I know nothing of Cyndi Lauper, or much about the early 80s scene, but this album sounds like a direct ancestor of a lot of very familiar synth pop. I know all the iconic synths and drum machines were new at this time, and artists were seeing what they could do with them. Sounds like Cyndi helped set the mold for giddy, girly pop bangers - some of which I'm sure I've heard mixed in at Electric Feels. Cyndi walked so No Doubt, Metric, and Grimes could run.

Here's a forgettable review for a forgettable album. The proto-pop-punkish first half didn't do anything for me. I'd probably dig the lyrics, but the vocals put me off. But then the latter half takes a hit of hash, gives the vocals a break, and falls into some nice late 90s downtempo grooves, which I could see slotting in a playlist with UNKLE and Moby. But I probably won't.

It took me until a few months ago to finally watch Walk the Line, so even though I'd grown up listening to Johnny Cash, I never really appreciated his mythology until now. To listen to Folsom Prison without context seems like you're missing half the story. There's a whole meta narrative in the lyrics, set list, and banter that encapsulates Cash's anti-authority shtick and actually seems to say a lot about the prison industrial complex and predatory penal system. So that's neat.

I'm no early 90's gangsta rap expert, but OG sounds pretty un-OG and derivative. Some decent beats - pretty sure Dj Shadow sampled Midnight for Midnight in a Perfect World, which is neat. ...wait, is that actually the intro to When the Levee Breaks? Anyway, T's OG music gives me the same meh as Body Count, his rock/metal band. Superfluous and unnecessary. I'll keep my ice cubed.

The definitive mom and dad rock album of my early childhood. Those margaritaville guitar+piano riffs and blerguevuederbadoo vocals bring back so many memories. I can practically smell the old carpet. But I recently learned that The Boss is Tom Morello's rock n roll hero, so I'll try to listen to the album in its pure context. 1975. Watergate. Vietnam. Khmer Rouge. Thatcher. Jahova's Witness Armageddon. Turns out Springsteen was a counter-culture revolutionary? These lyrics are deep, almost like beat-scene poetry. Anti-war, anti-capital. Backstreets is about a secret gay teen love affair? Did our parents catch all this, or did they just hear big jams and Elvis-adjacent jibber-singing? I'm into it.

I don't hate it. Probably a lot of kids in the 60s liked it. I'll never listen to it again. I appreciate that they paved the way for David Draiman to choke on the same hairball on every Disturbed song. WAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

I used to think TMR was just a shibboleth for hipster cred. You have to pretend to like this album to be in the club, just like you have to pretend trump won 2020 to work in his administration. Jumping in fresh, it is quite a beating, what with the harsh hillbilly vocals and semi-musical horn wailing and string plucking. But like a benign carbuncle, it grew on me over the years. Harsh vocals? I listen to Meshuggah, Amon Amarath, Miley Cyrus. Challenging, even adversarial aesthetics? I listen to Autechre, Gwar, Radiohead. And now I actually appreciate TMR a lot more since getting into Tom Waits, Primus, and other impenetrable rabble. So from me, an initiated weirdo, it gets a 3.

I guess it's a feature of legitimate punk to sound like butt. That's the barrier to entry to keep the normals out. I appreciate that. But I'm not on that side of the fence yet with Black Flag.

I've been a Goldfrapp head since Strict Machine was on that commercial for Nip/Tuck. And by that I mean I liked that one song. That song slaps. This album doesn't. This album is a snooze. If Gen Z has heard of it, I'd say it's a progenitor of modern snoozecore, but I don't think they have, so it's probably just boring.

Yes. oh yes. This bangs. Space traveling falsetto screeching psych rock opera revealing the mysteries of the universe. I'm all about it.

Thanks, any excuse to listen to one of my most formative albums. It is, of course, flawless. Every lyric and every riff is iconic. This is the essential ur-language of heavy metal. Oh to be a young bloke in 1970, transcending the shadows of war and nuclear winter with righteous minor pentatonic guitar solos.

2010 was a pivotal year for Millenials. We were in our early 20s, moving out, getting money, discovering how far a tank of gas could get us. Original recipe 4lokos were 3/$6. Beer pong was a national sport. Music and culture festivals we starting to blow up. The geopolitical context? Nobody knows, we weren't paying attention. But MBDTF was the soundtrack. It was on the radio. It was in the club. It was on the homie's ipod in the garage. You'd hype up for Dark Fantasy and Who Will Survive. You'd peak through Power, All of the Lights and Monster. You'd crash out on the couch during those long ones, drifting through the strings and piano parts while the mayhem continues in the other room. You'd wake up half way into Lost in the World, spinning, questioning your life choices, lost in some citaay, lost in the wooorld, and either run to throw up or go down for the night. These were our songs.