1001 Albums Summary

Medium-good Radiohead album. Very medium-good. UPDATE: project partner xilef couldn’t get the edit function to work so he sent me his review to add here: It's uh very like computery and autotuned in some songs and I like that but it's also like normal and that's what makes it good. I also really liked in the first song the drums. It's a good mixture of electronic and rock. And also the tiniest bit of pop. xilef's rating: 4 stars

Didn’t spend too much time with this one at the time. I determined that the album is the perfect soundtrack for decorating the yard for Halloween. High praise indeed.

Sorry dh, are you kidding me? This album slaps. 3.5 stars, bumped up for the image of someone listening three full times to award it a 1-star review. Rolling Stone Magazine watch: five mentions in album Wikipedia page. Note: album Wikipedia page in unconscionable.

koff koff…ahem…

Aretha is so amazing and she elevates these tracks so high, it feels a bit cheap to dig on the band, who are only serviceable. So, because of that one thing, I won’t award this album six stars. Six is too generous.

Ponderous themes and ponderous production. But sometimes it kind of rocks.

Some albums just stand the test of time, exposing new layers and depths when you listen at different stages of your own life. Fine wine classics. This is not one of them.

Watching Iggy hobble around the stage at age 76 with no shirt, looking like a saddle bag full of live cats (see Wikipedia photo for reference), converting drunk fratboys song by vigorous song, is one of my fondest festival memories. The sleazy sack of wormmeat that is The Idiot only enhances the legend.

Listening to Rain Dogs makes me profoundly happy. The world would be such a better place if we’d all just take some time to love the wonderful carnival of Tom Waits’ mind for awhile.

Some good tracks on here, mixed with some mediocre ones. It all feels very dated, and a bit like experimental noodling. I know I know. Allmusic called it a “masterpiece”.

Ahh, well. You know, sometimes listening to one of the most famous hard rock albums of the 70s is just a plain old hoot.

I have a soft spot for soul sisters singing sweetly. This album has a ton of great tracks. It doesn’t hang together as a unified album necessarily, so runs way too long. But I like plucking tracks from this for other playlists. How to rate?

Never heard of this one before. After getting over my initial surprise that Devendra Barnhart is a man, I proceeded to first become hypnotized and then obsessed by this absolutely wonderful flurry of ideas. Listening to Rejoicing In The Hands has made me 10x more excited for what other hidden gems this 1001 Albums business may cough up. Rolling Stone Magazine watch: One instance on the album Wikipedia page. Receives my first 5-star review

I don’t know why I really was avoiding this album in the history. I’d just keep imagining Coldplay songs I know and it would make me feel tired and bored without even pressing PLAY. Honestly, though, it wasn’t so bad. Pleasant enough and all that.

I like everything about this. Rolling Stone Magazine Watch: mentioned zero times on album Wikipedia page. Bonus point for including a song about the magazine.

Very of it's time. Wholly unoriginal but not wholly unfun. I feel this album falls into a magic perfectly-average place. It would have benefitted greatly from shaving 10-15 minutes off the runtime. Rolling Stone Magazine watch: zero mentions in the album Wikipedia page. Well done Ash. Well done.

Ah, the original pop-princess-turns-twisted album. This stuff was so pervasive it’s hard to be objective. The relationship bitterness has gone a bit from “da-a-a-amn, girl” to “tee hee”, but I was bopping to the album quite a bit. Easy to forget how unapologetically odd and personal these tracks are, and Alanis Morrisette’s voice, much imitated since, is very unique and expressive. Liked it way more than I expected. Turn it up and singalong. Rolling Stone Magazine watch: five instances in the album Wikipedia page. Ouch, Alanis.

I’ve loved this album for all my life. And I know it’s not even Yusuf’s best. My heart wants to give this five stars. My brain wants to give this four stars. Rolling Stone Magazine watch: one instance on album Wikipedia page.

Come on, 1001. Just entering that Friday night vibe and you drop Phrenology on my lap to crank on my headphones, as if to challenge me: “rate this one two-stars…I dare you.” The game is rigged. Listening to Phrenology is the best I’ve felt all week. Rolling Stone Magazine watch: I’m tired of this joke.

An angry album with heavy things on its mind. Cube isn’t my favourite MC, but these beats are untouchable. As the bad behaviour policy requires: cha-ch-ch-check yo’self before…

Garbage. How to review an album as omnipresent in commercials, television, movies and radio as Garbage? I don’t know. Review: It was fine. I will give it a big full bonus star for being one of my partner’s all-time favourite albums. She was vibing hard. Happy wife, happy life.

Yaaaah. Now we’re talking. If you spin this absolute gem and don’t have a great time….well, I don’t know what else to tell you.

First time I’ve ever listened to this album…and it is incredible! Also second time I listened to this album. Sounds SO GOOD! The third time I listened I locked in the rating.

New Order has a sound. Perfect in the background. Still fine for the foreground, but better in the background. Some legit bangers on this album. Reminded me of clubbing when I was 20.

Takes awhile to get going, but once it does… The Who have always been a band I respect more than I love, but are rock gods there to only be respected? And this album fits that mold exactly. I respect it I guess.

What an amazing Friday evening listen. Just right, baby.

Knowing Mike Oldfield played every instrument does increase the interest. I managed to stay pretty engaged, but wasn’t exactly amped. 2 1/2, nudged to a three due to a couple of sweet parts.

One of the most fascinating aspects of music is how it can completely hijack my physiology. The rhythms in which I move and the moods in which I’m thinking. My jazz education is weak, and it always takes me awhile to switch gears to the jazz mindset. But once I do, it’s good it’s good. This one took a couple tracks, so I had to listen through a couple times. Once I was vibing: it’s good it’s good.

Ministry did have a moment, and I thrashed this album when it came out many times. Today my world has turned, and while I remembered why it resonated for a teenage version, now it feels a bit simplistic. Still, very fun revisit.

I’ve given Def Leppard a lot of grief over the years. Much of it was deserved. But when you shut off the old brain and just listen, Pyromania ain’t half bad.

Thin Lizzy is a very fun band. I nudged the volume up once, twice, three times. Does TL have the most songs that have the same names as other famous songs but aren’t actually the same song? Sounds like a good Masters thesis.

I’ve heard of these guys. Will they stand the test of time?

This album is trash. Fills my heart with garbage.

I believe Rolling Stone magazine probably would have called this “an assured debut.” I call it fckn rad!

How can I express my thoughts about an album that is as intensely beloved as this one without sounding like a complete asshole? Those multitudes who connected REALLY connected. I’ll go this way: I like the songwriting. The delivery and her voice are just so plain that it accomplishes whatever the opposite of “elevating” is. I feel like maybe if I spent more time listening it could grow on me though. Bonus star for how when I was singing “You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman” at the top of my lungs the whole family laughed.

4-star first spin. Idiosyncratic and intriguing. Got lost in the 15-minute final track. Then during the second spin I got very interested in shutting it off halfway. Ask me again in a month.

This shoegaze hypno-pop kinda music can hit real nice with the right mood-enhancing cocktail, but doesn’t work as well on a sober school night. That said, I’ve heard way waaaay worse versions than this.

GK is a maniac, and those slinky soul samples are so smooth. The closer you listen to the lyrics the more insane it becomes. Full marks for this sweet baby! PS: that this album is pushing 20 years old is ill.

After getting through the interminable Shout, a bunch of decent tracks on here, all culminating with a resounding thud of a closer. Still, a 3-star experience.

I wanted to really dig this one, but felt more neutral. I didn’t dislike it at all. I liked it not at all. Neutral isn’t good.

Oh, Canada. I often find mid-aughts records don’t age that well. This one stills feels very good. The music on this album fills a room in a way that is cozy and epic at the same time.

My favourite 80’s pop album not made by Prince. I have listened to this thing seems like a hundred times. Still gets a spin a few times a year.

Knowing the two massive radio hits primed me with low expectations. But then, suddenly, I didn’t mind it much at all!

Yessss. When this album popped up a slow smile grew across my dumb kisser. A perfect excuse to blow the dust off my ragged old LP. Those dueling guitars. This album f’ck’n rules from the first second to the last.

Party album! The skits bugged me but the songs were a ton of fun.

The production and DJing on this album is still unparalleled, and the rapping is fun but definitely of it’s time.

I played this tape cassette a lot when I was in grade 12. I recalled it as long and meandering. Turns out it’s pretty tight and good.

2012? 2012???? Practically a new release! I’m not saying I disliked it. I didn’t. There were some cold tracks I think would sound great popping up on a road trip set list. I just don’t see how an album like this could ever be someone’s personal favourite. Didn’t have enough wow. Solid mid.

Sometimes simplicity is a good hang.

This is an album with some great songs. But way too long, and very inconsistent.

The legend exceeds the reality. But still a very off-kilter weirdo of an album, perfect for Halloween. It reminded me of Abbey Road: a bunch of great ideas poured into a blender and presented with some charm.

Yes, the rumours are true. 2 years before Nevermind dropped, alternative music poked its little head out of its dirt hole and gave mainstream listeners a little kiss on the cheek. And it sounds even better now. Breakfast at my house never sounded so good.

Red Headed Stranger is as cozy as they come. Bona fide campfire music. I still haven’t figured out the full story of what’s going on through it though.

Schmilsson makes me feel good. It is a super sweet and topical vibe for first thing in the morning. Singalong bliss.

It’s been a week for cozy mellow albums. This is one of those types that sounds good, and is always reminding me of other albums I want to listen to more. The Christian Life is absolutely bone-chilling.

I thought this was something else. Or else it was what I thought and I am dumb. All I know is I physically could not pay attention to this album. I will perhaps revisit another time and revise this one.

How do I fully digest a 90-minute concept album I’ve never heard a single note of before that also happens to be Peter Gabriel’s Genesis’ magnum opus in one day? Answer: I don’t.

This is so far from what I would ever listen to on my own, which is something I like about this Project. It reminds me of something a schoolmate would play during a college study sesh. I don’t know how to handle it. C-grade.

Daddy like. I do think it’s worth mentioning that producers of digital media who tag hip hop skits onto the beginning or end of the music tracks will all burn in hell.

Finally some concrete proof that Scientology works! Why he disavowed it I’ll never know.

Albums that amount to a glorified DJ set are tough to rank. It was a fine listen and a bit of fun, but hard to care about. If I only ever listen to 1001 albums my whole life, is this really one of them? I was thinking 2 stars, but I don’t want to be ungenerous.

The Psychedelic Furs’ first three albums are top-to-bottom gold. While I slightly favour their debut album, Dumb Waiters is maybe my favourite track by them, so it all evens out in the end. This is a serious jam. Play loud.

Nestled comfortably between Hobbiton and a militant Covid response sits a third cultural juggernaut which shared with the other two an uncanny ability to hold a mirror up to the New Zealand character while simultaneously defining it. Never before has a nation’s reputation been so thoroughly captured and enshrined in the eyes of the world forever.

I fell to my knees and cried out “Oh, Sweet Mother! Please send me something that will wash my ears clean of the memory of Lorde and her ultra-bland toadie Jack Antonoff!” The Sweet Mother replied, “hold my beer.” I have never heard of this before and I have no idea what the legacy will be in my life. All I know is that for 40 beautiful minutes this morning it ripped off my head and howled.

One of those solid albums hipsters love to throw on to prove how cool they are. But still. Solid album.

This band manages something impressive: it takes a bunch of musical elements that I love, blends them, and creates something abominable. Good job.

What more is there to say about a 5-star classic as good as this one? Perhaps just this: I hope it gets auto-generated again right now.

I have a few tracks off this one on set lists, and while not really breaking new ground Little Simz has great flow and decent beats. Solid, quick little album I’m happy to see show up on this list.

I wasn’t a part of the Oasis hive, probably turned off by all the drama. I was a bit surprised this album is actually so straight-forward. Just a standard rocker that doesn’t really do anything new, but has a few great tracks I liked a lot? Maybe it was worth all that drama! (PS- no it wasn’t worth all that drama)

This was a fun spin. It was one I approached with some indifference, but once it started I tumbled all in.

JA was an arm of alt-music I’ve blamed in the past for paving the way for other, worse bands in the late 90’s that I really did not like. That said, this album remains pretty great, and in my opinion, hangs together as a full album a lot better than any of the individual tracks on their own score.

I sort of recognized the album cover from record shops and was astonished it wasn’t some classic rock routine! It was kind of a wonderful listen I was happy to pay attention to once. Once.

I have a turbulent history with R.E.M. it’s undeniable their early albums inspired me and greatly opened my mind to new kinds of music. But I turned against them hard as they grew into superstars. Green hangs right in the nexus of those two feelings. Some parts turn me on, some parts turn me off. But it definitely transported me to a different phase of my life. I really really want to give it 3 1/2 stars. Both 3 and 4 seem too extreme to me in opposite directions..

Outdated soft rock for lame dads or sexy proto-yacht rock for sexy daddies? Well, I’m pretty hot, and I like it. Bonus star for the Pointer Sisters’ cover of Dirty Work being a high point for all music. Guess what? It didn’t need the bonus star because I already love this record.

This one makes me very curious the criteria used to make the list. Here we have a band with a bunch of incredible albums, and today we are offered on of their very mediocre titles. Why? Maybe The Cure have several on the list, and it will all make sense in the end. I admit, it sounded pretty good on headphones.

I kind of hoped I’d be more into this, but my listening experience went steadily downhill in a linear fashion between the first minute and the last. Luckily it started pretty good.

My Miles fandom is limited to a few very cherry-picked albums. This was not one I’d been introduced to before, but the musician lineup is incredible. And it really blew me away. It will be getting a lot more time in my earholes for sure.

First repeated band assignment. There was a time I’d point to In Rainbows as a personal favourite Radiohead album. I enjoyed the revisit, with some very high highs, but the lustre was a bit off the full package.

ThIs is the kind of weird little hidden gem that really makes me love this project. If the album had a smidge more variety I may have rated it even higher.

Prog rock can seem like a bit of a chore, but time and again I sort of like it when it’s happening. A bit weird the prevalence of the violin on this one, but endearing. Not sure this one will pop up much more in my life, but glad to give it a chance today.

No band has ever committed harder to the simple ethos of sex, booze and rock and roll. Partying. An easy breezy low-stakes album stuffed with bangers, this one. It reminds me of eating cereal and reading comics for some reason.

This one caught my attention for several reasons, even though I’d never heard it before. 1) The album cover. A welcoming collage with lettering both quaint and unusual. 2) The release date. Spotify put it at Sept 1,1974. Whether that is accurate or not I do not know, but on Sept 1, 1974 I was only hours old. 3) The Byrdhouse. When we had the Byrds assigned a while back, it was Sweetheart at the Rodeo, an album that absolutely did not work for me. The Gram Parsons influence was too much, and it had no relevance to what I thought the Byrds were all about. Now, reading about Gene Clark, I’m starting to connect the dots around that whole Byrds thing, and No Other tells me all I need to know about why Sweetheart at the Rodeo was wholly unlike the earlier Byrds I am more familiar with. 4) The legacy. Any time an album faceplants miserably out of the gate and the artist “never recovers”, only for that album to reappraised a masterpiece years later, well, always worth giving that album a bit of time. 5) The songs. They seemed so familiar. I guarantee I’ve never heard any of them before, but they just were connecting with me hard. I founded I wanted to sing along real bad, but unfortunately didn’t know any of the words or any of the melodies. Like that nightmare about being in a play but different. 6) The production. Sounds like the team spent some dough to make this album, but I found the mix incredibly crisp and clear. Every instrument was transparent, and balanced in a way where nothing was overpowered. It enables the ear to really wander around the instrumentation. So to cut to the chase, today was a wonderful 1001 listen.

Korn is bad for the digestion, both going in and coming out. It doesn’t help that it sounds like Jonathan Davis is singing while sitting on the can. If it was 60 minutes shorter I might give it a charity star because of this tidbit from the Wikipedia: “According to Wright, Robinson went to extreme lengths to agitate Davis in the vocal booth, including punching him in the back repeatedly.” Call the mandatory minimum 1-star I’m required to select the charity star.

Did Elton John love country music? This album sort of reminds me of country music, if Meatloaf did country music. That there was a time and place where Indian Sunset seemed like an awesome idea is a testament to progress. All that probably sounds like I didn’t like it.

Funny-looking band who put on a really great show. How to assess something that’s both dirty and harmless?

How to review and rate an album that was pretty good, I liked it fine, but it constantly reminded me of other earlier albums like Cheap Thrills and In-a-gadda-da-vida. It sounded ok, it just wasn’t anything special. It didn’t feel additive. Sounds like a 3.

ABBA holds an intriguing space in my heart. My folks had ABBA’s Greatest Hits on vinyl when I was a child and I was obsessed with this thing. I must have spun it 100 times or more between the ages of 7 and 12. I ever after had a soft spot, but as greatest hit compilations grew in quality and scope, those remained the albums I would pick up on cassette, then CD. So I have curated a huge love for those songs. But then comes their albums. The hits remain killer, but the rest remains filler. I want to love it all the same, but they are the definition of hit and miss. I think this is a sweet album, and the hits are almost the best of the best. Still. Padded with filler. But I can’t go lower than 4.

Beatles albums are so f’ck’n awesome. They make it seem like anyone could do it.

One thing it’s nice to think is that an album’s biggest mass hit is kind of the worst song on the album.

When your album cover is this hilarious your star-rating can’t go below 3. Add a few groovy tunes, and you may be on to something.

Always interesting reviewing an album I know very well. I think I’ve owned it in every format since QT made Son of a Preacher Man super-famous in the ‘90s. So imagine my utter bamboozlement to learn last night that Dusty Springfield is a Brit! A Brit? Anyways, now I need to recalibrate the last 30 years of my life.

Everyone I hung around with played this album a lot, and I did. It was on the juke box where I worked. Patrons liked to play it. I heard it again and again and again. And again. Metal grunge. Heroin withdrawal depression music. Great time!

A couple years back I swapped 10-track sets with Groupmate using a baffling guideline where we had to pick a single track from one album chosen from every 50 albums in a long bunch of albums. We had to pick songs from albums we’d never listened to and swap the sets unheard or something. I don’t know, and I forget the details, and it’s all too convoluted to even try to explain here, but the sets were both demented. The song Rattlesnakes was on my set. This album is a good fun listen. It felt a bit long, and both spins I found myself checking the progress when there were two-three songs left. I note that on the album cover the words “Contains 4 extra tracks” is written. All this to say: I was right. It IS too long.

I keep crossing paths with Antony and the Johnsons, a track here and a track there, and the hushed, tremulous style just captures my attention. But I’ve never really felt compelled to listen to an entire album. I just figured it’s a bit odd and maybe doesn’t weather an extended sit. Am I ever glad I listened to this one. A beautiful and intriguing spin, with some guest artists who I didn’t see coming, but who worked great. I want to go listen to it again right now.

Sometimes these old timey rock albums by superstar personalities feel like greatest hits albums, even though they aren’t. All these tracks are ultra-familiar from countless sources over the years, never heard within the context of any kind of album. This is like a greatest hits album missing Lucille. Which is actually pretty impressive when you think about it. Except of course, Lucille is missing. Still, pretty much a banger, performed to the max, even if the substance is on the shallow side.

What the devil? Ok, I will accept the premise that instrumental soundtracks are a part of music culture. While I didn’t hate this listen, music made specifically for a movie come across as a bit unmoored without the actual movie. I suppose these kinds of albums would resonate much more strongly for massive fans of the movie. To me, it sounded alright. I really hope (and pray) that the Star Wars soundtrack is not a part of this journey.

Being a Sex Pistols agnostic, I never put any time or effort into PiL. Listened as I decorated for Christmas with my kids. A little evisceration of organized religion warmed my Christmas cockles, and the vague ska vibe on a couple later tracks got my head bobbin’. Not 100%, but a decent first touch.

There was a time in my life when I loved this album. It is clear today that time is past. It’s Clapton. The guy is simply uncool to the max. Still, some all-time riffs.

It was baffling when it came out. I bought the cd on day 1 and have a fond memory of diving into Speakerboxxx on my long bus ride home. I was smitten. These albums are so jam packed with creative musical ideas it still comes across as incredibly refreshing. With this revisit, I think I might love them more than ever. Speakerboxx is a stone cold masterpiece. One of the best hip hop albums ever. Then there’s the bizarre The Love Below… My one quibble is that Andre’s lyrics are about as subtle as a cock in a popcorn tub. But the music he makes is just SO DAMN FUNKY. Damn.

Third assigned Radiohead album is the best by a long shot. When they are at this best they sound like they are tirelessly searching…for something. And I get go with them. Oak Computer and Kid A were their zenith, and it still works damn well on me.

These songs made me think of all the elementary school teachers I had in the early 80’s who would fill our choir repertoires with the folk music they’d lived 10 years earlier. Every one of these songs could have fit easily into those duotangs. Even the ones about drugs.

I have a friend who absolutely eviscerated Jeff Buckley in an e-mail awhile back. It is likely fortunate this individual was not called upon to deliver a speech at Jeff’s funeral. For my part I am quite taken with this album. There is a lot going on and some big swings. Some swings hit, some not so much, but taken as a package, the willingness to do something quite strange, I just have to appreciate.

I would hate to overstate this to one. MC Solaar’s French flow over funky jazz production is incredibly fun. I listened to it twice straight through back to back. I want to give it five stars very badly.

Not a favourite. If there were a perfectly middle-ground album, this is it.

When you take a bunch of wonderful things, put them together, don’t include anything not wonderful, and sprinkle it with wonder, you get something wonderful.

It takes some effort to make 80’s synth-pop sound boring. It wasn’t a hate-listen, like my 1-stars tend to be, but not for me, in a genre I typically find very much for me.

Still a melancholy listen after all this time. But to have a band like Nirvana largely avoid their own massive hits to expose their fans to some great music that influenced them, all delivered by one one of the most recognizable frontmen ever, this album hasn’t lost any of its power or awesomeness.

It makes me laugh that this came out in ‘87. It certainly makes me feel a certain age (13). But all that aside, this album is a real solid rocker. The production is so sparse it give that cozy homemade feeling.

One of my critiques of this project so far has been a few of the odd choices included. This seems like one to me. The Smiths have two pretty unimpeachable masterpieces. This just ain’t one of them. In fact this one is one of their most mediocre. I guess I’d need to actually read the book to figure out the rationale, but I know there are loads of unsung great albums that would never get exposure on a list like this. And let’s face it, Meat Is Murder is kind of a turd.

I’ve known a couple true-blue Zepheads in my life. LZ is one of those bands with fans who are so sincere and worshipful, their advocacy can be contagious. I have a few fond memories of these passionate folks walking me through some very cool stuff late at night in their rustic living rooms, empties and roaches littered all around us, them handpicking tracks and loving them so much I started loving them. While I’m no Zeppelin super-fan like them, I did love those nights. I bought a pretty sweet little box set of all the Zep albums on CD back in 95 and got pretty familiar with all of them. So Physical Graffiti. A pretty all-time-famous double album. Doubles tend to be describes as “sprawling”, and that certainly applies in this case. The key questions are: Are the songs good? And: Does the sprawl hang together as a unit? I will say there are some supreme favourite tracks on here, alongside a lot of forgettable music that tends to fade back to background. I think too inconsistent to hang together as a unit. But when the kick drum lands in Black Country Woman, it’s one of the best single moments the band ever had it the studio.

Cash’s Rick Rubin phase was incredible. I really loved them all. This one has tons of great tracks, and Cash’s delivery is so weighted with experience that it gets me thinking of my own life. I also love the spare simplicity of these albums.

I was wondering when I’d get hit with my first “art versus the artist” type conundrums in this project. My philosophy on the whole matter is that the art isn’t objectively changing. The only thing that changes is me, the listener. Every listen to an album may hit me in a different way from the other listens, but only because I am bringing something new to the equation. All the album can ever bring is itself, and all the bleeps and bloops always come in the exact same order as ever. So, on any given listen, thoughts or feelings about the artist may or may not be a factor, and it’s totally valid either way. So for this particular listen of The College Dropout, I would say the artist was a factor, but only a minor one. A lot of tracks slap pretty hard, and some not so much, but generally a decent album. A bit overrated imo, but I thought that long before ‘Ye’s entire existence went in the toilet.

This record covers a lot ground in 40 minutes. It’s got an easy simplicity that masks a complicated bunch of songs. It sounds like someone with a lot of experience made it.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit. Shit! But this is too good.

Randomly generated my ass.

There is a certain kind of music that I absolutely love. A bit funky, R&B, but old school. This is that exact kind of music. It makes me feel aces.

I like Joni. One of the distinctive voices. Hejira is not one of her albums I was too familiar with. I did like it. I did I did. I didn’t really hear many tracks standing out much though, and really not sure it will get much more play around y house.

It has been many long years since I’ve played this sucker. I still felt familiar. Have a Cigar and some parts of Shine On would fit seamlessly onto Maggot Brain. Roger Waters little rants against UK’s social infrastructure are sadly, still relevant. For me, this is the best Pink Floyd ever got.

I was actually sort of happy this popped up. When Firestater landed in N.A. I pretty much discounted them as a novelty. But in the last few years a lot of newer musicians I like have cited The Prodigy as a big influence. I’ve been meaning to check out whatever I was missing. So now the news is in! A decent play. Some of it sounded hopelessly dated. Some holds up. I think the biggest issue was that it’s shallow and repetitive. I did like the energy behind it.

This one is a keeper. The back half of this album is an all-time single side, but this one still tips pretty good in the first half. This review is off the rails already. Better just to go replay the album.

The summary page has labelled me as “generous” and as a “cheerleader”. I think because I’ve been doling out 5-stars like candy lately. The truth is, if I have a great time listening, there aren’t that many other metrics I’m paying attention to, and lately the albums have been just damn good. I realize this trend may damage my credibility in the long term. So Nevermind then. What will this one do for my credibility?

So Bjork-inspired that it sounds just like Bjork! I mostly dug it.

My heart sank when this popped up, and I put it off long enough that I forgot about it, until my partner-in-project dropped his glowing review as a part of a desperate bid to catch up on his reviews ahead of a group zoomscotch. Perhaps expectations played a part, but listening to this album was not the torture I expected it to be. #claptonblows.

The production style on this is, frankly, incredible. I guess Q-Tip picked up a trick or two being in one of the greatest hip hop groups of all time. Not every track is an all-timer, but plenty to enjoy.

Took me a few songs to get into this one, but once it clicked I heard a couple tracks I would put on a setlist. I’ll spin it again.

This guy is cheese: some of his songs are pretty gouda, but a lot of them stink like gorgonzola. Bonus star because Only the Good Die Young is one of my go-to karaoke songs.

A decent album, highlighted by some absolutely ripping tracks, suffers from being a bit bloated. Cute concept to tie an album together with a recurring cities and towns motif.

I respect the hell out of this, especially coming out in ‘85. I sort of forget about The Jesus and Mary Chain, even though I actually bought this tape twice because the first one got eaten by a tape player, and then the second one got eaten by the same tape player. So I associate a lot of unfair anger and frustration to this album.

I gave a silent fist pump when I saw this album pop up. My exposure to Scott Walker has been from no less auspicious of a bridge than the Spotify recommendations algorithm. The Jacques Brel covers I had suggested to me are so over the top I was just curious to see whether he built his whole career on that level of bombast. I wanted to expkore more but never got around to it. I was glad to find a bit more variety to temper the overbearing orchestral stuff. Strangely dirty lyrics. I think I’m a mini-fan.

Ugh. This album is perfect. No notes.

Yes, I would throw Cars on a set list. Sadly the entire album mostly bored me. Not inspired to dive into this particular rabbit hole any further.

If someone put a gun to my head a said “name a member of Can,” I would never have formed the syllables hol-ger-czu-kay in a million guesses. I had to admit I don’t know much about Can except they have some awesome tracks out there! So, Holger… I gotta say, I loved this album! Weird and funky jams. My kids complained a bit, but not as much as I thought they could. The movie samples were more distracting than additive though.

It’s easy to hear why people love this album so much. It feels good to listen to it. The harmonies and instrumentation are so locked in I was genuinely surprised to read how disconnected the recording was, and that the four of them were almost never in the same room together once.

This project is ferreting out so many little musical blind spots. Such as the entire Steve Winwood oeuvre.i gotta say, this album wormed its way in through my earholes and burrowed straight to my heart. Perhaps a bit on the long side, but these are some beautiful little melodies. Hard to say what direction this will grow in my esteem over time, but I’ll start it off at a very solid 4.

Of the culture wars, Stones versus Beatles has to be the dumbest. The overlap area on the venn diagram contains piss-all. The answer is “both”. Beggars Banquet is top three Stones for me.

I don’t know how to feel about this one. Medium-ighs and medium-lows all over the place. I appreciated the whole album certainly creates a single vibe and works as a single thing, but I’m not sure what that vibe really is. I love the ridiculous album cover, especially the bespoke puffy little white cloud around the mouth hole. Also the album ended so out of the blue I had to double check, so certainly didn’t feel too long. But I didn’t end with a nice satisfied feeling either. I’m going to have to settle in the middle on the one; perhaps I’d like it better with another listen. But do I even want to give it another listen? I don’t even know.

When a band can pack 15 stupidly wicked tracks into 38 golden minutes we must pay strict attention. Look, here’s a banger, now we’ll have another one, on to the next one, now here’s the next one, how about the next one, over to another one, and now here’s another one, now it’s another one, listen to another one, now it’s the next one….

I’ll always be curious about a super niche band with a cult following where a large number of the cult-members go on to form their own bands, citing the OG as an influence. While goth metal has never formed a cornerstone of my listening, I’ve dabbled. Yes, I have dabbled. Unfortunately my demeanour was always too clownish to enable my full acceptance, as the best photobomb I ever executed proves.

This probably plays a lot better live in a small, smoky late-night bar than it does in the morning in my sunny living room. Not my favourite spin, but far from a hate-listen.

Jesus, I forgot how much I like this album. JM is as distinctive as they come. I’m not on board with everything, but this one I am all in.

I like me a talented genre masher. Santana makes a unique gumbo for sure. In spite of all that, just not my favourite musician. Fine but never really brings me to my feet. Weirdly, when I listen to it as highly accessible jazz I like it more than when I think of it as rock.

Remember getting super high on shrooms and going to the planetarium to see the Dark Side of the Moon lazer show? Do you? I do.

When I was a kid my dad had Chicago’s Greatest Hits on vinyl. I was quite taken by this record because the COVER looked like it was made of WOOD. It stood out even from the side in his little pile of records. Content-wise I didn’t really like it, but I remembered WANTING to like it. That said, There was one song I did like. Questions 67 and 68. The mercurial title. The blaring horns off the hop. The in media res nature of the singing when it kicked in. I was obsessed as only a 10-yr-old can be. That track made it on many a personal mixtape, let me tell you. Second story: when I was, ohhh, about 20 or 21 a very close friend came to visit me in the rental house I shared with 3 other people. Most importantly, my friend was bringing his new girlfriend, with whom he was head-over-heels. In preparation for the visit I shrouded the light in the spare room in red crepe paper, plastered the walls with words like “LOVE” and “PASSION” alongside numerous sketches of human butts, and I had “You’re The Inspiration” playing on a loop. When I showed them in she was rattled. They broke up within the year, but she became the standard in his mind against whom all future women were unfavourably compared. So, what about this album, you wonder? The sheer chutzpah to deliver a 76-minute double album as your debut demands applause. And it delivers a fun low-consequence listen. Hey! What’s that there? Questions 67 and 68!

This album appeals to a certain kinds of people. Awesome people. Except Lovers of Today. I can’t get fully behind that song.

Perfect album to play in the background when you’re killin’ folks. It’s actually great Nick Cave has an outlet in music to keep him from hopping around the countryside doing heaps of murders of his own. These work so well because the Bad Seeds are equally locked in on the vision. They don’t come much more delightfully demented than this.

Hey, you Iickle witty bitty baby stones, you’re so cute koothchie kootchie koo. Sounded good for what it was.

Bowie goes funky soul. A couple clunkers on this one, but the good ones sound SO GOOD and more than make up for it. I was head-bobbin hard. YA and Fame are all-timers.

The time I’ve spent with this album has been fine, and there was still a lot to enjoy listening today. It’s not peak Paul Simon by a long shot.

This never-ending album seemed like something a 14-yr-old would make on a new iOS app before abandoning the app forever.

One surprise during this project: I didn’t mind this. I was expecting to be lukewarm at best. It will never be a top favourite, but a good time for a spin. I could have used a break halfway.

‘Zippy ripper with highlights’ makes for a bad haircut, but a good album.

At the end of a drunken night out with old cronies, I found myself a couple of slices and threw this into my headphones. As familiar and comfortable as an old pair of slippers, I was fully in the pocket.

I’ve been known to grumble about reggae. Mostly something about musical repetitiveness. With that on my mind, this album ruled.

Do we like The Cure’s big breakthrough? It made a lot more sense for this list than that last Cure nonsense.

This album reminds of that magical time where we, the consumers, made an unwritten pact to bands: we will pirate all your music, and in return we promise not to disparage your credibility when you sell out to Apple to sell iPod shuffles. So, yes, these sellouts have some good kickers.

File under: they don’t make albums like this anymore. It’s also so specific and weird that it felt kind of refreshing. Making this sounds like it was miles of fun.

If I combine musical shittiness with a skeezy abuser, and pour it all into the mouth of a limp dolly that was left in an old toilet for 30 years, it would still be better than this. I’m just glad it was super short.

What a difference a day makes. I come at these “unimpeachable all-time masterpieces” that carry loads of cultural baggage with caution, especially ones like this that I know front-to-back fairly well. There’s no way to be all that objective about it, but I do issue myself the internal challenge “how much objectivity can you muster?” It’s hard to say for sure, but baggage or not, this album is so jam packed with refreshing creativity I’m not sure it matters. Even smaller tracks are never filler, they’re little gems (yes, I’m looking at you Bungalow Bill). On the boomer legacy taint-train The Beatles are holding up exceptionally well so far.

I definitely like the Bee Gees, and admire their journey from indie folkpop to progpop to discopop, going from small-time to superstardom to punch line. This album was mid-tier at best. The three feels mildly generous.

This music teaches you how to listen to it as it’s happening. Ear following one instrument for awhile then on to the next through a musical maze anchored by an undeniable groove (except for the song Bitches Brew itself, which is totally insane). This is one that’s grown hugely through the repeated listens over the years, so that will impact my rating. Not an every day album, but one of my favourite listens to pop up on here yet.

I’ve experienced some weird coincidences during this project (like that Christmas album popping up of Christmas Eve), but last night before the album of the day rolled over my 9-yr-old was walking around the house singing “We Are Family”. That’s pretty fucked up, no? I like me some disco, but the songs always have long middle parts, I guess so people can, whatever, dance. Those middle parts are too long when you’re drinking coffee.

Medium mediumness with medium medium.

Sometimes it’s good to remember that what is happening is the point. A jangly guitar pop doopdeedoop is the point. I enjoyed reading about how one of the guys is an obsessive perfectionist, given these songs all sound pretty loose.

Friday night. A couple weeks since I cracked a beer, so I cracked a couple. Made some pizza for the fam. Smoked a jay after bedtime and watched Reservoir Dogs. It was as wonderful as the first time. Hit the sack, but wanted to play some tunes in my headphones. Opus Dei was a dream come true.

When I saw it I thought “yay, more Specials but not More Specials.” Last time was More Specials. This is just Specials.

I merrily judged this one by its cover. Cover is sweet, album sweet.

My kids are sometimes interested in YouTube videos which basically consist of a charming talking head watching various clips and declaring them “satisfying”. While I’ve committed to myself not to overly judge these videos, the basic concept seems to be that what makes something “satisfying” is that, whatever expectations one may bring, they are competently met, and often with panache. This album was immensely satisfying.

Rejoice! For we are delivered (except for that poor handcuffed lady). Put a dip in your hip and a slide in your glide… Did human beings make this?

This came out when I was in about grade 10 or so, and at a time when I was pretty staunchly anti-hip hop. “I wanna knock you awwwwout…” reminded me of a lot of irritated grumbling at school dances. But I’ve changed and grown, and gotten so much better as a person that I was a bit excited to listen to it. I was a bit disappointed in the early going, but I gradually warmed up as the album rolled along. In the end I’m giving it a solid three, but it may get another listen or two before I die.

An album that inspired THE best music video of the ‘80s, an album from which I’ve heard the biggest 2 hits about 20,000 times each, and which I’ve never heard a single other second of. Was there a reason the rest of this album did not exist? Well, whatever the answer, I loved it. I didn’t love love it, I only loved it.

Kurt Cobain’s life mission was to make people listen to Meat Puppets II, so once we all went and actually did it… There is something to this murdering piece of trash, though.

Another one from a band a band who once influenced my taste and now means nothing. Well, this is my favourite R.E.M. album, for what it’s worth.

I really wanted to go listen to Bad Habits when I was listening to this. Which I did. The Undertones compared unfavourably. That may not be fair, but if life were fair I’d be unemployed and homeless.

I’ve experienced some wonderful success overcoming some significant challenges, and getting through this album was one of them. Not that it was bad, or even necessarily too long given what it was. It is just somethjng that resisted any kind of close attention being paid to it. In the end I probably enjoyed it way more in retrospect than I did while it was happening. I was thinking 2 throughout, and now I’m giving it 3.

When people talk about out making guitars talk, they are talking about this. But the whole band is incredible.

Weird little oddball of a record for a what? 66-yr-old. It was vaguely juvenile, but I was also inspired. Not enough standout tracks to rank with the best though.

In the last 24 hours I listened to four albums as follows: 1) Kala (on headphones): in bed, checking the latest assignment with excitement. I already knew this was a banga and I was primed to crank it up. It was relentless and punishing, and by the end I threw off the headphones in aural exhaustion. 2) Tonight’s the Night (on speaker): faded into a background drone quickly. It lacked nuance and did not engage me. I was frustrated and felt I was missing something important. 3) Tonight’s the Night (on headphones): suddenly the album made sense. The intimacy led to illumination, and I was captivated. It felt like a Crazy Horse album, and reading up I see many of those lads were involved. I was sorry when it ended. Sad record. 4) Kala (on speaker): when the energy and passion were released from the boundaries of my headphone-entrapped skull, and set free to bounce around the room, the album made sense. Now we were all dancing around the house. The less aggressive tracks were a sweeter salve. The familiar jams and samples I already loved going into it were bouyant and comforting. So I am reviewing Tonight’s the Night and Kala together. As they were always meant to be.

Metallica’s first four remain their best, and this remains fourth of the four.

Une combinaison parfaite de déchets et de cœur. Et la banane est le symbole ultime de la virilité Donne-moi plus! Plus! PLUS!!!

Megadeth two days after Metallica. A project destroying deal-breaker for some, I would imagine. I, however, have a genuine soft spot for wonderfully composed, expertly executed, brain-meltingly speedy thrash metal. The softest of soft spots. I softened continuously the whole time.

If I still did homework I might be grateful for this album. Instead, I don’t do homework.

Slight, enjoyable, little boppy bop.

Hola crap, did I ever love that album. Bang on the Drum just did not accurately set my expectations. I listened to it with close attention in my headphones on and had quite the little journey. Not sure it would weather a casual spin in mixed company, but perfect for deeper dive. One part even gave me real goosebumps.

How can we make VU&Nico seem quaint? This album gets better and Better and BETTER as it builds from beginning to end. It also gets better and Better and BETTER the more you listen to it. I’m obsessed.

In the last 24 hours I listened to four albums as follows: 1) Kala (on headphones): in bed, checking the latest assignment with excitement. I already knew this was a banga and I was primed to crank it up. It was relentless and punishing, and by the end I threw off the headphones in aural exhaustion. 2) Tonight’s the Night (on speaker): faded into a background drone quickly. It lacked nuance and did not engage me. I was frustrated and felt I was missing something important. 3) Tonight’s the Night (on headphones): suddenly the album made sense. The intimacy led to illumination, and I was captivated. It felt like a Crazy Horse album, and reading up I see many of those lads were involved. I was sorry when it ended. Sad record. 4) Kala (on speaker): when the energy and passion were released from the boundaries of my headphone-entrapped skull, and set free to bounce around the room, the album made sense. Now we were all dancing around the house. The less aggressive tracks were a sweeter salve. The familiar jams and samples I already loved going into it were bouyant and comforting. So I am reviewing Tonight’s the Night and Kala together. As they were always meant to be.

I could try to be funny or insightful, but the best I could come up with was “whuuuu???”

My vinyl version has the Christmas songs, which I don’t like. The Spotify version has no Christmas songs, which I like. This album absolutely rips, let’s get that clear. Proximity to Christmas songs and the proliferation of covers are affecting my computation…

This funky jazz hip hop pocket where Common lives is a very cool little cul-de-sac. Incredible opening track and other highlights didn't stop me from getting impatient at the hour-mark.

After sampling a Yeah Yeah Yeahs tune once or twice a year over the past few years, finally an excuse to listen a bit more. Gotta say: I had a wonderful time.

When Bono belted out “How long? How long must we sing this song?” I could already see my project partner formulating his hateful little joke. This album has some great tracks, but I don’t want to overrate it. It’s fine.

Long story the coincidence, but it is documented elsewhere, and documented well. So that just leaves one thing left to talk about. One damn hilarious album that still hits. The mushroom trip story alone is worth the price of admission.

When I create things I do whatever I want. I never hold back or placate an instinct. Is this a good thing? I also disparage and rarely share what I produce. It’s a question of trust by the artist to an extent, plus a willingness by the listener to accept what may rub them backwards as a part of the experience. I am willing.

Those attentive to my reviews may think I love this album. And I do dig it in a cozy way. It’s just too soft for the genre.

I disliked this one as I was listening. Mostly Nico’s disconnected voice in too large a dosage. Then once it ended I thought “I’m going to listen to that again. It was good.” Brains are stupid.

I may get this wrong, because my memory is foggy, but one fine zoomscotch I recall mentioning loving this album and my project partner responding with a story about one of his other friend’s perspective that Jurassic 5 is hip hop for white people. Beyond me whispering almost to myself “but…I’M white…” we didn’t really reckon with the racial profiling or discuss the implications. It therefore remains unclear whether the observation that Jurassic 5 is for white people is a diss on me, a diss on J5, or perhaps even intended as a compliment to J5’s crossover power. It also remains unclear whether he meant other races like J5 and so do white people, or that white people and only white people like J5. Regardless the intention, the viewpoint aligns with the popular right-wing conservative axiom “just because it’s racist doesn’t mean it’s not true.” My preferred interpretation is that by loving this album I am battling racism.

I like Snoop’s laid way back vibe, I think it may be a one of one. Unfortunately I was rushing a family member to an emergency room (everybody is fine now) and then managing the rest of the family around a bonkers day, and my vibe did not click with this album. So many fine tracks though.

Early adopters of a type of music I didn’t like in the mid ‘90s, with undeniable highlights. It sure is windy outside my house.

A formative moment from my early 20s. I’d recently left my short stint in theatre school, leaving many beloved classmates behind. Heading to my first post-drop-out party with those people I felt vaguely nervous. I pictured all sorts of interactions where I would be attempting to explain my reasons for leaving school and attempting to sugar-coat my ill-formed next steps. I soothed my nerves with some pre-drinks and a smokeysmoke. As I walked over I played, on my tape Walkman, a tape with the cautionary name ‘80’s Dance Party. It was full of atrocious songs like Two of Hearts, Obsession, and You Spin Me ‘Round (Like a Record), and, in spite of the atrociousness, really put my right in the pocket of a good mood for the party. I got there, mixed a highball and started hobnobbing. It was going surprisingly well. I decided to hit the porch for a jay. As I toked a huge tall greaseball of a man, a boyfriend of one of more hardcore theatre folk, covered in tattoos and burdened with a reputation for hard-core rough living came and sat beside me. With no preamble he eyed the headphones slung around my neck, leaned in toward me and whispered “what are you listening to?” I stammered and stuttered, “guh, er….um it’s um…’80s Dance Party”. By the end of my answer I was borderline inaudible. With a scowl he hissed, “can I listen?” Hands trembling, I turned over my headphones, withering in embarrassment. He put them on and pressed play. He took a long drag on his cigarette, gazing into the distance. He then clicked the STOP button and returned the Walkman. As he exhaled his smoke he gave a withering and disdainful, “duuuude,“ got up and stalked away without looking back. This entire album is like listening to that experience in the form of an album. The worst part? I don’t hate it and sometimes I even bob my head. It’s humiliating.

In the spirit of full transparency, I went into this one with a full weight of expectation defined by my project partner’s derisive 1-star review filling me with dread. I was deeply relieved to find an album that was only bland, boring, derivative and whose inclusion in this list was only utterly bewildering. I did like the line in Captain’s Table “flying ‘neath the wings of a giant dong”. At least that’s what I heard.

The entire Amy Winehouse tidal wave completely passed me by, with the exception of a brief obsession 20 years ago with her incredible Cupid cover, which I had forgotten about til now. While the radio hits were unavoidable, my brain barely processed them, and as such, this album was pretty much completely unfamiliar territory to me. So now that I’ve dabbled I can finally conclude: I MISSED OUT. I was fully in on the smooth vibe of these songs, the band is clear and on point, and Amy’s vocals are engaging. I will dive deeper for sure, based on this. I guess the cost is now I’m sad she’s dead too, so it wasn’t a complete win.

This album doesn’t kick in for until Red Light Special, but it gets pretty great for awhile there. Even outside of the Prince cover, his influence is all over this thing.

Some albums get better and better every time you listen to them.

Right on, this is one far-out groovy space jam.

As an engineer might say, I certify that this album substantially complies in all material respects with the original design intent and is fit for use. In other words, when you aren’t high in a nightclub, this album has some fun moments, but is generally mediocre to listen to.

The mean-spirited jokes against the poor, suffering U2 haters are starting to wear thin. Perhaps that this is a vaguely annoying album even to me is one of the reasons why. I’m also surprisingly familiar with it, and So Cruel is one of my favourite tracks by them. Anything else to say about this one? Not really.

I was borderline obsessed with this album in 1990-92. Listened countless times, infested mixtapes, played at parties; pretty much every single song was used and abused by me someplace or another. Front runner mixtape frequency was Bottle of Smoke, coming in at twenty fucking five to one. Revisiting it today was a gift. Truly. Thank you, 1001 Albums. Thank you.

You know how some albums you just desperately want to love? It seems immoral and wrong not to love them? This is one of those. It has some unbelievable highs, and on paper it seems like everything should be perfect, but it’s never fully landed with two feet for me, in spite of many tries. I still love how Lou appreciates the value of life on the fringes, and those unbelievable highs I was talking about are enough to drag Transformer up to a 4 from a 3, but barely.

A Dylan album I’m almost completely unfamiliar with. Sludgy but still pretty great.

“The terrible band name can not disguise that this is a stinker,” I thought about 5 songs in. That out of the way, I then started not minding it. If they’d only called the band the Kidding Muslims I may have given it 4 stars.

Peak Maiden!!!! Is a 4.

With no clue what I was getting into I found a lot of genuine weirdness to love on this album. At first glance the length looked egregious, but it zipped along pretty good…up until THE BAD IDEA. I cannot co-sign on THE BAD IDEA: to end the album by reading the liner notes over a mundane beat for 12 full minutes. I’m naming THE BAD IDEA the “Starshedder”. My oldest said it best: “I don’t get going through the effort of naming every single person on earth.” Word, son. Word.

“This could be a Soundgarden song”. I can’t wait to listen to Badmotorfinger and think “This could be a PJ Harvey song”. That’s a compliment, by the way.

Takes me to a very specific time and place: no deadlines, no dependents, candles lit, relaxed and fun. The vocals make this album a lot more engaging than the average electronic music from this era.

The Police’s 5-year run is something special. Regatta sometimes gets a rough ride, but I play it pretty loud and proud, and few albums I airband bass then drums then bass then drums back and forth more than this one. That said, I’m not too proud to acknowledge, grudgingly, that there a couple clunkers in the mix. It’s real damn fun though. Those drum lines are 5-stars, even if the album only gets four (effing clunkers).

My only experience with Hugh Masekela was through Paul Simon’s Graceland, and based on that mini-glimpse, this could not have been further from what I expected. Where I was expecting some African fusion, I was a bit deflated by what seemed very much like an American jazz record. Not bad by any means, and perhaps it will grow on me over time, but today, not all there.

I’m more into Rust in Peace, but love the way Megadeth loves peace.

A couple middling bangers interspersed with some limp filler. No, I’m not talking about an old-school English brunch.

Ugh. That Wilbury I never really listened to that much. And an hour-ten? Ohhh, what a day. Luckily it was sort of delightful.

For one of the missus’s top all-time music makers I’ve spent remarkably little time listening to Adele in any meaningful way. Adele mostly reminds me that love hurts. While these songs aren’t so great individually, one thing I appreciated about this listen is that the album as a whole exceeded the sum of its parts. This is a rare, valuable and overlooked trait of albumness. I’m giving that trait an extra star.

This marks the first assigned album almost wholly unavailable on my regular music streamers. It forced me to seek out a YouTube playlist, which enabled YouTube to merrily implement it's advertising policy, peppering ads after every single song throughout my listening experience. Obviously, I would never blame the band Madness or the album Madness Presents The Rise & Fall for this sorry state of affairs, but I kind of do.

I’ve been a long time fan, and also think that one AC/DC album is pretty much interchangeable from any other. I’ve heard this album 100 times before, but this 101st listen was half-ass. Bonus star for history enjoyment.

I don’t fully trust The National. The tunes kind of slap, yet whenever I let my ears tune into the lyrics... Just consider the opener. “It’s a terrible love and I’m walking with spiders…it takes an ocean not to break…” This is poetry unbecoming a grown up. This is the poetry where self-pity is just self-aggrandizement in disguise. It makes me recoil in my spirit. But the tunes kind of slap. I am conflicted in my ranking, but have historically been generous when waffling. That said, The National should consider itself on notice if they pop up again: be better.

A very pleasant listen. Just nice and pleasant. Unfortunately ‘nice and pleasant’ can never ever get 5 stars. Too pleasant.

The Clash is more of a proto-new wave band than punk in my book, especially London Calling and onwards. Reviewing them as punk rockers makes them seem like hopeless posers. If I leave that linkage out of the equation they seem prescient, and in a nod to my project partner, make U2 look pretty boring. For me, London Calling is one of the double-album masterpieces

Metallica started out with three classic all-timers, then one 4-star decent album, and then followed up those four with about 12 total duds.

While I’ll take Prince over MJ 15 times out of 10, and Bad has always been a very (very) distant third when it comes to MJ overall, this particular listen has probably been my favourite time through the album for some reason. Just in a receptive mood I guess.

Joy Division is a band I came to later in life, and never listened to this one. I was very into Closer across two listens today. Head banging hard. Main issue? It was too short! Ohhhh, I see. Only nine tracks. One song too few.

Down by the River is not a favourite track. In fact, on occasion I’ve called it a track I hate. Reason? Boring and long. But otherwise I liked listening to this album a lot.

Fun boppy little album, if a bit samey throughout. I had a decent time but wasn’t mind blown.

If I saw this band busking I probably would give them a full 15 minutes and then talk about it later. Instead I read all about how much I am required to respect this album and I was locked in for the full 40. A kind of peaceful album, certainly unique. I just had to listen a little longer than I would have in the wild. Marks for interestingness.

Insufferably funky soul. I’ve never seen this movie, which may be why I slightly favour the earlier studio albums over Superfly. But that slight favouring amounts to minor percentages of stars, not full stars.

A nice carbon-dated hip hop journey I never heard before. Like De la Soul minus the sentimental connection. I now know that sentimental connections are worth exactly one star.

This whole album made me feel sad.

Dubious going in, but the beeps and bloops kind of work. Especially if the primary objective is to make people sing “Don’t. Don’t you want me? Doo Dee doo dee doo deet doo doo, doo dee doo dee doo dee DOO Dee” all day long.

Stevie Wonder was just one of those guys who was built different, and his 70’s run is one of the best in all musicdom.

For the last two years I’ve been slowly coming round to the conclusion that I really don’t like The Who. I went from “I like them” to “I respect them more than I like them” to “ I neither like them nor respect them”. So imagine my surprise when I realized this album is kind of rad. But it’s not THAT good.

Was I going to get the Talking Heads strip-down Eno or the U2 pomp Eno? Turns out it was neither. It’s a dense hodge-podge of demented ideas concocted and blended by a mad scientist. I had a joyful time listening to this incredible album.

This is pure math. IV ≠ 5. In fact, IV = 4

Woof…1001 needs to space out their Joni Mitchell assignments more. Odd duck this album. I was pretty neutral and that is fine.

After giving Back to Black a glowing review only a few weeks ago, I was very surprised by how little of this one worked for me. When it hit is was great, but more tracks missed than not. And some parts I found almost unbearable. Maybe I’m nuts and need counselling.

International f’ck’n treasure.

Look, I like Seven Nation Army as much as the next guy. And if all this album was was a bunch of thumping rockers it would fine. But this album takes a bunch of wacky swings and has a secret weapon hidden up its sleeve . That secret weapon is a continuous battery of clever, funny, and, dare I say, insightful lyrical gymnastics that sets the album apart. Grimy and smart, and most importantly of all, fun.

An album that first baffles with its astonishing overratedness before transitioning into continuous boringness, ultimately leading the listener into a state of sleepy indifference. I look forward to the day when all fans of The Doors have passed from the earth and we no longer have anyone left to advocate for this band’s inclusion on lists like this.

Oh yeah, that’s nice. Like winterfresh mouthwash after eating yesterday’s turd.

Some bands I know entirely through their greatest hits albums, but those I feel like I’ve heard endlessly. ABBA. Supertramp. Journey. Of course CCR. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this album title or seen this cover before. But boy do I ever know those greatest hits.

Quite the revelation. Anita Baker’s touchy little corner of musicdom was never even close to my radar, in spite of my fond adoration of sultry jazzy ladies.

My project partner knows well I have an inexplicable, and perhaps ill-advised, affinity for R&B pop songstresses. That they sometimes look very hawt on their album covers may be one factor, but it is one of many. For that reason I gave this one a good shake. In the end, it didn’t break any new ground, and lacked anything to really enliven it. I didn’t hate it or even dislike it, and may even check out more from Kalela, but ultimately kind of disappointed. Especially because that album cover was so hawt.

This jaunt into the roots of industrial went over gangbusters at the breakfast table. I don’t think I’ve seen the faces of my family look so uniformly miserable. I was slightly more enthusiastic, though the back half held my attention more than the first half: once there was a bit more structure. It prompted some intellectual curiosity. What inspires someone to make music like this? What elements impressed listeners enough to give it such a solid legacy? Could I make an album like this with my minimal musical skill set? Would I? Should I? I should? For real?

Joan Armatrading’s voice and singing style reminds me a lot of Tracy Chapman (noting JA came a decade earlier). After two tracks I was perfectly happy to give this a solid 4-stars. But the damn record just got more and more impressive with intriguing musicianship, surprising vocal delivery, and a very cozy vibe. Incredible album. I’ll definitely be keeping my eyes open for a vinyl copy.

I guess this is a novelty album. Very interesting idea that works better than it should. It must be the Woody of it all that makes it sound old fashioned. I didn’t love it, but solid like.

Their rep for having very fun live shows seems to be strongly supported by this very fun album.

In 94/95 I lived in a ramshackle party-house with three other guys. 2 university freshmen, 2 working stiffs. Just so happened all four of us had dookie on cd. One night we had some fun trying to press play on all four cds at the exact same time. While it is impossible to be objective about this rampantly over-played album, especially in light of Green Day’s vile descent into respectability, in retrospect, dookie is, itself, the titular dookie.

I think Paul Simon is generally top tier, but not quite in full stride on this album.

Fishbone made it onto a lot of my mix tapes in around ‘90-‘94. Almost represented in some way shape or form on every mixtape I produced! Then they dropped to an approximately zero-recurrence since then. So listening to this album was very nice and sentimental. And these songs still bop hard.

My project partner recently prompted an unsolicited memory of KLF/Timelords that seemed wonderous to me at the time, and that became a seed for me to greatly favour this album. The fact that KLF has burned so many bridges that I couldn’t even find a Canadian streaming source outside of YouTube only adds to the legend. All this circumstantial favour clashes with the fact that in 1991 there was no type of music I despised more than this type, and it still really bugs me. In the end it’s star-wise landing in the middle, but this is no “perfectly-fine” kind of three. This is a conflicted “I truly don’t know where to put it” kind of a 3.

Im not sure if this is racist or not. I was a fond Cat Stevens enjoyer, and when he chose to go by Yusuf I greeted the news with indifference. Then awhile later when I started seeing albums by Sufjan Stevens I immediately thought it was the exact same guy because the names were equally meaningless to me. Oh weird, Cat Stevens is making albums about American cities? Oh weird, Cat Stevens’ dad was named Lowell? Oh weird, Carrie Lowell was an actor in Licence to Kill? I was disabused of that false belief 5 days ago with my official introduction to this fine, but non-life-changing, album. Still, in my defense, Sufjan Stevens isn’t completely NOT Cat Stevens.

Don’t worry. Nebraska is still great.

One little-discussed phenomenon that occasionally occurs during this process is that which occurs when one reads one's project partner's review before listening and rating an album. It is clearly obvious that I am enjoying TV on the Radio significantly more than my project partner so far. That said, his derision perhaps affected my listen of this album. i enjoyed it a lot, but that little seed sprouted. Am I enjoying it too much? The faintness of the derision proved a more effective watering-can to my doubt than a downright hate-rating.

If Plato was making the idealized 70's rock band, this would be it. Even the plane crash that ended their ride has a bleak perfection within the archetype. That tragic event happened when i was 3, so the number of die-hard Lynyrd Skynyrd fans I've come across has been admittedly few. They shared one common trait thought: total degenerate dirtbags, the lot.

Wildly variable range of quality on this one. Averages to 2.5.

The actual klaxons were a highlight. This album sits very much in bucket with Muse. I get the appeal and also get why someone might despise it. My reaction is general boredom, lightly seasoned with a couple high points and vague desire to try and like it more.

We here at dick.hole.fire love the "big-swing-flop-only-to-be-reassessed-a-masterpiece-after-the band-is-no-more" storyline. Sometimes its sad, like when an artist pours out their entire soul onto vinyl and is driven mad after that soul is rejected by a glib and hurtful world. Sometimes it's joyful, like this one, where the band seems to truly not give a fuck about the reception, they just want to do whatever they want in life simply because doin' whatever you want is awesome. I think this album will take some time and digestion to fully rate, but today it receives an early glimpse of the sunshine of my favour.

Albums like this are hard to talk about. It’s basically a one-of-one; something no one would ever be daft enough to even want to try to replicate (with the possible exception of its own sequel 20-years later), regardless how much money it made. Woe to the hapless fool who tries to karaoke one of these songs. It’s impossible to have a bat in the house without a healthy dollop of batshit all over the furniture. Undeniable that it quite remarkably executed... but underneath it all, is this album actually any good? Trying to clear my mind of a lifetime of baggage, I had to conclude that yeah, it’s actually kind of good.

Nothing screams “movie made by a white boomer” like Gimme Shelter. This album covers a lot of ground in a short amount of time. Mick Jagger is not a favourite singer, but these songs still sound pretty damn good

1969? I can not get over how early this came out. Starting with that Ramblin' Rose falsetto is outstanding. No notes. Live albums are odd ducks. the idea of "capturing the energy of a live gig" is appealing, but that type of energy can never really be captured without a bunch of sweaty humans jostling each other. This music is incredible though.

For me The Band has been deeply connected to my dad ever since he let me stay up late and watch The Last Waltz beside him when I was about 10 yrs old. He didn't like much rock or pop music- more of a jazz/classical guy- but he was fond of The Band. I love that little slice of childhood memory, and I've appreciated this album over the years through that lens of dad-sentiment. Now that I'm older spinning Big Pink, I gotta say, these songs have aged like the finest wine. Standing stronger in their own right, this album was filling up my heart today, as I ruminated on the cycle of my life so far. Might be a good time to let my kids sit up late and watch The Last Waltz with me. I’ll probably fast-forward the Clapton part.

Dave Grohl seems a good sort. Nice enough, like a big ol' puppy dog. I have absolutely no hatred of Foo Fighters and wish them the best. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with basic, earnest, slightly bland music percolating away in the deep, deep background as I otherwise live my life.

I’ve been on a little Rush kick the past couple weeks, and what delightful kick it has been. So to cap it with this drop was a literal rush. I can’t think of many bands as technically locked-in as Rush, and all three musicians are next level. When they use it to do something this creative it’s hard to miss. One of their masterpiece albums, the loping bass, the creative guitar riffs, and the absolutely insane drumlines. All-timer.

The gnarly bass lines saved this one from two star mediocrity, elevating it to glorious three star mediocrity.

I saw The Killers live once and had a good time. The ultimate posers I suppose. Most of this album missed but I was down with a couple tracks.

After a brief sick spell and some travel I found myself a week behind on consuming generated albums and thought I'd blitz a few during work today starting with this one. Ween did this dreamy pop stuff better two decades earlier, and if I was the Deerhunter drummer on this album I'd throw myself in the river. But I didn't mind it.

I have a friend who's a working musician. He's my age and seemingly has a never-ending number of projects, bands, side projects and side bands going at any given time. One of those is a Grateful Dead cover band. He's not a huge Deadhead or anything, but he spent months with Dead music going in endless loops in his earphones as he tried to learn how to play a whole bunch of their songs. The whole endeavour sounded like the seventh circle of hell to me. That said, I've been to a handful of gigs and turned out i really enjoy them, this cover band. They always attract a bunch of legit Deadheads, now senior citizens, but still perfectly willing to hug each other and wear tie-die. The running joke amongst us attendees who are "friends of the band" is that we'd rather see this cover band live than see the Grateful Dead live. I really was dreading this album. Like I mean REALLY dreading it. But turns out I was dreading too much. It was fun vibe. One of the better live albums we've been assigned so far.

A very pleasant MAB entry that, perhaps similar to the legendary MAB himself, has an air of fragility...maybe one should not dig too deep on this one. Maybe somethings fall apart when challenged. Let it flower and observe, but engage at your own risk.

I've never felt less respected.

I really just know Ruben Blades from Predator 2. Heard Willie around. In North America plenty of 20s-30s vacations are to places with this Latin American vibe. To say this album was transportive to a very fun place in my mind would be an understatement.

Mmm mm mm mm mm. My first experiences with D’Angelo were offputting. He figured out the chemistry of creating the blackest, souliest, sexiest, funkiest, R&Biest sounds to be found anywhere in nature, like a pure distilled extract of those things; it was overwhelming for skinny white boys! So smooth soft it becomes hard as fuck. But over the years my love for his albums has steadily grown and grown and grown and grown. It’s feeding something in my soul, that’s for sure. And while hate to speculate what that something may be, it’s definitely my ability if make love.

Dang, the samples on this thing. Enough to make you dizzy. Chuck Ds inexorable flow style wears on me after awhile, but those samples. Dang.

Delightful for the whole family. DELIGHTFUL, I SAY!

I was expecting a grimier piece of trash. Instead, some decent tracks I liked a lot mixed with plenty uninspiring tracks I had trouble caring about.

Pass the epidural and sign me up.

Not sure if it was purely my mood or if it was something intrinsic to the album, but I think I rate this one higher than the last The Fall album. Hell, I loved it! even though I probably couldn’t tell the albums apart if you put a gun to my head.

A damn lot to love here. I didn’t realize he had to completely rebuild the band for this, they sound great.

I suppose he called it The Healer because white people like him? All I know is that JLH had a lot of work to do to dig himself out the deep hole created by: A) Naming the album The Healer. B) Calling the atrocious first track The Healer. C) Littering that atrocious first track with what I can only describe as "Peter Gabriel toots". Thankfully it got better, but it was nowhere near enough to counteract the conclusion that I will never spin this album again.

Yes! I'd forgotten how joyfully loopy Frank Zappa albums are. I went through a definite phase in my 20's, but it has been a very long while. I had a blast revisiting this gem.

When the Solesides/Quannum crew were doing their thing I was good friends with a massive hip hip head, and he was obsessed with all the Quannum artists. It was an infectious passion, given the quality of the music. DJ Shadow being foundational makes Endtroducing.... one of of the very very few DJ album I ever picked up on wax. Now, how does it hold up? The style is so tied to that time and place for me. I would say still good. But I kept wanting Gift of Gab or Latyrx to start spitting some smooth bars. A bit of a long hour of music.

Hip hop does not get funkier than this. Atlanta must have been a wild party with Arrested Development and OutKast kicking around town at the same time.

Sgt. Pepper's is not a favourite Beatles album to me. It's more intellectually impressive than impactful to my heart. Because of this it actually overall ranks a bit low in the tapestry of all of The Beatles albums if I'm being honest. And...AND...and Sgt' Pepper's still f'ck'n rules.

As I was driving along on a sunny day, window down, Our Aim is To Satisfy playing at a healthy (unhealthy) volume, and as I was enjoying the music way more than I expected to from the description, my mind wandered down a dismaying path that ultimately revealed a deeply disturbing trend. My musical evolution from naive child to now could be be broken down as follows: 1) Music made with acoustic instruments is real, and electricity music is fake. 2) Electric instruments add epic dynamism, and sampling is lazy theft from true creatives. 3) Sampling creates a diverse buffet of musical possibilities, and pure electronic music has no soul. 4) Electronic music done well can be truly inspired, and A.I.-generated music is an abhorrent rejection of God. Well...you get the picture.

After Here Come The Warm Jets I was pretty happy to see this pop up. I’ve never given Eno’s solo output he time of day before this project, but Warm Jets really blew me away. This is another solid album. It suffered in comparison though. Where I heard real vision on Warm Jets, this one seemed more like a game experimenter using trial and error. I heard Talking Heads AND U2 styles so really wasn’t breaking new ground in the same way. But, wait a minute. This album predates those other bands by half a decade! The whole this is wonderfully fascinating. Less than Warm Jets, but still pretty awesome.

There are a perfect number of tracks for any user-created setlist, and that number is 10. After oh, about 6 or 7 years of making 10-track sets, a key contributor hit upon the brilliant idea of running stats on the sets, so we could better understand our own humanity. after some shit-talk about repeated tracks and bitten swipes I realized, with horror, that I had put the same track on two consecutive sets, and the worse, that it was the most recent two sets I had made. Adding insult to injury, I hadn't included the track either time because it was good, but only because it featured the unfunny novelty of featuring unexpected swearing. Yes, Marianne Faithfull track. I am now repelled by the track and somewhat also repelled by Marianne Faithfull. It isn't her fault . It's my fault. Only my fault. This is a review of me, not of her.

In the warm carousel of madness this endeavour represents, it is incredible to have Sgt. Peppers and Pet Sounds land within a a few days of each other. Wouldn’t it Be Nice has been my favourite Beach Boys song since I was 12 hrs old. It haunted my puberty crush fantasies, the most profound emotional crises a boy ever experiences. The surfer dude doo-wops become utterly shrouded in shadow on these tracks. And, taken as a whole, Pet Sounds is one of the best records I know. Knowing what happened to all these guys afterward makes it even more shattering.

I saw Femi play way back in about 1998 or so, around when Shoki Shoki came out. I remember an about 10-piece band and about 10 dancers all on stage, everyone smiling and having a great time. The crowd was ecstatic. Very memorable and joyful communal experience. This album is very fine. Not a 5-star masterpiece, but generally highly-likeable.

Never heard of this. Had to track it down on some cobbled together little YouTube setlist, so the 1-2 ads for lawn care products every couple songs affected the flow and immersion. I’m conflicted. I greatly appreciated the chance to peek into this weird little niche, and I think the execution was quite good. I respect the hell out of their passion and their creation of something highly unique. That said, I couldn’t wait for it to end and I will never listen to again. That said, I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. That said, if I do forget it maybe I’ll accidentally listen to it again. That said, I’m going for a beer, I’ll debate this more later. Or, that said, maybe I won’t.

I associate Pink Floyd with a certain contingent of high school friends, then a certain smaller contingent of early-twenties friends. I associate Pink Floyd with taking drugs, tripping out, and they happen to be the first big stadium show I ever went to. But by my late twenties, certainly by my thirties, they had been thoroughly relegated to the childish things I’d put away forever. Then 1001 Albums comes along and it’s providing some surprising Pink Floyd revelations. Not only is the music itself complex and textured, but a lot of its style flavours many other artist I’ve loved over the years. As a relatively sober 51 year old man, entering my decade of reflection, the lyrics are resonating in a way far more meaningful than they did when I was a teen. What used to seem very opaque is now downright accessible. I’ve been giving Pink Floyd good grades all along the line, and revisiting The Wall was been sweet. I could sing along every single word, but I never really recognized how gutting and tragic it all is, and arguably more relevant now than ever before.

How shocking that this was so middling.

Whenever someone tells that they aren’t religious, but they are “spiritual” I have a visceral reaction. The name of this band repels me. But knowing the band name has nothing to do with any kind of spiritual nonsense, I was able to put our differences aside long enough to greatly enjoy this album, because I am an amazing person.

I just finished listening to Central Reservation and I can’t remember a single part of it.

The reputation of this album of having one perfect side and one only medium good side is well founded. First two tracks are perfect. Second two are fine, just fine.

I think this was a me problem. I just don’t have enough cultural or experiential connection to Brazil to deeply resonate here, even though there was a lot to like musically. A three star I will likely revisit and may reevaluate the second time I listen to all these 1001 albums.

Jang jang jang jang jang jang jang. That’s what this album sounds like. Jang jang jang jang jang jang jang. I don’t hate it.

Ok, well yes ummm LET’S GO, now.

I’m quite emotionally mature. So it bothers me that I can never quite figure out what Aimee Mann is on about. The music and delivery are very refreshing, but I can’t tell what she’s trying tell me. Normally I’d simply conclude the singer is full of shit, knock off a couple stars and be on my way. Some something about the way her music is put together convinces me that this is not an Aimee Mann problem. This is a me problem.

Oops. I may have accidentally written off, ignored, brushed off and otherwise forgotten about a very cool little album. Was Talking Heads '77 always this good? I don't think it was.

Now this is important. There’s a type of a partying that is high-value. I’m not talking about having fun at auntie’s birthday party. I’m talking about a hard hard hard type of partying. Drugs in plentiful forms. An unfamiliar venue. Lots of strangers seasoned with several people you know: very few to zero close trusted confidantes or friends. I’m talking about a kind of partying that is extremely intense. One that transcends the basic concept of good or bad. Part social, part internal. Flavoured with danger and uncertainty, seasoned with new elements you've never encountered before, but all within your grasp to manage. The type of partying that imprints on your memory for life in spite of the drugs, and perhaps adjusts your trajectory going onwards. Like a concentrated dose of living packed into a single wild evening. It is pretty much impossible to plan, but when encountered I advise you ride the experience to the max. While trying to chase this type of thing regularly is not advisable, and will almost certainly ruin your life forever, including a handful over the course of a lifetime is a special ingredient if you want to have a GREAT life. Now I don’t know this album. It really meant nothing to me at all. I didn’t even think it was that good. Except...for some reason I can’t explain, it reminded me of hard hard hard partying. And that? That I like.

I've been able to maintain my sanity for half a century by only consuming Elton John is small doses. I can greatly appreciate a well crafted tune, but pile up a whole bunch of overblown bombast and my psyche crumbles. So I've been avoiding this one for a few days (after avoiding it for that half-century I was talking about). Turns out it wasn't only the songs that were overblown. My worry about it was also overblown. This actually a bop. I was foot tappin' throughout and had a pretty good car-singalong to Candle in the Wind. Saturday Night's Alright remains one of his best tracks. I find his weird, affected American/country music accent he sings in extremely bizarre.

I was buzzing from a strong joint when I slapped this into my ear holes. My expectations could not have been lower. So I was delighted when I actually had a great time. Unrepentantly ‘90s production underneath some timeless bounce.

I’m on the record about my fondness for The Police. I would say I liked Synchronicity more as an album in my twenties than I do now. The tracks are great, but as a whole it’s a bit on the frenetic side.

The baseline on Limelight is worth the stars on its own. But that Morse code thing? I just wish I had someone to tell.

Some proof that humans aren’t all bad. The proximity of Bowie’s death, then Prince’s death shortly after that, I felt Blackstqr would be too sad to listen to. Then I sort of forgot about it, and now I’m listening to it. He saved best for last.

As I listened I became distracted by technical/structural question: are there any other elements the band could have incorporated to make this album more tiresome?

Very cool music, but dammit, I wish I knew what they were saying.

I dutifully did time as a Neil Young fan, as it seems one must to be taken seriously in North America, and that included the duty to dutifully listen to some CSNY along the way. Though I did like it quite a bit, it never really led me to ever listen to the Young-less version. It gave me a good sleep after.

As a surprising fifth (!) Bowie album assigned in the first third of this project, I reacted with maybe some negativity. I actually quite liked it though.

At a time when Bowie oversaturation in this project may be legitimately be affecting the ratings, to have thi land a day after Low, and to have this be perhaps the most Bowie-sounding non-Bowie album I’ve ever listened to, is maybe unfortunate and unfair. I will say that I generally liked it, and it didn’t overstay its welcome. The Bowieness was a bit distracting though.

While this album played, 13-yr-old sockfire and 51-yr-old sockfire reached out across the decades, clasped hands, and, for once, we understood each other. It’s very difficult to express just how many times I’ve played this album. For something that is both inspired by crap and went on to inspire even worse crap, it’s a bit of a marvel that this album just utterly rips from start to end. Like it lives in a little bubble of unrepeatable badassery.

I had to try this one a few times before it clicked. It clicked on a peaceful Saturday morning as I nursed my coffee and read my book. Book-readin’ music! Half the battle is figuring out when to play an album. That’s why all these hundreds of ratings are nonsense.

l’il devil in Nick Cave’s brain surveyed all that he had wrought and felt pride. But l’il devil’s smile faltered for a short second as he wondered, “is there another way, besides just doing tons of murders?” But then l’il devil’s doubt was gone. Because murdering is good.

In the early ‘90s Grant Lee Buffalo was who you name dropped to prove your legitimacy. Kind of a “band other bands liked”. It wasn’t wrong, but this album belongs to that time.

George seems a searching sort. I like that. This album mostly pristine, but just doesn’t carry it through all the way to the end. I even respect the parts that don’t work, but can’t quite go full five.

This is the perfect version of what it is: and what it is is “not good”.

Clearly a standout WuTang solo album. While I’m pretty much into it, I always do miss the compare and contrast of the voices of the collective. Maybe it’s not fair to think that way, the guest MCs on here should solve that one. This is probably why I’ve always give the solo albums such a light touch over the years. Sitting down and really listening through them is enough to know it’s been my loss:

Wow. This one had me from the first five seconds. One of the things I’m most grateful for in this project is the light that is being shone of some little jazz blind spots. I’m very into this.

I just got home from a weekend long camping folk music festival which was fun and had some good highlights, but I think also impacted my listening to this album. I heard some stuff at that festival that had this freewheeling noodling spirit. So this was hitting me in the right way during my listen. Not sure I'll play it too much in the future, but a welcome diversion while it was happening.

A delightful way to spend a warm cloudy afternoon, beer in hand, work behind me for the day, book open on my lap. “Ahhh,” I toasted, “but am I not just getting to be a better person by the second?” No one around me could argue that I wasn’t.

My goodness my gracious. A three-star album in anyone else’s hands. But Janis. Oh Janis. She can have all the little pieces of my mealy little heart.

Back a long time ago I used Grooveshark to make a ten-track setlist as my contribution to a three-way set swap with a couple other maniacs. This set swap was notable for many reasons. Not only was it the first set swap between the three of us, and not only did it introduce the unimpeachable concept that ten-tracks, no more and no less, is the perfect number of tracks for any setlist, and not only was one participant an epic musical degenerate, and another the most ricktangular of project partners, it was the first opportunity for me to share a sweet Prince track with these two individuals. Prince had already been my #1 for a couple decades and no other musical entity even came close, so I wanted to represent well. Not wanting to pick something too much from the “hit-single” bucket, I decided to select one of my absolute favourites: The Beautiful Ones. This is truly a track operating at another level. In order to write this song, one needs to be an absolute lunatic. It was a perfect pick. I was especially keen to hear the feedback, given how badly I wanted to be a well-liked contributor. As we gathered at the pub a week after the set swap to discuss, and the time came to chat about my set I asked about their reaction to The Beautiful Ones. There was a pause as the other two looked at each other. The musical degenerate said “I kind of thought you’d put a Prince song on the set, but I thought you’d pick something a little more…ummmmm. ….upbeat.” The ricktangular one added, “I was a bit surprised you picked THAT song.” Not a diss, but definitely a carefully tended reaction. I advocated they listen again, but didn’t push. I really was fine with the feedback as it stood. Some things just get better and better with time and repeated listens, and I was satisfied I’d provided a first baby-step. At another party with the same maniacs I was put on the spot to list my top-5 albums. I’m sure I fumbled through 5-2 somehow, but #1 was easy. How to review and rate the best album of all time? My desert island album. My easy #1 for over 35 years. An album I’ve listened to and pored over so much I almost didn’t need to play it for this, I could’ve sang the whole thing to myself. But instead I played it loud and sang along. It still rules. There are lots of 5-star albums, but Purple Rain stands alone.

sockfire, 10 yrs old, with 3 friends lurking in an alley and dipping rhubarb staks in sugar, gathered around a battery-powered tape player listening to a hot new album: Van Halen - 1984. It was a precious moment, full of life and opportunity. The world was ours for the taking. sockfire, 51-yr-old, sitting in his underpants at the breakfast table reviewing a draft legal brief with Van Halen-1984 crooning in the background compared…unfavourably.

I like a lot of metal, but Pantera never quite landed. Possibly because it sucks almost as bad as Korn. Ironically, being as good as Pantera would be Korn’s dream come true. So we really do have a quality ouroboros. Who am I kidding? This is 100x better than Korn.

One thing I appreciate about Queen’s better albums is they seem to just be having a blast making this crazy music. So many rock bands are so flipping straight faced. And well, Sheer Heart Attack is certainly one of their better albums. Second best in my books.

There was a time when, in order to maintain social credibility, one needed to publicly declare that one rated In Utero above Nevermind. Sadly, for this project, I rated Nevermind a glowing review and 5-stars, so my social credibility is already shot.

With a rather refreshing and blissful lack of serious caring, I played this album through with no positive or negative repercussions .

I think a little disco in your diet can be a good way to celebrate life, music and dancing. At the same time, a little disco goes a long way, and I find the way a lot of disco songs are structured, where often incredible riffs and hooks devolve into long repetitive instrumental middles, likely worked well in nightclubs and on the drag show scene, but isn’t as conducive to casual listening. For that reason I never really seek out or play whole albums of disco music. All that said, I quite enjoyed this album.

Never listened to Nas before today, except through ignorant cultural osmosis maybe. Still there’s something both familiar and comforting about his voice and flow style. It wasn’t enough to trigger any kind of aggressive dive down the rabbit hole, but I’m definitely open to take in more as it comes.

Would you call it country pop? I don’t know, but I appreciated the laid back music, even if it wasn’t really imprinting on my memory much.

Aside from a mild boyhood crush spiced by the knowledge that Liz Phair would annihilate me, her music teassures me with the vague impression that I’ve been better off without her. Still, kind of good album.

When the challenge arose to make a single setlist out of five full albums, HeadHunters was on my (very) shortlist. Ultimately it didn’t make it on due to being too obvious. The hottest DJ of my late 90s club days played Chameleon all the time and, against any conceivable trend, would pack the dance floor. Sigh…that DJ was very beautiful, and sometimes she would buy me drinks, but I was never single.

I dutifully listened to this from beginning to end, probably at least partially in response to my project partner's absolutely incredible output in the past few days. I've heard it said that three kids is the easiest number to parent, but this is ridiculous (and provides me regular delightful happy moments when i get to see a new red number next my notifications every time I open this website). One thing about kanye you can't deny: he never really hid the kind of person that he is. So tainted with excrement that there honestly isn't really much this album can do to eliminate the odour.

Not too often an album makes me raise my eyebrows and mutter "whoa" under my breath. I'm obsessed. PS: 10-tracks. No more. No less. 37 minutes. Objectively perfect.

I've long described myself as "not liking Jane's Addiction". This was based on couple festival gigs and occasional social listening, and certainly enhanced by some recursive re-devaluation as they paved the way for a slew of atrocious bands afterwards. I'm talking the worst legacy of inspiring terrible bands. As I listened to Nothing's Shocking, though, I really felt like it was an absorbing album experience. Pulling any track onto a setlist would be mediocre at best. But the tracks all together in order work quite well. After writing the last paragraph I tried to recall whether we'd listened to a JA album before. Answer: YES. About 170 albums ago we listened to Ritual De Lo Habitual and wouldn't you know, I said almost the exact same thing: album plays better as a whole. Seems like a skill that's maybe more common outside of the popular music genres. I'll give them some flowers for it. I think this one is a bit better than that one, but close call. Interesting trivia that the cover art is actually a sculpture made by Perry Farrell. It fooled me.

An object lesson in being epic and stripped down at the same time. Warm and bleak. The musical progressions are uber-basic, and performance imperfections are all over the place, yet it feels human and complex and still weirdly perfect. One of the boss's best. Fortunately for the future generations, with the right coaching AI can replicate all this warm human imperfection.

Sometimes one track just outshines everything else so much that even excellent music can be rendered pedestrian-sounding. Zombie is a 5-star all time track. I got a very solid 4-star feeling from the rest.