hollywood name. With all of these comparisons, it sounds like I'm dissing this album, but the weird thing is that, despite all of this, I actually liked it. I mean, this guy produced 13 by Blur, one of my all-time favourite albums, so he's obviously got talent. I'm probably not going to hunt this out again, but I definitely enjoyed this strange cargo of electronica.

Nobody has made an entrance as epic as Black Sabbath. The self-titled song on their self-titled album announced the arrival of Sabbath with a slow, ominous, dark riff that eventually descends into a glorious bluesy jam. That's what I always forget about Sabbath: how bluesy they were. Sure, they laid the groundwork for heavier rock (and even metal), but always with a blues and rock 'n' roll core underneath it all. It works so well. The perfect example is, in my opinion, on the absolute best song on the album, "The Wizard". The use of the harmonica in The main riff is iconic, especially when used with those drum fills. It's one of the all-time great songs, and impossible to not make you smile. For all their satanic iconography and dark personas, the music is actually very upbeat and instantly lifts your mood. As I listen to this album for the first time in many years, I hear more similarities to Zeppelin than I ever did in the past. This is proper rock 'n' roll territory, and done perfectly. For example, during "Warning", Iommi seems to forget what he was doing, and goes into an 8 minute long solo, before returning to Ozzy's verse again at the end of the song. But every second of it is enjoyable. There are so many crazy, hilarious stories about the band, that it's easy to focus on that and forget that they had serious skill in both musicianship and songwriting underneath it all. I'm guilty of that - I always loved Sabbath, but I clearly didn't give them enough credit as a serious band, because listening back to this album, it's an absolute classic that deserves the same credit that we give to Zeppelin and other rock legends.

Cinematic, literary and melancholic, Scott 4 feels like the score from an existential Western. Full of philosophical musings, it's fitting that the back cover of the LP only has nothing on it but a single quote from Albert Camus: "A man's work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened." It seems that this is what Scott has been working towards: trekking through Scott 1, 2 and 3, to find something artistically real, bringing him back to why he wanted to create music in the first place. And this album is all Scott. No more covers, everything written by himself, and even put out in his original birth name Scott Engel. I've mentioned in my previous review of Scott 2, how I came to learn about Scott Walker, and how "It's Raining Today" was the song that stopped me in my tracks. But I think the first Scott song I ever heard was in the Radiohead documentary film "Meeting People Is Easy", where "On Your Own Again" played in full to reversed footage of Thom Yorke packing/unpacking his suitcase in a hotel, showing the mundanity of the realities of touring. I don't know if it's because of this first association with the song, but it's one of my all-time favourite pieces of music. Just over a minute and a half, it's minimalist, slow and heartbreaking. Simple and perfect songwriting. "The Old Man's Back Again" is another obvious choice, but deservedly so. That bassline groove makes it, with the drum, guitar, choir and string layers building something triumphant on top of it, while Scott's strong voice drives the narrative along. Political and philosophical lyrics aside, Scott has created a really unique means of storytelling through his music. I mean, "The Seventh Seal" is largely built around telling us the story of the Bergman movie, framed around Scott's own philosophical musings on death. This form of musical storytelling definitely made an impression on Nick Cave, who carries the mantle today. This album has been an inspiration for so many of the greats, like David Bowie, Nick Cave, Radiohead, Brian Eno. This "crooner" style of music is not my usual taste, but there's something so pure and great in Scott's songwriting and musical performance, that I love every second of it.

What can I say about one of my all-time favourite albums? I listened to the shit out this album since my late teens. My neighbours have had to put up with my clumsy attempts to play along with every single song on this album on my Gibson Les Paul, a guitar I bought because of Jimmy Page, who is in my opinion one of the top 2 guitarists of all time (I flip-flop between himself and Hendrix a lot for pole position). Zeppelin exploded (pun intended) into the world of rock music with this album, mixing blues tunes (played to perfection) with folky numbers and heavier, darker sounds that became blueprints for heavier rock and even metal down the line. I can only imagine what it was like to hear Zeppelin for the first time back in '69. They took things to a new level. This is a collective of some of the best musicians of all time. Jimmy Page is, as I've mentioned, one of the best guitarists of all time (if not THE best). John Bonham IS the undisputed best drummer of all time. Robert Plant has one of the most powerful voices in rock history. And lets not forget the genius of John Paul Jones. With these four making music together, it could only be one thing: epic. The blues standards on the album are taken to a new level. Page's guitar is ready to burst to life at any given moment. It feels like he's trying to tame his guitar from taking off at any point during "I Can't Quit You Baby", and he eventually fails, and his guitar soars all over the song. Think of the build-up to his solo in "You Shook Me": we're treated to John Paul Jones' stellar hammond organ work, then Plant's fantastic harmonica (with added grunts), before Page takes over, and even his solo is a slow build-up to the explosion of energy it becomes. Then at the end of the song, we have the intense moment when Page and Plant start their vocal/guitar duel, with reverse echo, making it feel like we're hearing them battle instruments from another dimension. The rockier "riff-driven" songs like "Good Times Bad Times" and "Communication Breakdown" are instant classics. But Zeppelin show they can do acoustic too with the absolute masterpiece of "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" and the witchy reworking of Bert Jansch in "Black Mountain Side". And there's a sneak peak at some of the folkier songwriting that will be more visible in later albums in the criminally underrated "Your Time Is Gonna Come". I really enjoyed reminding myself just how good that song is. "Dazed and Confused" is the centerpiece here. That main riff is so dark, it feels like it came straight from the darkest depths of Mordor. And then after an avant garde break for Page to bow his guitar, the song takes off at an insane pace. Again, I can't imagine what it must have been like to hear this in 1969, it still feels ahead of its time today. "How Many More Times" is a great way to finish the album. The main riff is catchy as hell, then we're given a glimpse of the "song-ception" that Zeppelin became so good at during their live gigs: throwing more songs into the middle of performing one of their own, making long, winding medleys. The middle section of this song goes into another extended bow part, before we're transitioned into another couple of songs, "Rosie"/"The Hunter", in the middle. When Bonham's drum comes in here, this is one of my favourite musical moments - what a beat, mixed with that riff, just amazing stuff1 And then it transitions further until we're back at the main riff again to finish the album off in style. A perfect album from start to finish. What a way to arrive.

Not for me. Positives: I did enjoy the first song "Penitentiary Philosophy" and the first 2 minutes of "Green Eyes". Negatives: The remaining 67 minutes of the album.

Imagine you're away on holidays. It's evening time and you fancy a drink, but there aren't too many options in the area you're in. You hedge your bets, and pop into a grimy pub full of locals. The walls have dusty posters of Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper and Iron Maiden. The beer is watery, but cheap. It'll do, I guess. Then you see a handwritten sign on a blackboard behind the bar. "Live music at 9pm". You look at your watch. It reads 9:04pm. This could go either way. A group hop up on the stage area to a handful of claps. Big hair, clad in leather and denim, they start to play. But you can't figure out what they're playing. It's like they're a Van Halen or an AC/DC tribute band, but the songs they're playing aren't Van Halen and certainly aren't AC/DC. It's like they didn't have the rights to perform the real songs, so they just made their own versions to avoid copyright infringement. You drink up as quickly as you can. That's how this album feels. Like Judas Priest were trying to perform Van Halen and AC/DC songs, but it all lacks substance, originality and ends up sounding like a bad tribute band, playing their own versions of other people's music.

Nope. Terrible music from a terrible person.

It was my first time listening to Joanna Newsom, and it won't be my last. Really fantastic and unique sounds, both in instrumentation and vocals. Ignoring the timeline of releases, I'll instead cite comparisons to music I was already familiar with. I immediately felt a connection with Newsom's musical style, feeling similarities in structure, not style, to the likes of Lisa O'Neill or Junior Brother. Yes, I'm aware that I'm picking artists known for their unique and distinct voice, but it's more about how they form fragmented, sometimes staccato and polyrhythmic melodies around their mad-sounding vocals. I also see similarities to Kate Bush and Fiona Apple. Strong lyricism and free-flowing melodies that again seem to form around the vocals, rather than driving them. The entire album structure is a huge gamble too. With only 5 songs, ranging in duration from 7 to 17 minutes, it sounds like it'll require effort to get through. But it doesn't. It's immensely easy to sit through, very enjoyable, and keeps me on my toes the entire way through. Newsom's voice juxtaposed with the beautiful harp and orchestration is a perfect blend. Deserves a 4.5 star rating.

A "movie for your ears". Nobody can describe this frenzied madness better than the man himself. Madcap jazz fusion with a frenetic level of energy, layers of spacey soundscapes, with soaring guitar solos and dirty saxophones, the instrumentation only broken up once by the gritty snarls and shrieking of Captain Beefheart in the fantastic "Willie the Pimp" - if this is a movie, it's one that you can't eat popcorn during, in case you miss something while you chew.

A work of heartbreaking genius. The juxtaposition of those absolutely beautiful orchestral strings with fragmented and booming electronic beats is such a well considered and fantastic artistic choice. The randomness of the harsh beats breaking apart the softness of the strings is startling, and paints a musical picture of the emotional turmoil that is the subject of this album. "Black Lake" does it best. Those gorgeous strings are somehow some of the saddest things your ears might experience, mixed with long drawn out moments of almost silence, before the booming electronic beats come in, fragmented and disjointed. It's an absolute masterpiece of a song, and emotionally draining. That's the only problem with the album at times. It's operating on another level, and requires a lot of mental effort to listen through properly. Sometimes a bit inaccessible and often emotionally draining. I guess the album cover does the best job of describing the feeling of this album. Björk standing with open arms, surrounded by softness in a layer of feathers, with an open wound in her chest exposing her heart to the world. 4.5 stars.

Short, poppy, folky, jazzy tunes adjacent musically to Pavement and Neutral Milk Hotel, but only in their low-fi folky nature, not in artistic merit. There's a laid-back approach to polish in their songs that reminds me of the feel of Pavement's recordings especially. Switching genres every song or two, there are some catchy songs here, with some unexpectedly indulgent guitar solos, crazy drum fills, and the most rushed pronunciation of the word "Liberty" you'll ever hear. Decent enough, but nothing overly interesting.

Feed your head. Haight-Ashbury, 1967, the Summer of Love, paisley, and LSD. "Surrealistic Pillow" is a landmark album that captures that whole scene perfectly. But it isn't trapped there - it still plays fresh in 2025, almost 60 years later. From the opening track "She Has Funny Cars", with its spiraling vocal lines, and switching melodies, you're kept on your toes. Then "Somebody to Love" kicks in with that fuzz guitar tone that's become the familiar Jefferson Airplane trademark sound, with Grace's warbling vocals adding a dimension of folky texture to the bluesy instrumentation. Then time slows down. The softer, acoustic tunes are understated masterpieces. The dual guitar riffs of "Today" blend with the tambourine-driven beat, creating something that sounds like a looping sample, before Slick's voice takes over. It's hypnotic. As is the very simple "Comin' Back to Me": the repetition of the chorus, "I saw you, I saw you", with a long gap before the next lyric "comin' back to me", is almost trance-like. The (apparently controversial) use of layered reverb in the production adds a spacey vibe to the recordings. It makes it sound as if the music is being beamed in from another dimension. Then there's the big finale. "Embryonic Journey" is one of the most gorgeous pieces of music ever created. Simple, pure brilliance. And that leads into "White Rabbit". Hands-down the best build-up in any song in the history of music. Amazingly clever lyrics too, aligning the psychedelic drug-taking experience with C.S. Lewis literature. The bass line and Grace's vocals building in intensity, march us towards an absolute crescendo of a finish. Consider my head fully fed.

Green Onions (the song) is an absolute classic. Green Onions (the rest of the album) is very enjoyable too - mostly covers, some sounding even better with the organ than in their original form. But, Green Onions, what a song. That Hammond organ riff, that bass line and that fragmented guitar solo, drifting off into a sea of reverb. It's impossible to listen and not imagine yourself as the embodiment of a red setter, sprinting alongside a Bus Eireann bus.

"There might be accidents, accidents which will be more interesting than what I had intended." Eno's first solo album shows the early signs of his creative genius in artistic process. Madcap techniques like lyrics formed by free-association, throwing a group of musicians together who he believed were "musically incompatible", and using what sounded like interpretive dance to direct the musicianship of it all. Every song here is fascinating. Every instrument is layered with effects until it sounds like something completely alien, every vocal performance is nuttier than the last, and every composition is more unexpected than the last, often breaking in structure to something completely different at random. The ending of "Dead Finks Don't Talk", with its hardcore electronic breakdown, sounds ahead of its time in 2025, nevermind 1972. Eno had confidently announced his artistic brilliance to the world with this collection of musical accidents.

Knowing what was to come, L.A. Woman felt a lot like a swansong for The Doors. They were blacklisted from radio play, Jim had been convicted after losing his very public trial, and had cleaned up his act somewhat. His tone seemed more seemed subdued, almost as if he was preparing for his departure. Not that Jim's energy isn't present here. In the title track, during the breakdown and the gradual building back up of the song piece by piece, Jim's gravelly voice, sounding like an old delta bluesman, drives things forward with his shamanic chanting of Mr Mojo Risin' becoming one of the most iconic moments of The Doors legacy. There's a lot of wry humour here too. During the brilliant "Cars Hiss by my Window", where you'd expect a guitar solo to break, Jim instead gives us a masterful "mouth solo". In "Been Down so Long", you can feel the smirks as Morrison rasps through the lines "C'mon and set me free, Warden, Warden, Warden... C'mon and let the poor boy be". The whole album is a bluesy masterpiece, and nobody can do the blues like The Doors can. What a fitting end to their legacy to end with "Riders on the Storm". Some of the last lyrics sang by the mad poet and Lizard King: "Into this house we're born, Into this world we're thrown, Like a dog without a bone, An actor out on loan, Riders on the storm."